#you took my thoughts that weren’t yet fully actuallized and put them into words

[calmlb]

adding my two sense because it’s probably the best Dazai analysis i’ve read to date…

i think that Dazai's distorted self perception is vital to his character (similarly to how Yozo in NLH was an unreliable narrator). he cannot see himself as good no matter how much good he does, or how many people tell him, because he believes to his core that he is bad— so bad that he is disqualified from being a human being. and so he is consumed by shame, adding to his hopelessness.

the irony in this is that Odasaku was right— Dazai didn’t (doesn’t?) see much difference between right and wrong. it’s hard for someone like Dazai to see the difference, with as smart, and able to see through people as he is— because the hypocrisy of human nature is so blatant. plus, when you can’t find a reason to live, nothing really matters. everything starts to become pointless. what’s the point in discerning between right & wrong if life itself is pointless?

i think this mindset contributes to Dazai’s apathy towards killing. when you don’t see the point in living— when it doesn’t feel worth it— it becomes nearly impossible to fathom why anyone else would want to be alive… to fight to stay alive (enter Dazai’s fascination with Chuuya).

“There is nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life of suffering.”

it might even seem like mercy to end someone’s life (i don’t know if Dazai saw it like this, but i don’t think he saw it as a bad thing. and we saw him show mercy to the GSS solider by killing him so he wouldn’t suffer a slow, painful death). we know Dazai considered dying to be a luxury— he was giving the soldier exactly what Dazai himself wanted so desperately, hence his slight mental breakdown in that scene.

“Ha ha ha. What a luxury. Ha ha ha ha ha!”

i also think this excerpt from stormbringer is so important because it shows that Dazai rarely, if ever, enjoyed the things he did in the port mafia, such as killing (and this remains true). that’s the point.

The longer he worked for the Mafia, the darker and more unfathomable he became. Nobody knew exactly why, either. Nevertheless, Dazai continued to slaughter his enemies and serve the Port Mafia in order to force himself into an even darker place. His achievements were outstanding. But there was one person who did not take delight in his glory: Dazai himself.

he joined the port mafia, pushing himself further & further into the darkness, thinking that if he could observe death up close, he could find out just what it was that made people fight to live. yet he still couldn’t find it— partially because he took no pleasure in the things he did. whether or not he felt negatively about his actions, i'm not sure, though if Dazai does feel a lot of shame it’s possible. but at the very least, he was neutral/apathetic about them. like op said, it was logical… able to be rationalized— the optimal solution. a way of thinking that he was naturally inclined to, but was trained into him even more by Mori.

most of the things Dazai had to do were either:

1. just part of the job/how the mafia functioned. i think he very quickly became desensitized to death & violence, if he wasn't already before meeting Mori, which i don’t think he was completely, based on his reaction to seeing the Old Boss murdered.

OR 2. orchestrated or subliminally influenced by Mori. Mori was training Dazai because he saw himself in him— he projected on him because of his own loneliness and groomed him to be, probably, the next boss. i don’t think a lot of people realize how Mori’s abuse of Dazai actually worked. it was much more covert and subconscious manipulation. he put the idea in Dazai’s head to recruit Chuuya, and how to do it, but he did it in a way that made Dazai initially believe it was his own idea. Mori was trying to train Dazai to think like he did— to always make the optimal, logical choice— because that’s how Dazai’s brain was already inclined. but as we saw in dark era, Dazai was much more emotional than Mori (or at least, he couldn’t completely put aside his emotions for the sake of logic. and after Odasaku’s murder, Dazai wouldn’t put aside emotion for the sake of logic— another reason he left the mafia).

Dazai is not emotionless, nor is he sadistic. this is one of the reasons i’m so passionate about doing away with using the “Demon Prodigy” nickname in the fandom so casually (it was originally a spin on a line from a fan translation of The Heartless Curr, but it’s found nowhere in canon). in my opinion, it badly mischaracterizes Dazai because it pushes the idea that he was an absolute demon of a person. when in fact, the moments when he could be interpreted as sadistic, cruel, or heartless were usually just masks.

Dazai is a chameleon— he shows people exactly who they need him to be in order to accomplish his goals. if you think PM Dazai was a demon, then Dazai (and Mori) accomplished their goal. Dazai, because as a child in the mafia & the boss’s right hand man (& accomplice in the murder of the Old Boss), this protected him. Mori, because if everyone feared Dazai, not only would they listen to him, but Dazai would be even more alienated and lonely. this would make him even less resistant to Mori’s influence, and to suppressing his emotions & connections in favor of the end goal, which is what Mori was training in him.

this isn’t to say that Dazai didn’t do anything wrong when he was in the mafia. obviously he did, but most of it was just doing his job. Chuuya and everyone currently in the mafia still do those things every single day, but i don’t see people acting like they’re merciless killers all the time. intentions matter, and from everything we’ve seen in canon, even when Dazai looks like he’s doing something wrong or cruel, etc, it’s always with a good intention (unless i’m forgetting something).

much like Kyouka, Dazai was very talented, and his skills served him very well in the mafia. but that doesn’t mean he himself was well suited for the mafia, or that his skills couldn’t be used for good (hence why he was able to get through to Kyouka).

one of my favorite things about Dazai is how he’s always taking in the strays. i don’t know if he’s consciously aware he’s doing it, but he’s always saving the lost or those with nowhere to go. this was true even when he was in the port mafia— he recruited Chuuya (granted the idea was put into his head by Mori but my point stands), he recruited Odasaku, he recruited Akutagawa, and Gin by extension.

after he joined the agency, Dazai recruited Atsushi, who in turn recruited Kyouka (but Dazai aided in that too), and now we have the potential of Sigma being recruited (we don’t know how the Tanizakis & Kenji joined so who knows? maybe Dazai had a hand in recruiting them too).

Dazai is naturally inclined towards helping people, no matter how much he’s blind to the fact (other examples include leaving the choice to Chuuya in stormbringer, renting out an entire building for Oda’s orphans to keep them safe, training Akutagawa so he wouldn’t end up killing himself, etc).

but Dazai doesn’t let himself get close or attached to people, because:

1. everything he wants is lost the moment he obtains it. yet there are certain people he can’t help but get attach himself to. like a barnacle, along for the ride so he observe these people he finds “interesting,” and hopefully learn what makes them want to live… because that what’s he’s after right? a reason to live.

Dazai doesn’t want to die because he’s depressed. he’s depressed because he wants to die can’t find a reason to live. i think Dazai is more of a case of “doesn’t want to be alive” as opposed to “wants to die.” it took me a long time to understand the meaning of this quote from dark era, but once i did, i think it perfectly sums this up:

“Awaken me from this oxidizing world of a dream.”

being alive is too painful. and Dazai hates pain.

awaken me = death. oxidizing world = just the act of being alive is eating away at him. world of a dream = this world has to be a dream because if this is reality, it’s too painful to bear, so he’s clinging to the hope that whatever comes after death is better than this.

and 2. like op said, Dazai is terrified of people seeing his “true self,” which he believes is not human. so even though what he wants most is to be seen & known, it’s also what he fears most. he hides behind his masks and resigns himself to being misunderstood. this disorganized attachment style dooms him to his loneliness just as much as his intelligence does.

“He's sharp-witted with a mind like a steel trap. And he's just a child— a sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier than the one we're seeing." He was too smart for his own good. That was why he was always alone. The reason why Ango and I were able to be by his side was that we understood the solitude that surrounded him, and we never stepped inside it no matter how close we stood.

Dazai’s loneliness is just as vital to his character (and this intense loneliness is also what Dazai and Chuuya mirror in each other).

“…nothing beyond your own expectations will happen. Nothing in this world can fill the hole that is your loneliness. You will wander the darkness for eternity."

even now, in the agency, that loneliness still isn’t gone. Dazai still feels alienated by his intelligence and imposter syndrome and feeling like a monster masquerading as a human in a world of humans. he still doesn’t want to be alive. but he’s still searching for a reason, and he figures, while he’s here, he might as well help others along the way

(and you know he’s being genuine here bc harukawa sensei drew him with the faded effect <3)

Writing a complex character such as Dazai is actually really hard even for people who understand him because he is, as you said, extremely unpredictable. I don't know exactly what to tell you, but I'll try to help a little bit!

The whole thing about Dazai is that he doesn't understand humanity. He understands the basics and why people do what they do because he is analytical and has been studying people's behavior and human connections forever. But he doesn't feel connected with humanity and empathy the same way other people do. He perceives others from like, the other side of a barrier. He studies them carefully. Manages to care about them deeply sometimes. Even deeper when they're able to see him and get to him (Odasaku, Atsushi, Chuuya, the whole agency in fact means something to him). But there's always this layer of disconnection and apathy and emptiness he doesn't know how to get rid of. It's like he cares, but he actually doesn't because he rationalizes everything and turns it into a game of chess, more or less? And I think that frustrates him. He isn't used to caring about people because he doesn't understand them, but he takes an interest in the people he finds amusing to study and once he cares deeply, they're taken away from him (that's why he mourns and regrets Oda's death so much. He feels like the world takes everything away from him the second he manages to feel human). Hence the whole thing about not feeling human (amongst other things). He cares and yet he is realistic. He has regrets and suffers and feels pain and he can care about others (ignore all the people who keep portraying him as an emotionless monster, please) but he doesn't drown in self-pity when it comes to all the people he has killed and his past because he can rationalize that. It was another era. He has moved on. And if it's for the greater good of the mission or his journey to find something to live for, he doesn't care how many random people he has to kill (when he was younger he valued other people's lives way less, of course. Now that has changed because his apathy is something he doesn't turn into cruelty and instead uses to rationalize plans and help the world and the agency. Basically, when he was part of the mafia it was kind of "I don't give a fuck about random people" because he genuinely didn't feel anything for them, but now, even if he doesn't genuinely care for them, he protects even random people because that's what the image of kindness Oda had planned for him). Oda tells him that, if the good side and the bad one are the same and he hasn't found anything to live for yet, why not help the world while he's at it? And it's such a beautiful thought because Dazai has this issue with understanding humanity and making bonds. But he understands, now more than ever after Oda's death, what living and killing means. He might not actually care that much for society and its well-being, but maybe he can find something to live for in the light more than he would in the darkness. He keeps wanting to kill himself, right? He keeps trying. But he doesn't actually want to. It's common sense. If he truly wanted to, he already would've done it. "I don't like pain" is the most common thing to say when you don't actually want to do it. I think that, unlike Nikolai, who actually craves to die as a representation of freedom, Dazai only wants to keep trying and trying to find a reason for living. Chuuya was that thing when he was in the Mafia. Chuuya and Oda, because Chuuya is quite literally his soulmate (in the sense of bringing amusement to his life and also making him feel human, as his ability is the only thing that can help Chuuya. And also Chuuya not being human but being the most empathetic and emotional of all the people Dazai has met in the mafia) and Oda was the first one to actually understand him and see him for who he is, something I don't think he'll ever find again and that's why Oda's death fucked him up so bad. He found a place to belong and somebody to live for, and then he dies and leaves him alone? It's not fair, but he'll try to fight for good and live in the light if that's what Oda wanted for him. As if Oda knew him better than he knows himself because I also think he has a hard time with his own perception and personality.

In simpler words: Dazai has a hard time understanding humanity because he feels disconnected from it by a layer of apathy and the fact that he doesn't understand basic human needs/actions because he doesn't share them. One of the things that makes us human is desires, right? Wanting. Loving. Longing. Dazai rejects all of that because he doesn't know what he wants and nothing he tries ends up making him feel whole. In "No Longer Human", actually, you can read things like "It is almost impossible for me to converse with other people" and "I have never known what it means to be hungry / Eat or die, the saying goes, but to my ears, it sounded like just one more unpleasant threat". So he isn't a monster, his brain just functions in a different way. He sees everything. Analyzes every little thing. He's smarter than everybody else and he's aware of that, but he feels lonely there and only wants somebody to understand or something to fight for. Oda gave him both things, and the agency gave him a reason to keep going because he genuinely cares about doing good and keeping them safe. I don't think Dazai's journey has ended, because he still fights against.... So many things with himself. His past. His future. His desires. But at least now he has a thing to enjoy and bring him happiness. His constant act of being "silly" isn't that much of a facade. I mean, I think it is because if he acts like a clown, nobody will ever see the true self he hides. But I think he ends up having fun with the agency and annoying Chuuya because he sees them respond to his behavior and he finds it amusing. I think being extremely smart and lonely and tormented can coexist with being fun sometimes.

As per writing in his POV.... It depends on what you want to write, really. I think his brain functions differently depending on his mood. I guess the most important thing is to keep in mind his surroundings because he's always hyperaware of every little thing. But it frustrates him not knowing how he's feeling or not understanding what he actually truly needs, often focusing on others instead of looking into himself, because every time he does, he only finds himself empty and craving for something he doesn't know what it is. In his worst moments, I think it's quite obvious he tries to fix things with distractions and impulsive actions like substance abuse. In his more analytical moments, it's when he becomes more apathetic and sees the world as his game of chess and people as only pawns. He knows he's human, he just doesn't feel like it. Fyodor has a sense of superiority Dazai doesn't share. He's smarter because his brain functions differently, but he is no God. He is no entity. He analyzes from the POV of somebody external to humanity but knowing quite well he isn't God. And when he's having genuine fun and feeling some type of care/love? I think he's grateful. The emptiness is always there, though. Always haunting him. In the back of his brain. But he sees hope in Atsushi and a place to keep his promise in the agency and maybe fulfill his heart. He might always have a fucked up perception of himself, but at least he's aware that doing the right thing fills the hole in his chest more than tormenting others. As I said, he likes it there (and Chuuya) because it makes him experience humanity even if he keeps telling himself he isn't human (No Longer Human quote: "You miss her, don't you?" / "Yes." / "That's human nature, I guess").

I don't know if I helped you?? I think it's a bit of a mess, sorry 😭 It's like 3am and I don't know if what I said makes any sense, but I really hope I was able to help you!

holy FUCK it took me fifteen minutes to read all of this and i'm glad i did because this is the most succinct and articulate analysis i have ever seen of dazai's underlying nature and his ambitions in relevance to the plot OP I THINK IF ASIGIRI CANT WRITE ANYMORE YOU SHOULD TAKE OVER BSD MANGA BC I THINK U UNDERSTAND DAZAI BETTER THAN HE DOES SOMETIMES TBH💀💀 aaaa jkjk i digress you were so real for bringing up the yozo/dazai parallels bc there's genuinely so many and if i still had my fucking BOOK :side eye: i could go through the intricate and profound commentary i left in the margins but alas my dear friend insists on keeping it longer. there's nothing more i can say on this topic bc i agree w you on everything wholeheartedly i think you deserve a scholarship to harvard or smth bc god DAMN you would slay as a lit or lang major

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 16

Fic masterlist

This writer ran away because she’s too nervous to write an A/N

Warnings: language

Words: 2,5k

Aelin hadn’t slept an ink today, partially because Rowan took her sleeping pill for last night, and she brought a limited amount for this trip.

She cuddled Maisie, caressing the little girl’s back as she reminisced about what happened. Aelin’s body went stiff every time he moved in his sleep, holding her breath, trying to anticipate what would happen in this conversation that was long overdue.

Aelin liked to be private about her mental health issues, but she knew they weren’t a big deal. She wasn’t special for taking sleeping pills and antidepressants, and millions of people went through the exact same thing. Still, every time Aelin opened her mouth, she choked with the words and let them die on the back of her throat, clogging it further as the years passed by with every word she wished she’d said, but didn’t.

When Rowan’s movements went from sporadic and uncoordinated to a clear motion of him dragging his hand to scratch his eyes, Aelin’s pulse skyrocketed. She stayed frozen, unable to breathe until he turned around and gave her a faint smile.

“Morning.” Rowan’s tone was husky, and he moved closer to take a sniff at Maisie’s hair—who Aelin may or may not be using as a human shield at the moment.

“Hey.” Aelin gave him a tentative smile. “How do you feel?”

“Like I died.”

She grimaced. That was predictable, since he took sedatives he didn’t need for the first time. Aelin got up and sat on the edge of the other side of the bed, making him turn around to face her.

She held Rowan’s hand, fiddling with his knuckles and fingers. “What do you remember from last night?”

He sat up against the headboard and scratched his eyes before answering, “My mom and I were playing with Maisie, but I had a headache, probably from the sun. Then I came upstairs and… oh.” Rowan’s brows went up for a moment. “Okay, I see where you’re getting at.”

Aelin squeezed his hand, her heartbeat still fast despite his ease. “You took my sleeping pill.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that.” Rowan ran a hand through his frazzled hair, frowning. “I remember you had trouble sleeping, I just thought it was Maisie’s fault,” he mentioned how she half-lied to him about her insomnia being due to the pregnancy.

“You’re not upset I take them?” Aelin’s voice was careful, testing the waters to see how far she should go with this conversation.

“No, why would I be?” Rowan blinked, raising his eyebrows to drag his eyelids open for a second, not fully awake yet. “They’re actually quite effective. I get the appeal now.“ He sighed, looking a bit more serious now. “I just don’t get why you lied to me.”

Indeed, telling him her psych meds were headache pills wasn’t her brightest move. Aelin rubbed her hand against her forehead, trying to think of a good way to explain this, when she noticed little green eyes staring them down, Maisie’s brows wrinkled as she hid under her blankie.

Despite the unrest in the pit of Aelin’s stomach, she smiled at her daughter. “Good morning, Maisy Daisy.”

Rowan quickly picked Maisie up and put her in his lap, kissing the crown of her head. “Are you hungry?”

“Hey,” their daughter said with a hesitant tone. “Not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” Aelin wiggled her eyebrows. “I heard your grandma has chocolate cake downstairs.”

Maisie looked conflicted, chewing on her bottom lip while her eyes darted between her parents until she agreed. Aelin took the little girl’s hand and led her downstairs, leaving on a silent agreement with Rowan that he’d wait for her to come back.

“Good morning, you two,” Owen greeted, in the kitchen. If the smile he sent Aelin was soft, the one reserved for his granddaughter was absolutely mushy as he and Rory showed everything they brought from the bakery earlier today.

Maisie didn’t look like her usual self, though. Her plate still looked like a little mountain, stuffed with more food than she was capable of eating, but her expression was borderline downcast, not what Aelin expected for a morning with baked goods and her grandparents.

Aelin was putting together a small tray with two croissants and orange juice, for herself and Rowan, when she asked her daughter, “Honey, can you stay with your grandparents for a minute?” Aelin wrinkled her nose, dramatically feigning annoyance for the little girl’s sake. “Your dad and I need to talk about boring, grown-up stuff.”

“No, I want to go with you.”

Aelin snapped her head back to the little girl. “What?”

Maisie’s green eyes looked wary as she studied her mother. It was a rare thing, her being hesitant to hang out with her grandparents.

“I thought you and Daddy didn’t fight anymore.”

Her daughter’s small, concerned tone was a punch to Aelin’s gut. With all the fights, therapy and trying to make amends, she hadn’t talked about it with Maisie once. The only reason Aelin even knew the little girl was aware of it was because of her drawings and the teacher.

Truth was, Aelin wasn’t going to bring her issues with Rowan to their five-year-old daughter. But her chest felt hollow as she considered that maybe her communication with Maisie was lacking too much, making her anxious even after they were in a better place.

Aelin sat by Maisie’s side, carefully assessing the little girl’s guarded expression. “Your dad and I used to fight a lot. I bet that made you upset, huh?”

Maisie didn’t answer, just pouted with her eyes trained on her breakfast.

“I’m so sorry you saw that, Mais.” Aelin caressed the crown of her head. “But it’s okay to disagree sometimes. Remember what happens when you don’t want to stop playing before dinner?”

”I get upset.”

“And when do I get upset?”

Maisie’s expression turned sheepish. “When I yell at you.”

“That’s right.” Aelin’s tone was calm, reassuring despite the mention of her daughter’s misbehaving. “Because disagreeing is normal, what’s important is that we always respect each other.”

“But you yell at Daddy too.”

“Your father and I used to yell at each other a lot, yes.” Aelin held back a grimace, feeling her face heat when she noticed Rory and Owen both were pointedly not looking at them during her talk with Maisie. “But we realized we were wrong, apologized, and stopped it.” Aelin put a hand on the little girl’s shoulder to grab her attention further. ”Because your dad and I are friends, okay? No matter what happens, it’s never your fault, and we’ll always love you very much.”

“‘Kay.” Maisie nodded, fiddling with her spoon. “Love you too.”

“I’m going upstairs, your dad and I are not going to yell at each other, and then we’ll find you and play whatever you want. Is that okay with you?”

Maisie’s nod was solemn. “Hopscops?”

“Of course.” Aelin kissed her daughter’s forehead, grabbed her breakfast tray and excused herself from the kitchen, leaving with sympathetic looks from Rowan’s parents.

˜˜

”You’re tense.”

“I’m not,” Aelin said before chomping on her croissant. She wasn’t even hungry. In fact, Aelin felt like she could retch her breakfast any minute now. But for some reason, right now, she’d rather vomit croissant than the words stuck on her throat.

It’s not a big deal, she repeated inside her head before balking over and over again.

“You are. You’re so tense you’re making me tense too.” Rowan sipped his cup of coffee, only half aware of her anxious state. “Is this about the sleeping pills? Because I don’t mind that I took them. In fact, I don’t think I slept that well ever since Maisie was born.”

“The sleeping pills…” Aelin trailed, weighing how small those baby steps would be. “I take them with a psychiatrist.”

“Elide?”

“No, Dr. Blackbeak.” A pause. “I can see her anytime from every three weeks to every six months. It really depends on how well I’m doing.”

He frowned. “Like how well you’re sleeping?”

”Could be.” Aelin’s breaths were too shallow, her heart too fast. “But it’s mostly about how well I’m doing with my antidepressants.”

”Your…” Rowan blinked one, twice. “What?”

Aelin‘s stomach rolled, his baffled face creeped a crawling sensation on her skin. She rubbed her temple with two fingers, wondering how she should deal with his confusion. Again. If Rowan had a similar reaction from last time, she wouldn’t know what to do.

She held his face with both hands. Aelin’s voice was gentle and firm when she said, “Don’t say anything until you fully process what I’ll say, okay?” She waited until he nodded to continue, “I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder in my late teens. That doesn’t mean I’m sad all the time, I’m just prone to have depressive episodes throughout my life. One of my episodes was postpartum depression, which I’m sure you know what it is.”

Rowan‘s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“No. Think about it, talk later.”

He silently nodded then collapsed against the headboard, his eyes growing distant as if he was watching a movie in his head. Aelin watched as Rowan’s body became unnaturally still, his aimless gaze on the wall behind her going from bewildered to haunted.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then Rowan muttered something incomprehensible to himself a moment later, but Aelin decided it was better to give him more time to process it. Half because of him, half because she was dreading his next words.

“Shh.” Aelin ran a finger on his bottom lip, sealing his mouth closed. “Not yet.”

But Rowan aimed his anguished green eyes towards her, his gaze so intense it rendered her speechless. He gently took her wrist off his hand.

“I failed you.”

Aelin stiffened, a sudden coldness hitting her core. “Don’t say that.”

It could look like that depending on which angle they saw it, but it isn’t how Aelin liked to think. This wasn’t the time to argue about it with him, but even if Rowan had messed up in the past, she also did her own mistakes that led to their separation before that fateful day. Lying to him, for example. She was hoping to correct this one today.

“Aelin, I—“ He motioned to caress her face, but stopped his hand in the air. Instead, he reached to squeeze her hand. “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t even—“ Rowan let out a deep, pained breath. “I should’ve been there, Aelin. I should’ve…” He rubbed both hands on his face. “I was so mad at you, but just to think you were sick, and I left you alone in that house with Maisie, I—“

“I told you to leave, Rowan.” Her voice was gentle yet firm, but it didn’t seem to soothe him in the slightest.

“I loved you.”

Time slowed down, Aelin’s muscles went numb, her core too heavy as she struggled to grasp his words.

He loved her?

Rowan cared about her back then, Aelin was sure he did, but love?

He continued, “And if I weren’t so blind, then angry too…” Rowan muttered, his voice cracking. ”I shouldn’t have left after one fight. I should’ve asked you questions, I should’ve put you before my concerns—“

“You loved me?”

Rowan nodded, his pine-green eyes having the same agonized, crumbling look from five years ago. “I still do.”

Aelin’s mouth fell open, and she felt dizzy all of a sudden. She couldn’t think, it was her pounding heartbeat and tingling skin that made her itch to touch his skin. Aelin outstretched her hand to caress his left cheek, stroking her thumb against it and—

He flinched.

She jerked away from him, confused. Rowan just told her he loved her, didn’t he? Or did she hallucinate—

It took her a few moments to grasp what happened. This didn’t look like a standing-by-your-window-and-begging-for-your-love kind of confession. Rowan’s posture was hunched, and the crease between his brows and ragged breath was a painstaking portrayal of his tormented state.

Aelin had five years to process what happened. So far, Rowan had five minutes.

It wasn’t the right time to make a romantic advance, so Aelin moved to sit next to him and hug him. However, he was the one to hold her instead.

“I should’ve been there with you, I… I won’t make the same mistake twice. I promise.” He kissed the crown of Aelin’s head, holding her as if she was his lifeline. “And if you need me, I can…” Rowan sighed, running his palm against his face. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, but I’ll do it.”

“Hey!” Aelin exclaimed, trying to lighten up the mood. “I’m a big girl, okay? I can take care of myself. I just wanted you to know.”

“I know you can, it’s just…” he trailed, crumbling against the headboard. “How did you handle things? When Maisie was little.”

“Littler, you mean? Is that even a word?”

Rowan squeezed her hand. “Tell me.”

“Shared custody broke my heart, but it allowed me to have time for myself.” Aelin closed her eyes, supporting her head against his shoulder as a bittersweet feeling took over her. “Turns out my family got so overbearing after you left the house, their assistance almost made me lose my mind.” Aelin snorted, overwhelmed with memories of her fussy family. “Dorian was there almost every weekday, even after Fenrys moved into his house.”

“And how about you?”

“Healing was a… painfully slow process, but I was in a really good place when Maisie was a toddler.”

“Really?” Rowan sounded almost like himself now, his tone close to a tease. “I’m pretty sure my job only got harder when Maisie learned how to speak.”

She laughed at his snarky comment, her chest filling with warmth. Parenting such an argumentative little girl wasn’t an easy job indeed, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Aelin didn’t know if her reveal was a success or not. Rowan was understanding, yes, which she was grateful for, but she didn’t expect him to feel guilt. To be honest, she didn’t want him to feel bad about it at all. Aelin just wanted to forget about that whole thing and move forward with him.

“And how did you get to see Yrene every week?” Rowan frowned. “I can’t imagine going to her office every week when Maisie was a baby.”

“I was seeing Nesryn back then, Yrene’s kind of a recent addition. And I had online sessions.”

“Oh.” Rowan’s brows went up. “I forgot that was an option.”

Aelin chuckled and snuggled him further. Whereas she hadn’t forgotten about her promise to play hopscotch with Maisie, right now, Aelin just wanted to hold Rowan in bed and answer the million questions he had.

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[ja-reau]

helloooo!!

can i ask preggo reader x Larissa fluff?

something like reader telling Larissa the news or either Larissa comforting reader when they’ve gone into labor🥹

or anything really, i’m just in need for family fluff💕😭

Surprise! - Larissa Weems x Reader

I'm so sorry that I'm taking longer to get around to my asks! I've been so busy working all week.

Word Count: 680

Warnings: pregnancy

You were beyond stressed out. You had missed your period last week and you were starting to feel sick in the mornings. The first thought that went through your mind was pregnancy. But that was impossible. You were dating Larissa. There was no way for her to even get you pregnant. Right? Of course, you didn’t take into account the fact that you both weren’t fully human anyways. At least you. Being part Witch meant you weren’t fully human. And well, Larissa was a shapeshifter. But still. Neither one of you could get pregnant, right? 

And then you remembered what you two did in the bedroom a couple of weeks ago. It all made sense now. You had used your magic and she had shifted a part of her body. But neither of you thought that this little experiment would end with you becoming pregnant. Or, potentially, at least. You had just come back from the pharmacy in Jericho, a pregnancy test in your bag. Once you got home and took the test, you paced back and forth. What if it was positive? And you were really pregnant? What then? You were both excited and scared. You and Larissa had spoken about getting married and starting a family for a while now. You were both doing well financially, so a child was no problem in that department. 

But what if Larissa wasn’t ready for a child? Oh god, what if she thought you cheated on her? And didn’t hear you out and broke up with you? Then what? You let your mind continue to wander as you waited. You were pulled out of your own thoughts when the timer on your phone went off. Oh god, it was time. You let out a shaky breath before you went to the counter and took a look. 

It was positive. You were pregnant and you were having a baby. You were having Larissa’s baby. Tears started to well at your eyes, but as you wiped them away, you realised they were happy tears. 

—

You were a bundle of nerves by the time you got to Larissa’s office door. You knocked, holding onto a small box with your other hand. “Come in!” you heard her voice call out. You walked in, and her face lit up with a smile. “Darling! What a lovely surprise. What are you doing here?” she asked you, motioning for you to come in and sit. You closed and locked the door behind you as you walked over to her. “I needed to give you something.” you said, moving to put the box down on the desk. She raised an eyebrow. “It couldn’t wait?” Larissa asked and you shook your head. You stayed standing. If she reacted poorly, you wanted to escape as fast as possible. She took the box and opened it, looking down. She looked up at you with confusion for a split second before she had the same epiphany that you did early in the day. Her face lit up. “Surprise!” you said, relief washing over you when you saw the look on her face. “Are you serious?" Larissa asked you, setting the box down and moving towards you, pulling you into her arms.  “I’m serious.” you said back. 

“Oh my darling, I’m so excited. I can’t believe this.” Larissa said, pulling back from the hug slightly. Her hand instinctively moved onto your stomach, despite there being no physical evidence of you being pregnant yet. “Me neither.” you said, tears welling at your eyes again. She cupped your cheeks, leaning down to kiss you. “I cannot wait to start a family with you, princess.” she said softly after she pulled back from the kiss. “Me too. I can’t believe this is actually happening.” you whispered softly. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry? Have you eaten yet today?” Larissa asked you, protective mode turned on. You couldn’t help but chuckle at her. “I’m feeling more than okay. And yes, I did eat. But I could go for lunch. After all, I am eating for two now.”

Tags:

@sapphicsbeloved

@lesbianbookworm15

@rwoolfe

[woo-wahhhh]

[ hello, my sunshine–; just the intimacy of sitting in the sunlight and bathing in the warmth with alhaitham ] 

the sound of the antique mahogany clock you gifted alhaitham a couple months ago echoed through his home. it was admittedly out of place, a mondstadt style clock in his house filled with sumeru style furniture, yet it was placed delicately by the stained glass windows. light streamed through them, the sunlight blending into the shades of green and turquiose before it hit the rest of the room. 

the man of the hour himself could be found dozing away on his couch, coloured diamonds reflecting on his blemish free skin. he looked uncharacteristically peaceful while asleep, one hand lying on his stomach and the other just barely holding onto a book as it hung off the side of his couch. he was entirely relaxed– you could tell from the way his ear pieces were left on the coffee table and the fact he didn’t even flinch when you accidentally called out his name before you realized he was asleep.

you thought it’d be funny to wake him up after travelling to liyue for a couple weeks, but at the sight of him sleeping so contently, you couldn’t help but put aside that plan. 

you would’ve left but it would be awkward to leave as soon as kaveh had let you in before leaving to go meet with a client, or so he told you. so there you were, crouched by alhaitham’s side, idly gazing at his content expression. 

“how tired are you that you didn’t even hear my footsteps?” you murmur to yourself, setting your chin on your knees. you suppose even alhaitham could overwork himself, especially taking in the recent crisis in sumeru into consideration. 

“alhaitham,” you called impulsively, stretching out his name in a singsong tone as you decided to impulsively reach forward and poke his cheek. he had surprisingly squishy cheeks, you noted as you pinched him. “alhaitham,” you repeated.

“god, why must i be surrounded by nuisances?” ah, so sleeping beauty is awake, you giggled to yourself. you were tugging his cheek at the same time as he spoke so his words came out muffled.

“good morning, sleepyhead. i didn’t think a day would come where kaveh would be awake and working before you, but i suppose even pigs can fly if we try hard enough,” you teased. 

alhaitham, though now awake, hadn’t opened his eyes fully, squinting when the harsh sunlight hit his face. you took note of the unpleased expression on his face, so you reached forward to shade his eyes with your hands. 

“what are you doing?” he said, sitting up to rub his eyes furiously. you weren’t particularly bothered by the tiny sliver of irritation in his voice; you knew that was just how he spoke.

“nothing much,” you chirped with a sweet grin, “i’m just really happy to see you again.”

you two weren’t exactly the types to beat around the bush, and neither were you two particularly the types to be easily flustered, so your confession wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

but perhaps it was his sleep addled brain being far more irrational than his normal self, but he was awfully enchanted by that dazzling smile you’d just given him.

“did you just come back from liyue?” he murmured, reaching down to carefully trace the back of his hand against your jaw before pressing his hand onto your cheek. you thought he looked quite handsome like that, his silver hair falling over his eyes and the sunlight illuminating his figure as you sat down on the rug.

“mhm,” you hummed, pressing your own hand over his, threading your fingers between the spaces in between. his skin was rough to touch, fingers calloused from his time spent using his swords. “it’s okay, though, i’m not very tired. besides, seeing you is energizing enough.”

“i think someone’s lying,” alhaitham snorted, though his face remained passive examined yours, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. “don’t think i can’t see those bags under your eyes. knowing you, you probably got too caught up with exploring to actually sleep, huh?” he accused.

“ack, i’m busted, aren’t i?” you returned, playfully gasping. 

“indeed, you are, and if my deductions are correct, then you didn’t come here to see me, rather you came here to take a nap because my bed has a better mattress than that sad excuse of one in your apartment, no?”

that got a deadpan out of you, which in turn pulled a smug grin out of him. “could you not call me out like that? and for the record, yes, yes i did come here for your bed, but i also came here to see you.”

“mhm, and i’m gonna go accept the kshahrewar funding request today,”

“you are?”

“no,” he deadpanned, “i’m clearly going to reject it again.”

“poor kaveh,” you muttered listlessly. “one of these days, he’s gonna murder you and stage it as an accident.”

alhaitham laughed with such bemusement, you felt a bit more pity for kaveh. “i’d like to see that guy try.”

“well, you can do that later today, but can i please borrow your bed? i’m genuinely exhausted...” you thought your puppy eyes were good enough to convince him, but perhaps as revenge, he only smirked as he gave your cheek a good pinch. 

“hmm... how about no?” alhaitham suggested, awfully smug as you tried fruitlessly to pry his fingers away from you. “you can sleep here though,”

“on your couch? no thanks,”

“no, idiot, with me. what happened to coming here to see me, hm? or are you so cruel to–,”

“okay, okay, fine! no need to guilt trip me!” you pouted, holding his gaze dramatically. “just let me go grab a blanket from your room,” you huffed.

“... in this weather?”

“yes?” you quirked an eyebrow up. “what? it’s perfectly normal to get a blanket if i’m cold,”

“you’re cold in this weather?” alhaitham reiterated. “it’s warm enough because of how sunny it is.”

“do you want me to sleep beside your or not?” you demanded, jabbing a finger in his face. “assuming it’s yes, i hope you know you’re going to have to sleep on your side because i intend to sleep like a log on my back.”

“alright, alright,” he chuckled.

as always, nothing amused him more than an argument. how awful of him, you often thought but he always had the most boyish smile when he bickered with you, so you let it slide. 

letting out a satisfied huff, you pushed yourself onto your knees in order to go grab a blanket. you were about to stand up, however, you paused when alhaitham called out your name, his hand once again cradling your cheek. 

before you could ask what was up, your voice died in your throat when he swiftly pressed his forehead against yours, lips barely a centimetre away from yours– hell, when he spoke, your lips brushed against his. the proximity was dizzying, and you could tell he enjoyed the sudden speechlessness of yours from the way his emerald green eyes crinkled into crescent moons.

“don’t leave me hanging for too long,” he murmured, promptly capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

 your eyes squeezed shut, the heat rising up your neck and across your cheeks as his lips moved against yours without a break, barely holding in a gasp when his tongue swiped against them. your hand had long flown up to grasp his forearm, but it still felt absolutely maddening, the way the tiniest of action from alhaitham could have you melting to putty.

you were thankful he pulled away when he did, because you didn’t know how much you could take of such breathtaking delirium, lest you pass out embarrassingly as he gave your bottom lip a brief bite.

“what,” you began, chest heaving, though you couldn’t hide the creeping smile on your bitten lips, “was that for?” your face flushed strawberry red, as was your ears and neck, and perhaps he should’ve kept a kamera on hand from how smitten he felt just from your embarrassed expression. 

“a welcome back present, what else?”

[indigosunsetao3]

Would It Be Enough?

Chapter 20 - Yours

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Rated E - Please read the tags on A03 for any of your triggers

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Original FMC 9.0k words - AO3 Link

Emma's knees nearly buckled out from under her when Soap spoke aloud. It was a voice she thought she may never hear again and she had to lean her hip up against the bed to keep from falling out fully. Pulling her hand back from behind his ear she gripped his face gently with both hands, grinning as he slowly blinked a few times to try and focus his eyesight. “Took you long enough,” Emma breathed as she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips gently. “I was beginning to think you enjoyed keeping me waiting,” she finished reaching up to smooth his hair back from his forehead with one hand as he shifted his head to the side a bit to look around.

“I’d never purposely keep you waiting,” he answered after returning the kiss, though it was weak on his part. “But you do remember the part of where I was shot and stabbed, right?” Soap asked, the humor in his words evident even if his voice was still nothing more than a rasp. Despite being awake he still didn’t feel fully there just yet. He’d been hospitalized plenty of times before, been knocked out and put back together more times than he could remember but this was different. Without knowing exactly how long he had been gone Soap was acutely aware it had been a while based on how he physically felt. His body felt disused, sluggish and his brain was fogged, and vision was still a bit out of focus as he continued to squint at the brightness of the light in the room.

“I remember it a little too well actually,” Emma answered as she darted her eyes over to look at his monitors. Everything was staying at its normal baseline and she grinned a bit while she tried to ignore the nagging fear that this was too good to be true. “How are you feeling? I can get you some ice,” she finished knowing from experience his mouth and throat had to be dry and painful. She needed to go get his doctors, he would need a full evaluation, medicine update, and a plethora of tests but selfishly she wanted to keep him to herself for a little while longer.

“Little dazed,” Soap answered truthfully as he forced his arm to bend so his hand could reach up and cover her own that was resting on his cheek. He wanted to hold her hand back like he had felt her hold him so many times while he was out. Despite not being fully conscious Soap had been coming around for a while now. It had only been snippets here and there between long jaunts of just darkness. He heard voices speaking the room, sometimes they were muffled and others they were as clear as day. He’s also heard Emma crying a few times as she begged him to just wake up, move, do something. It had been infuriating, and terrifying, to scream at his body to move and reach out to no avail.

“And you? How are you doing? Your back was ripped to shreds…” he trailed off as the heart rate monitor shot up, the memories along with the anger catching up with his body again. Things were coming back to him in spurts as if puzzle pieces were being put into place. “The team?” He tacked on, eyes darting around the room as if he just remembered the rest of the 141 were in the truck with them and they weren’t in the room.

“I’m okay, lots of stitches but I’ll be fine,” Emma said softly as she pulled her hand away from his cheek and gripped his hand instead. “Everyone else is okay as well. Alex has barely left my side and Ghost is in here with you most of the time,” she looked at the door surprised he hadn’t walked in yet, he usually ate his breakfast and then sat in the corner reading when Emma left for her therapy. “You need to keep that heart rate down though,” Emma grinned as she squeezed his fingers, “I need to go get your doctor so they can evaluate you,” she felt his fingers tense. “I’ll be back in just a moment, I promise, I thought I was going to lose you and now that you’re okay I’m going to be stuck to you like glue. You’re going to be sick of me before long.”

“Never,” Soap answered with a smile before coughing a bit as Emma slid her fingers out of his grasp. He watched her quickly dart toward the door, stopping to glance back at him as if to assure herself he was awake. He gave her a small nod before she disappeared into the hall, shutting the door behind her. In the silence of the room, aside from the small radio playing softly, Soap looked down at himself. His side was still bandaged down by his ribs and his left arm was also wrapped up tight over his gunshot. It was disorienting to blackout in the back of a truck still in your gear with blood everywhere then wake up in clean soft clothes in a very sterile-looking room.

“Gaz,” Emma breathed as she jogged out toward the nurse’s station, having not seen anyone in the hall. He was on the phone and writing furiously in a notebook when he snapped his head up to look at her. Her voice sounded frantic and the look on her face caused him to tell the person on the line to hold as he stared. “Gaz where is the doctor?” Emma asked as she whipped her head to the side and then leaned to try and look around a wall.

“I’m not sure,” he replied, slipping his hand over the microphone of the phone, “what’s the matter? Did something happen?” She looked frantic and he was about to round the corner of the counter to run toward Soap’s room when Emma held her hand up to him.

“Nothing’s the matter,” Emma answered with a smile, “he’s up. He just…woke up like it was nothing,” she was grinning so wide that Gaz couldn’t help but return the smile. “I need to find the doctor; they’ll want to run a few tests and assessments now that he’s awake. Make sure everything is how it should be. Have you seen Ghost or Alex? Someone needs to let Price know,” she rambled on, turning on her heel to see if anyone else was around.

“I’ll take care of the team,” Gaz answered as he lifted the phone to his ear and stated he would have to call whoever it was on the line back. “I saw one of the nurses a few minutes ago, I’m sure she’ll know,” he stated as he pocketed his notebook. Emma knew the team was still working on taking down the Russian cell, even while they were posted inside the hospital. The Americans had agreed to assist finally so they were running most of the groundwork while the 141 did intelligence gathering.

It didn’t take Emma long to locate a nurse and explain through the limited language and hand gestures what she needed. The nurse seemed apprehensive as Emma led her back to the room but when they opened the door and Soap gave a very half-hearted wave of his hand, she ran off to get the medical team in charge of his care. Emma entered the room and took up a chair out of the way and a moment later Ghost appeared in the doorway, looking as if he had run from wherever he had been, followed closely by Gaz and Alex. They only had a few moments together to appreciate Soap’s recovery before doctors kicked everyone out, the room too small to fit them all, to do their assessments. No one went far though, all of them waited in the hallway for the rest of the day.

“You need to eat,” Soap said a few hours later, his voice had returned back to normal though he sounded exhausted after everything. “Just because I’m stuck with this,” he shook his bottle of protein drink, he was strictly on a liquid diet until they worked him back to solid foods, “doesn’t mean you have to starve.” He nodded his head toward Emma who was sitting right by his side, her chair scooted as close to his bed as possible.

“I know, but the food isn’t that great anyway,” Emma said as she picked at the overcooked noodles of her pasta. She had been too busy fussing over Soap to pay attention to anything else, skipping lunch and only accepting dinner when a nurse shoved the tray at her and ordered her to eat. Despite being so sure he would come back to her, she was still in a state of shock that he had, finding herself constantly looking at him to assure herself he was there and it wasn’t a dream. When the rest of the team had been allowed in the room to talk and catch up Emma just watched Soap in silence with a disbelieving grin on her face. Then throughout his small catnaps during the day Emma just held his hand, grinning when he would lightly squeeze her fingers back in his half-asleep daze.

“Probably still better than this swill,” Soap answered as he took a sip and pulled a face. He was only allowed to eat in small increments which meant he had to consume his nutrition more often. Emma hadn’t moved though, her eyes watching him as he shook the bottle again to mix it. “Eat,” he said again, ever the commanding tone in his voice even if he grinned, “I’m not going anywhere. I doubt I could stand up if I tried anyway,” he shifted his legs a bit which felt like they were weighed down with lead. The doctors were already talking about rehabilitation and he knew it was going to be a long tiring road to get back to his full potential.

Emma sighed and began to eat her food, not tasting or enjoying it, before she took up the small cup with her nightly medication in it and swallowed them down. “We’ll get you moving soon enough,” Emma stated as she attempted to break apart the stale piece of bread they gave her with her meal but gave up when it just crumbled and flaked. “They’ve been relentless with my recovery. Constantly making me move, lifting weights, stretching, ice baths for my legs” she sighed and stretched her arms above her head. They had given her the day off considering all that transpired, not that Emma would have listened to them if they tried to pull her away anyway. “Stitches still pull a bit when they make me work my shoulder,” she added after a moment. That was the last part of her back that was still stitched. The rest had either closed up enough on their own that they didn’t need any sort of help or she was downgraded to steri-strips and glue.

Soap finished his shake and set the bottle on the small table that was across his bed, his eyes tracking Emma’s movements. She looked exhausted, there were still deep purple circles under her eyes and she was pale, though not as bad as she had been when he had found her in the bunker. “How are you?” He asked after a moment, his words careful and low. They still hadn’t talked about anything that had happened, what had ended them all in this situation, to begin with. He had talked to the rest of the 141 to get a quick recap of what transpired but none of them had discussed anything in depth outside of confirming Crane was dead and the Americans were helping to take down the cell. Alex had mentioned in passing, when Emma stepped out to talk to a nurse, that Emma hadn’t spoken to anyone about what happened to her and usually changed the subject if anyone even hinted toward it.

“I’m fine, just a little tired and stiff. Sitting in a chair all day will do that I guess,” Emma answered with a shrug as she took the tray off her lap and set it on the nightstand before grabbing Soap’s finished drink and adding it to her things. She pushed the wheeled table that rested over his legs away and as she was about to turn and ask him if he wanted the radio Soap grabbed her hand. It was a weak grab but he had moved with a purpose and she felt him tug on her slightly. “What?” She asked smiling a bit as she twisted and rested her hip up against the bed to look at him, lacing her fingers into his.

“Emma,” Soap said quietly, “how are you. I can see you are up and moving fine but what’s going on inside of that head of yours?” He knew he was going to need to work through and process everything that he had been through but he had just woken up hours ago. Emma had been up for over a week and according to Alex, she was behaving like nothing had happened. Soap knew how that went, it never worked things always caught up and the sooner you dealt and began to heal from them the better. “What happened to you is not,” he started but Emma cut him off, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t,” Emma said quickly, knowing where he was trying to go. “Not yet, I’m not,” she sighed and took a steadying breath, “can we not? Just not right now?” She asked knowing that the smile she was putting up was tense. “I just got you back, I don’t want to talk about all of…that. Let’s just enjoy this now. We have plenty of time to discuss the rest,” she finished.

All of them had tried to get her to talk about what happened at one point but she had shut them down, not wanting to even think about it. She used the excuse that she had to focus on Johnny and getting him recovered, that she was too busy to think about herself. Price had even tried when he found her lost in her thoughts staring at nothing one evening. He had used one of his own experiences to try and talk her through it but she had shot him down and walked out of the room without another word. She still needed to apologize for that one. She knew the men understood what she was dealing with but it still felt wrong to talk about. Made it too real. Johnny being dead on the gurney in front of her had hurt too much the first go around to try and talk about it so soon and when his life was still in limbo she knew she couldn’t have handled a discussion.

“The funny thing about time,” Soap said after a moment, “is it tends to move pretty fast. And before you know it, you’ve compartmentalized things you shouldn’t and it eats at you slowly from the inside. Take it from someone who still hasn’t learned that lesson.” He gave her a small smile as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand. He figured she was still going to resist him, could see it in the way her eyes darted away from his face to try and avoid eye contact. He shifted his head a bit to try and get into her downcast view but he couldn’t move far enough. “You don’t have to talk to me, or any of us if you don’t want to,” he began but Emma’s eyes flashed back to his and he saw a shift in her face. Shit. “Lass,” he shifted on the bed a bit to try and sit up more to pull her into him.

“I still see it,” Emma said quietly as the tears that were ever present behind her eyes spilled down her cheeks. “See him hurting you, feel his hands on me,” she sighed and wiped furiously at her face, “smell the salt water.” She groaned frustrated as she turned her head again from Soap to try and blink back the tears. “I wake up and it takes me a second to remember where I’m at, I’ve made them leave a light on in my room so it’s not dark when I wake up. Last time it was dark I almost had a panic attack. Crane liked to leave me in the dark,” she muttered before slamming her eyes shut to try and compose herself. Just saying his name brought back flashes of his face, of his voice, and images of his body hanging there at the end.

“Those things will fade over time,” Soap said after a moment, grunting as he moved out of sheer willpower to shift up the incline on his bed. The doctors said his wounds were healed enough that he didn’t run the risk of dying from them anymore but that didn’t mean they hurt any less. “I won’t lie and say they go away because they don’t ever fully go,” he moved his left arm to shift himself over on the bed to make room for her. He hissed through his teeth at the stiffness and pulling sensation in his muscle from the gunshot wound from the movement but he still managed to maneuver anyway. “But you’ll learn how to deal with them so they aren’t always in the forefront,” he patted the bed next to him where he had made room, “come here.”

Emma had started when Soap moved and she instantly moved to try and help him but he did it on his own. Her eyes darted to his arm to make sure the bandages held before going to his side, everything looked fine. “I can’t make the thoughts stop,” Emma breathed out as she shifted a bit on the bed staring at the small space he had made. It was going to be tight and she was nervous to knock into him but she really did just want to hold him, and be held, right now. “I keep myself busy but the second I let my guard down they’re back. It’s like he’s still torturing me,” she let her shoulders slump, it was as if she had let the floodgates down and everything was coming out now after days of keeping it locked away.

“I know,” Soap said gently as he tugged at her hand again to get her to come to him. She bent at his second tug and shifted around on the bed. It was tight and he clenched his teeth together to keep from grunting as he raised his left arm higher than he probably should so she could curl up against his good side. The doctors would be pissed if they walked in now and saw this but he didn’t care, he needed her against him as badly as she needed him right now.

Emma was quick in her movements, her smaller frame folding up against his side like so many nights in the past. Her leg was twined around his above the sheet and her head was pressed against his shoulder near the crook of his neck. It was like they were made for one another for how seamlessly they fit together, even in a creaky old hospital bed. Her cheek was wet as it pressed into his bare skin and despite the fact she was crying Soap felt content at the contact, it felt like coming home to him.

“It’ll get better,” Soap promised after she had stopped silently crying. Her arm was wrapped around his chest and holding his other shoulder, careful to avoid his ribs as she pressed herself tightly against him. “We’ll get through it all together,” he said as he ran the fingertips of his right hand gently up and down her arm. “I have someone you can talk to if you want. She’s helped me through a few of my own issues,” he paused and kissed the top of Emma’s head. “Her office is not far from my place,” he explained lightly before grinning as he felt Emma still at his words. That was just what he was going for.

“Your place? Where?” Emma asked as the words sank in for her and she shifted her head up to look at him. He was smirking.

“Ghost was right you know,” he said smoothly, “that I could still hear you, I don’t remember all of it but there’s some stuff I recall.” He waited for Emma to put the pieces into place and he saw the telltale look on her face when she figured out what he was talking about. “You asked me to take you back to Scotland, show you where I grew up,” he shrugged his head to the side a bit, “I figure I’ve got a little bit of leave coming my way after all of this, some time to recover before I’m at it again. Come back with me,” he stated though it was more of a question.

Emma smiled, though it was a bit watery and she knew her face was a blotchy mess from all the crying. “Are you sure?” She inquired, “I mean I don’t want to, you know, intrude,” she stumbled a bit before laughing at Soap’s face that he gave her. “I’d like that,” she said finally before pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I want to be wherever you are.”

Soap grinned broadly at that before settling himself back down on the bed, adjusting himself down a bit and closing his eyes. He knew it was only a matter of time before a nurse walked in and forced Emma out of the bed but he was going to enjoy the closeness that they were sharing. It was something he had been terrified he would never get again when she had been ripped from him all those days ago. But now as her breath slowed and her tense muscles relaxed against him Soap found he had never been more at ease.

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Four months later

The old townhouse in the Scottish Highlands had finally started to feel more like a home in the past few weeks. When Emma and Soap first arrived late one night the air was stagnant inside with a thick layer of dust over everything and no amenities. Since Soap was barely ever home he didn’t bother with anything to make it feel cozy or welcoming and Emma had to dig in boxes to find a few extra blankets for the bed since the place was freezing. After that first night though, Emma had gone to work to make the place a little livelier. Fully unpacking all of Soap’s items that were piled in boxes throughout the house, going to the store to stock back up on all the necessities and even purchasing a few plants which Soap warned her would be left to fend on their own when they were called back into the field.

Standing in the kitchen Soap took in the downstairs of the house, sipping on his water after getting back from a run. He had begun working on his stamina now that everything was fully healed. Running every morning, hitting the gym most afternoons and even working out at home in the evening with Emma to help her with her own physical therapy and strength training. She had started her own healing journey and was seeing the therapist in town that he had used in the past. It had been a rough few weeks when she started, the night terrors pulling them both out of sleep were a normal occurrence. She still had the panic attacks and nightmares but they were coming less and less frequently, though Soap still saw the haunted look in her eyes when something triggered her.

Glancing at the clock showed it was barely six, which meant Emma was hopefully still asleep. She had been up late the night before reading, another hobby she had picked back up now that they had more quiet time. There had been plenty of times he had to literally drag her into bed to get some sleep and pry the book from her hands. He knew the stories were an escape for her, as his drawings were for him, though he hadn’t picked up his sketchbook in a while. The images in his mind weren’t ones he was ready to put down on paper yet.

Slipping into the shower Soap made quick work of his wash down, pausing to look at the still pink skin under his ribs that slashed straight down his side toward his hip. Just another scar to add to his ever-growing collection. He knew he had been lucky, beyond lucky, this time and in those quiet moments he wondered to himself how long until all that luck finally ran out. How long could he keep fighting the good fight and come home? Now that he had the drive to come home that was. Before he was just a good soldier in the field that would do whatever it took no matter what, sacrificing himself for one of his brothers. But now? Now he had someone depending and waiting on him and he wasn’t sure how much he was willing to risk anymore. He nearly lost his chance with her once and Soap didn’t know if he wanted to do it again.

Wrapping a towel around his hips Soap walked back into the bedroom and paused at the sight before him. Emma was sprawled out on her stomach on the bed, her head tilted to the side and eyes still closed with sleep. She was barely covered in the sheet, leaving much of her bare back exposed in the weak morning sunlight. Her back, while still beautiful to him, was covered in scars. Much of her whipping injuries had left dark red gashes and lumps on her back. The knife slash that dug along her shoulder blade mingled with a scar from one of her old surgeries was the worst, the skin raised and jagged where the doctors did their best to repair it. She was self-conscious of them, never wanting to look at them in the mirror and always wearing leggings to cover the matching marks on the backs of her knees.

It angered Soap that she felt the need to hide but his anger wasn’t at her, it was at Crane. For what he had done to her, to them, to everyone. He had caused irreparable damage that was still echoing after his death, which had been conveniently covered up and swept under the rug to prevent an international incident. Soap still hadn’t received the whole story yet but Ghost had passed along a heavily redacted file that the bunker under the barn was destroyed along with all the evidence of what happened.

Crossing the room Soap took a seat on his side of the bed and reached over to brush some of Emma’s hair off her face, running his hand over her cheek before gently sliding his fingers down her neck and shoulders. He felt her body shiver from the touch and she shifted a bit coming out of her sleep with a little groan. “Sorry,” Soap said with a small chuckle, waking her up when she wasn’t ready to be awoken still wasn’t advisable. He had been on the receiving end of her half-asleep cursing a few times already. “Couldn’t help myself,” Soap finished as he leaned down to kiss her shoulder as she stretched out a bit “all this bare skin on display is too tempting.”

“What time is it?” Emma asked as she attempted to roll but Soap had pressed his hand down on her back to keep her where she was. It was habit for her now to keep her back hidden, she didn’t like looking at it, didn’t like the doctors seeing it, or even risk people getting a glimpse of it if she could help it. So much so that she never wore anything less than a t-shirt anymore and made sure she covered up even when she went to bed. When the lights were out and Soap reached for her in the dark, as he had done the night before, it was a bit easier for her to ditch the clothes because there was no chance of either of them seeing the marks. Her eyes were looking around to where he had thrown her shirt, spotting it stuck on the small chair near the foot of the bed, before she took in the fact he was sitting there in a towel. “You’ve already showered? What time did you go running?”

“I was out the door by quarter of five,” Soap answered with a small shrug. He had awoken from a nightmare and had flown out of bed as fast as possible. He didn’t want to wake Emma; she hadn’t been sleeping through the night very often and he didn’t want to be the reason she was awoken this time. “Stopped at the farm for a bit and watched the farmers letting out the sheep,” he grinned. While this wasn’t where he grew up, his hometown had been a rough area, this was the place he loved. It was slow-paced, simple, and most importantly unobtrusive. People were friendly but they didn’t pry into other’s business and no one batted an eye when he brought an American girl to the local pub for dinner on their second night back into town. He’d take her to where he grew up one day when he was ready to face that. “I was too early for the corner shop to get you a muffin, I can go back out though,” he added as his fingers danced down her spine to the dip of her lower back, careful to keep his eyes on her face to watch for any reaction.

“Mmm, no,” Emma answered as she reached out a hand to grab the hand he was using to lean on and support himself on the bed then tugged. “I think you should come back to bed instead,” she stated simply. She wasn’t ready to leave the softness and warmth of the sheets and judging by the clouds outside the window it was going to start raining any minute. “We have a few hours until our call with Laswell,” she coaxed, “unless you have somewhere to be.”

Laswell had been checking in on them periodically and providing quick updates on the rest of the team when she could. The 141 was still at it, back out in the field taking care of things though Laswell couldn’t tell them too much of what those things were on unsecured lines. She had assured both Soap and Emma that their spots on the team were still there, that Ghost wouldn’t let her fill them if she tried anyway, but for them to continue to take their time to recoup. Emma still wasn’t sure what she wanted. She wanted the work, though after viewing her bank account one day she realized she certainly didn’t need the money anymore. The money transfers had hit her account in the same large increments every day for a week solid and she had asked Johnny if it was some kind of joke. The amount of money was not what she agreed to on her work contract, it was almost four times the amount. Soap just laughed and informed her that Laswell took care of her own and he had a sneaking suspicion that many of her family’s debts had disappeared as well.

“Back to bed?” Soap asked as he shifted to lean over her, using both of his hands to grip where her neck met her shoulders and squeezing lightly. “But what if I’m not tired?” He asked as he kneaded the soft skin, grinning as he earned an appreciative moan and Emma shifted a bit to pull her hair further off her neck and back. “I thought we could maybe walk down to the grocer, we’re running low on a few things, and maybe make a quick stop into the bookshop,” he added with an eyebrow raise as he continued to work her muscles, careful to not squeeze too hard on her still sensitive skin.

“Just because I want you to come back to bed doesn’t mean you have to sleep,” Emma retorted simply as she forced herself to ignore the fact her back was on full display and instead enjoyed the moment. Her therapist had been working with her on accepting her new self, that there was nothing wrong with it and instead embrace it and let Soap help her with it. He too was covered in marks and scars and he never tried to hide them, even letting Emma sit on his lap and question each one and get the story that went with them when she couldn’t sleep or felt particularly self-conscious. “You could just draw, or read a book with me,” she groaned a little again as he found a knot between her shoulder blades and he worked it out. “Or keep doing this,” she tacked on with a small chuckle.

Soap kept up his ministrations in silence for a while, his fingers making quick work of the tense spots he found in her back before sliding the blankets off her lower body and moving down to her legs. He could tell that despite the fact her body was relaxed under him her mind was going a million miles an hour. She hadn’t allowed him to really see her properly in weeks so this was progress even if she was questioning it. “Get out of your head,” Soap said after a moment as his fingers massaged her thighs just below the curve of her butt. “Be in the moment,” he continued, knowing that the therapist had given her that tactic because she had already given it to him to use when he was having flashbacks. “What do you feel right now?” He traced a finger up the inside of her thigh getting dangerously close to her center before dragging it down to her knee.

“I feel,” Emma started before hesitating and biting her lip at his finger before he pulled it away again, “your hands on me. The sheets on my feet, a bit of a breeze from the fan,” Emma listed slowly and quietly. She kept her eyes closed as she attempted to keep her brain at the moment and not worry about everything else outside of her control. It was a losing battle though; she could feel the breeze on her back from the fan and it kept drawing her mind to the scars peppering her skin and what caused them. She was going to back out and roll, the thoughts were catching up too quickly, “I think I,” she gasped as she felt Soap bend over and place a kiss right along her spine, “I feel your lips.” That had certainly distracted her from running away.

“What else?” Soap asked with a grin as he kissed his way further up her back, his hands sliding back between her legs to push her thighs a little further apart to make more room for him. She obliged without question so he positioned himself between her legs on his knees, his hands planted on either side of her as he leaned over her again and kissed one of her scars. He knew she was about to back down so he acted quickly, planting another kiss to keep her pleasantly distracted.

“Your knees brushing my thighs,” Emma breathed out as she kept her eyes closed just feeling what he was doing instead of watching. “My scars,” she said after a second as he seemed to be drawing his lips over every mark on her back in a slow, soft rhythm. She stiffened a bit at the thought of it but fought to remain in the gentle moment they were having together. “Johnny,” Emma breathed squirming a bit, “you don’t have to do,” she started but Soap cut her off.

“Do what?” Soap asked as he moved to grip her hips and tug her backside closer to him so she could feel him pressing against her. “Admire you?” He questioned lightly as he moved his mouth up to her neck and bit down gently into the soft skin, laughing as she gasped. “Desire you?” He kissed the spot he abused, “because you’re the sexiest goddamn woman I have ever seen,” he continued, his lips brushing over her ear. “And keeping my hands to myself is a fucking problem when you’re laying in my bed naked.”

“You know what I mean,” Emma ground out, though her fight was weak. If his goal had been to get her out of the anxiety loop in her head he had done that. Her skin was humming with anticipation of what was next. “You don’t have to look at my back, I can roll,” she started and adjusted to try and show her intent to move again but Soap pressed his weight down on her holding her there.

“Emma,” Soap said gently as he slid his palm up her back in a soothing gesture, “when I said you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen I meant it. That means all of you,” he continued, “you think I care about these?” He ran his finger along a particularly long gash that wrapped toward her side, “I’m covered in marks, scars, and bullet wounds. Do you find them unattractive on me?” He stayed silent waiting for an answer which he knew would be no, and Emma didn’t say a word. “Exactly. So why is it so hard for you to believe me? I mean I know you can feel the attraction,” he laughed as he pushed up against her and saw her breath catch.

“I know,” Emma dared to say after a moment, opening her eyes to look over at him. “It’s just, hard when it’s so new and,” she paused, “I just need time is all.” She saw Soap nod as he ran his thumb over the most jagged wound on her back. “I believe you; I just can’t get myself to look at it the same,” she finished as he continued to gently trace his fingertips along her back.

“I have no problem reminding you,” Soap answered, laughing a bit as he saw goosebumps pop up along her skin as he dragged his nails along her ribs. “You know, you managed to get me back into bed,” he said after a moment, his eyes darting to the window where a downpour had started. “And I don’t think we’ll be walking to the grocer anytime soon,” he turned his attention back to Emma again. “So what are we going to do with our time?”

“I suggested reading or drawing,” Emma answered but subtly wiggled her backside against his length. “Then you started groping me,” she taunted, laughing a bit as Soap caught her movement and not so subtly pushed himself back against her with a small huff. “I think I know what you want, apparently last night wasn’t enough.”

It never was enough between them it seemed, though Emma was not complaining. During the start of both of their recoveries, the intimacy had been nothing more than soft cuddling in bed or heavy kissing sessions, with careful consideration to not push one another too far. There had been plenty of times they stopped and one of them excused themselves for a cold shower or a step outside for a breather. Soap had been the first to crack after two and a half weeks home, dragging her into his lap on the couch and all but tearing her sleep shorts off her so he could get inside of her. He paid for the strain later, only relenting to take a pain pill when Emma threatened she’d cut him off for another month if she had to.

“I have a suspicion if I just,” he slipped his hand between her thighs, “run my fingers over you I’d find I am not the only one that didn’t get enough last night.” He gave her one second to react before he did just that, sliding his fingers through her center which elicited an indecent moan from her. “Mm, see?” He asked, sliding his finger to brush over her clit to which she arched her backside up and into him to give him better access. “I don’t want to hear a single word from you about me not getting enough,” he admonished, “you are bloody soaked leannan.”

“Your fault,” Emma groaned out as she squirmed against his fingers to get more friction, biting her lip as she wantonly pushed back. All worries about what her back looked like were gone from her mind at the moment, her attention laser focused on his ministrations. This had been the first time she had allowed him behind her like this and she found she missed it. Missed the control he was able to exert over her in this position as well as how deep she knew he could get when they were like this. “Where are you…” Emma started as Soap pulled away from her completely. She twisted to look behind her to see him throwing the towel off the side of the bed before his hands grabbed her hips hard and yanked her back and up toward him so she had to prop herself up on her elbows.

“Not going anywhere,” Soap answered her as his hands slid around her thighs to hold her still before he bent down and ran his tongue over her center. He kept his hands gripped tight on her legs to keep her properly spread and pushed up against his face as he worked, knowing she would try to roll her hips to assist. He heard her gasp into the pillow as he lapped his tongue in and over her in long sweeping strokes that went from her center to her asshole, his teeth scraping along her every now and then to get her to cry out.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he leaned back to admire his work before slipping a finger into her easily, not giving her any time to adjust as he started pumping. She was whining in her throat before he added a second finger to give her the stretch she was looking for. “So eager for me,” he admired as he curled his fingers a bit and started moving them faster, his gaze flicking up to look at Emma’s face as she started to breathe faster, curling her fists into the sheets as she twisted her head to watch. “You’re gorgeous,” he growled out feeling her getting close, her body clamping down on him. “Don’t you ever think otherwise. You are incredible and fucking beautiful and most importantly,” he shifted his thumb to rub small circles over her clit to get her over that edge, “you’re all mine.”

There it was. His praising words had thrust her right to that edge but those last three words sent her over. Emma cried out loudly and felt her legs lock up and body tense as the orgasm ripped through her, but Soap kept his fingers moving. He was going to send her right into a second one if he could and she shuddered, rocking her hips with abandon to ride out the high. “I’m yours Johnny,” she agreed a bit breathlessly once she got her voice back, smirking as she felt him gently rubbing at her asshole now that his fingers were sufficiently wet.

“What do you want gorgeous?” Soap asked as he continued to rub her ass gently. He pushed in lightly when she didn’t answer him, cursing under his breath at the sensation and visual. He felt her tense for a moment around his finger and he hesitated before she relaxed and he pushed further. “Tell me what you want,” he stated more commanding as he pulled his finger back a bit and pushed in, the rhythm slow and methodical. He noticed she was moving her hips a bit with him and he huffed pushing in a little more with each thrust but then stopped altogether. He wanted her to say it and not just go with what he was giving her.

“I want you,” Emma breathed but knew he wasn’t going to take that for an answer. “I want you to fuck me,” she continued and pushed back against him. “Like this,” she added before pushing up on her hands and pulling her hair over one shoulder. “I’m yours so make me yours,” she tacked on looking over her shoulder at him. She could see her scars out of her peripheral vision but she didn’t care now. Right now she cared about Johnny and how he was looking at her like she was the damn air he breathed to keep him alive.

There she was. The confident Emma that didn’t hide and told him what she needed from him and it was sexy as hell. He adjusted up onto his knees and guided himself toward her entrance before he pushed in, hissing out a breath at how easily he slipped in. He paused to steady himself before rocking his hips into her, pushing further in with each roll until he was fully seated. But it was not enough for her apparently, she was pushing back against him and arching her back with a small plead. “How do you want it?” He inquired as his fingers dug into her ass cheeks, keeping her still on him so she couldn’t wriggle. “Soft?” He pulled back antagonizing slow, “or hard,” he snapped his hips and she all but shrieked as she clamped around him.

“Hard,” Emma whimpered. They had done soft and slow the night before, most of their times together had been soft lately thanks to her insecurities. “Hard and fast,” she stated before dropping her head down as Soap began to slam into her. He had one hand on her hip to keep her in rhythm, the other finding her asshole again. She moaned as he pushed his thumb into her and he matched the thrusts of his thumb with his hips. “Fuck,” Emma moaned as she arched into him, sliding her body down so her head was rammed into the pillow and her hands were pushing back against the headboard to keep from slamming her head into it. “Keep going,” she begged.

“Jesus Emma,” Soap breathed as he looked down at her, her face was already getting red and there was sweat breaking out on her brow. “You take me so good,” he praised knowing she was preening under the attention, “you were made for me. You’re mine and I’m never letting you go,” he continued before sliding the hand that was on her hip up to her shoulder and neck to help keep her pushing against him and also to help her not injure herself. “Fuck you’re tight, you going to come for me again?” He asked his fingers tightening around her neck ever so slightly.

“I’m close,” Emma answered as she reached one of her hands back to grab at his leg and dig her nails in, knowing he liked the sting. “Right there,” she said after a moment as she felt him slide his thumb even further in her ass as he slammed home again, “Johnny right there, please.” Her voice had taken on a bit of a begging tone which only amped Soap up as the bed squeaked loudly underneath them. “Finish with me,” she breathed out as his fingers flexed on her throat again, pulling her head up off the pillow as he angled her body just right. She was there, the tightening in her body was about to be unleashed, and when she heard Soap let out a curse and his hips stuttered a bit she climaxed. It was a ragged sort of moan that escaped her lips, followed by whimpering pants as Soap finished with her. He was pounding into her hard enough that it was stealing her breath and she was gasping against the grip of his fingers before he slowed to a stop.

If he wasn’t exhausted from his run before he was certainly spent now. Soap was breathing heavily as he admired Emma while still buried in her, the way her skin was flushed, and how her arms shook to hold herself. He smiled a bit as he slid himself out, his hand gently letting go of her neck to slide down her slick back before moving out from between her legs. “I love you,” Soap said after he managed to even his breathing and collapsed onto the bed next to her.

Emma was rolled on her side looking at him with a smile, her hair a ragged mess around her sweaty face which only made Soap’s chest swell with emotion at the sight. Reaching out he tugged her against him and pulled her in for a heart-stopping kiss, his hand winding into her hair at the back of her head. He didn’t care that they were both panting and trying to bring themselves back down to earth. “Fuck I love you, Emma,” he said again with a small laugh as he crushed her tight against his chest and used his other hand to hold her face to his to kiss her multiple times.

“I love you too,” Emma answered, laughing a bit herself as she half laid on top of him in the bed. She smoothed his hair back off his forehead a she looked into his eyes, her thumb tracing over his eyebrow feeling the small indent of an old scar that ran through it. “I never want to leave this room,” she said after a moment, “or this moment. Let’s just…let’s never leave.” Being in this room with him meant the outside world wasn’t there. Her issues weren’t there, the insecurities and fears were on the other side of the door where they couldn’t hurt her. In here she was in a safe bubble with the man she loved and that’s all she truly wanted.

“We may need to leave eventually,” Soap answered her with a grin, “but I’m on board with staying in this bed as much as humanly possible. Only if it’s with you though,” he answered cupping her cheek as she nuzzled into it. “What I said before,” he continued, “that you’re mine,” he hesitated. “And you agreed,” his eyes searched hers, flicking his gaze back and forth over her face. “I meant it, and not in just a fun sexy way,” he laughed as Emma laughed. “You’re mine Emma and I want you to stay mine. Forever.”

Emma hesitated at his words, her hand sliding over his chest to feel that his heart was still pounding though she wasn’t sure if it was from the exertion moments ago or what he was saying now. He had a look of apprehension on his face and Emma thought she saw a nervous gleam in his eyes as he watched her. That was very unlike him, Soap never betrayed a sense of nerves when it came to anything, always confident and cocky no matter what he was doing. “I already said I was yours and I don’t have any intentions of leaving you. So, what are you saying exactly?” She asked, curling her fingers a bit so she was gripping at his sternum. She needed him to say it because the mood had certainly shifted from the high of sex to some charged apprehension.

“I’m saying that I want you to marry me,” he swallowed, his eyes trained on her face for any sort of hint of her reaction. “I promise that my proposal will be much better than this,” he grinned a bit, sure that his face was probably looking grave because of the nerves. He knew it was quick, they hadn’t even known one another for a full year yet and he was already talking marriage. But nothing in their relationship had been slow anyway and he couldn’t picture his life any other way. Everything they had been through together already had shown him she was the one for him and the thought of not having her around sent an icy punch right through his heart.

“I just wanted to know if you also felt it before I went and bought the ring.” That was a lie, he had bought the ring over a month ago and had hidden it just waiting for the right time. Because despite how nervous he felt he knew she felt the same way, there was no denying it with how well they fit together.

Emma blinked a few times before nodding, doing her best to not cry. “I’d take this as a proposal right now,” Emma answered him truthfully as she leaned down to kiss him. To be honest she hadn’t thought too hard about marriage, not yet. It had of course crossed her mind a few times, wondering if she had finally found her person and they would be together forever. But ever the man that was two steps ahead, Soap had already been seriously thinking about it. The first to cross that boundary of friends to lovers, the first to say I love you and the first ready to contemplate marriage. “But I have a feeling you are going to want to do it ‘properly’,” she added grinning a bit as he nodded.

When he had died in her arms Emma had felt part of herself die in that moment and that’s when she knew he was hers. She couldn’t be without him, because being without him meant she was missing part of her. Emma lost the fight with the tears and felt them spill over but she didn’t move to wipe them away. “I love you John MacTavish and I am not going anywhere. I’m yours,” she promised.

“And I’m yours,” Soap replied, pulling her back for yet another soft kiss. “Tha gaol agam ort, Emma.”

[aylacavebear]

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 3

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 1474

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 3

You and Sarah went back to the hardline to finish unboxing what had come in on the truck that day. She was still laughing a bit from the little sofa incident, taking out her phone and getting it posted to her social media account.

“So, he was hot,” Sarah mused as she put her phone back in her pocket, pulling some items out of the box in front of her.

You shrug your shoulders, working your own box, “He’s FBI, probably married anyway.”

“Doesn’t mean you couldn’t have flirted a little bit with him,” she teased you.

You now rolled your eyes, “Men are nothing but trouble. How many are flirting with you these days?” you asked, teasing her a bit.

“A few,” she chuckled.

The two of you chatted while you worked, laughing and joking around, as well as planning your next antic to film. Luckily, management was fairly lenient when it came to goofing off at work. Most times in the stockroom there were jokes, laughter, and better than any comedy show you’d ever watched. It all managed to mostly take your mind off of the sulfur question the agent had asked you about but it never fully left your mind.

Your break came up around two-thirty, a typical time when you worked till five. You liked sitting outside in the sun, even on chilly days like today. Most times you’d scroll through Tumbler, reading some fanfic about one of your favorite characters. These days it was Damon from The Vampire Diaries. To you, it was just fantasy. You knew vampires weren’t really like that, and you had no desire for a domineering man in your life either.

Five minutes before you had to go back in, you looked up as the scent of sulfur moved across the air from behind you. Almost a dozen people were walking around the parking lot and the sidewalk in front of the businesses there but none of them stood out. You took a deep breath, the sulfur smell gone as you felt your heart rate increase a little, knowing you’d have to be even more vigilant than before.

As you took care of the hummers for the last half of your shift you paid more attention to the customers in the store, but more for the scent of sulfur. If you had been running the racks of clothes, you probably would have smelled it but since everything on the hummers went in the back half of the store, you never noticed. 

Several customers asked you to unlock the bathrooms for them, which you did with a friendly smile, enjoying being able to help them with something. You missed cashiering, which was your last job at the Wal-Mart across the street. Ross hadn’t started cross-training you yet, so for now, you just enjoyed helping the customers who came up to you on the floor. You smiled while you worked, dancing around a little to the music playing in the store. Sometimes something you liked came on even if most of it was more new-aged.

“So, if we get pillows in the shipment tomorrow, pillow fight on hardline,” Sarah told her as you put another hummer in the backroom near the end of your shift.

“Oh my god, that is gonna be so much fun,” you laughed, thinking about it.

“We’ll see who else we can get in on it and get to film it,” she chuckled.

The two of you were always coming up with new ways to have fun at work, “How’d the last video do?” you ask her, mildly curious.

“They loved it and want your profile so they can check your stuff out too,” Sarah told her.

You laugh a little as you look away from her, “You know I’m not into all that stuff. I’ll just be a silent contributor.”

She rolled her eyes, “One of these days you’ll cave,” she teased you before asking you for a code 99, as she did every day the two of you worked together.

You check her bag, say your goodbyes, then clock out and head outside. The smell of sulfur is present but you can’t identify its source. You stop at the edge of the sidewalk, looking both ways and around the parking lot. There is a really nice Impala sitting in the parking lot but you can’t make out who’s inside it, not from this distance. That was not what you should have been focusing on but it was the only odd thing that stood out. What you didn’t notice was the couple that was watching you from near the Petsmart, right next to your work.

Once the way was clear, you crossed the small road and headed toward your truck, feeling your heart rate increasing as you walked. You at least were aware that the sulfur odor was coming from somewhere behind you but that didn’t mean you didn’t suspect whoever was in that Impala either. You’d warded at least the inside of your truck from demons, making it so they couldn’t enter. The breeze blew again, sending that sulfur smell back over you as you closed the driver’s door of your truck. 

For a moment, you just sat there, hands on the steering wheel, attempting to calm your racing heart, as well as looking around for anyone suspicious. You saw them, the couple standing near the Petsmart, watching you. One more deep breath, and you started your truck, heading toward home. It was a half-hour drive from where you worked, out in the quieter part of Avra Valley.

You checked your rearview mirror repeatedly as you drove home down those long stretches of road. There was the usual five o’clock traffic but out this way, it was minimal compared to in town. A couple of times you thought you were being followed. You even slowed down, going five under the speed limit. The cars passed you, and you sped back up, now back to five over the speed limit. There was also a brief moment when you could have sworn you saw that black Impala in the small line of vehicles behind you but it wasn’t there when you rechecked. 

It was five-thirty-five when you pulled into your driveway. You lived on an acre of land in a mobile home attached to a scamper with a twenty by seventeen-foot enclosed porch that connected the two. As you put the truck in park and shut off the engine, you sat there, taking several, slow deep breaths. You’d already found a decent protection spell with sigils that you’d marked each corner of the property with, as well as warded your house as a just in case.

The sun was low but not quite down, not for another half hour at least, and the wind had picked up again. You sighed as you climbed out of your truck and headed inside. Luckily you’d remembered to leave your heater going so the scamper was warm, that was where you slept and spent most of your time. 

Your regular night routine consisted of changing into comfortable pajamas, setting up your coffee pot for the following day, checking Snapchat due to Sara and her tagging you in the antics you did at work, and then spending the evening enjoying your favorite show at the moment. Dinner was leftover baked chicken while watching The Vampire Diaries.

After dark, the neighborhood dogs started up like they usually did. There were plenty of strays in the area but within the last week, the neighbor's dogs had gotten more annoying. It was almost as if people were taking a walk or someone may have been lingering too long. No matter how many times you checked outside, through your window, you never saw anything, not even a stray dog. With the subdivision across the street, lots more people had dogs in the area. There were also the annoying drivers who either blared their music or had the bass turned up so high that you could hear them coming a mile away. It was the usual light traffic for the night since it was a weeknight. On Friday and Saturday nights, all the kids and teenagers were out on dirt bikes and quads.

When eight rolled around, you reluctantly turned off your show before heading to bed. You knew you’d be up for at least another hour reading some fanfic on Tumbler, or several. It was probably the most relaxing part of your day. Snuggled in your bed, leaning against your pillows, letting your mind drift to some fantasy through a fanfic, even with the dogs going off from time to time outside. There were plenty of things you weren’t aware of that night as you plugged in your phone, turned on some relaxing music to sleep to, and turned off your light. 

----------------------------------------- Chapter 4

Link to the series Master List

[beyondtheglowingstars]

(the one that request Luigi x DK) Of course! Write how you feel comfortable and satisfied, I will enjoy your writing in any way!

djsabjabk ur all so kind to me... my heart-

Sorry if this took a little long to come out, but now it's finally here! I hope you like it (also ty for requesting such a cute ship, I gotta make more content for it in the future) and thanks for your patience.

Will make some additions in the future to make the formatting look prettier, etc, etc.

╒══════════════════════════════════════════╕

Understood

Pairing: Luigi x Donkey Kong Word count: 1.6k WARNING(S): Not much except Luigi has a bit of a crush on DK and Mario makes one of those jokes in typical older sibling fashion (not really explicit though). General info: He thought Donkey Kong hadn't been given a proper chance to integrate with the group, it bothered him. He knew what it was like to be in that situation, and set out to rectify the problem; it wouldn't be solved immediately, but he'd take the first step now.

Luigi didn’t think it was fair; the way they treated him, he didn’t like it. But don’t misinterpret his true message, everyone that Mario invited to the more casual get-togethers or more serious competitions always got treated like money. Everyone got the same 5 star privileges, the same quality food and accommodations. That was not what he was worried about, it had to do with how well he (or rather how well he had not) integrated with the group.

It’s not that they were mean to DK, but it was clear most of them weren’t able to connect with him, Luigi included. The younger plumber would chalk it up to the language barrier between them, like he’s done before, but now it didn’t seem like a reasonable excuse.

Donkey Kong can read and understand what he’s being told, just not speak English himself, and yet the air wasn’t as awkward when it came to Yoshi or someone else that didn’t speak the common language either. And the more he thought about it, the less excuses he could find as to why DK didn’t have an actual friend within the group. It broke his heart every time he saw the kong by himself, because he knew what it was like to feel rejected and distant to everyone else.

He’d always been a curious one, even if his cautiousness prevented him from getting any answers, in contrast to Mario. If one were to look at things as they were, it wouldn’t be difficult to notice Luigi was fascinated by the gorilla in several ways; intrigued by his carefree yet somehow charming personality, how he bothered taking good care of his appearance despite his lack of clothing, how he always has a smile so bright that put him at peace, and so much more. The green-clad plumber often felt his face warm up when he thought about it, but he tried to not pay it much mind.

The more he thought about it, the more his excitement increased. He’s always enjoyed the kong’s company whenever they got to spend time together, and something in the back of his mind told him there was a lot to uncover from the ape that nobody had been able to get to yet. He may not be the best at initiating conversation, but he’d be damned if he didn’t give it a chance to get to know DK better.

After a little more than a month of planning, Mario’s famous parties were set to begin today and end a dew days later. Luckily, Donkey Kong was able to assist; it was the perfect opportunity to act, the day was scheduled to consist of group activities in its entirety. Though, it’s always way easier to think and daydream about doing something while fully knowing that it’s not as easy as it is in your head. That’s why Luigi took some sweet minutes to work up his courage before making his move.

DK was currently helping himself to some snacks, his back to Luigi. The plumber silently walked towards him, feeling a pit in his stomach with every shaky step forward. He extended an uncertain hand to DK’s shoulder, lightly tapping it with the tip of his fingers. The gorilla made a hum of confusion at that, swallowing his food and then turning his head to meet the one that called for his attention. His puzzled expression dissipated and softened when he noticed the green plumber.

Luigi’s body stiffened, he opened his mouth to speak but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate and words remained unsaid. He cleared his throat, taking that moment to compose himself before retrying.

“H-Hello Donkey Kong, would you like to be my partner today?” His tone came out more nervous than he originally thought, fiddling with his fingers behind his back.

Donkey Kong’s face lightened and he nodded with a sound of approval, voicing an excited ‘okay!’. Luigi let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, arms back to rest on his sides and his racing heart no longer beating as fast. DK slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer, a little rough.

He realized that might be another reason the kong struggled to connect with the others, he was very direct with physical contact, which he also engaged in VERY often. The plumber didn’t really mind being hugged or becoming a teddy bear for someone else, but he never failed to gasp in surprise at DK’s sudden gestures. The weight of the furred arm anchored him in place, making him effectively unable to leave unless he begged to be let go. He laughed nervously and his cheeks sprouted red over them.

The unlikely duo gathered several questioning glances from whoever was in the vicinity; Luigi attempted to pay them no mind, DK seemed to not have noticed them at all and the mustached man was almost jealous of him. Fortunately, the curious eyes on them left at some point, only returning every once in a while, but it was easier to ignore them at that point as the younger twin’s attention was fully set on DK.

It wasn’t too much of a difficult task to talk with Donkey Kong as Luigi first imagined. Granted, when it was the gorilla’s turn to reply it became kind of a guessing game when trying to make sense of his hand gestures and short vocalizations, depending on how much he wanted to say. But the green plumber was able to work with that, still making a mental note to find a more effective method of communication for next time. Due to the difficulties, their conversation didn’t get too far before the events were ready to start; the brunette wasn’t able to ask or find out as much as he was planning to, but he took what he could get and in the end, he did learn more about DK.

The group activities came and induced questions from Luigi’s regular partners about his unusual choice for the day, and he did a poor job at answering them with a believable lie, but they seemed to let it slide. He ended up shutting many mouths that day as he and Donkey Kong emerged victorious in almost all the games, doing exceptionally well in the sports events.

Luigi wasn’t really one for serious competition, he didn’t care about taking first place, but he must say that it felt good to remain on top once he got there. But what would forever stay in his mind was how much of a good time he had with DK, turns out there was some untapped chemistry that was awakened that day, and Luigi attributed their success to his little social efforts earlier in the day.

Night time rolled around, and it was about time everyone got ready to sleep. Those guests that traveled from far away would be the ones staying at Peach’s castle for obvious reasons, while those with homes not too far away were beginning to head out. Mario waited for his brother at the castle entrance, Luigi was about wrapping up with his goodbyes before leaving. The younger plumber pat Donkey Kong’s arm and smiled at him, the kong had not left his side the entire time so, it was no wonder he didn’t have to look for the gorilla.

“Good night Donkey Kong. I will see you tomorrow.” His exhaustion burst through with a yawn at the end.

He took a step forward, towards the exit, when he felt his arm being gripped and gently pulled. Luigi looked at the large hand that had a hold on him, then at DK with a soft smile.

“It’s ok, I will come-a back tomorrow.”

Donkey Kong showed no signs of letting go, a pout on his face. Luigi scratched the back of his neck with a titter, talking to himself in Italian about his options regarding the situation at hand. A long sigh left his lips, he gave in.

“Ok, I will stay. Let me say goodbye to Mario.”

The younger twin approached his older sibling, a near-permanent grin on his face.

“I won’t go with you tonight, DK wants me to stay.” He nervously kicked his feet, gaze refusing to meet Mario’s face.

The shorter brother faintly jumped in surprise, quickly correcting himself to hide the tiniest sparkle of mischief in his eyes. He rubbed Luigi’s shoulder with his thumb, pretending to act the way he always did.

“Ok bro, I’ll-a see you tomorrow. Remember to use protection.” Mario’s evil grin came out untamed.

Luigi froze on the spot as he replayed over and over his brother’s words, his face exploded with a red more vibrant than Mario’s clothes. He took quick glances to his sides, in hopes of reassuring himself that no one else had heard the joke. He spotted Daisy looking their way while clamping a hand to her mouth to mute her chuckles, and to make matters worse, Mario began laughing like he just saw the most hilarious thing in the world. Luigi covered his warm face with his cap, audibly whining, the older twin playfully ruffled his hair.

“Bye-bye!” Mario waved to his brother as he exited the castle, but not like Luigi could see with his still covered eyes.

The younger twin could only hope that Donkey Kong didn’t hear or understand anything about the exchange he just had, but he’d quickly find himself getting distracted by the more interesting interactions with the gorilla. Oh, if only Mario knew that the day had concluded with an exhausted Luigi falling asleep and using DK’s chest as a pillow; the younger twin would have never heard the end of his brother’s relentless teasing.

He may not have entirely solved what he set out to fix at first, but this would become a valuable first step in his plan, eventually. But that’d be future Luigi’s problem to deal with though, right now it was more important to enjoy what he thought was the most comfortable person to lay on.

[mystery-star]

Whumpril 2023 - Day 4 | Needle

Pairing: Ben Wade x reader (gender neutral)

Words: 819

Warnings: injuries

A/N: Missed a day? Find all Whumpril entries on my Whumpril Masterlist.

-

The wound looked really bad. You swallowed when Ben had removed his clothing to show it to you.

“That bad?” he asked with a raised eyebrow

“I can’t say yet. There’s so much blood” you took his arm and helped him sit down “Sit”

“Already am sitting, am I not?”

“I meant stay” he chuckled and you walked away to get the medical set. By now you shouldn’t be that bothered about the gang’s wounds anymore, it was a regular occurrence and being the camp’s you treated all of it. But it was different with Ben. The two of you were courting and he was more than a friend. You didn’t necessarily like the rest of the gang so of course it didn’t bother you. And now, for the first time since you were with them, you had to treat Ben. With a sigh you got the set and returned to Ben who was wiping away the blood with his shirt. Gently, you pushed his hands away to see for yourself. “That was a bigger gun, right?” you asked

“Yeah”

“Well it looks like there’s two wounds. I have to see if the bullet’s still inside and I think we need to stitch them up” he let out a grunt but nodded.

“Do it” grabbing your tools you told him to lay down but he refused

“You told me to stay seated”

“Well now you should lie down”

“I’m fine sitting” he replied through gritted teeth. Oh well, you could work like that but you understood why he didn’t want to lie down. He was the gangs’ boss after all. He didn’t want to appear weak by lying down.

“Well, you’re the boss” you replied, making him chuckle. As you got to work on getting the bullet out you felt his muscles tense and he closed his eyes, his hands gripping his bloodstained shirt. “That’s the worst part, I know” you assured him, amazed that he didn’t utter too many sounds of pain.

“Thank you” he suddenly pressed out

“Of course, you’re welcome”

“I meant thanks for being considerate” he added more quietly before he let out a little groan of pain. You placed a hand on his other shoulder to calm him down “I remember a time when you weren’t around and we’d either do that ourselves or others did and well…”

“I can imagine” you gave him a reassuring smile and continued your work, feeling glad when you got the first bullet out. But the second one was worse for both of you, not just because it took longer but also because it seemed to hurt more. You heard him sigh in relief and relax once you told him that it was done. As you took out the needle he glanced at you. “It’s over soon”

“I know”

“How did it go anyways?”

“Robbery?”

“Of course” again you wiped off the blood before you got to work

“Oh well…” he started telling you about it and what had happened, how he got shot and they got away without trouble

“Well that’s nice to hear. That you got away easily that is” you smiled but it fell when you saw how he clenched his fists again in pain.

“I can’t say what’s worse”

“What? What’s worse?”

“Well, I don’t know, as I said” you rolled your eyes

“What are you comparing?”

“Getting out the bullet to this. Just the thought you use that needle to actually make more holes in my skin over and over feels weird, ya know? And instead of getting stuff out you put the thread in” you shrugged. He did have a point but how he got these thoughts so randomly you didn’t know.

“But it helps with healing later on”

“Oh, I know. I know you know what you’re doing” he looked at you and you got the hidden message. That for him it was a great sign of trust to let you treat him. Of course, living as he did he couldn’t really trust anyone and even his gang could use the chance to get rid of him right now instead of helping. Somehow it made you sad because you couldn’t believe how hard it must be if you had no one you could fully trust. Or be yourself with. He had even admitted that sometimes he wished back times where he was just another gang member where people wouldn’t be jealous of him and he hadn’t to fear they might just murder him in his sleep because he had nothing to offer. You smiled

“Well, I have to make sure to get you back to your feet or else I might need to start earning my keep if you’re gone” his hand squeezed yours.

“I think you already do just by doing all this” he looked at you with a smirk “And I have rather you treat me than anyone else”

-

Taglist: @woman-with-no-name

Return to the Whumpril Masterlist

[mithliya]

“but ive yet to see any lesbian describe sex with men as purely neutral or sth they merely lack interest in.”

I remember there literally being a massive discussion about this on your blog a number of months back where some lesbians told you they were merely neutral or disinterested in sex with men and you completely shut them down and said they weren’t real lesbians if they weren’t repulsed by men and no lesbian is neutral about sex with men. Like are you seriously forgetting this? You took such a hardline position.

I personally know lots of lesbians who were with men and extremely unhappy but didn’t know why. They knew they didn’t like the sex and felt no romantic connection but just kind of put up with it. It did absolutely nothing for them but they thought that was common for women. They weren’t traumatised and repulsed by it. Personally I’ve had an experience like this where I took a long time to figure out my sexuality and had sex with a man cause I felt I was behind my peers. I didn’t like it at all, I wasn’t attracted to him and it was uncomfortable and it did nothing for me. But I could fully see how a woman could put up with that on occasion and think it was normal, given how much straight women bitch about bad sex, and how much women historically have had to put up with (with regards to sex they didn’t want).

I feel like you just cannot conceive of the fact that people do actually have different life experiences and opinions than you and somebody can feel differently and still be a real lesbian. Your experience is by absolutely no means universal.

almost every lesbian who approached me saying this then ended up admitting that their experiences are indicative of a trauma response, dissociation, which is not like neutrality and indifference whatsoever. in the end, the only person to insist she was truly indifferent is a woman who calls herself bi and argued it’s bc people harass her when she calls herself a lesbian. i could hardly take what she was saying seriously when she’s arguing about lesbian experiences without even having the guts to call herself a lesbian online out of fear of strangers online.

does extreme unhappiness sound like indifference ie neutrality to you? does discomfort sound neutral to you? you’re describing what is very much NOT indifference and then arguing lesbians can be indifferent to sex with men. it’s not a black and white either indifference or full on throwing up during it. i was repulsed, how did that present itself? i felt disgusted by the situation, it felt wrong, i wanted it to stop, i dissociated most of the time, i felt suicidal bc of it, and often felt downright nauseous. the nausea wasn’t always present, but i was still repulsed. what is repulsion? none of that is indifference. experiencing sth and being uncomfortable during it, being unhappy that it’s happening, wanting it to stop… none of those things are indifference. by definition, extreme unhappiness with something is a form of repulsion. discomfort too. what is indifference? please look up these words before debating on them. to be indifferent is to be neutral. it means you don’t feel one way or another about it, you don’t care, it doesn’t affect you in either way. you could have sex with a man, won’t feel unhappy or disgusted or uncomfortable or anything. you could do it for the rest of your life and it wouldn’t be positive but it wouldn’t be negative in any sense either. i am indifferent to raisins. i could eat them. i don’t enjoy it but i can eat it forever and be fine because i don’t feel either way about it. that’s not how someone feels when doing something against their nature. it’s not what you’re describing either.

i encourage you to look for what i actually did say because you’ll find that every anon ended up stating that what they experienced does indeed fall under dissociation rather than actual indifference. the convo ended up being about how we can differentiate between both for a reason.

[loveandmurders]

Hello :))) I love your Sinclair little sister stuff and I was wondering if you could do y/n bringing a guy back home and going up to their bedroom to 😈 but Bo finds out runs up there and stops him being protective, they fight for a little bit and the y/n’s guy goes home but it ends in fluff <333

Hello there, I’m so glad you’re enjoying my work <3 I’m sorry I took so long before answering you but here you are! I hope you’ll enjoy <3

And as usual, if you think you missed any of my work, you can check this out on my masterlist here.

COCKBLOCK 2

Warnings: mention of murders, mention of making out, overprotective and possessive Bo (but he gets better), mention of a fight, argument between reader and Bo, a few strong words, kinda angst/comfort kind of headcanons

Your brothers didn’t know it yet, but you had started to see someone.

Actually, Bo and Vincent were getting suspicious that something was going on because you started to come back home later in the evening and you were always very evasive when they asked you questions.

They really didn’t like it when you weren’t telling them everything, but they couldn’t force you to answer, and Lester was always reminding them you could move out if you were fed up with them.

And it was a threat that was working wonders on them.

They finally got you home; they couldn’t push you away.

And the reason why you weren’t saying anything was because you perfectly remembered how they had acted when you had tried to have some sexual fun with one of the tourists, and you weren’t certain they would be nicer to a non future wax statue actually.

They were overprotective of you, and they wanted the best for you, you knew it.

But it was actually easier to see your lover when you still had a flat, but now you were living with your brothers again, you had to go to his place or at hotels. 

It was fine, of course, but you wished you could bring him home from time to time.

The occasion appeared when Bo had to leave for an errand, and Vincent was busy at the other side of Ambrose, because some statues got destroyed in the last tourist visit.

You were quick to send a message to your lover for him to come. He was more than eager to comply.

You just hoped Lester wouldn’t come by and notice anything.

After you gave your lover all the instructions for him to find Ambrose, you met him outside the house.

It was quite fun to have to sneak him inside your room, but it was also annoying you couldn’t freely live. It was even worse than when your parents were alive and you were a teen.

You were on your bed, kissing and slowly starting to touch each other. His hands were already under your shirt.

But you got interrupted by a phone call. You almost didn’t answer but you saw it was Lester, and you knew better than ignoring your brothers.

“What’s up?” you asked

“‘M sorry” he started, and you could indeed hear the guilt lacing his voice

“What for?” you asked

“Saw a new car close to the house, and thought Bo got it from the last tourists or somethin’ like that, and told him it was in a really good shape for once” he babbled and you groaned

“Great” you mumbled

“Didn’t know ya were bringin’ someone home, or wouldn’t’ve said anythin’” he continued

“Bo’s on his way?” you asked

And you got the answer because you heard the front door being violently opened and then someone running upstairs.

You just had the time to hang up, sit up and put your shirt fully back on. You turned toward your lover with a sad smile.

“If ya don't want to see me again after this, honestly I’d understand. My family is crazy and intense, and I love them as much as I hate them sometimes” you told him and he arched an eyebrow, not too sure to understand what was going on.

Until Bo opened your bedroom door and stared at the two of you with crazed eyes.

“Ya could at least knock on the fuckin’ door” you groaned

You saw several emotions passing through Bo’s face before his attention fully went on your lover.

“Hey ya, what do ya think ya’re doin’ with my baby sister?” he finally said as he walked to him.

You instantly placed yourself between the two of them, trying to prevent them from fighting and being two idiots.

Bo was such a dead man for reacting that way, but you were doing your best to stay calm for the moment. You were disappointed in him even though you knew he would react that way.

You really didn’t know why you came back leaving at Ambrose.

“Look, Y/N invited me to come over. And I believe she lives here now, so I don’t see why I couldn’t be there” your lover said

“Oh but Y/N perfectly knows why” Bo replied and sent you a look promising you were going to have a discussion later on.

“Really, darling, I don’t understand why you came back there if it’s for you to be treated that way” your lover commented and you hated how much you agreed.

No need to say Bo felt instant anger rushing through him at such words: he couldn’t stand the idea of you leaving when he finally got you back.

Before you could do anything about it, Bo pushed you away and he hit your lover who fell on the ground

You jumped on Bo before he could start hitting again and you tugged him away

He was trying to get free from you so you said the only thing that could prevent him from attacking your lover again: “Touch him one more time and you’ll never see me again” you threatened and Bo stilled.

You helped your lover to get back on his feet and you helped him go to his car, apologising to him over and over again, tears in your eyes.

You should have known better than asking him to come here.

But he was more worried about you than anything else, asking you why you came back to Ambrose and being concerned Bo was abusing you.

You tried to explain to him that you loved your brothers, and they loved you back with everything they had and that they would never hurt you. They would rather die than lay a finger on you.

Bo was just too protective for your own good, and maybe you should have presented your lover to him before trying to sneak him inside your room.

But you promised to both of you, you were going to have a discussion with Bo about what happened and you would force him to be better.

Or you would truly leave, and you would never go back to living at Ambrose.

Your brothers needed to be aware it was the only chance you were giving them, and if it wasn’t working, you would find another flat away from them and only came back sometimes, as rarely as possible.

You watched your lover go, quite upset.

Actually, you even regretted not agreeing to leave with him, but you knew it would have made things even worse.

You sighed and went back inside the house; Bo was waiting for you, quite pissed at you.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked you and you crossed your arms on your chest

“Just invited my boyfriend over” you replied “I thought I was allowed to… ya know since I live here” you added

“Oh ‘cause ya have a boyfriend now” he grumbled

“Ya’re my brother, ya ain’t allowed to be possessive over me” you sternly said

“Ain’t knowin’ him. Ya never talked ‘bout him before either, and I found him in your bed, how I’m supposed to react, hmm?” he argued back “And what if he had come in the middle of a hunt?” he asked again

“I didn’t say anythin’ ‘bout him ‘cause I knew you’d be a dick ‘bout it” you replied “and it was quiet, so I thought it’d be fine” you continued

“Oh ‘m bein’ a dick now? ‘M just tryin’ to protect ya here, so don’t be so ungrateful”

“I never asked ya anythin’!”

“Oh yeah, then why did ya come back home?”

“That’s a good question, I really don’t know what I expected when I came back here to be honest” you mumbled as you looked away.

Bo was about to add something, anger rising even more because your words stabbed him in the heart, when Vincent opened the front door and you both fell silent. Vincent could feel the tension between the two of you so he asked you what was going on. You shrugged.

“Nothin’, just clearly made a mistake” you hummed as you were about to go upstairs, defeated.

But both the twins reached for your wrist.

Bo wasn’t stupid; he knew you weren’t talking about having brought your lover home. And Vincent knew your body language well enough to guess what you were thinking as well.

You turned around. “What?”

“Ya really like him?” Bo asked and you were surprised by the sudden change of attitude.

“Yes” you simply said, not sure where it was leading anymore.

“Then invite him to come at dinner” he said and you stared at him in disbelief.

“What did ya say?” you asked, to make sure you understand well before frowning “ya ain’t plannin’ on kilin’ him, right?” you sighted.

“No. But I will if he ever treats ya badly” he replied

You could tell he was really trying for you in that moment, because he didn’t want you to regret to live with him and Vincent.

“So, ya wanna properly meet him?”

“Not really, but I guess I’d feel betta ‘bout him if I see more of him”

“And ya won’t beat him?”

“No…”

“And ya’ll agree for him to sleep here?”

“No, please, no desire to hear my baby sister fuckin’ a guy” he grumbled and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at that.

You stepped closer to hug him and he wrapped his arms around you, before kissing the top of your head

“Fair enough” you hummed “Tonight?” you asked as you looked up at him and Bo nodded. You knew he was agreeing before he could think more about it and refuse.

“But you bake dessert” he told you and you nodded

“Sure thin’” you happily smiled before turning your attention toward Vincent, and you kissed his cheek.

“I don’t want ya to regret livin’ here, but don’t bring strangers home” Bo tried to compromise and you could guess Lester had long conversations with the twins for them to not push you away because of their overprotectiveness, their possessiveness and their controlling behaviour.

Love made them dangerous, but mostly because it made them feel vulnerable.

Especially when it was about you.

“’M sorry ‘bout that” you said and he shrugged

“Probably shouldn’t’ve hit him” he recognised

“Be careful, Bo, I could almost hear an apology” you teased him and it relaxed him, and Vincent as well; if you were teasing him it meant you weren’t mad at him anymore or thinking about leaving.

“Of course, ya can warn him he’ll be questioned to make sure he is suitable for ya” he added and you rolled your eyes at him

“Bo”

“What? I wanna the best for my baby sister, that’s all. And ya can’t stop me”

And you knew that.

Taglist:

@feathery-ass​

@g0thl3zz

[flightlessangelwings]

Safe and Secure

Din Djarin x afab!reader (smut with no pronoun use, no use of y/n)

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only!), unprotected sex, needy desperate sex, pining, protective!Din, nondescript violence, kidnapping

Notes: This could be read kinda as a prequel to Can’t Deny You, but it also stands on its own. As y’all know, I’m such a sucker for protective!Din, so this comes as no surprise here lol! I hope y’all enjoy this, let me know what you think! Feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

If someone had told you that your life would be spent traveling the galaxy with a Mandalorian, you would have told them to lay off the spotchka. Yet, here you were, a loyal companion to the best bounty hunter and fiercest warrior you had ever seen in your life. You weren’t sure if it was fate or just random chance, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. And unbeknownst to you, the Mandalorian felt the same way about you. 

It took some time for the two of you to open up to each other. Many days and nights on the Razor Crest were filled with awkward silence as you felt like you tiptoed around him. But, eventually you learned that he spoke in ways other than words, and once you learned how to read his body language, you found that he actually communicated very clearly. Soon enough, awkward silences became comfortable ones and you found that you smiled more when you were around him. Oftentimes, you wondered if he smiled under the helmet at you too.

The truth was that the Mandalorian couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

And once you helped him rescue the little green child, your bond became even deeper. He looked at you with such fondness as you took great care of the child, and never once questioned his motives. Your loyalty meant a lot to Mando, as did your affection for the little one. In his head, the three of you were like a family, a jumbled and barely held together family, but a family nonetheless. And he swore to himself that he would do anything to keep you both safe, even though you were both fully capable of handling yourselves in your own ways.

But, traveling around the galaxy still cost money, so the Mandalorian left you alone on the ship with the child while he tracked the bounty he was after. As much as you wanted to join him, you knew it was important to keep the child safe, and you promised him you’d protect him. Mando tilted his head, and you swore he had a thought on the tip of his tongue, but he stayed silent and left with just a nod of his head.

There were worse planets to be on, and you opened the cargo door of the Crest for some fresh air. It was a tropical planet that you had never seen before, though you couldn’t remember the name of it. A coo to your right called your attention and you turned to see the child had followed you to the doorway and chittered happily at your side.

“You like this place too, huh kid?” you asked with a smile as you picked him up. You decided you could wait to clean your weapons and just enjoy the peaceful atmosphere of the forest since no one seemed to be around.

Your peace, however, did not last.

An alarm went off on your belt that alerted you of nearby intruders. You immediately knew they were after the child, and you had to act fast before they got to you. In a flash of movement, you scooped him up and rushed over to the ship to tuck him away in a hidden compartment. There wasn’t enough time for you to hide as well, but you made the decision to put the child first. Just as you closed the compartment with a finger to your lips in a silent plea for the child to stay silent, an unfamiliar voice called out to you.

“Well well, what do we have here?” one man snarled at you and looked you up and down with a face that made your skin crawl.

You stood and exited the Crest, ready for a fight, “I’m just passing through,” you tried to sound nonchalant as you closed the cargo door behind you.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s the case, sweetheart,” another spat as the men pulled out their blasters.

You hovered your hand over your own weapon as you surveyed the group. There were five of them, and three of them were bigger than anyone you had never seen before. You swallowed hard, but you held your ground.

“I know you have something of great value,” the biggest of the group said as he closed the space between your bodies, “You and that Mandalorian you travel with,” his gaze pointed at you as he spoke. 

“You must be mistaken,” you tensed as he got closer to you than you liked. You acted first and pulled out your vibroblade and launched yourself at him. In your head, you planned to take out this guy first, since he was the biggest and seemed to be their leader. Then, all you had to do was hold out long enough and hope that Mando would be back in time to back you up. You also cursed yourself for leaving your communicator on the ship.

The leader was only momentarily caught off guard, and though you held your own enough to take out one of the group, the rest soon overpowered you. One of the smaller men knocked your vibroblade out of your hand while the others grabbed your wrists. As much as you struggled and fought back, they were able to pin you down and leave you vulnerable. You grit your teeth as you growled in frustration at having been beaten.

“I’ve also heard that the Mandalorian has a looker of a partner,” the leader leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I’ll bet you must be important to him too.”

Before you could retort, you felt a searing pain at the back of your head and your world went black.

*

The Mandalorian had a bad feeling in his chest even before the Razor Crest came into full view. But his feelings were confirmed when he saw signs of a struggle in front of the ship and a dead body on the ground by the ramp. He let out a low growl of frustration as he bolted toward the ship and noticed a comm at the top of the ramp. His anger only grew when he picked it up and saw a holo image of you unconscious along with coordinates on where to find you.

But the next thought Mando had was of the child, and he quickly burst into the ship, “Kid?!” he called out.

But the silence didn’t last long, and Mando soon heard the soft cries of the child from a hidden compartment. His shoulders dropped as he realized you stashed the child there to keep him safe. Mando quickly pulled him out from the hiding spot and cradled him in his arms, “It’s ok, it’s ok,” he tried to soothe the child though his voice strained from the rage that boiled within him, “You’re alright.” Mando tightened his grip on the child as he whispered a promise to get you back and keep you both safe. You had taken care of the child in his absence, now it was his turn to take care of you. 

*

You slowly opened your eyes with a groan, and the searing pain in the back of your head throbbed immediately when you woke up. You let out a soft hiss as you lifted your hands to your head, and found that your wrists were bound together in front of you. With a huff, you carefully pushed yourself up and looked around the room only to find that there wasn’t much to it. You were laid out on the floor in a tiny, empty, dark room. And with your hands bound, you were completely helpless. 

Suddenly, you heard blaster fire from nearby and you immediately went on high alert. You held your breath as you strained to listen for any hint of what could be happening on the other side of the door. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar voice that you finally exhaled in relief.

With one final shot, there was nothing but silence on the other side of the door, and you held still as you heard the soft sound of footsteps. You flinched when the door suddenly opened and you raised your hands in defense, unable to do anything more. But, you quickly relaxed when you heard your name in that familiar voice again and felt the comfort of gloved hands on you.

“Hey, it’s me,” Mando spoke softly as he scanned you for injuries.

You blinked your eyes open in surprise and your shoulders slumped down when you were met with the beskar helmet that you were so familiar with, “Mando,” you breathed. A soft coo made your eyes drop down and you smiled brightly when you saw the big eyes of the child staring up at you, “Hey kid,” you whispered as you brushed his cheek softly.

“Are you hurt?” Mando asked as he released your bonds.

“I…” you were too lost in a whirlwind of emotions to even register the pain you were in. You felt the tension in Mando’s grip, and even through the helmet, you could tell he was out of breath. How long had it been since you were taken? How much did he panic when he got back to the ship and you weren’t there? Did he take on that whole gang alone? For you?

Another coo interrupted your thoughts, and both you and Mando looked down as the child reached out to you. Without a word, he closed his eyes and focused his energy towards you. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt the rush of energy from his little hand. It was as if you were a brand new person within minutes. Mando watched the interaction in silence, and it wasn’t until the child collapsed back down that you both moved.

“Is he ok?” you asked as you cupped the child’s little face.

Mando placed his hand over yours on the child’s cheek, and both of you swallowed hard and stilled for a moment before he broke the silence, “He’s alright,” Mando turned back to you as he gave your hand a squeeze, “Let’s get back to the ship.”

You nodded as you didn’t trust your voice. Something about the way he held your hand felt different than before, and the rush of feelings came back with a vengeance. Neither of you spoke as you leaned against Mando for support as he led you back to the Crest. Once you were all safely back on board, he locked the ship up and you leaned against the wall as he set the child down to rest with such tender care that it made your heart skip a beat.

“Are you ok?” Mando repeated his earlier question and turned his attention to you once the two of you were alone. He quickly crossed the space and checked you over once more, and the same feeling as before crept up within you as he rested his hand on you.

“I’m fine,” you breathed as your gaze dropped to the floor, “I’m sorry Mando. I was careless and I couldn’t beat those guys and…”

Mando cut you off with your name as he squeezed your wrist, “Don’t.”

Tension hung in the air as you lifted your head and met his visor. Your heart pounded in your chest as you suddenly became very aware of how tightly he held onto you. One hand held your wrist tightly while his other hand landed on your hip. It wasn’t painful, but it was a strong grip, as if he didn’t want to let you go. The room felt warmer as the two of you stared at each other, both at a loss for words. Yet, perhaps words weren’t needed.

Slowly, you reached your free hand up and slipped it underneath his armor. Mando tilted his head down and watched your movements, but made no attempt to stop you. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you were sure his eyes watched your lips as you parted them for a heavy breath. Both of you gasped at the same time when you touched his skin directly for the first time.

As if a switch suddenly flipped within him, Mando spun you around in a flash and with a soft squeal of surprise, you suddenly found yourself up against the wall with his strong body pressed against your back. Mando’s hands roamed all over your body in desperation and he nuzzled himself against you. You let out a moan when you felt him rock his hips against your backside and a new type of desperation took over your head.

Mando squeezed your hips tightly before he ran his hands up your sides and caressed your body. “Is this alright?” he asked in a hushed tone before he grabbed your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed, “Please…”

Your thoughts were cut off when Mando’s large hands palmed your breasts and he rubbed your nipples through the fabric. You clawed at the wall for any sense of grounding as Mando kneaded your soft flesh. You bucked your hips back against him, and both of you groaned when you felt how hard he was already.

Mando let out a needy moan as he ran his hands back down your body and pushed past the hem of your pants. One hand held your body tight against his while the other dipped lower and rubbed at your clit. You cried out when the gloved finger made contact with your heat, and you didn’t even realize how wet and needy you were.

Through half lidded eyes, you reached back behind you and grasped at the air until you found Mando’s body. Without turning around, you fumbled your hand as you tried to find his cock. When you did, both you and him gasped as you gave it a squeeze and rubbed it through his pants.

Mando hissed when you rubbed at his cock faster, and in turn he rubbed at your clit in tandem with your movements. Heat quickly rose in the room as you both worked each other in desperate, sloppy movements.

“Wait,” he suddenly froze and pulled you flush against him.

All the breath left your body as you suddenly felt the cool beskar against your back, “Everything ok, Mando?”

“I won’t last if you keep that up,” he groaned as he rested his helmet against the side of your face.

“Me either,” you whispered as you felt your muscles clench around nothing, “Please Mando… I want you inside me. Please fuck me.”

Mando let out a low growl as he quickly slid his gloves off and unzipped his pants. He moaned your name as he fumbled with your pants next. You leaned against the wall as you let him strip you just enough for what you both needed. The desperation was too much for both of you to move or strip completely, and you both felt that.

You shivered when you felt the cool air against your hot skin, but you weren’t cool for long. You closed your eyes when you felt Mando’s body against yours again, only this time you felt his cock at your entrance. You whimpered as you shifted yourself and parted your legs for him.

Both of you let out loud gasps when Mando finally entered you. Slowly, he pushed his length inside you and filled you inch by inch, and neither of you had ever felt more pleasure in your lives. Your hands were splayed out on the wall as you leaned your forehead against it for stability as you felt so deliciously filled. Mando groaned as he trembled behind you; he had never felt like this with anyone before.

Emotions ran high within both of you as he rocked in and out of you at a steady rhythm. With your eyes closed, Mando leaned forward and used the wall as he pushed his helmet up enough so that his lips were exposed. He reached for your shirt and tugged it down enough so that the skin of your neck and shoulder were exposed and he kissed and nibbled on the skin there.

You cried out at the feeling of his lips on your skin, and you couldn’t handle the overflow of emotions from your connection. Tears fell down your cheeks as he pumped in and out of you while he held you tightly. Moans from both of you filled the room as Mando took you against the wall.

As Mando rocked his hips against yours, tears of his own fell down his face. You shivered when you felt the drops against your skin, but it only made you cry more when you realized he felt the same emotions that you did. You let out a loud moan and Mando thrust into you faster and harder as a newfound desperation took over him. He wrapped one arm around your waist in an attempt to hold you even closer while the other hand covered yours against the wall. You wrapped your fingers around his as best you could; you wanted to hold him as badly as he wanted to hold you.

“Fuck… Mando…” you moaned as he sped up his thrusts.

He filled you completely and paused. Both of you panted hard at the feeling of his cock deep inside you before he broke the silence, “Din.”

“What?”

“My name, it’s Din,” his voice was raw as he spoke into your ear. From under his helmet, Din’s eyes were red from the tears.

“Din…” A tingle ran up your spine when you realized you felt his breath against your skin and heard his voice unmodulated for the first time.

Again, something snapped in Din, and the moment he heard you say his name, he thrust into you harder and faster. He groaned against you as you cried out in pleasure. The arm that he had wrapped around you lowered and Din found your clit again. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, and he was determined to make you cum with him.

He didn’t realize how close you were as well, and after only a few more erratic thrusts, both of you came hard at the same time. Desperate whines from both of you filled the room as Din rode out both your orgasms until you collapsed forward against the wall.

Din quickly held you up and whispered your name as he stilled himself inside of you, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah…” you breathed hard as more tears fell down your face from your climax. “Just… that was a lot, emotionally,” you paused as you held Din’s hand tightly, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” was all he answered through his own sniffles.

The two of you stayed still for several long moments. Whether it was because you were too spent or too scared to lose your connection, neither of you were sure. Perhaps it was a mix of both. Din held you tightly as both of your tears finally stopped and you both were able to breathe normally again. He placed one last kiss to the top of your shoulders before he used the wall to push his helmet back on fully and slowly pulled out of you.

Whines filled the room, and neither of you were sure who they came from: him or you. You and Din both used the wall for support as you redressed, but neither of you strayed out of reach of the other. Once you were more sure of your own strength, you turned around and faced him again. You reached out and grabbed his arms while he reached for your face at the same time. The two of you stayed locked in an intense gaze again, both unsure of what to say next.

But it was another voice that broke both of your trances, and Din turned around just in time to find the child opened his pram. Your breath hitched in your throat as you suddenly hoped he didn’t hear what you and Din just did.

“What are you doing up?” Din asked as he crossed the room and scooped the child up in his arms.

“I hope we didn’t wake him,” you added sheepishly, and you only felt more flustered when Din turned around with the child tucked in his arms.

He held your gaze for a moment before he finally answered, “Let’s hope not,” he replied in a light tone that made your heart skip a beat, “Come on, let’s get some sleep,” he held his hand out for you.

On shaky legs, you walked over and took his hand and let him lead you to his bunk. The three of you were quiet as you all settled in, and it took some awkward shuffling to get yourselves comfortable. You gently nuzzled yourself around the child and held him close against you while Din wrapped his arm around you both. In the moment, everything in the galaxy felt right to him, with the two he cared the most about safely secured in his arms. Unaware of Din’s thoughts, you adjusted your head so that you laid on the space between his pauldron and his chest plate, and exhausted, you quickly fell asleep.

Din, however, stayed awake and watched both you and the child as you both slept peacefully. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he gave both of you a tight squeeze. As your lips parted and soft snores escaped, Din slowly lifted his helmet enough to expose his lips once more and he placed a long kiss to the top of your head before he whispered in the softest voice, “I love you.”

[im-poe-dameron]

ASTERISM

➛ 02. REBELLION'S HOPE

a/n: it's been awhile since chapter one, but seeing the andor episodes made me really inspired. i also just take forever to write anything. i am very excited about this chapter in particular, because i've yanked an old star wars oc out of an old fic and put him in here. the chapter isn't fully edited, but i tried my best. enjoy! (also how fucking good was the start of andor?!)

there are some minor andor spoilers in here!!

summary: dying by way of dire cat isn't how you thought you'd go, but life has a funny way of turning things on its head.

word count: 5.1k+

pairing: cassian andor x fem!reader

warnings: not explicit, cussing, angst, talk of death, the makings of a crush, tension.

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Death by Dire-cat. Not the most phenomenal way to go out, but then again was there any death that could be labeled as just that? You had hoped that you would at least survive a few more years on this planet before something took you out. But alas you were stuck dying here—never able to escape. The relief in this entire predicament was knowing you wouldn’t be dying alone. That had always been your absolute fear.

Facing death without anyone beside you.

Even though you knew it was impossible to not go it alone, there was something hollow in the realization that going by yourself truly meant the end. You supposed it was only fitting for a situation like this. For half your life you had been on your own, left to fend for yourself as you waited for a family that would never return back to you. Only now—you were standing beside a Rebellion pilot and watching as a Dire-cat stalked towards you. The image nearly brought a sickening smile to your face. How poetic that this was going to be your ending.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you whispered to him, unable to tear away from the scene in front of you. “I’ve never wanted to die alone.”

His head turned, regarding you with a look you couldn’t see. If you had the gall, you would have shifted to face him. You would have seen that the words you just uttered unknowingly, held more of a meaning than you expected for the both of you. Cassian Andor, respected Rebellion Captain who held no fear of death, no fear of when the end might come.

Or so he liked to believe.

“How do you know we’ll die?” he asked, sparing a glance at the animal who stopped a few feet away from you.

“It seems fitting. The death of a person who has dreamed of nothing but freedom. Now dies because of it.”

You weren’t sure where any of these innermost thoughts were coming from, and you did nothing to stop them. Beneath the layers of everything you tried to keep protected, you realized that this was how you felt all along. Not so much fear of death or abandonment. No, it was the fear of never having lived at all that set your heart skyrocketing into a sickeningly fast rate. What was life to someone who never had a taste of what the word actually meant?

“We’ll get out of here,” he replied, the blaster still clutched tightly in his palm.

“You know I never believed it existed.” His befuddled expression was enough for you to continue. “People say that the hope of a Rebellion can be seen in a single person. I never actually thought it could be possible. Thanks for proving me wrong.”

He gaped at you, eyes wide with disbelief. Cassian was never one to think about that and yet now he found himself realizing that you were more right than he’d ever been. Hope was stored not only in the symbol of the Rebellion, but in every person who decided to lay their lives down for the cause. To fight for something far greater than them and finally see a galaxy made free. It’s the choice he made long before he was even old enough to understand it.

It would have been a choice you made as well.

The Dire-cat sprinted forward, leaping into the air and taking you with it as you raised the blade to slash into its underbelly. The shout from Cassian told you that he was firing the blaster, but the tough exterior of the animal’s skin made for a very good barrier. You wanted to fight back, to scream in horror, and yet all you could do was lie there beneath it, watching as the animal lowered its head towards you.

A cold nose pressed against your cheek followed by a puff of hot air and you were sure that this was it. The Dire-cat was merely checking to see if you were worthy enough to eat. That is…until a shrill whistle echoed in the air, freezing the cat's movements above you. One last nudge from its nose and suddenly it was shifting to the side, flopping onto the ground beside you and watching you with a content expression on its face.

“Cassian?” you called out. You wondered if you were actually still alive or if you had finally died.

His hand grasping onto your wrist forced you back into your own head. You hadn’t died. The animal didn’t make you their dinner and as Cassian helped you back to your feet you finally settled on one single thing. Who was capable of controlling a Dire-cat of this size? They were known to be ruthless. Animals that hunted without mercy.

“Did you whistle?” you asked, shaking slightly from the encounter of almost being ripped to shreds. He shook his head. “Someone’s here.”   

“Are they with—” he began.

You shrugged. “No clue. Know of any stormtroopers who have the capability of taming a Dire-cat?”

“I don’t think they know these animals exist.”

“Then who—”

Another sharp whistle came from a closer distance, causing the Dire-cat to shift until it was standing behind you. A part of you hoped that whoever tamed this beast was on your side, but still you remained wary of what would come. Gripping the blade even tighter you kept still while Cassian moved the blaster up until it was pointed directly at the treeline. Whoever or whatever revealed themselves would find the situation complicated.

“Don’t shoot!” someone called from within the trees. “I’m not with the Empire!”

Something clicked in your mind, a small sliver of recognition and yet you refused to let yourself fall into what might be a trap. “How do we know?” you responded, feeling your body tense as the Dire-cat let out a breath.

They chuckled, the leaves rustling as they came forward. “Oh come on K’tusah, you really think I’d switch sides this late in the game?”

The sight of his familiar mop of dark blue hair and blue skin had the fear melting from your body within moments. “Nomad?”

“You really believe those kriffing banthas could tame a beauty like her?”

“Nomad.” You could get no other words out, because there stood a friend you thought you lost contact with so many years ago. “You’re—”

“Alive? Here in the flesh? Did you miss me?”

Sprinting towards him, you flung your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug that was long overdue. You recall watching him leave. Saying goodbye the only way he knew how—saluting as he hopped into his worn down ship. I’m off to join the fight. Words you knew all too well, but never believed someone close to you would ever say. Off to fight a war bigger than himself and so you watched him leave.

Willing that the Force—if it exists—would protect him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispered, pushing his face into your shoulder with a smile on his lips.

“When you didn’t reach out I thought—I thought you died Nomad.”

He shrugged, pulling back to wipe the stray tear that fell down your cheek. The warm expression you’d grown so used to seeing gave you a moment of peace within the flurry of chaos that had become your life. Your friend, the person who taught you most of what you know, stood before you—very much alive.

“It’ll take more than an Empire to get rid of me K’tusah. You know that.”

You laughed, letting go of him only to feel a cold, wet nose nuzzle against your neck. “The Dire-cat…”

“K’uscasi. She’s been with me since I came back to Corellia.”

Turning to watch as K’uscasi pushed her nose into Cassian instead, you felt some of the fear—the worry—begin to dissipate. “Right,” you said, heading towards Cassian who seemed intent on remaining as still as possible while she investigated whether or not he was worthy. “This is Cassian Andor. Cassian, this is Vonn Woutuc, pilot for the Rebellion.”

“The Rebellion?” he asked, surging forward. “You’re a pilot?”

Vonn nodded. “Have been for a while. My ship crashed a while back and I’ve been scouring around for another one. If you haven’t noticed, it’s been a bit dangerous to try and contact the Rebellion here.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?” The question fell from your lips before you could stop it—the pain laced in your tone enough to shift his body language.

“Don’t give me that look K’tusah; you know as well as I do that laying low was my only option.”

He was right. If the Empire found that a Rebel pilot was in their midst they would do anything they could to get even a sliver of information out of him. The ongoing war…it only got bloodier by the day. You sure as hell didn’t want Vonn’s blood to be mixed in with all the others. Death was something you not only feared but did your best to stay away from, but even now it seemed that there was only one way to finally end this fight once and for all.

Death would always be inevitable.

“Well, I have to get off this planet,” Cassian said, stepping noticeably away from the Dire-cat. “I could help you find a ship.”

“I hear there’s some traders on the other side of the mountains. They might have something there.”

“Are they allies?”

Vonn shrugged. “At this point I don’t have any preferences for people who have what I need.”

They talked, a plan forming quicker than expected to travel through the mountains, and in all that time…they never once mentioned you. Suddenly you’d become an afterthought. Someone they no longer considered a part of their mission. You weren’t sure what irritated you more. The fact that Cassian believed you to be separated from this fight, or that Vonn would exclude you from something that he knew was just as much your life as it was his.

“And what am I supposed to do?” you cut in, crossing your arms over your chest.

Vonn hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to formulate a response you’d prefer. “You need to go home.”

Well that was certainly not what you expected—not when it came to him.

“What do you mean go home?”

“The only way to keep you safe is if you go home.”

You had half a mind to send your fist flying towards his face. “You’re not being serious right? My home—the same place where I rescued his ass—is now either on fire or being occupied by stormtroopers. So where else am I supposed to go?”

“He’s right—” Your glare cut off Cassian’s words; his jaw snapping shut as he glanced away.

“I’m going with you.” Vonn’s expression told you otherwise, but you were done taking orders from them. “Whether you want me to or not.”

“Maker you’re as stubborn as a fucking falumpaset,” Vonn muttered, running a hand down his face.

You grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment Nomad.” Moving past the two men who seemed to detest the idea of you joining them, you happily pet the Dire-cat before grabbing your things. “If you’re planning on heading to the mountains, it’s going to be a day’s ride. You two can take the speeder. I’ll take her.”

“K’uscasi only responds well to me. So why don’t you let me—” He stopped where he was, eyes wide as he watched you clamber onto her back with ease, being careful to avoid the spines that protruded out of her back.

You smiled. “You were saying?”

He muttered something illegible in Cheunh; words you knew were no doubt either cursing your existence or once again commenting on how irritable you could be. When you first met Vonn you didn’t expect to gain a lifelong friend. That was mainly due to the fact that he hated you right off the bat—claiming that he’d never met someone as stubborn as you to a point where it became irritating. You didn’t bother to take his words to heart. In the end he was the one crying as he left to go join the fight, ultimately leaving you here.

“She is always this stubborn?” Cassian’s low voice filtered through the air as you nudged K’uscasi forward. His words made you smile.

Vonn sighed, clambering onto the back of the speeder behind Cassian. “Stubborn is putting it lightly.”

The familiar sound of your speeder starting up echoed off the trees in the surrounding area. The trek through the mountains had always been something you were afraid of doing. You knew the way after so many years of living on the border of them, but you’d also heard the horror stories of those that resided in the very forest you were heading into. You’d heard what happened to people who never made it back.

It was enough to scare you into remaining where you were.

K’uscasi rumbled beneath you as she ducked low enough to pass beneath the branches, giving you a warning to do the same. Thankfully she was only trotting. You weren’t too sure you wanted to be on the back of a Dire-cat when they took off sprinting. Cassian and Vonn followed close behind, going at a steady pace and sticking to the trail you were making. Vonn may have laid low in these woods, but he didn’t know the ins and outs of the pathways—he hadn’t spent his years pouring over maps of this planet in the hopes of escaping it one day.

“What made you want to join the Rebellion Cassian?” you called over your shoulder, wanting to fill the void of silence. Any conversation was better than no conversation in your book.

“It’s a long story,” he replied.

“It’s bound to happen to all of us eventually,” Vonn spoke up. “The Empire can only bring destruction for so long before a reckoning starts to stop it.”

“Who told you that?” Cassian asked.”

“She did.” You knew who Vonn was pointing to; you remembered saying those words to him all those years ago when it was you who was adamant on joining. In your own mind you wanted to be a pilot or even an engineer, but life had a different path for you in the end.

One that was sadly your own doing.

“You wanted to join the fight?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you grinned at the surprise on Cassian’s face. “Is it so hard to believe?”

“No.”

“Good.” You shifted K’uscasi to the left, recognizing the path on one of the many maps you kept.

Thankfully the sun would remain up for a few more hours, giving the three of you enough time to travel as far as possible. Getting up the mountain wasn’t the hard part. It was what came after that would put all of you to the test. There’s a reason why this trip wasn’t simply one made when they felt like getting to the otherside of Corellia. Nobody traveled this way anymore. That’s what ships were for, but if there’s one thing all of you could count on—it was that the Empire wouldn’t trek this pathway to find you.

And if they did…they wouldn’t survive.

Wincing as you slid off K’uscasi’s back, your bones were jarred once your feet landed on the ground with the thud. You’d been riding for hours, the sun slowly but steadily sinking lower and lower with every passing hour. Until it was too late for the three of you to keep going. Vonn grabbed his bag off the back of the speeder, heading into the thicket of trees around the small clearing. He’d always been a master at setting traps; making sure that there was always a way to take out the enemy before they got to you.

“We should build a fire,” you said, wincing at the pain in your back. The salve from earlier was starting to wear off, leaving an ache to form where your skin had yet to fully heal.

“That will alert others of our location,” Cassian said, watching you warily as you leaned heavily to one side.

“No.” Inhaling deeply, you shoved the pain aside, trying to focus instead on the man in front of you. “We’re so deep into the forest that they’d have to be flying directly over our heads to see the smoke.”

Vonn silently returned from the trees, shutting his bag and setting it beside K’uscasi. “She’s right. The trees should keep us covered through nightfall. But once that sun comes up we need to haul ass through this forest.” He pointed in the distance to where a peak of a mountain top was visible. “It’s called Nomad Mountains for a reason.”

You caught Cassian’s eye, shrugging as Vonn moved to the other side of the clearing to set more traps. “There’s a reason why I call him Nomad.” 

Not giving him time to question you further, you headed towards the base of a tree, gathering what wood you could. Thankfully he didn’t push, even though you somehow knew it was in his nature to do so, and chose to simply help you. He crouched beside where you were, digging through the fallen leaves to find larger sticks and brush to help keep the fire steady. Meanwhile Vonn was placing rocks to form a circle small enough to keep what fire you made untraceable, but large enough to keep the three of you warm.

The small lighter in your pocket once belonged to your grandfather. Never did you think you would need it for a time like this. The fire thankfully lit easier than you anticipated, bringing warmth to your face almost instantly. You were in a crouched position, the burn of your wound now spreading down your back and towards your thighs. Eventually the remaining strength in your body would give in, but for now you were able to stand. Granted you groaned in pain on the way up.

Years of hiding out on the edges of the forest with Vonn had made the two of you so used to this routine. Only now it was to actually keep one another safe. You’d been living with the Empire over your heads for so long, the thought of actually being in the fight against it and that becoming your reality never entered your mind.

You wanted to laugh at the hilarity of it all.

How only days ago you were wondering where your parents were as you sat alone in your house. Yet now you stood here, beside two fighters in the Rebellion and you were somehow able to call yourself one of them. You’d been fighting for years and you just had yet to realize it. 

Cassian landing in your front yard was that realization.

“Do you need help?” he asked, butting into your thoughts and capturing your attention.

It almost startled you how brown his eyes were; how the level of concern in them almost rivaled the anger in them when he first woke up. The emotion that rose in your chest scared you enough to shy away from it—to pretend that it didn’t exist. You were helping him to leave. Emotions like that couldn’t exist, because what could you do with a Rebel pilot?

How could that ever be something more than a rushed relationship? More than just the few minutes you were able to snatch together, hoping for more.

No, you’d been on a planet hoping—wishing on every star you could see—that your parents would one day return to you.

You wouldn’t do the same for someone else.

“The salve wore off,” you replied, trying to make it seem like you’d been mulling over his question rather than the small crush you were starting to harbor for him. A crush that you refused to even acknowledge.

“I threw it in your bag.”

Nodding, you reached for the brown satchel, digging through what personal items you managed to save. A small picture of your parents, a piece of jewelry said to be passed down through the generations and a ring. It was far too big to fit your finger and far too big to have ever fit your mothers. You came to the conclusion that it belonged to your father—the insignia familiar, but something that would have been forgotten about with the Empire at large.

“You don’t have to do this.” Sitting down slowly on the ground, you bit down on your lip until you tasted copper as your back hit the tree behind you.

“Something tells me I do,” he surmised.

You huffed a breath of laughter. “What tells you that?”

Rather than respond, he simply reached for the hem of your shirt, helping you pull it up slowly until the majority of your wound was bared to him. His hands radiated warmth and you were unable to fight against the shudder that went down your spine. As much as you loved the forests on Corellia—they were cold. If one wasn’t careful, they could freeze to the death during the night. Hence the thick jacket you had taken off to drape over your legs.

He pressed his palm along your ribs, his eyes flickering up to meet yours and for a brief glimpse of time you allowed the crush to form. You gave into the feeling and wondered what it would be like to call him yours. It was truly ridiculous to think of something happening this quickly. So, you shoved it back down, slamming the lid on it to seal it away forever.

But that didn’t stop him from gently gliding his fingers along the edge of the wound, checking if it was healing properly. This was merely a kind gesture towards you. He wasn’t trying to feel you up in any way. So why were you so affected?

“It’s starting to heal,” he murmured, gathering a small bit of salve on his fingers and running it over the open wound.

The sighed out moan that practically fell from your lips was involuntary. Simply a reaction to the instant relief that spread through your body, but that didn’t stop you from ducking your head in an attempt to avoid his gaze. You wished Vonn would show up and interrupt this. Make his presence known rather than fiddle with the traps out in the darkness. At least then you wouldn’t be left alone with Cassian.

The firelight played on the side of Cassian’s face, casting shadows over his stubbled jaw and serious expression. You found that you couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like when he wasn’t stressed. When he was by all means…happy.

Maker, you could barely even remember the last time you were happy. With the Empire at large and your whole life meant to be made as small as possible—you were stuck in a pit of darkness. Unable to get out. You could only imagine what someone like Cassian was going through. Someone who chose to fight against what others would call a lost cause.

“Why did you join the Rebellion?” you breathed.

He turned to look at you, pausing his movements and setting the salve on your thigh. “Why didn’t you?”

That made you smile. “You can’t answer my question with another question.”

“Why not?”

“There you go again.”

He laughed; the sound lighting something in your chest so bright it nearly burned you from the inside out. “I made a choice to finally do something meaningful with my life.”

Nodding, you leaned back. He shifted so you could press your injured back against him rather than the rough bark of a tree. The small act didn’t mean much to him, but to you it was enough for those pesky feelings to peek their head up again. Only a few hours ago he tried to put a knife through you and now here you were…crushing on him. Unbelievable.

“Something tells me that’s not the whole reason.”

He glanced down, the firelight catching the brown of his eyes and turning them molten. “What tells you that?” he asked, mimicking you from earlier.

“You lived a life before joining,” you replied, choosing to stare at the fire instead. “The Rebellion isn’t old, but resistance has always been there. In everything. You’ve probably been walking that path a lot longer than you think you have. So much so that…it chose you.”

Reading people used to be a talent of yours. To a point where Vonn began calling you a Jedi, because of how well you could get into people’s minds, figure out who they were all within a short span of meeting them. But in all honesty…you were no Jedi. You were just a person who held onto more than you were ever allowed to say out loud. Cassian didn’t look at you, he didn’t respond, but something told you that you understood him more than even he expected.

You figured out exactly who he was before he did and he wasn’t sure if he liked that.

After some time, he spoke again.

“Why didn’t you follow Vonn?”

You moved, your head falling to his shoulder in an effort to make yourself comfortable. If he didn’t like it, he didn’t say anything about it, so you remained where you were.

“I didn’t know at the time that my parents weren’t coming home.”

“They left?”

You nodded. “A long time ago.” Sighing, you picked at the worn leather of your coat. “I thought they would come back eventually. But after Vonn left and I was truly on my own I realized that…they wouldn’t be returning.”

“So why not join?”

“You talk about it like it was easy for you to join. I wanted to. I still do. But leaving the only home you’ve ever known…it’s not easy. Although maybe it was for you.”

He stilled. “I didn’t have a choice in whether I wanted to leave or not.”

“What do you mean?”

Again he fell silent, but you fell silent with him. After all, the conversation was not so vital that letting it trail off would do any harm to either of you. But you found that you wanted to know more. You wanted him to tell you personally what made his mind tick, what made him choose this life over anything else. You wanted to know him.

“I was…adopted,” he hesitated, as if even he wasn’t sure that was the right answer.

“Rescued?”

“I think so.” He sighed, his arm shifting and hand falling to rest on your thigh. “I don’t know.” 

A piece of wood crackled on the fire, and you caught a glimpse of Vonn coming through the trees catching your eye. He smiled briefly, wiggling his eyebrows at the sight of you and Cassian curled up together, before heading towards K’uscasi who was sound asleep.

“Were they…kind people?”

“Yes,” he replied without thinking twice about it. “I had a good life. At least I like to believe it was good. I wasn’t starving or without a bed.”

“But not an easy one.”

“What?”

“You said good, not easy.” You shrugged. “Having a good life doesn’t equate having an easy one. No one joins the Rebellion if their life choices were easy.”

Once again you startled him into silence, his mind reeling with the realization that perhaps you were more capable in reading people than even you believed yourself to be. “No, not easy. Is that why you didn’t join? Your life was easy, because it doesn’t sound that way to me.”

You stared at the fire, realizing that you now knew what it felt like. What to burn really meant. You weren’t sure if you liked that realization knowing that the scars of what you’d done would remain with you forever. Cassian—even if he were to leave—would have a piece of himself literally carved into your skin. That thought terrified you more than his question did.

“My life was far from easy flyboy,” you muttered, ignoring his scoff at the nickname. “I didn’t join because…I was scared.”

Admitting it now made the reason feel ridiculous, but it was true. All those years spent looking up at the sky wishing for an escape and you never created one for yourself. You had to wait for him to show up to give yourself enough of a reason to go. Joining the fight was grand and great in the scheme of things. Yet actually doing it—committing your entire life to something that very well might end it—scared the shit out of you.

“I know that may sound dumb to you,” you sighed.

“No. It doesn’t.” His hand found yours, gathering your cold palm into his warm one. “I’ve been afraid since I was a child. The fear…it never really goes away. It’s just something you learn to live with.”

“How do you live with it?”

Another piece of wood crackled, sending sparks into the night sky. “You hope that one day things will be better and go from there.”

“Ah yes hope.” You smiled, tracing his palm with your finger. “The one thing keeping this whole thing together. Rebellions are built on hope, you know. Without it…there’s nothing to fight for.”

“There’s your reason.”

You turned slightly to look him in the eyes. “What reason?”

“To join,” he stated. “Hope is greater than fear.”

Laughing, you dropped your head back to his shoulder. “Don’t you have to, I don’t know, be knighted or something in order to join the fight?”

He laughed along with you, the sound echoing beside your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. You knew that once you parted, you would ache to hear that sound again. That thought alone had a knot form in your stomach—one that wouldn’t diminish any time soon. Cassian Andor was meant for far greater than this small adventure to get back to his real life. And you…you would return to your house, say goodbye to both Cassian and Vonn, and live out your days on a planet that would one day destroy you from the inside out.

But for now you would enjoy what little time you had with him—with them both.

“I’m a Captain. Technically I could knight you as you say.”

“And what would that make me?”

“Free,” he said.

The one thing you valued above anything else in your life. The chance to finally be free from the things holding you here. You wanted to see the stars, to finally make your life hold meaning, then this was your chance. The one thing you’d been waiting for.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His eyebrows raised, lips pulling up into a grin. “Okay?”

You nodded. “I’m in.”

[rviden]

hello!! may I request for hcs for when you get into an argument with the genshin boys (you can choose who!!) and the guys end up saying something hurtful, and your reaction is like "well, if that's what you think, then maybe we shouldn't be together." and walks away (tryna hide a tear,,)?? I'm sorry if this is too specific aah I'm just in the mood for angst ( •́ ‿ ,•̀ ) I really like your characterization!! <333

— 🧧 THEIR S/O BREAKS UP WITH THEM AFTER A RUDE COMMENT THEY MADE

includes — kazuha, tohma, diluc

warnings — angst, pre tohma release

pronouns — they/them

note — in honour of the 2.0 announcement trailer, i included the newest boy to my writing list (tohma by beloved) - i’ve also added baal (or raiden), ayaka, and yoimiya!

KAZUHA

kazuha wasn’t usually confrontational off of the battle field — opting for more serene and peaceful things while resting and spending his time with you

but sometimes when emotions boil over, we say things that we don’t mean, nor wish to say at all — it’s in the heat of the moment type of thing, which is exactly what was happening to kazuha in the present time

“you don’t get it- you never will,” kazuha paced away from you, wanting to put an end to the conversation station as soon as he could.

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you took strides to catch up with the upset male, desperate to understand his reasoning. “why don’t you face me, and tell me why the hell you won’t let me help-“ the moment your hand made contact with his arm, he turned in fury — something you had never seen him in ever.

“you’re too clumsy, too reckless, and simply not able to withstand that type of battles that would occur!” kazuha’s face was mere inches from your own. “you’re just not enough.”

you weren’t enough.

he was talking about physical ability, but... why did it feel as if he was talking about everything — the way you dressed, the way you acted, the person you are.

he didn’t think you were enough.

“... if- if you think so lowly of me, then i don’t think this is going to work,” your feet slowly brought your body away from the now shocked and calming male, trying to put as much distance as you could between the two of you.

“y/n-“ he reached out for your arm, only to pull back as if he had been shocked as you flinched away from it. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“well that’s what it sounded like kazuha.”

you never called him kazuha — it was always kaz, or some other nickname — but never kazuha.

“i’ll leave you to your business, and i’ll board with beidou in the morning,” the distance grew greater, and hearts cracked piece by piece. “i hope you find someone who’s enough on your travels.”

kazuha’s heart left with you — the emptiness in his chest product of his own doings, his own words.

it seemed that he was the one not enough for you.

TOHMA

tohma didn’t like to fight, argue, or even cause any sort of pain to you — and in the past if he ever did, it was not by his choice, or it was a complete accident

yet here he found himself, spouting words he didn’t mean, watching the look of anger on your face crumble into hurt and betrayal

tohma was tired — beyond even — with the job that he possessed, and the dedication to match, nights were often spent resting and resetting for the next.

“y/n i really don’t have time for this right now, you know this,” his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to rid himself of both the anger and headache that clawed at his mind.

“i think you have plenty of time right now — all i’m asking is for you to consider my idea,” you stepped closer to the blonde, brings your hands up to run through his hair in order to help calm him down. “i just want to see you a little more often, even if it’s only a day a week — just more then i see you now-“

his head was yanked away from your hands, and his eyes burned into you like the vision that hung on his hip. “for the last time! i have my duties with the kamisato clan, and they need my dedication and focus — i don’t have time to waste.”

his words didn’t fully click in his head, until he saw your eyes widen in both shock and hurt — and all he could do was watch as your body slowly backed away and shrank into itself, becoming smaller and smaller by the second.

you tried to appear bigger in mere moments after the metaphorical slap to the face — your chin being held high, eyes narrowed, and drawn in tight.

“don’t bother coming home tomorrow, or the nextday, or even the next,” he could see the hurt as you tried to keep your composer. “wouldn’t want you wasting time, now would we?”

“y/n-“

“leave tohma — you have your duties, remember?”

it happened too fast for tohma to handle — one minute you were happily chatting, next the argument broke out, and the next, he had broken the one promise he had made to himself and you.

he had hurt you, one too many times.

DILUC

he was a calm and collected man, trying many other options before it truly came down to a fight — he poked and prodded most times during arguments, but never before had he pointed out things he knew would hurt

maybe that’s why he wasn’t only in shock as he watch the anger turn into sadness and thought, but also at the words that seemed to flow out of his mouth like a river

“dee, please take a break,” your hands worked on his shoulders — thumbs pushing on the knots and sore spots in the muscles, trying anything you could to get the red haired man to relax.

“y/n please — i’ll come to bed in a few more minutes, i just have to finish this-“ the quill was plucked out of his hands before you could finish — now dangling between your own fingertips.

“you said that the yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that — i know you dee — like that back of my hand,” you waved the back of your hand in an example, the smile on your face doing nothing to ease the furrow in his brow.

he was committed to finishing paperwork and documents — and if that meant forgoing a few nights of actual rest and calmness, then so be it.

but you were making that difficult.

“give me that,” diluc harshly grabbed the quill from your hand, not caring or registering if he had hurt you in the process.

he turned back to his work as soon as it was in his hand, but the moment didn’t last long.

“diluc-“ your hand reached down for the quill again, but were quickly shoved back as he stood from the chair.

“would you just give me some space!” his eyes and cheeks gleamed red, similar to the colour of his hair. “i can’t get any actual work done when your clinging to me like an animal in heat!” in the moment, diluc didn’t care if he had hurt you, and that was one of his many mistakes in that moment.

the quietness was tense and uncomfortable — dilucs heavy breathing, and the sound of soft fidgeting being the only things that could be heard.

“i’ll leave you be then,” you turned in that moment, the tears running freshly down your face the second your back was to the man.

diluc didn’t panic at first.

he had hurt you, yes — but you would let him cool down, calm, and finish was he was doing. that was all.

but the empty room that was once occupied by two and the quick feet that turned and walked in the other direction every time he was near — was enough to tell him the truth.

you left him to be on his own.

for good.

[no-droids]

Out of a Trillion

gif credit: @bestintheparsec​

Part Fifteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.6K

Warnings: uhhhh so there is a bit of SMUT in this one, not too much and I imagine if you’ve made it this far then that won’t be too big of a deal LMFAOOO uh some ANGST and my attempt at HURT/COMFORT and also violence/blood/injury description, so look out for that!

A/N: I started writing this before the season finale aired and I know we all want a bit of goodness and softness after it, but hopefully this will be okay!  I’ll start working on the next part tonight

***

Everything changes and yet somehow nothing does.  

From that point on, it’s like… like you’re both just suspended in this perpetual state of wondering, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  You know he said it’s up to you, but what the fuck?  Look whenever you want?  That’s way too much fucking pressure, he’s out of his mind.  You’re not equipped to handle that, who does he think you are?  Someone that can just… decide things?

And it’s not like you’re afraid of the commitment, or that you don’t want to look.  You do, but every single time a moment comes, it just never… feels right.  You don’t know what you’re waiting for, what feeling or meaning you’re expecting to magically present itself to you, but you can’t shake the idea that there should be more to it than just randomly deciding to open your eyes at some point, shouldn’t there?  Din said there was no ceremony, nothing fancy, and he gave you permission to look because he said he’s not allowed to ask outright, whatever that means.  It’s a standing offer because you guess he isn’t allowed to prompt it for some reason, but unfortunately, that leaves you in just about the shittiest position possible.  Now everything falls to you—initiation, execution, and consequence—and Maker knows you’ve never been that great making decisions under pressure.

But you do want to look.  Sort of.

Sort of.  Because… well, this probably won’t make that much sense, but you’re afraid.  Mostly for him.  What if he’s making a mistake?  It sounds stupid, but you’re afraid of what this means for him, the sheer perpetuity of this decision he’s now expecting you to make for the both of you.  This isn’t your creed, not yet, and you feel like there’s still so much to learn.  Not only about the Mandalorians and his culture, but about him.  To know is to love, and so you’ve taken to asking any nonsensical question you can think of whenever he’s around.  Though you weren’t expecting it at first, you’ve learned that he’ll always give you some sort of an answer.  Some of the highlights include:

“How old are you?”  (“I don’t know.  Probably mid-forties, but there’s no way to tell anymore.”)

“You don’t know your birthday?”  (No, I… think it was in the winter.”)

“What’s your last name?”  (“Djarin.”)

“Do you have any freckles?  Or moles, or birthmarks?”  (“No, none that I’ve ever noticed.”)

“Do you cut your own hair?”  (“Yes, but it’s been awhile.”)

“Do you have dimples?”  (“I don’t smile in mirrors.”)

“Are your earlobes attached or detached?”  (“What kind of question is that?”)

And so forth.

He also gives you so many fucking opportunities to look.  One right after the other.  You used to think Din was incredibly trusting with how often and voluntarily he decided to take his helmet off around you—he didn’t wait a single day once he first felt your hands on his skin to take it off in your presence.  You remember being blown away by his unexpected willingness to part with it after hearing so many tales of the Mandalorians from Kuill; stunned by the ever-present ability to just open your eyes at any moment and that’s all it would ever take.  One simple movement—life-altering, and so easy.

Now you find it nearly impossible, muscle memory just won’t allow it to happen naturally.  And yet somehow, avoiding it is like stepping around land mines.  He doesn’t trick you—he doesn’t set it up, he doesn’t surprise you or anything, but he’s… less careful.  When the kid is awake, Din acts normal—he walks around fully armored, he goes on hunts and returns a few days later with a quarry, teaches you more self-defense techniques in the cleared out hull while the kid watches and giggles at your pain from the safety of his floating crib.  But when the baby goes to sleep, he’s taken to lounging with the helmet off.  He only used to remove it to eat, sleep, or… do other things with you, but he never used to take it off just… because.  Now he does.  Now he’s less careful about darkness, less strict about how much light he allows to touch him.

Now he shares every single meal he can with you, sitting just off to the side so you’ll never see him on accident but providing the free exercise thereof should you ever decide to seek it out purposefully.  Now he interrupts you in the middle of your complaining about the bruises on your knuckles just to lift the rim of his helmet the slightest bit, lean down and give you a quick kiss, and then lower it back into position again before you can even catch a glimpse of the lips you only recognize by touch.  Now he keeps the light on when he goes to take a shower, he leaves the door cracked.

It’s starting to give you heart palpitations, you swear.  At one point, he lets you to see the entire back of his head and it nearly launches you into a fucking crisis.

It’s the middle of the night and he just got up from bed to use the restroom.  He’s quiet enough not to wake you on the way over, but then across the hull and with his back to you, Din flicks the light on in the small bathroom without closing the door.  Immediately rousing you after being so accustomed to the pitch blackness, you lift your head from the warmth of your shared pillow just enough to blearily make out the sight of him leaning a hand up against the wall and dropping his head down, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s actually him.

Soft, dark brown locks ending at his collar but somehow looking longer than you ever imagined when you’ve run your fingers through them.  Cascading in shaggy, natural curls—tall, broad shouldered and trim waisted, naked as the day he was born.  Your heart starts to squeeze in your chest and it just never stops, and for the second time in your life, you feel like he woke you up in the middle of the night just to show you one of the most beautiful things the universe ever decided to hide.  There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have ever seen a sight that would compare?  He’s just a man, you don’t think a single person would bat an eye.  But to you, he’s… his own monument.  Constructed in honor of everything dazzling that happens to lie just underneath something else.  A breathtaking view, even from this angle, that could only ever mean something to you.

Would you ever be able to know him?  No, that’s not phrased right.  What you mean is that… over the course of all your time together, you remember thinking that if he ever took his helmet off, he could walk right by you and you’d never be able to tell the difference.  He could be anybody.  There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have the same features?  Brown hair, brown eyes, sunkissed skin that only one person is allowed to kiss, not even the sun.  Would you ever be able to know him?

Staring at his back in the blissful silence of hyperspace and feeling like the Maker himself is letting you in on one of his proudest secrets, some wild thought suddenly occurs to you that… you think you would.  Somehow.

You can’t explain it and you’d never be able to prove it, but you feel like if you lined up every single person in this galaxy shoulder to shoulder, all however many trillions of them there are, then you could walk the entire length of it and somehow come to a stop right where he’s standing.  Every single time.  You feel like you could do it in the pitch black.  You could do it with your eyes closed.

And, he must just be so gorgeous.  Maybe not in a traditional sense (or maybe in one, you’d have no way of knowing), but mostly in just… the rawest sense imaginable.  Not like how symmetry and straight lines are gorgeous, but how a mountain is gorgeous.  Rocky, dangerous, steep, the product of constant conflict between two immovable sides.  He’s got scars littering his body, one of which you remember giving him yourself with a cauterizer on his lower back.  He holds himself like his shoulders could tell their own story if anyone ever asked them; built to endure, weighed down and made strong with a collection of burdens he chooses to strap to them, steel or otherwise.

You don’t want to close your eyes once Din slowly turns around to look at you, but it happens anyways and you’ve never been so disappointed in your own cowardice.

But then, in a way, it could just be your own self-preservation instincts taking over.  No matter how stunning and life changing the spectacle would be, why would anyone ever stare directly at a supernova?  For so long, you’ve told yourself that his face is something you shouldn’t ever see on principle, but in a way, you suppose it’s fair he put this decision on you because he always has, even from the very beginning.  He trusted you to keep your eyes closed for months on end and you never had a problem with it, so why is it so hard to open them now that he’s given you permission?

A couple weeks of that, and you start to worry that you’re unintentionally rejecting him.

It’s the last fucking thing you want, but how can you avoid it?  Din is… different, he notices.  He’s made a living off of finding things that inherently don’t want to be found—he knows all too well what secrecy looks and sounds like, he’s quick and observant and you don’t stand a single fucking chance against him in all the years of his practice.

But strangely, for as often as you feel like you can figure out what he’s thinking without ever seeing his face—realizing what his intentions are ahead of time and not feeling slighted when he phrases things a certain way or just chooses not to speak at all—you never truly realized how much that extended back to you.

He knows you, too.  He told you so.

For some reason, you didn’t even consider the possibility of it working just as well the other way around.  That you could choose to stay silent, and he’d know why.  You feel like the mystery of him just eclipses you in every single way that you don’t consider even yourself much of anything, much less something else to be contemplated and understood.  While you wouldn’t necessarily qualify the conflict as not being ready to commit, he seems more than willing to respect it regardless and nothing about the way he treats you or interacts with you changes.  Normally you’d say it’s like he forgot the whole thing ever happened, but it’s almost the exact opposite.  Like he was just naturally expecting it from you.

Are you truly so predictable, you wonder?  He said you’d say no.  Was he right?  You’re not saying no, you just… can’t remember the word for yes right now.  It’s right there on the tip of your tongue and the harder you work for it, the more frustrated you become with your own inability to find it.

But, instead of waiting, you think Din just decides to continue the conversation with the promise to come back to you when you finally figure it out.

Sometimes, especially when he’s gone, you find yourself thinking about what moment you’d choose, if you could.  Since you can never seem to find the right one naturally, how would it all go if you could construct everything yourself?  Where would it be?  Naboo?  No, that’s too cheesy.  One thing you and Din both have in common is your practicality, your respective propensities for wanting to tackle one thing at a time and not needing frills attached to something in order to find a deep connection to it, a personal value to it.  You weren’t even bothered when he didn’t claim you as a girlfriend to Peli, that’s how reasonable you used to be about labels.  Now you’re your own antithesis, trying to conjure meaning where there isn’t any just so you don’t feel like you’re the one who’s ripping it away.  You want this decision to feel as permanent as it is.  You want it to be a happy thing, something that happens when you’re both so in love that you can’t bear to have metal separating you any longer.

You think… you’ll just know it when the time comes.

***

“I have to leave,” comes Din’s hushed voice through the darkness, and even though it’s the first thing either of you have said in hours, it sounds frustrated.  Like it’s been bothering him for awhile and he’s just now finally telling you.  “I… fuck, I can’t stay here, I should’ve left a long time ago.”

You whine softly into the pitch black, turning your head into the pillow and curling your fingers into his hair.  “But it’s still so early…”

“It’s mid-afternoon,” he groans back, dropping his forehead down against your skin and breathing hot air along it.  “We’ve been parked here for hours, I don’t know how you can sleep so long.”

“I’m not sleeping,” you pout, before gently dragging your nails down his scalp and feeling his whole body shudder with it.  “Earlier I was.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you one last long, slow kiss.  You sigh when his tongue comes out and glides soft and hot against your lips, tightening your grip on his hair.

But soon he pulls away, lifting the covers from over his head and pushing up from between your spread legs.  “This one shouldn’t take long,” he gruffs, planting both palms next to your head and kissing you once more in the darkness, dipping his tongue into your mouth this time.  You moan softly and taste yourself on him, moving to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, but he breaks the kiss and leans back before you can, preemptively avoiding the possibility of getting lost in it.  “I’ll be back around dawn.”

You’ve known it was coming for hours now, so you’re able to play it off way better this time around.  “Okay,” you breathe softly, dragging your palms up his bare chest as he lifts himself tall over your body.  The slight disappointment underneath is so masterfully hidden, you’re almost positive you’re going to get away with it.  “Be safe.  Please.”

But then… well.  Bounty hunter.

Din pauses for a moment like that in between your open legs, letting you slowly slide your hands down his ribs and over the lines of his stomach.  You wait for him to move, find his clothes so you can get around and make some food, wake the kid up from his nap in an hour or so.  Can’t stay in bed all day, no matter how much you wish you could.

Only, he still hasn’t moved and you start to become concerned.  “Din?”

But then he suddenly groans like he just can’t help it, grabbing both of your spread legs and easily lifting them up.  You make a sound of confusion as he maneuvers them until they’re pressed together and draped over one of his shoulders, and then his hips drop and push forward to slide himself thick and perfect into your blazing hot cunt.

Still drenched and swollen from cumming in his mouth so many times earlier, you gasp and he just groans louder, a ragged thing scraping out of his throat while you struggle through blind and unexpected euphoria to reach him.  But you can’t—Din hugs your legs tight to his chest and settles in just like this, turning his head to drag soft lips and a hot tongue over your ankle before he starts fucking you.  Right up against your g-spot, with your whole lower body in the way and preventing you from slowing him down.

You just have to clap both hands over your mouth just to keep quiet since you can’t reach him.  You feel his teeth sink into the meat of your calf, hips pistoning far beyond your reach and it feels so fucking good that you almost don’t hear his gritted words against your skin.

“I have to go,” he groans, repeating it over and over until his voice begins to pull tight and it just sounds like a plea.  “I have to go, I have to go, I h—have to… h-have to go, I have to, I have to, I have…”

*** 

When Din finally steps foot out of the ship, fumbling with his rifle and cursing quietly through the modulator, it’s the middle of the night some twelve hours later.

***

Steady…

Steady………

Fire.

—and… you blink as bark splinters.

Did you…?  You look down at the blaster in your hand and then back to the ginormous charred tree trunk for a few seconds, wondering if you’re just seeing shit.

No, it’s real.  You actually fucking did it.  You…

… hit the target.

All of a sudden, your ecstatic giggle echoes loudly throughout the foresty autumn wonderland around you, reds and oranges and yellows crunching under your feet while you start to dance.

“Hey!  See that, bug!?”  You call out, shoving the blaster into your waistband and shimmying up to your enthralled audience of one, who just so happens to be smiling as wide as you are as he’s scooped up into your arms.  “I hit the target, I hit the target,” you sing, beginning to sway the baby back and forth as he squeals, laughing while you bounce him.  “No demon powers necessary, little man!  I figured it out, I just have to use one hand instead of two.  You can retire now, you’re the right age for—”

A twig snaps in the distance somewhere to your left, and you quickly spin around while reaching for the blaster behind your back.

Except all you see is a blue Twi’lek standing out amongst all the fall foliage, his hands cuffed behind his back and stumbling a few steps at a time while a considerably taller suit of beskar shoves him forward.  You relax and immediately turn to look down at the ground, trying to bite your lip so you don’t smile too hard while they both approach.  You did it—finally, you did it, you’re on top of the fucking universe right now.

You wait for them to pass by and move up the open metal ramp to the carbonite chamber, but then Din apparently decides to pause when he’s directly behind you, yanking the quarry to a sudden halt.  

You know you should probably turn around to address them, but you can’t hide the happiness from your expression, it’s way too obvious.  Though, after a moment, you decide to shyly turn to face the two men while continuing to bounce the baby in your arms, hoping that his and your matching expressions of excitement aren’t too terribly inappropriate right now.

Din looks from you to the splintered bark on the tree, and then back to you again, before slowly tilting the helmet up in a way that feels… proud of you.

“Congratulations,” he finally says, and you can hear the genuine smile hidden in the modulated drawl.

“Thank you,” you beam up at him, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks.  “Was pretty awesome.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” he tells you, and you don’t know why, but the tone of his voice makes you go so warm.  It’s not like he’s openly flirting with you, but coupled with your giddiness and sounding like that in front of a bounty he caught in record time, it just makes your heart fucking throb for him.

“It’s alright,” you murmur, shuffling your feet through the crunchy leaves below and trying to play it as cool as possible.  You have company.  “I’ll be able to do it again.”

“Let’s see it, then.”  He tips the helmet over at the tree, and you look between him and the unfamiliar quarry for a second, not used to Din just… ignoring their existence entirely for you.  It’s not like the Twi’lek has said anything or inserted himself into the situation at all, but still.  Din has one hand latched onto the cuffs behind his back to prevent him from booking it, but other than that, it’s like he’s pretending he’s not even there.

“Uh…”  You immediately feel yourself get nervous.  “I can… try.”

He nods one single time in silent encouragement, and you slowly turn to face the tree once more.  The kid stays cradled in your arm while you reach for the blaster in your waistband, removing it and using your longest finger to flick the safety off with a practiced fluidity.  Then, extending it out in front of you and taking advantage of your newfound strategy of only firing with one hand, you line up the sight and pull the trigger.

You wish you could say it hits.  It would be so fucking cool and impressive if you hit the target like that, wouldn’t it?  But it doesn’t hit.  It misses, like usual.  Miserably.  And then an amused snort comes from behind you.

“Right stormtrooper, you are—” you hear an unfamiliar accent begin to snark, but the rest of it turns into a garbled howl the second Din jerks his elbow back to slam it in his face.

You whip around just in time to see a cascade of blood pouring down blue lips and sharp teeth—holy fuck.  You gasp and take a step backwards with the kid, not horrified by the sudden display of violence (not after Din spent an hour teaching you how to do that, too) but not quite expecting it at that moment, either.  But then, well… that’s the second time he broke a quarry’s nose for addressing you with disrespect.  There was that other one he choked, you’re pretty sure—though you can’t remember exactly what initiated that.

Din yanks the bounty up the ramp without another word, leaving both you and the kid there to process while he shoves him through the hull and towards the carbonite chamber none too kindly.  However, by the time he seals the quarry to his fate and eventually makes his way back to you, you just… 

Fuck, you feel so stupid.

You shouldn’t even bother, what’s the point?  All that practice and nothing to show for it.  If you can’t even hit a stationary target with the pressure of others watching, what makes you think you’ll have any hope at all in a situation where you actually need to shoot?  Are they gonna stand still for you?  Are they gonna be as wide as a fucking treetrunk?  You’re horribly embarrassed, so downtrodden in the face of a cruel taunt that you don’t even want to look at Din when he steps in front of you.

“Hey, just try it again,” he says without delay, but the damage has already been done.  It’s not his fault, you’re just… not the kind of person who is meant to shoot a blaster, maybe.  

“Ah… it’s alright,” you look out and smile sadly at the line of trees surrounding you, wondering how it’s possible that you only managed to hit one of them this whole time.  You don’t see it, but Din quickly touches the tips of his fingers to the side of his helmet twice before you look back at him.  “I hit it earlier.  I did, I promise.  You can see the mark if you look.”

His glove reaches out to brush your hair back, so unbelievably gentle after using the same arm to shatter bone just a few minutes ago.  “I know you did.  It was a perfect shot, you hit dead center.  I see it.”

“I did it with one hand, that’s why I tried the thing,” you mumble stupidly, looking down at your feet.  Dumb.  Dumb.

A strand of your hair is tucked behind your ear.  “Wish I was here.”

You glance over at him, feeling your expression suddenly go soft with a wave of affection.  It stops all the harsh criticisms, halting your negativity in its tracks and replacing it with just… soft, abstract things.  Mostly just warm, nonsensical fluff, but one clear and resounding thought breaking through.  You wish he was here, too.

“Maybe I’ll get good at it eventually,” you sigh, slowly handing him the blaster with the barrel pointed down and away from both of you.  Din carefully takes it from you, tucking it away somewhere on his utility belt while you gaze out at the designated target and victorious char mark decorating it.  “Or hopefully just okay at it at some point.  I guess I just need to practice more, right?”

“That’s right,” he tells you warmly, catching your free wrist.  “Try using this one when you do.”  And then a lightweight piece of metal is gently pushed into your empty hand.

Your expression furrows while you quickly look down at it, and—

You go utterly still at the gift, not even knowing what to think.

The first thing that you notice is the craftsmanship.  Brilliant, structurally flawless, the perfect size to fit your hand.  You don’t recognize the specific kind of metal that was used—definitely not beskar—but you think it might be constructed from the same material as Din’s old armor.  Dull silver, but with reflective chrome filigree accents around the handle, trigger, and safety.  It’s uniquely constructed and unlike any weapon you’ve ever seen before—no hard lines or edges, just a soft fluidity to the design that’s so aesthetically pleasing, it doesn’t really even resemble a blaster at all.

You can feel the visor silently studying your reaction while you continue marveling, noticing something new every time you look.  The safety is towards the back of the chamber, just like he said it’d be.  The sight is electronic, and you examine the way it’s built directly into the barrel.

Are those extra magnets on the inside?  Is this able to micro-adjust the plasma release for the best shot?  Holy stars, it must have cost a fortune.

“Din, this is…” you can’t decide where you want to look—the gorgeous crafting, the custom design, or him.  Standing so close to you, not saying a word while you search for the right ones.  “It’s so beautiful, I…”

“Was made for you,” he murmurs.  “Had to be.”

You look back down at the blaster to stop your eyes from tearing up.  He didn’t have to do this.  This is so… sweet, such a lovely thing to do.  Don’t cry, don’t cry—

“What is this?” You ask breathlessly instead, rotating the gun until he can see the symbol branded on the handle.  You recognize that it’s his signet, but you never bothered to ask him what it’s called, you never saw it as your place.  It’s an animal of some sort, one with a giant spike attached to its skull, and you’re glad you’ve never come face to face with one.

“It’s a mudhorn,” he answers quietly.  “They’re… dangerous animals.  Fiercely protective, preferring solitude.  The kid saved me from one a few days after I met him.  It’s… the mark of my clan.”

How fitting, you think, and an honor.  Perfect for him, and a bone-deep reminder of your two favorite people in the galaxy on your hip wherever you go.

“Thank you,” you tell him, hoping the sincerity in your voice sounds anywhere close to how you feel.  You haven’t even had it in your hand for longer than a minute and it’s already your prized position, the most important thing you’ve ever called yours.

Din nods and takes a small step back.  “Now hit the target.”

Feeling invigorated and renewed in every single way, you keep the kid tucked firmly in one arm while raising your blaster with the other.  The safety clicks off and your back straightens, chin lifting until something about the angle feels… right.  The trigger moves easily under your fingertip, and there’s almost no kickback considering how light the weapon is.  What you’re not expecting is the pure white beam of plasma shooting out of the barrel—unlike any blaster you’ve ever seen before—but then the immediate sight of it hitting the tree dead center sends a roar of triumph through your ears.  Fuck yes.

“Look at that!”  Din calls out over the kid’s happy squeal, and there’s nothing you can do to stop your loud whoop of victory.  Even though you know it only hit with the addition of those extra magnets to correct your terrible aim, that still feels so good—you feel so fucking powerful and dangerous.  You glance over to Din with a wide smile, but then his arm extends out towards the trunk directly next to the one with charred bark.  “Hit that one.”

You automatically swing the blaster in that direction and shoot.  A few pieces of wood split on impact and send sharp bits flying as soon as the bright white beam collides with it.

“That one,” Din tells you, and then bark splinters a half second later.  “That one.”  Bark splinters.  “That one, that one, that one—” hit, hit, hit, white plasma flying through the air and bark splintering in rapid succession.

He stops and spins around, pointing to a tree at the very edge of the clearing.  “That one?”

It’s furthest away but the trunk’s diameter is enormous.  As you lift the blaster, you know you’re likely to get it easily with this sophisticated weapon, even across the considerable distance.  So instead, feeling like nothing at all can touch you right now and wanting to see how smart the aim mechanism is, you raise up a few degrees higher before pulling the trigger.  Pale plasma launches from the barrel, and then one of the tree’s most prominent branches comes creaking and crashing to the ground right where you split it.

You’re beaming by the time Din turns back to you, the most excited you’ve ever been with your own progress.  He holds there for a moment while you lower your blaster and wait for him to speak, both of you looking at each other and not moving, until suddenly you hear his voice coming back to you.

Hit the target and I’ll marry you.

One of Din’s hands slowly comes up to the edge of his helmet, but before you can even process the implication behind the gesture, you’re immediately looking down at the crunchy leaves under your feet and clearing your throat.

There’s a beat of silence where you stare down at the dead foliage and wonder why the fuck you just did that.  Right in front of him, right to his face, too startled at how quickly you were being confronted with the possibility that you responded in an equally startled way.  It was instinctual, automatic and entirely out of your control, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to take it back.

But… you can’t take it back.  That’s the way things are, and after a few moments, you hear his boots begin to cross the distance to you.

“Come on,” Din murmurs gently through the modulator, carefully taking the blaster from your hand and clicking the safety back on again.  “We have to get going.  The fifth quarry is far.  Three day trip through hyperspace.”

He doesn’t sound upset or disappointed by your unintentional rejection, thank the Maker.  You want to explain yourself somehow, but it appears it isn’t necessary in the slightest.  His arm wraps around your lower back and he leads both you and the baby back up the open ramp of the Crest, squeezing you close enough to his side that you have to learn how to walk in a different way to stop yourself from tripping over his boots.

The helmet turns and presses to the top of your head while you focus on moving straight.  “Proud of you,” Din murmurs quietly, and your chest fills with enough air that you’d be worried about floating away if he wasn’t latched onto you so tightly.

He eventually releases you and walks over to the armory, pressing a button to unlock the doors while you hold the kid and watch him start to remove the multitude of weapons strapped to his body.

Maybe… maybe this isn’t the right time, but something brave surges up inside you.  After receiving the most precious gift imaginable from him, hitting all those targets and hearing him say that he’s proud of you, you’re buzzing with just enough energy that for better or worse, it makes you open your mouth and ask.

“Could I… come with you this time?”

Din nearly jerks upright and looks over at you immediately, but he takes a while in responding.  You hope he sees it in your eyes.  You hope he sees just how much you don’t want to be stuck here again when this is possibly the one time you’d be able to tag along.  It’s a bullshit quarry, one he could do in his sleep, and you’ve been getting increasingly restless while stuck on this ship.

When Din eventually does respond… well, judging from his shift in tone, you’re assuming he was just shocked at the question and didn’t take any of that time to actually consider his answer.

“No.”  Short.  Unfeeling, and not sorry about it in the slightest, before turning back to return the blasters you were using previously to the armory as if you said nothing at all.

Okay…  Um.  Not great, not what you wanted to hear, but maybe if you explain yourself better, he’ll listen.

“I just… I’m the only reason you have to get this quarry in the first place.”  Your voice is quiet, trying to let go of some of the concerns you’ve kept to yourself over the past two weeks.  Your fingers fiddle idly with the kid’s little woolen sack as he hangs out in your arms, wanting to plead your case but feeling slightly nervous now.  “You were out having a crazy expensive blaster made for me while I shook hands with Karga and agreed that you’d take more work for less pay.  I hate that I did that.”

“You had no choice,” Din mutters, turning around and striding past you while pressing a button on his vambrace to close the Crest’s ramp.  “My fault for being late.”  And… for as warm and comforting as his voice sounded earlier, it now just sounds… dismissive.  Aloof.  Half-listening, not really wanting to talk but forcing himself to.

“Well this time, I thought maybe… I might be able to help?  Maybe?”  Maker, you feel yourself going quieter the more he walks around the hull and ignores you.  “Karga said it was just a missing person, not even a criminal…”

“Karga says a lot of things,” he grunts with his back to you, voice completely monotone through the modulator.

Come on, speak up.  You’ve lacked a backbone for so long, you’ll never get what you want unless you say it out loud and let it be known.  You take a deep breath and straighten your shoulders, trying to put a little bit of spine into it.  “I can be useful.  I can fight now, I’ve been working on my—” 

“You think I’m telling you no because I don’t think you’re capable?”  He suddenly whips around, voice ringing sharp and challenging throughout the hull while you freeze.  You don’t move but everything about you suddenly feels like it shrinks.

“I-I didn’t—” But he cuts you off, taking a step forward.

“I know you can fight, a Mandalorian taught you how.  I know you’re useful, I know it’s just a missing person, and I know you hate it when I leave.”  He pins you with his eyes through the visor, his tone harder than you think you’ve ever heard it before.  “No.  Your job is to stay here, on this ship, with my son, where it is safe, and my job is to go get the quarry.  Quit asking.  I’m not telling you again.”

The baby makes a tiny little distressed sound in your arms and you blink a few times up at the cold metal, feeling all the good feelings from before just… drain out of you.

Okay, that’s fine.  Uh.  You… the cockpit is behind you, you’ll go up there and fly then.  No reason, just… he should get going.

“Okay, yeah,” you nod and tell the wall over his shoulder brace in immediate agreement, before abruptly spinning around and grabbing the ladder.  Din doesn’t move a single fucking muscle while you try to find your way up to the cockpit with the baby held to your chest and a dead stone sitting heavy inside of it, hoping your face doesn’t show the vulnerability you feel wanting to take over as you retreat.  Get to the cockpit first, get to the cockpit first, get to the—

“Sweet girl, I…” you barely hear murmured through the helmet from the floor, soft enough to sound slightly shocked, but you scramble into the cockpit and shut the door behind you before he can say anything else.

***

Silence didn't used to feel like this.

At first it was eerie, unnatural and stifling when you spent years in a wide open desert, wind swirling and dust pelting.  It suffocated you the first few times you jumped into hyperspace, a phenomena you read all about and considered mathematically fascinating before ever experiencing for yourself.  It was… foreign and strange, but you began to value it more and more as time passed.

Then, you started to get to know him and silence just became comforting.  Something you could bask in, knowing it was a comfort to him.  A choice he made because it just fit him best.  You felt safe in it, you felt like you didn’t have to be anything else but you.  You never had to break it just to avoid awkwardness, you became… closer to it, until you learned to fall in love with it.

But only when he was with you and it was his silence.  Not… everything else’s.  Now it’s haunting again.  Now the sheer lack of sound through hyperspace is a stranger to you, and the distortion of light surrounding the cockpit feels less about the sheer magnificence of manipulating space time and more about the fundamental disconnect it causes.  Gorgeous, but at its core, a severance.  Ripping the fabric of the universe apart, tearing a wound in it.

It’s been a few hours and nothing exceptional has happened since your conversation in the hull.  

You’ll admit that you’re a sensitive person, and because of that, you’ve always had a problem knowing if you were right or wrong when someone comes at you with a hard enough will.  You second-guess yourself, it’s one of your worst traits, and you feel like trying to squash that tendency without knowing the limit is partially to blame for why you’re holed up in this cockpit with the kid.  You’re quiet but in a different way from Din.  When he doesn’t speak, it’s because most of the time, he’s sure of himself and doesn’t need to.  When you don’t speak, it’s because most of the time, you’re insecure and don’t want to.

After being left alone with your thoughts for this long, you’re starting to realize that… he was right.  What were you thinking, wanting to tag along?  Wanting to hang out while he risks his life for this occupation, you probably sounded so fucking ignorant.  Maybe… maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but his point is still very valid and you’re not sure if you’re really justified in hiding like this anymore.

The way he said… your job, though.  That still stings a bit.  This hasn’t felt like an actual job in a very long time.  Was that just an expression, or did he mean it literally?  You’re stuck on it, you’ve just been going over this for hours in your head, trying to figure out if you should be the one to apologize or not—or if this is just you overreacting from the start and no apologies will be necessary at all.

“Sorry you got stuck with me, kid,” you mutter sadly to the baby, watching him fiddle with his favorite metal ball in your lap.  He makes a little gurgle, purring in that weirdly adorable little way of his and it somehow feels like a reassurance directed to you that he’s just fine the way he is.

Maker, you haven’t heard anything from the hull in a fucking eternity; it’s like Din turned into a ghost, hasn’t even made a single footstep that you could hear since you last left him standing there.  You remember performing a quick flight check as soon as you got up here, lifting off as fast as you could and hoping the thrusters would rumble loud enough to cover your series of pitifully shallow sniffles at being yelled at unexpectedly by a very large and intimidating man, not really crying but not really able to breathe normal either.  The little monster was able to wiggle himself around in your lap as you were trying to punch in the correct coordinates for the fifth quarry with rapidly blinking, watery eyes, and then proceeded to give your belly the smallest hug you think you’ve ever been given and pretty much break your heart with it.

Lovely little boy, so sweet when he wants to be.  He’s sat with you this whole time, he even tried giving you his metal ball to play with but ultimately decided to keep it to himself when he realized you aren’t nearly as fascinated by it as he is.  You know it’s probably getting late for him, and you’ve been weighing the idea of handing him over to his father so he can at least get a good night’s sleep somewhere that isn’t your arms.  There’s no blankets in here, just your lap.

“I think I gotta go take you to your dad soon, tiny.  He’s probably missing you,” you tell him, trying to keep quiet enough that you won’t disturb Din in the hull.  There’s a good chance he’s already asleep.  “I think… he might still be mad at me.  Maybe you can give him the big eyes, soften him up a little?”

Right on cue, his enormous eyes start to droop closed, and you let out a tired sigh of exasperation.  That’s not gonna work, come on.  They gotta be open, booger.

You watch him slowly drift to sleep, his ears relaxing until they too start to droop, but when you try to take the ball from him and set it down on the console, his eyes immediately pop back open and the toy slips from your fingertips.  It levitates right back into his tiny hands as you watch, and then he closes his eyes once more while tightly cuddling the thing he loves most to his body.

Unbelievable.

He’s a child, and yet he’s…

“How are you so strong?”  You ask him, unable to even fathom.  “You’re the smallest, most helpless little thing I’ve ever seen and you’ve got such… strength.  You defy the universe for a piece of metal.”

He doesn’t hear you, you think he’s asleep again.  It’s just as well, you figure.  He needs to go sleep in his crib, it’s time.  You scoop him up and make sure the little ball stays tucked snugly in his arms, before finally standing up and stumbling over to the door on numb legs.

Only, when it slides open, you quickly stop short.

Because there, sitting on the floor and resting his helmet against the corner of this small little platform leading to the ladder, is the Mandalorian.

So much closer than you expected him to be.  So big, crammed into such a tiny place.  You didn’t hear his footsteps climbing the ladder, and you would’ve noticed it during the hours you’ve spent in the suffocatingly muted quiet of hyperspace.  He can be silent but not when absolutely nothing else exists and he’s got a thousand fucking pounds of steel weighing him down at any moment in time.  You took off almost immediately once you barricaded yourself inside the cockpit, so has he… did he follow you up in those last few seconds, right after you shut the door?  The ones when you were sniffling like a child and trying desperately to turn the thrusters on before you let the tears come?

His head lifts and his back straightens as you’re looking down at him with his sleeping son cradled in your arms, your eyes slightly redder than they should be.  You’re a mess and… he’s been here this whole time?

“Could you hear me in there?”  You whisper in sudden mortification, but Din just keeps gazing up at you through the impenetrable metal visor.  A complete mystery again.  Unreadable—he could be anyone.

When he doesn’t answer you, your heart twists with the possibility that he’s still upset with you, and you quickly turn to the ladder to figure out the best way to get down without jostling the baby.

“I’m sorry.”  His voice stops you dead in your tracks.  It’s so soft, nearly flipping in and out of the modulator from the lack of volume, the most cautious sounding thing you’ve ever heard coming through the filter.  “I… hurt your feelings.  I’m sorry.”

And…  Maker, if anybody else had said it.  If literally anybody else had said it, you know it would’ve sounded like the most sarcastic, dickish remark in such a delicate moment.  But, you also remember him telling you once that you were tenderhearted.  That the galaxy would never be as kind to you as you are to it.  This… comes out sounding like he’s trying to change that.

It comes out sounding like he’s trying to use his voice to hold you because he doesn’t think you want to be touched right now.  Like… like he’s doing everything he can to be as careful as possible here because you think he might be attempting to do something he’s never done before.  Apologize for saying something he didn’t mean.

“You don’t have to,” you quickly tell him.  He’s not good with words and apologies are difficult enough to phrase for normal people, you don’t want him to fret over it if that’s what this is.  “It’s okay, I know you’re not… you don’t have to.  It was stupid of me to ask.”

“It wasn’t,” he instantly counters, his voice finally seeming to find the floor when it was just hovering before.  Not loud—still gentle, still making sure the kid doesn’t wake up and you’re not frightened away, but a bit more grounded this time.  “It wasn’t… what I wanted to hear, and I didn’t take it well.  Not stupid.”

“It was stupid,” you return amicably, looking down at your feet.  “That’s not my… job, like you said.”

Din suddenly hangs his helmet down to his chest, pressing his gloves to the part that curves over his forehead and rubbing it.  “Shit.  I didn’t mean—”

“You were right,” you acknowledge, having spent the past few hours coming to the understanding that it’s the hard truth and he just phrased it poorly.  “I’m not… built for it, I’d only get in your way.  I barely just managed to shoot stationary targets with a blaster today, and that’s only with that aim corrector built into the barrel.  I’m here to be helpful, not—”

“What are you saying?”  He suddenly lifts the beskar to study you, sounding genuinely confused.  “What aim corrector?”

That… makes you pause.

“The, uh…”  Now you’re confused.  “The one that adjusts the plasma release on the gun you gave me.”

He doesn’t move an inch or say a single thing to you in response and you awkwardly shuffle your feet for a second, everything so quiet that you can hear every little snore that goes in and out of the kid’s tiny button nose.

You blink at him after way too long of that, not knowing why he still hasn’t said anything.  “There’s an electronic sight and like a bazillion extra magnets packed into the barrel, Din, what else could—”

“Sweet girl, that’s… that’s for the Philithiorium,” Din breathes out, like he’s absolutely blown away by you right now.  “That gas is less stable than normal canisters, it takes more magnets to focus the white beam without overheating the metal.”

You stare at him, not truly processing.  He’s saying that… you made all those shots today without any help at all?  By yourself?

Your eyebrows furrow and you blink a few times, but then his slow, heavy sigh echoes throughout the metal walls with disappointment… and you don’t think it’s directed towards you.

“You’re just… always so unsure of yourself.”  He sounds genuinely distraught as his helmet tips down to look at the ground.  “I made that worse today.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you quickly shake your head, your chest already beginning to loosen slightly by just being around him, hearing his voice, seeing the metal glint under the fluorescent light overhead when he’s in such a vulnerable position on the floor.  “It’s okay, let’s just… pretend neither of us said anything at all, okay?”

“Is that what you really want?”  He asks you after a moment of quiet, and for some reason, you hear something in your mind tell you that his arms look so nice right now, don’t they?  You could fit right there, perfect and safe again.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you smile at him, feeling a bit of the ache trapped inside you continue to work itself out little by little.  You’ll be back to normal soon, it’s fine.

“No, I mean… do you really want to come with me?”  Din asks you, the words sounding cautious.  Confused, like he truly never expected the proposition from you at all.  “Or… do you just not want me to go?”

Oof, what a fucking question.

Why would he ask this?  It’s not pointed; it’s the softest, gentlest inquiry you’ve ever been posed.  Maybe in other circumstances, you’d say that him leaving doesn’t have anything to do with it, but… you’re certain that internally, it absolutely does have at least something to do with it and he was just able to know it before you did.  Which is probably why his sharp words seemed all the more cutting earlier.  It hurt because he said the truth first, verbalized a very deep insecurity you’ve been trying to hide from him and threw it right in your face when shutting you down.

Though, if it worked differently and you were the one who had to be away while he stayed here, you’d like to think you’d handle it way better than how it is now.  At least you’d have a real mission to focus on, new things to see and experiences to have.  You just feel… confined sometimes.

You take a deep breath and figure you’ll use sitting down as an excuse to think for a second.  There’s practically no room but you find it in the back of the cockpit near the doorframe anyways, doing your best to keep the kid level while you slowly lower yourself to the ground near him.  Not touching him, but close.

“I just… I lived my whole life stuck in one spot, wanting to see the galaxy,” you finally admit to him, staring at his chestplate but seeing the helmet tilt slightly in your peripheral.  “Sometimes it’s just… hard to see the galaxy and still be stuck in one spot, I guess.”

“…You want an adventure,” Din proposes quietly, and though there’s not a single hint of mockery in his voice, you suddenly feel like it’s really fucking dumb when he phrases it like that.  What are you, an eight year old?  Wanting to go on an adventure, see things you’ve never seen without any concept for real life?  Credits?  Time?  Resources?

You shrug a shoulder to make it seem like it’s no big deal.  Why is he even entertaining this right now?  “It’s stupid, I kn—”

“Like on Naboo,” he goes on, ignoring your harsh self-criticism, not allowing you the ability to even get it out once he heard the first couple words.  “Going through the forest, seeing that waterfall.  Someplace to find for yourself.  Explore.  Experience.”

You… you want it so badly that you think your eyes might tear up just hearing the words coming out of his mouth when he says them like that.  Like he… just inherently understands.  He knows.

He knows you.  He’s not good with words and yet he found the single most succinct way to put what you thought was a complex yearning without even trying.  You can’t even answer him, he hit the target dead on and you’re left with nothing to say that wouldn’t just be a miserable lie.

“Okay,” Din says after a moment, giving you a small nod.

You’re lost now.  “…Okay?”

“You’re never going on a hunt with me,” he tells you very seriously, no room for arguing.  “Ever.  And not because you can’t handle it, understand?”  He inhales, quickly adding on to his response before you’re able to analyze it the way you want to.  “But if you want an adventure, then… I can try and find a way to give you one.”

Stars.  He’s… too kind.  You somehow feel like it’s more than you deserve.  You were honestly hoping to just shadow him on a hunt, watch him work and stay well out of the way when he needs you to.  Helping if you think you’d be of any help; an extra set of eyes and hands.  You would’ve been fine even if he didn’t apologize for raising his voice at you, he doesn’t have to do this for you.

“Thank you,” you say for the third time today, feeling like each one has somehow multiplied in sincerity.

“It can’t be right now,” he quickly tells you, apologetic but earnest about it.  “I have to find the quarry, and I’m supposed to meet with Karga again in a week.”

You never did let him know about the other part of the deal you made with Karga, you admit.  Four pucks, no hassling, no hard time constraints.  That’s what you shook on, but you just never found a way to bring it up to Din.  Especially since you’ve been so preoccupied with hiding your growing disappointment from him whenever he has to go.

“If…” you pause, wondering the best way to phrase this.  Yikes, this is a toughie.  “Um.  If Karga… I don’t know, hypothetically, if Karga decided to loosen the time constraints back to the way they were before the Corellian bounty, would you… still need to meet with him again in a week?”

You don’t think he even bothers shuffling through all those words.  “Say what you mean.  Please.”

“That was part of the deal I struck with him,” you quickly explain.  “You can hunt on your own timetable again and he’ll keep giving you four pucks like before, no more or less after this one extra quarry.  It’s like a… replacement of sorts, for the one I kept you from getting the time before.  If credits aren’t an issue, you can take more than a week.  But only if you want to, you don’t have to.  It’s just there and you should know, that’s all.”

He takes his time responding, lifting his helmet just the slightest bit in… surprise?  Maybe?

“You never told me you did that,” Din finally murmurs.

“Ah.  Well.”  You look down at the sleeping kid in your arms.  “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to… keep you here.”

It genuinely is a struggle for you, and you think he’s just now realizing that.  As much as you know he gets frustrated with you for always wanting him to be here when he physically can’t be, you think it’s only now that he’s truly realizing the lengths you go to in order to stomp that part of you down whenever you feel it threatening to come up.  You allowed him to leave every single time without telling him he could stay, knowing that all that was left for you was babysitting and target practice for days on end.

“Will you come over here?”  Din finally asks, and the tone of his voice just punches you in the chest.  So soft, so distressed from having you so close yet so far from him and just… full of a quiet hope, like he’s fully expecting you to say no.

“Will we fit?”  You whisper after a moment, even quieter.

He doesn’t answer, he just reaches for you.  You do your best to scoot over to him without waking the kid, and then Din pulls you the rest of the way once he has a grip.  You go right into his arms, laying sideways across his lap and supported by his steel embrace.

Oh, it’s not comfortable but you’ve also never been more fucking comfortable.  One of his knees lifts and allows you to rest your back against it without worrying about falling over sideways and down the ladder to the hull, thank the Maker.  The beskar pauldron over his shoulder digs into your cheek, but Din immediately pushes an arm up to nudge his helmet off and make it better for both of you.  Your face automatically fits into the crook of his neck while he sets the beskar on the bend of his knee, and then he silently cradles you while you do the same to his little boy… who does the same to his favorite metal ball.

“Ni tar’tayl su,” he murmurs into your hair, the one phrase in Mando’a you do recognize, especially with how beautiful and elegant it sounds rolling off his tongue.  “Forgive me.  Ni ceta.”

You sigh your contentment and melt into him, well aware that you’d still be more comfortable in bed.  But when you’re pressed hard against his chest like this and the baby is fast asleep in your arms, you get to feel both of them breathing.  Din’s right lung is probably bigger than the kid’s whole entire body, but you like the radically different cycles they go through.  You think you count six full breaths coming from the brown sack in your palms for every one of Din’s and two of yours.  It creates the most beautiful little symphony that sometimes gets a little off track, but always finds its way back around again.

“How do you say…”  You ask, feeling his hand slowly move down the curve of your spine, mindless and hypnotic.  It catches the edge of your shirt and goes underneath, and even though it’s not his bare hand and there’s no skin to skin, it still feels so good.  Not sexual or sensual even, just… a comfort to you.  “In Mando’a, how do you say… out of a trillion?”

Din’s breaths pause for just a second, his portion of the synchronized rhythm faltering.  Soon it starts back up, and his head turns to press his lips against your hair.

“I don’t think there’s a word for it,” he admits, gently brushing a thumb across the baby’s forehead while he snoozes.  “There could be, but I don’t know it.  I’d use… out of a million million millions.  Dayn alanyc bal alanyc bal alanyci.”

Your eyes begin to drift closed, exhausted from keeping them open after shedding a few tears earlier.  Your first fight and you’re already completely in love with him again after a handful of hours of sulking and one conversation.  How is that possible?  You’re normally a very forgiving person and it wouldn’t have taken much to make you feel better, you just never expected him to… actually want it from you that badly, care enough about it to get on the floor and ask.

Din doesn’t move the entire night through.  You assumed he’d make everyone get up at some point and move to the hull, but he doesn’t.  You fall asleep against his chest, comforted by the silence once again.

***

The next morning, Din quietly climbs into the cockpit while you’re humming in the shower.  You’re too busy basking in the indoor rainfall to feel the ship pull out of hyperspace, and then jump back into it a few moments after.

***

“How long do you think you’ll be this time?”  You ask two days later, sitting on the extended flattop of Din’s old cot and swinging your legs back and forth.  The baby is currently sitting on your lap and trying to roll the metal ball down your knee so you’ll kick it in the air, you think, because he keeps dropping it at different moments and forcing you to stop moving your legs to prevent accidentally denting a wall.  Every time the ball clatters to the floor, he makes a sad sound and it immediately lifts back up into his tiny hands for another try.

Heavy boots clang against the metal floor as Din drops down from the ladder, having just landed the Crest on the surface of whatever planet you’re on.  “I’m not leaving yet.”

“Oh…”  You blink, surprised.  “Okay.”

“I wanted to do some more training with you first, if that’s okay.  You can say no if you want, but maybe not,” Din drawls, striding over to the armory and opening it.  He carefully removes your blaster from the front shelf, speaking with his back to you.  “You’re going to run.”

“Um.”  You take a moment to glance around the enclosed hull, before turning to look back at him with your eyebrows raised.  “What, like… in place?”

Din sighs and closes the armory before leaning back against the doors, rubbing the face of the helmet in exasperation.  “From me, sweet girl.”

Your legs stop swinging, and the baby grumbles and slaps three fingers against your knee.  “What?”

“We’re on Sanctuary II,” he explains, turning to grab his black bag from one of the storage shelves.  He unzips it and reaches back into one of the larger pockets on his utility belt, before grabbing a handful of credits and stuffing them inside.  “It’s a moon, the New Republic occupied it years ago and made it a safe world for refugees and orphans of the Empire.  You’ll have your blaster, some credits, a communicator, and a day head start.  You’re going to run from me.  Show me how much you’ve learned.”

Is… he for real?

Right now?  You don’t even know how to respond, you’re too surprised.  Even when Din approaches and carefully trades the kid for your blaster, setting the bag down next to you on the metal bed, you still haven’t answered him.

“If you want?”  He asks after a moment, and you quickly jerk your head into a nod and jump off the raised platform, almost knocking into him with your sudden excitement.

“Okay!  Fuck yeah,” you grin, but Din shakes his head.

“Rules,” he says seriously, and you quickly do your best to frown, trying to compose your thrilled expression to match his tone.  “One.  This is a safe world, but things can always happen.  You have a blaster now, but it’s for emergencies only.  Do not shoot me with it.  Do you understand?”  You nod, but Din reaches forward to grab your elbow.  “Out loud, please.  For me.”

“I will not shoot you with this blaster,” you vow obediently, carefully cradling the precious firearm in your hands.

“Do not shoot me,” he repeats while pointing a leather finger at you.  “Do not… shoot at me.  Near me.  Around me.  No, just—don’t shoot.  Unless I am… very far away.  Okay?”

Well, he didn’t have to phrase it like that.  You frown, but acquiesce regardless.  “I will only resort to blastering if it’s an emergency and you are not around.”

He nods a thank you for putting it into better words.  “Second rule.  Since you don’t have a ship, I won’t either.  We’re on foot.  I don’t doubt you can hotwire a piece of junk to do what you need it to do, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t.  Good?”

Entirely accurate and entirely fair.  “Good.”

“Three,” he says.  “I’ll have the kid with me, which is both good and bad news for you.  Good news is he’ll slow me down, bad news is I can’t promise he won’t also try to intervene at some point if you’re serious about putting up a decent fight.  What I can promise is that I won’t encourage it.”

“Reassuring,” you nod.  “Also not really a rule.  Please continue.”

“Four.”  He pauses for a second.  “I think I’m wanted by the New Republic.”

You nearly jerk back.  “What?”

“I can’t confirm it and I’m not proud of it,” Din quickly tells you, probably the vaguest possible explanation he could provide.  “I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.”

Is he fucking serious?  “I don’t want you to be arrested, Din, I—”

“I won’t be,” he assures you.  “They owe me one, I just don’t want to cash in yet.  Trust me.”

You… do.  Insanely, and against every logical thought flittering through your head, you do.  If you were ever going to bet money that someone would be able to navigate a safe world on foot without being caught by the numerous officers scattered across the surface, then you’d put all your credits on Din Djarin.  It… also shouldn’t really surprise you at all that the people seeking his incarceration also owe him a favor, should it?  It actually sounds right on par for him.  “Okay.”

“Fifth, and this one is important, so listen up,” he continues gruffly.  “You check in with me tonight over the e-comm, alright?  I don’t care where you are or how safe this planet is, if you don’t check in, I’ll come find you before the sun rises.  Say you understand me.”

“I understand you,” you tell him, your heart beginning to pound in your chest at the reality of this actually happening.  “I’ll check in tonight.”

“And if,” he goes on, “by some miracle, you manage to make it more than a full day, you check in with me tomorrow night, too.  Say it.”

“I will check in with you every single night for the full five days it’ll take you to find me,” you assert, the adrenaline starting to make you brash and giddy.  

Din tilts his helmet at you sternly.  It is a very, very stern tilt.  “Okay.  New plan, forget everything I just said.”

Your expression furrows.  “What’s the new plan?”

“That is the new plan,” he says, dead serious.  “Us.  Not doing this.”

“Oh, come on,” you grin cheekily up at him, poking his chestplate.  “I’m just giving you some motivation to find me quicker, that’s all.”

Din stares down at you, and… yeesh.  Tough crowd.

“Tell you what,” he finally grunts, sounding incredibly unamused with your jesting.  “If you can last that long with only a day head start, I’ll let you come with me to collect the fifth quarry.  You can even cuff the bastard yourself.”

You know it’s just because he’s rightly confident in his own deadly skill, but hearing him propose the possibility still shoots a thrill down your spine.  “Oh ho, you are gonna regret saying that, shiny,” you beam up at him, starting to hop back and forth on each foot with excitement.

“But if I’m able to find you, you can’t ask me ever again,” he finishes shortly, and you immediately go still in front of him.

“What?”

“If I’m able to find you in five days, I don’t want to hear about you coming with me on a hunt and you can’t ever ask me not to go on one,” Din tells you, his voice rough and gravelly through the modulator.  Not mean or harsh, but firm.  “From now on, it’ll be off-limits.”

You… take a moment, not knowing if you should feel scolded or not.  When you don’t immediately say anything in response, he sighs and turns the helmet away from you.

“Leaving is hard enough as it is,” he mutters, looking at the ground.  “Hearing you ask… makes it impossible.”

You slowly lower your gaze to the floor as well, feeling your heart constrict tight in your chest.  There’s a real pull under his voice, telling you that information even though it sounds like he doesn’t really want to admit it out loud.  It… really is a struggle for him too, then.  You understand.

“Okay,” you nod.  There’s not a single part of you that actually thinks you’ll be able to stay hidden from him for five days while stuck on foot, so this is essentially a given.  You’re not thrilled about the idea, but you’re going to do your best to respect it nonetheless, especially if he cares enough to put off hunting and allow you this experience for yourself.  It’s a better compromise than you ever imagined, and you’ll do everything you can to hold up your side of the bargain.

Din clears his throat and straightens his spine, turning the visor until it faces you head on once more.  “Final rule.  I reserve the right to break any rule we just agreed to, or any fucking rule in this galaxy to keep you safe.  Good?”

Your cheeks flush with heat, your stomach suddenly filling with butterflies.  He doesn’t do that.  Din says what he says or he doesn’t say anything at all, there’s no… taking things back, he’s already breaking his own code.

“What happened to The Way says no take-backs?”  You ask quietly.

“This is my way,” he answers you.  Quick, not even taking a moment to think about it, before pulling out a fancy looking wristwatch thing and clipping it on you himself.  “This is your communicator.  It takes more power than the one you have now but it’ll reach a further distance.  I have one just like it, they’re locked into the same frequency and timesynced together, and the batteries need to be charged every three days.  If you make it that long, I’ll remind you.”  Din grabs the bag while you slide your arm into it, helping you hook it around your shoulder with one hand while he cradles the kid in his other.  Your heart is pounding now, pumping with adrenaline as he pulls you towards the middle of the hull and then wraps an arm around you.

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling you tight to him and pressing the helmet to the crown of your head.  His voice is barely a whisper through the modulator.  “Gar darasuum.”  For an eternity.

You find some way to wrap your arms around him, even with your blaster in your hand and the kid hanging out in his dad’s other arm.

“Dayn alanyc, bal alanyc, bal alanyci,” you murmur dutifully against the beskar chestplate, knowing your accent is probably butchering the words but hoping they still carry the same sentiment.

And then you’re squeeeeeezed hard enough to get a little air out of you, before you’re let go and he turns around, pressing a button on his vambrace so the ramp begins to lower.

It’s bright outside but not too bright, and everything is warm and gentle and breezy, right in the middle of a lush plain.  You inhale the fresh air into your lungs, looking out across the wide open field, having no fucking clue this is where your day would be leading when you woke up this morning.  Oh Maker, it’s gorgeous here.  Not like Naboo, where every single thing is picturesque and fit for an e-card, but in a soft, understated kind of way.  The sky is a canvas of swirling pastel clouds, pale pinks and yellows and blues, and the communicator on your wrist lets you know that it’s just after noon here.

You take one single step down the ramp, before immediately stopping and turning around to bite your lip at him.

“How am I… how am I supposed to outrun you?”  You ask, already clueless.  “You’re too good, better than me at everything.”

“That’s not true,” Din reminds you sternly, grabbing your hand at your side.  “You already know who’s after you, that’s an advantage nobody else has ever had against me.  You know how I think.  I don’t know how, but sometimes it’s like you can…”  He slowly shakes his head.  “See me.  Through the metal.”

“But… but that works both ways,” you point out, breathless at hearing him say that but needing to focus right now.  “You know me, too—you’ll know exactly where I—”

He shakes his head again, but quickly this time.  “Remember what I told you a long time ago?  What your best weapon is?”

You… do not.  He told you so many things, and you’re assuming every single one of them is going to come into play during this endeavor if you want to outlast.  You’re going to have to think back and remember all of them individually, find the time to figure out your best plan of action based on the remarkably little you know about how he hunts.

“You’re smart, remember?”  Din murmurs, squeezing your fingers.  “Your mind works differently, it sees things in ways I’ll never be able to, not even with this helmet.  So…”  He shrugs a shoulder like it’s the simplest thing in the galaxy.  “Don’t try to outrun, okay?  Just try to outsmart.”

You give him a nod after a moment, still not really sure about it, before giving his hand one last squeeze in return and eventually letting go.  

Outsmart.  Outsmart him, use what you know about him to be the most elusive quarry he’s ever hunted down.

As you make your way down the ramp, you’re already thinking.  His helmet tracks footprints, that’s a thing you know.  You’ll have to find someone to trade shoes with, then—yours aren’t too beat up, maybe you can find a local who’d appreciate a better pair.  Are you going to a city?  Would there be one in walking distance?  The wilderness won’t work, you’ll be too exposed and it would make you an easy target for either him or wild animals.  The weather seems clear here though, and you don’t think you’ll need to worry about rain or snow, but if—

“Oh—but when you do see me,” Din decides to add when your feet finally touch the grass, and you pause once more to turn around and look at him.  He stays quiet for a second, studying you through the helmet for too long.  Like the anticipation is getting to him already.

You bite your lip back at him and adjust the bag on your shoulder, tummy swirling with nerves and excitement.  He tilts the visor up, gazing down at you from the hull with the kid tucked in his arms.

“Try to outrun,” he says gruffly, before turning back into the ship and letting the ramp slowly close behind him.

[nateezfics]

happy halloween!!!

♔ PAIRING — jongho x reader

♔ GENRE — smut, vampire au, vampire!jongho, dom!jongho, sub!reader

♔ WARNINGS — mentions of blood, blood drinking/blood play, mentions of weapons/sharp objects (knives), smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, biting, cutting, edging, begging, fingering, knife play/knife kink, bondage (chains), oral (f receiving), foul language/dirty talk, Jongho a freak y’all

♔ WORD COUNT — 3.0k

♔ SUMMARY — a blade at your throat should unsettle you, and so should the vampire that wields it, but your lust knows no bounds. you thrive off the sense of danger, intoxicating yourself off of his very presence.

♔ FIC PLAYLIST — sick thoughts by lewis blissett, pain by boy harsher

(cover made the ever wonderful and talented @aveateez )

“I’m going to break you. And you’re going to fucking love it.”

You couldn’t see him, only able to listen to his voice as it reverberated in the dark room. It tangled around your limbs, ensnaring you just like the chains that currently bound you to the large bed. The metal shackles clanked as you squirmed, and this futile attempt at moving must’ve amused him. 

“My dear, you’re completely at my mercy. You’re like a little rabbit entangled in the thicket, unable to get away from the fox that preys on it.”

Your eyes strained to find him in the dark. The only light in the room was the lit candles. They weren’t helpful outside of illuminating the bed you were laying on and casting the black darkness in an or orangey hue. You were splayed out, all four limbs chained, and completely naked. You couldn’t see him, but he could see you and that sent shivers up and down your spine.

You were like a meal served on a silver platter. It shouldn’t have aroused you, but oh, it did.

“Are you just going to stay in the shadows or are you actually going to come out and touch me?” You tried to put on an unbothered front, but there was a tremor in your voice, and you didn’t doubt that he picked up on it. 

“Where is the fun in just giving you what you want? I like to play. Don’t you?”

You squirmed again, restless and impatient. “I didn’t come here to play games.”

You heard steps and you sensed him come closer to you. “Then what did you come here for? It certainly wasn’t to kill me. At least, not just to kill me.”

Certainly, ending his life was one reason for your visit, considering you were a vampire hunter, but you’d be lying if you said it was the main reason for being here. You’d been stalking him for months now, learning his patterns, his routine. You couldn’t just go into a hunt blindly, not with vampires. Hunting them wasn’t like hunting animals. Vampires were like humans — self-aware, smart, cunning. And vampires like him took a while to stake out. 

Somewhere, you didn’t know exactly when, waiting on the perfect time to strike lead you into an infatuation with him. He was unlike any other monster you’d taken out. 

And now, you were here, so close to him but you were the one chained. 

“You hunters are an odd bunch,” you heard him say. “You’re so obviously in over your heads with us, yet you persist. Sure, you can take out some fledglings and a newly turned vampire or two, but the ones like me? You overstep your abilities.”

“We try because we are tired of being preyed on. We won’t be complacent, and we refuse to be sitting ducks for you to pick off one by one.” Indignation swelled in your chest at his haughty attitude. 

“That’s commendable, I assure you.” You heard more steps. “But naive. Besides, vampires could easily wipe out humanity completely, but without you we have no sustenance.”

He stepped from the shadows, revealing himself fully, eyes bright. “And without you, we have no one to play with.”

You sucked in a breath. He was regal, handsome, striking. You thought maybe that’s what lead to you being so intrigued by him. He was beautiful. Most vampires of his stature generally were, but him? His beauty stood out amongst the many. 

He stalked around the bed, eyes all over you, snaking along your skin and making you want to move, to flee from under his heavy gaze. The chains. They kept you right where he wanted you, and fuck, right where you wanted yourself to be. “I must say, dear. You look very delicious sprawled out like this. How are the chains? Too tight?”

He didn’t care about the chains, and you didn’t either. They were just an annoyance, the very things that kept you from getting a chance to lay a hand on him. “The chains are doing their job keeping me in place and keeping me right where you want me.”

Jongho smiled, deciding to overlook the bite to your voice. “Perfect,” he cooed. “Then you understand that you will be at my mercy and will take everything I give — or don’t give.”

Or don’t give. You could only imagine what that meant. You lifted your head to look him directly in his eyes. “Do your worst.  I’m not scared.”

A well-manicured brow rose at your gumption. He smirked, leaning down to tug on the chains. “We shall see.”

You weren’t expecting the rush of pleasure that filled you when he swooped down over the bed to lick a stripe up your folds. Your back arched, limbs pulling taught against the chains. You couldn’t conceal the moan that spilled out of your mouth, but you bit your lip to keep more from following it. 

“You won’t be able to hold back for long,” he warned you and you didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking, but you did anyway, skin prickling at the sight of his eyes staring back at you, face between your spread thighs. 

You were determined to prove him wrong. Your lip stayed between your teeth to keep all the noises at bay, and to not give him that satisfaction. But oh, the pleasure his tongue was giving you was great, toe curling, and overwhelming. You hadn’t expected it feel this good, and you didn’t expect to be hurtling towards your climax so quickly. 

“I can tell you’re already close, dear,” Jongho mused as he nipped at your bud. “Why don’t you let me hear those pretty sounds fully, hm?”

You clamped your mouth shut to ward off the pleas that wanted to erupt from your mouth. You were shaking from withholding, like your body needed to cry out to process the onslaught of stimulation. He nipped and sucked, tongue delving in your folds. You were becoming a mess already, body writhing under him. 

It was right there, right in your reach. You could practically taste your high, feeling the bliss began to coil in your belly —

Jongho removed himself from you, and the reaction was immediate. He laughed when you visibly deflated, relishing in the little whine that slipped. “Oh, you didn’t want to cum, did you, my dear?”

If your legs weren’t bound, you would’ve kicked him. You exhaled. “Fuck you.”

The vampire only chuckled, unbothered. “Language, my dear,” he admonished smugly. “If you want something, you must ask.”

You huffed and stared at the large canopy that hung over the bedframe. You looked him in the eyes a moment later as you said, “Don’t you mean beg?”

Jongho’s eyes flickered wickedly, but his face remained stoic save for a small, almost polite smile. “Ask, beg. They are both the same, just depends on how desperate you are.”

You shivered, limbs shaking just enough that he noticed. Your heart was erratic in your chest, and you were already beginning to grow restless from being held in place. “I won’t do neither, because I am not desperate.”

His expression was arrogant, challenging, like he already knew who the victor would be. You knew it, too, you were just trying to stall the inevitable. “Yet, you are not desperate yet. I assure you, you will beg for me sooner rather than later, my dear.”

The back and forth ended there because he dipped his head again, taking your clit back between his lips, tongue flicking out to add that sweet pressure. The chains rattled as you squirmed. This was already too much to handle. You were falling into his grasp rapidly, spiraling out of control and heading to your demise. Groans and curses bubbled from your throat and the closer you got to your release, the harder it became to withhold the sounds of bliss. The chains were pulled tight as you jerked and tugged, body barely able to bear his mouth on you any longer.

Jongho’s small laugh reverberated against you. You heard the amusement in his voice. “You have a strong will, I will praise you for that,” he admitted against you, tongue sliding up your seam. “But I know you will break soon.”

It was all too true. Release after release he denied you, always getting you to the edge before pulling you back. Each time it was like being doused with ice water, denial crashing into you and shaking you to your core. Your nerves and patience were frayed, and you were where he wanted you all along – your breaking point.

Jongho stood straight, towering over you like a lion over its fresh kill. You watched his every move like your life depended on it. Maybe it did, you weren’t sure, but you knew you were highly anticipated for what he was to dish out next. What you didn’t expect, however, was for him to pull out a dagger, its shiny steel glinting from the candlelight. You gasped.

“Why do you have my dagger?”

He shrugged. “I noticed it with your belongings,” he explained. “And thought maybe it would be fun to play with.” Jongho got onto the bed, motions smooth and elegant, and settled himself over your thighs, straddling you. He studied the dagger closely as if he was intrigued by it. “You really kill vampires with these?”

You felt unnerved at his fascination with it, but not in a negative way. You were on edge, but the danger of him wielding this weapon of yours made adrenaline pump in your veins. It was doubly lethal, him with the dagger, but you would’ve had to have been clueless to believe that the dagger was the more dangerous weapon. He was the weapon, and he was more lethal than any blade. “Yes.” You hated the softness to your voice.

“Must be lower-class vampires,” Jongho deducted, and you didn’t miss the insult made to you. “I wouldn’t fall victim to these little…trinkets.”

You huffed. “Even you have a weakness.”

Jongho shrugged. “I suppose, but you’d never figure it out.”

“That’s what you think,” you shot back at him. He chuckled.

“It’s what I know, dear.” Jongho’s gaze shifted into something sinister as he lowered the tip of the blade to press it between your breasts. You sucked in a breath at the cold steel. He was content to drag its blunt end down your sternum languidly for a bit, eyes flashing at your small, nervous breaths. He chuckled when something amusing seemingly crossed his mind. “How ironic this is. Here you are, a vampire hunter, at the mercy of a vampire that currently holds the blade meant to kill him, dragging it against your bared flesh.”

A mix of shame and exhilaration snaked through your body, twisting and coiling in the bit of your belly. Goosebumps erupted on your skin in the wake of the blade as he grazed it over you. You watched it as it traveled from your navel all the way to where the seam of your sex began. Your hole fluttered. “What –”

“My dear, I won’t put this blade inside you,” Jongho said in amusement. “Unless you want me to.”

You shook your head.

Jongho trailed the blade down your inner thighs, its blunt side still towards you. He rolled it over in his hand, blade slightly slicing your skin. You gasped at the sting just as a line of red formed on the cut. He did this repeatedly, switching between legs. He groaned at the sight of your crimson essence, and when the scent rose to meet his nose, a low growl rumbled in his chest. It wasn’t just your blood he sensed, and when he gazed at your cunt, he saw the way fresh arousal glistened along your folds. “My, my. How utterly amusing you are, my dear.”

You whimpered when his free hand went to your sex, fingers pressing into your dripping folds.

“Look at you, getting aroused by being at the end of this blade.” The evil amusement saturated every word, every syllable of his voice.

This wasn’t supposed to be this erotic, this arousing. Danger was very well right above you. You should have been scared, and to a degree you were, but your deranged lust clouded all your senses. Two of his fingers plunged into your drenched heat and your spine arched immediately. Your senses were still frayed from the countless rejections of a release, body shuddering as he fucked you with them. “Oh. My god.”

Jongho snickered. “He won’t save you now, not after how filthy you are, my dear.” The blade traveled back up your middle, occasionally pressing into you just enough to sprout little beads of blood. “Though, it is nice to hear your pretty cries.” He pumped his fingers inside you, filling you with ecstasy until you were on the edge again. He felt wicked victory swell in his chest when he saw the desperation on your face, your eyes pleading with him not to stop.

A plea threatened to slip off your tongue and you barely withheld it, but you feared he already knew how needy you were. Needy for release, needy for him.

You watched the blade as he brought to his lips. Your whole body shook with unhinged lust when his tongue darted out to lap at your blood on the dagger. Your cunt wept around his fingers at the sound of his crazed moan of pleasure.

Jongho’s eyes were the brightest you’d seen them, his senses coming to life at the taste of blood. “You taste delicious,” he praised. “I love that metallic taste, and that sweet aftertaste of your arousal on my tongue.” He licked the metal clean and brought it to your neck. “I could splice you open and feast, but I prefer the traditional way of getting blood from my prey. I like to sink my fangs into the flesh and hear all the pretty screams, it’s so much more satisfying that way.”

The blade pressed into your jugular, not enough to bring blood, but enough to make your pulse hammer under your skin. You were rigid, breath caught in your throat.

“Speaking of screams, I can give you what you want and let you cum if you beg for it, or I will antagonize you until you scream from delirium. Your choice.” His fingers were agonizingly slow, moving just enough to keep up the momentum, but not enough to let you unravel.

You groaned. “Please.”

“Oh?”

When his fingers didn’t change tempo even after your plea, you huffed. And you snapped. “Please, I want to cum. I need to feel release, or I will go insane. I don’t fucking care anymore. Please, please, please!”

Jongho smirked as he relished in your defeat. “Oh, there’s a good girl. See? It’s not so scary to tell me what it is you want. I will surely do as you ask.” But he didn’t let you cum again. His fingers left you, your hole feeling so empty, and you sobbed from another denied orgasm.

“Fuck you! You’re a liar!” You missed the way he unclasped his pants. You didn’t see him draw out his cock from its confines to stroke it. You weren’t aware until you felt him brushing against your entrance. You gasped.

Jongho pushed himself in roughly with a grunt. You thrashed in place against the chains at the overwhelming fullness of him inside you. He didn’t wait for you to accommodate, hips snaping into yours at bruising speed. “Would you care to take that statement back? Awfully rude to call people names.”

You had no choice but to take it all. He used your lack of mobility to his advantage, fucking into you with reckless abandon, cock battering your insides. There was no way you could conceal the cries. It was all too much to bear.

Jongho ran the blade along your lower abdomen, just over the bump that formed from his cock bulging within you as he thrusted in you. “You’re gorging yourself on me. Your tightness feels amazing, my dear.”

You were insane from the pleasure, from the rush of danger, from the inability to move. You were beyond the breaking point. “I’m not…I’m not going to last!” Fear that he would deny you again was at the forefront of your mind. You wouldn’t have been able to withstand that torture again. Not now.

The vampire smiled wickedly. “My dear, how beautiful you will look when you come undone around me.”

The pleasure was consuming. Your blood felt like it had turned to molten lava and all you could was scream as the bliss conquered every inch of you. You shook enough to make the chains rattle, limbs convulsing. It felt like eternity had passed before you began to calm down. You deflated into the mattress, spent both mentally and physically. You were almost numb to his thrusts inside you.

Jongho unraveled some time later, and you thought this would all be over then, but his face right above yours meant that he was far from done with you. He grinned, fangs on full display, and now that pleasure had passed, you truly understood the danger you were in. “Oh, poor thing. You thought I was finished? I haven’t even gotten to the main event yet.”

All you knew in the next moments was the sharp pain of his fangs, the feeling of your blood leaving you, and the sounds of his feasting.

And your screams.

You heard the chains rattle before everything went black.

A/N: Happy Spooky Day! Well...what’s left of it. There’s only an hour left and I’m sure for a lot of you Halloween has passed. I really cut it close with this ghfdgfgh. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. We are seriously lacking some solid and nasty and wonderful Jongho fics okay. It’s a crying shame :’( 

And for the Mingi fic...I’m still working on it :’) I will try to get it up tomorrow!

Tag list: @couchpotatoaniki @kisaraginami @shingisimp @ainaatiny @hongshines @ruwaidahmulla @dani41 @pinkbbygirl @yunsangoveryonder  @jeongyunhoed​ 

[youryanderedaddy]

I had a dream just now that might make a good story. So, I had a virus on my laptop which allowed a hacker to see everything I did on my computer and use my webcam. The hacker ends up falling in love with me after stalking me for a few months and pays for someone on the dark web to kidnap me. It works, and then I wake up tied up in the hacker's arm as he caresses and kisses me. That's pretty much it, good night! 🌙

Yo this is my kink 😳

Also I couldn't not write this for Saeran, ok.

Title: Stranger danger

Tw: nsfw - ish, female reader, masturbation, cyber stalking, hacking, mentions of dark web, very irresponsible online behavior, obsessive behavior, implied kidnapping

You knew that this was a stupid idea. Lurking on the dark web with almost no protection other than the Tor browser and some free anti-virus program wasn't your best decision, but fuck it if it wasn't entertaining. You had always been drawn to the darker, scarier part of the human mind and this side of the internet proved quite interesting. Your friends always warned you about the dangers that came with looking up shady online searches and sites but everything had been quite peaceful so far. There weren't hackers or murderers on the dark web, the worst you had seen were people selling drugs and weapons for unreasonable prices, along with some questionable fetish porn and the typical popping ads.

Your favorite thing to do while online was chatting. Two weeks ago you had stumbled upon an unusual forum called "Scream buddies" where upon entering you were automatically connected to another random profile. The whole theme of the forum was discussing horror and mondo movies, shockumentaries and overall creepy stuff, your forte. The person you met on there shared a similar fascination with all things dark and gory which soon made talking to them the only thing you were looking forward upon opening the site.

You didn't know much about the guy behind the profile yet, except that he was a young man. His icon showed an eye so green it emited with the neon pigment and his username was just as mysterious - BlueRose7. You enjoyed chatting with him about your hobby but the thing you liked the most was undressing him little by little, metaphorically so, by getting pieces of information about his life. It started small - his favorite food, favorite book, favorite game, but the moment you tried digging deeper and asked whether he had siblings or not, the man simply disappeared for the next few days. You quickly realized just what type of topics you needed to avoid to keep your new friend from leaving. Family, childhood memories and work matters were out of the picture.

The stranger wasn't fair, not really. He didn't show you vulnerability and kept his secrecy while demanding to know everything there was to know about you. For the longest time you didn't want to answer just to stay on a equal footing, just to show him how frustrating it was, but there was something about the man that drew you in. He was magnetic, clever and witty, if a bit pessimistic and dark at times. You couldn't help telling him everything he wanted to hear - what your job was, whether you were single or not, all that jazz. In your defense, BlueRose7 actually listened to your stories, took your problems seriously and provided solutions, which despite being too extreme and overprotective at times (upon hearing that your bestfriend talked behind your back he offered to "take care" of her), were comforting. It was nice to have someone caring around even if you met him on a sketchy website.

Meanwhile your personal life wasn't going too great. You had to balance between attending college, working long shifts as a waitress and meeting your friends from time to time which was draining. On top of all there was a weird virus on your computer which resulted in the camera turning on and off and the most random times of the day - while you were studying, watching TV, or in some cases, fully naked and ready to take a bath. You didn't think much of it though, with all the illegal movies and games you downloaded along with the dark web lurking it was more than expected for your laptop to behave weirdly. You didn't even mention it to your friend from the IT major because you knew that he'd force you to delete Tor and put an end to your internet adventures.

One time you were particularly bored after several long lectures and you were laying in bed, the camera turned on once again. It was a hot afternoon and you were wearing boyshorts and a loose T- shirt with nothing underneath it, you were home alone so there was no need. The bright red spot was twinking like a recorder, the light reflecting in your eyes, when a silly little idea came to your mind. You slid your hand under your blouse and lifted the fabric up, exposing your breasts to the laptop, your nipples hardening due to the sudden coldness, becoming pink and stiff in seconds. You played with for a few minutes, pinching and pulling the buds gently, moaning softly into the pleasant sensation. Soon you could feel yourself getting wet, and slowly, teasingly, removed your shorts and panties. You smiled at the camera, biting your lip provocatively, imagining you were a camgirl performing for her desperate little fanboys and fangirls. The thought alone was enough to make you spread your legs wide and slip two fingers into your throbbing cunt, using the wetness to push deeper. You used your other hand to stroke your clit and whimpered wantonly, your face red, your neck sweaty and your heart pumping fast from the adrenaline. You were quickly reaching your orgasm and your mind wondered to the boy you were talking to in the forum. You wondered how he looked like, how his body was built, whether he was a sweet sensual lover or a rough mean one. Fucked up as it was, you pictured the man as one of your most loyal viewers, watching all of your streams with a fist around his thick vock and an excited grin on his face. He would comment things like "you look so beautiful like this" or perhaps even "pretty little slut" after tipping you enough to last you a week. Soon all the mental stimulation sent you over the edge and you came with a loud cry full of pleasure. Well, this felt good.

After your "performance" was over the camera was magically turned off, which may have caused some concerns if you weren't too busy feeling embarrassed and dirty about the unhinged fantasy you had just had, and with a person you knew nothing about. You managed to calm down though - it wasn't nothing more than a fun pastime, a naughty thought that would never become the reality. You would never actually meet BlueRose7, right? There was nothing to worry about, so you just went on with your day.

You had some dinner afterwards and decided to have an early night as you already felt full and tired. You put on your favoruite pajamas and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling until you fell into deep dreamless sleep.

You woke up due to a weird noise. You could hear someone's heavy breathing right next to your ear, someone's grabby hands were wrapped tightly against your body, trapping you between the wall and their hard chest. You had only a few seconds to scream before the intruder's palm covered your mouth.

"Shhh." The man whispered softly and stroked your hair like you were a doll he was playing with. "Don't scream or I'll be forced to hurt you, flower. I have a gun." His voice sounded deep and rough but this didn't stop you from thrashing and turning on your side until you came face to face with the man. It was dark in the room and you couldn't exactly see all his features but his enchanting green eyes would forever be burned into your memory - they seemed dashing, hypnotizing. You couldn't utter a word.

"It's me, the person you've been talking to all these months. I came to take you home" He spoke out suddenly, the line of his mouth twisting into a smile or a smirk, you couldn't quite tell. You shook your head no, tears threatening to spill all over your cheeks from the fear. It couldn't be him, the man would never do that to you. Or would he? With what little information you knew, you couldn't really tell. His hold finally loosen, seeing you quiet like that.

"Let me go, please." You begged, pushing at his shoulders weakly since you were still sleepy, groggy and tired. "I don't know you." You said, hoping this would remind the stranger you weren't friends, lovers or anything that gave him the right to be so close to you, to touch you so intimately. Unfortunately, this only seemed to amuse him and he chucked darkly as he pulled your hair away to place a small chaste kiss on your neck.

"But I know you, flower." Your supposed online friend replied shortly after, his eyes full of malice. "And your little show today makes me think you want to know me too." He added in a low tone, licking his lips before smashing them on yours, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth just to hear your whines and protests. Then it hit you. The camera, the virus, the questions. He had watched you, he knew where you worked, where you lived and studied, everything. You had told him after all.

The hacker thought you looked so adorable right now, figuring things out, helpless, confused, regretful and most of all, weak. You were so weak and careless, and he loved you for it. It reminded him of himself before life screwed him over.

You wouldn't be in this position, underneath him, if you had just told someone about your laptop virus and the bad guy you had encountered online. But Saeran couldn't say he wasn't glad your self-preservation instincts were so very broken and dysfunctional. He wouldn't meet you otherwise. "I need you, princess. That's why I'll take you to Paradise." These were the final words you heard before you felt lightheaded and sleepy again, your last memory a pair of green mint eyes.

You really shouldn't have trusted strangers on the internet.