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shelbgrey · 3 months

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✨POOKIE✨ can you conjure up a fic of the very lovely very handsome very shrexy lip biting man also known as Killian Jones? Get that steamy boat time in his bedroom on the Rolly Joger. He’s a pirate so…😳🫣give that man some rope cause he knows how to tie a knot alright😏 also get that bed tapping. He got accent…a hot as hell accent, get it all deep and raspy then you can sign me the hell up. Man can hook me in numerous ways, I’d thank him🫢😳😏

Smut fic with Killan Jones

Paring: Killian Jones x reader

Summary: Smut with captian hook

Warrings: SMUT, gn!reader, bondage, Dirty talk?, desk sex, unprotected sex, rough-ish sex?, getting it from behind.

MasterList

“what should we do with them Capitan?” a crew member grunted as the 'trespasser' wiggled and struggled in the grasp of the pirate's grasp. Y/n fought, kicking and clawing at the dirty man, and no matter how much it hurt the man he didn't let go.

“take our prisoner to my chambers, then I'll decide what I should do with them” Killian commanded.

The pirate nodded and dragged y/n down to the lower part of the jolly Roger, he tossed y/n into Killian's private part of the ship and grabed some rope. Before they could get to far the pirate forced y/n's arms behind their back and tied their wrist together. Y/n snatched their arms out of his grasp and tired to make a run for it. The pirate just snarled and pushed them back it on the room, locking it so they couldn't escape. Moments later the sounds of boots aproching the room filled their ears. Y/n perked up and tired to think of an escape plane quickly, before the plan could be formed the door flew open revealing a tall handsom pirate with blue eyes and black hair. Y/n looked down at this left hand, It was a hook. They now knew who's ship they were on.

He had a wicked grin as he walked towards y/n. His muscular form, encased in leather armor. He had a look of power in his eyes. “I usually don’t allow trespassers to live, but you’re quite beautiful”

Y/n's had nothing but fire in their eyes, staring at the pirate. They showed no fear. “Whatever you're gonna do, might as well do it… On Second thought why don't you just kill me and get it over with”

Killian leans in, whispering menacingly against their neck sending shivers down their spine. “I can think of a few ways you can convince me to let you live”

Y/n stepped back, standing their ground. The pirate's gaze was intimidating, but they didn't let it show how much it affected them. Y/n stepped back till their body hit a table with a large map on it. Y/n's hands had been tied behind their back from when the crew abducted them, y/n had barely kept their balance when she was bound then thrown in the small room.

Killian chuckled darkly when he saw the daring look in y/n's eyes. Y/n stood their ground watching his every move. Killian moved closer, leaving very little room between them. He had a devilish grin as he stared down at his prisoner. He reached out and ran the side of his hook down y/n’s cheek, tracing the line of their jaw. The metal was cold and intimidating “you've got fire…”

Y/n's heart pounded when the hook that replaced his hand ran cold down their cheek. Y/n had heard too many stories about that hook. They leaned back further against the table, keeping their eyes stony, staring into his eyes. “if your looking for gold I don't have it, I have nothing to offer you”

Killian let out a dark chuckle at y/n's comment, he stepped closer still so that his body was pressed against theirs. His free hand slid around their waist, his rings felt cold against their skin. He pulled y/n's body flush against him. I think we can come to an arrangement…”

“And what is that?” y/n asked, not amused.

Y/n shivered as his hook trailed up their thigh, the metal was cold against the hot skin of their inner thigh. “What do you want, Capitan?”

“I think you know what I want…” Killian chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against their neck, nipping at y/n’s skin, leaving marks. Their cheeks became crimson and their heart raced when his lips and the scruff of his beard brushed against the sensitive skin.

Y/n bit their lip, trying not to show the effect the pirate had on them, Killian grinned at the resistance they had. his eyes were darkening with desire when he stared at them. He ran his free hand through y/n's hair, pulling their head back slightly to expose their neck further. “It seems like you're already starting to fall under my spell…”

“You wish…” Y/n argued back, lying to both him and themself. Their heart was pounding and if their hands weren't still tied, y/n knew deep down they'd be grabbing for any part of him or that leather coat they could reach.

Killian chuckled darkly, leaning in to place a soft kiss on y/n’s neck. He pressed the curved end of his hook against the middle of their collarbone and slowly trailed it down their chest then slipped between their legs. Y/n's breath hitched as he rubbed slow circles against their clothed sex through the thin fabric of their pants. “if you want me to stop I will, you have my word… If not there's no turning back”

y/n shuttered and quickly nodded, their mind working over time and was too cought up in the moment to form a proper awnser. Killian's grin widened as he saw the submission in y/n’s eyes. He leaned in, his lips claiming their's in a fierce kiss that left them breathless. Y/n lost balance momentarily, but the desk that was behind them didn't let the fall happen.

Killian pulled away from their lips, whispering as he stared into their eyes. his hand slipping under their shirt to rub against their bare skin, the cold rings that were wrapped around his fingers made y/n shiver. “turn around, bend over the desk.” He nipped at their bottom lip, demanding there obedience.

y/n didn't understand why they responded so quickly. They leaned forward and pressed a quick soft kiss against his lips before submitting to his command and bending over his desk, her ass and tied wrists now pointing towrds him.

Killian smirked as he watched y/n bend over his desk, their ass on display for him. He walked around to stand behind them, his hard cock pressing against their as through his pants. He Hooked his hook on the part of the rope between y/n's wrists, securing them between the desk and his body. y/n got inpacent and pressed their ass against his hardened erection.

Killian growled, his hands moving to grip y/n's hips roughly. He lifted them up slightly, pushing their legs apart with his own. His other hand came down, slapping against her ass hard enough to sting. “don't move”

A shiver ran down y/n's spine as Killian forced their pants down their thighs. Killian groaned, moving his hand to wrap it around his hard erection. He went slow just to tease as he guiding it towards y/n's wet entrance. Y/n's moans encouraged his fast, rough movements as he thrust forward, pushing into y/n's ass with a groan of satisfaction. “Bloddy hell, your perfect”

His thrusts became more forceful, punctuated by harsh grunts of pleasure. He leaned his arm next to y/n, his free hand gripping the desk tightly for balance. “I'm going to make you scream my name, Love”

y/n pressed their forehead against the wooden table as Killian thrusted roughly, stretching them out. “Killian…” they moaned.

Killian groaned at the noises they made as he continued to fuck y/n from behind. fingers gripped their hip tightly as he pushed forward. His breath was ragged against their neck as his hips pistoned back and forth, driving into y/n with force. Y/n's skin felt like it was on fire and they could no longer control the noises that fell from their lips.

"Hell... You like this, don't you?" His voice was raspy and full of lust. He looped his Hook on the rope that binded y/n's wrists and tugged them up. Their back was pressed against his chest and he captured their mouth in a searing hot kiss. He forced y/n against the desk again, but didn't bend them down like last time just continued to pound into them.

“fuck, feels so good” y/n moaned.

“That's it, moan for me…” Killian's words were lost in a string of curses and moans as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. His thrusts became more erratic, each one hitting y/n's sweet spot perfectly.

“killian!” y/n's moans became higher and more desperate, their heart was pounding and they felt themselves about ready to fall over the edge as the knot in their stomach got tighter. “Damn, I'm close”

Killian panted heavily as he thrust into y/n one final time, his entire body shaking with the force of his orgasm. He held onto y/n tightly, feeling his release pulse through him as he growled out his satisfaction. “Fuck... Fucking perfect…”

feeling Killian's release within them, y/n cried out in pleasure as they came as well, their head fell back in pleasure against killian's shoulder as their whole body shaked with the force of it. As they leaned back against him, their chest heaving up and down as they caught their breath “your so perfect, Love”

Killian gently pulled out of y/n, his cock slippery with their combined fluids. He turned them around, pulling them into a warm embrace. His fingers traced gentle patterns on y/n's back as he kissed their forehead. “I've got you” he whispered as he reached behind them and untied their wrists.

“here, let's get you somewhere more comfortable” he murmured, kissing y/n's forehead again before carrying them over to the small leather couch that was in his room. He laid them down gently, his eyes never leaving their face as he brushed some hair out of her face. His fingers tracing gentle patterns on their cheek before pulling the covers up around them, letting them rest. “your no longer a trespasser… if you decide to stay a bored my ship you can guarantee protection from me and the crew”

Y/n smiled softly, their eyes getting heavy. “I'd like that..”

#Killian Jones #Killian Jones x reader #Killian Jones smut #Killian x reader smut #Once upon a time #Captain Hook #Once upon a time smut #colin o'donoghue

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captainhattersvoyagerstuff · 8 months

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Caretaker Part 1

Okay, so I just finished Caretaker, the 2 part season premiere of Voyager. It's been a while, so there's stuff I forgot was there. Some of it was good. Some of it was, omg. But let's see if I can post my review, which is a series of notes I made while watching. I hope for more discussion later.

That thingy you're running into means you're screwed, Chakotay

Star Wars Crawl

Okay we start out with words on a screen. There’s this group of federation citizens called the Maquis who didn’t agree with Starfleet’s moronic treaty that are fighting the Cardassians and some say they are heroes and the Federation says they are outlaws. Yay I saw the Maquis on Ds9! I can’t wait to see more of them. (cough)

Scene 1: Maqui Ship. Chakotay and Maquis crew trying to outrun Cardassians. Yay! Chakotay is a really assertive leader here. I’m excited. We have a coherent tetryan beam. I hate those incoherent ones.

Wave hits them and light and we have Voyager credits. Good theme song. Love the orchestra.

Scene 2: Federation penal colony. In New Zealand?

That's right, bitches, I'm here.

Janeway shows up at the penal colony to find Tom Paris who could maybe find the Maquis cause he served with them before they kicked him out just like Starfleet did.

I'm really tough. I don't have Daddy issues.

She tells Tom he is an observer and he whines about being a good pilot. Except for the pilot error that got three people killed, oh nevermind. Just wait five minutes, Tom.

Scene 3 Tom is annoying on the shuttle to Voyager

Okay I have a question. Tom is wearing a Starfleet uniform. Why do observers still wear a uniform? Don’t you need to earn that?

Also: Pretty Betazoid Ensign Stadi (don't get used to her) informs Tom that Voyager has bio-nueral gel packs. They are so much more efficient. Unless there is cheese on board.

Scene 4 Harry is nearly conned for first time on space station ds9. Harry's theory: get con artists off your back by buying everything. Tom saves him cause he's as big of a con as Quark.

Oh, hey, is that Quark from Ds9 that other show you should watch?

Scene 5 Tom and Harry meet the Doctor

The Doc is super bitchy to them. I met he's gonna make stuff hard for Tom.

Scene 6 Janeway talks to fiancee

His name is Mark Johnson. Really. Unknown Truth: Tuvok's real last name is Smith. Anyway, the show has a few minutes to tell us who Mark is and why Janeway loves him. So they talk about her dog.

Nice knowin' ya, Mark

Janeway's dog is named Molly. She is expecting puppies. She likes her doggy bed. I am officially more invested in her dog now.

Scene 7 Junior High mess hall

Doctor and First Officer Cavitt, two of the most nondescript white guys ever (doctor isn't even named), gossip with Harry about what Tom did cause it's junior high and oh no these guys don't like Tom what will he do?

Scene 8 Wonder why it's called the Badlands

Plasma storms, more coherent beams, stuff is fine. What could go wrong? What's that bright light?

Scene 9 Voyager go boom

This is going to take FOREVER to fix!

Ship is transported 75,000 light years to the Delta Quadrant and they hit the breaks kinda hard. The ship is all messed up. So is Janeway's hair.

Where is my HAIRSPRAY?

A couple of shots later:

Seriously? It's hair magic!

Turns out that all command officers (including that pesky doctor and first officer) except Janeway and the entire medical staff are dead. What kind of bad karma does Janeway have? They get scanned and beamed off the ship.

Gonna stop here for a break so it's not so long. Stay tuned next time for Farmville and the evil corn on the cob lady.

#janeway x chakotay #kathryn janeway #star trek voyager #chakotay #j/c #star trek #Caretaker episode #review #You want to leave comments #Tom Paris #Maquis #Delta Quadrant #Janeway's hair

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beyondlife-m · 6 months

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(1) Trenchfall

“Stop playing video games... its have been months.” She said. That’s how our space trip started.

“what? but What did I do?” I said. We were already out in the space in our ship for so called Siroham galaxy, planed no. siromi-10.

“its have been months and you are not doing any other thing then playing games and watching movies. (she was really angry at this point. And after a pause) and why are playing video games. you are 28 now” she said hitting the auto pilot button.

“Well no buddy said 28 age guys can’t play video games” I said still playing video game.

“I am sick of it now. (she grabbed game player from my hand) video game is not the point” she said.

“hey… please give it back. I was almost there” I said. Trying to get it back. But nothing worked.

“ok ok. What I suppose to do then. You never allow me to touch things around here” I argued back.

“it’s not like that. (after a breath) you have stopped doing other things. Because of games and movies”, she dispersedly said.

“Things like what?” I said. Question mark was clear on forehead.

“Thing like trying to cook something new and helping me around the house and in research work.” She said, I keep looking at her. “you feel so changed” ya it has so long we sat and talked.

“Ya… But I thought. I have been a trouble to you” I said.

“ya.. but it’s not like that” she said holding her head.

“Oh… it means you miss me fooling around you” I said with a big smile almost laughing.

“no. it’s not like that” she said almost smiled.

“o just says it honey. I am dying to hear it” I thought she will admit it for a while. But it was really hard to convince her as usual.

She didn’t say anything and keep looking at the front glass. I asked her at list we can play songs. And you know what she said. She said you can play on your own just don’t play some nuisance. And I was thinking “every time I try to get romantic, she always, keeps me knowing out” but it was meaning to think about it.

“how long it going to take to be there” I asked in the gestalts way I know. I didn’t want to go back to our previous conversation and I needed my gaming system back from her.

“4 to 5 hours” she said.

“And what exactly we are up to? I mean, what we are going to do after being there?” I said.

“That what I was saying about. What you were doing when the command center was giving us the instructions. (she kept looking at me. like was the worst criminal in the jail) You were playing video games all the way” she said.

“ok ok. I am sorry” I shouldn’t ask that question.

After a long silence almost for an hour.

“Do you even know how difficult it to use wash room here.” I just said and she started laughing. And she keeps on laughing. And I was like “I should not talk about it further”

After a couple of moment of realization “did you messed up in the wash room” she asked me aggressively.

“nop. no. that couldn’t be happen” I said.

We both knew that we were not supposed to talk on this any further. But still after a silence I said. “What will happen if I messed up in there” and she just told me to Shut up. I was wondering about floating poop in the space and laughing on my own. She realized it. But she was really struggling hard to not to think about it, but she was still laughing hummingly.

After a couple of hours, we reached there. Well I thought it would be exiting to be there, maybe we can find something new. But when we reached there was nothing visible more than but dirt lands. It doesn’t seem like there are any life forms. Then we took the equipment and went out to dig the land and see what we can find.

We settled up the base with bunch of mechanics and antenna and we both had the ground biomass detector. We started the survey of the land surface. After some time when she felt we did enough to collect the data. She called me on microphone and told me to come back to the base.

“Did you find something” She asked. I denied.

“And You?” I asked & she dined & she started to feed the collated data in the monitor. After a minute she found a strange thing about the ground. The density of the ground was changing in one direction.

“We should go and see, maybe we could find something” she said.

“Ok” I had no idea what to do. I looked at the empty land surface and just said ok.

“it does not seem like there is anything” I said.

“No… there has to be something” she said like she knew something was there.

“what makes you so sure about it” I asked curiously.

“I saw something like water body while areal survey” she said.

“when you did the aerial survey. we were on the ground this whole time”

“before landing… I did it before we landed here as we were instructed… that’s why I told you stop playing video games. While working” She said and we kept moving and we reached almost half a km away from the base.

We stopped when we found a narrow trench probably, like a long running crack on the ground. We both came closer to the edge and looked below, there was nothing but all dark. We kept looking inside but didn’t see anything unusual and after hearing it closely, we found there is sound of water like some water fall.

She got excited and told me to hear it. We were looking at each other with a smile like we have found something that we were looking for all this time. then all a sudden a strong wind gust hit us. We didn’t notice the wind wave between all this. We fell in the trench unaware of the depth of canyon.

“Anni, are you, all right?” I was shouting, we both were holding rock ledge and hanging on the rock walls, she was little far to me. We both were try to get back to the surface but nothing worked.

“Ya, You Ok?” I said. And I fall silent. We both were looking some way to get out from there.

“Can you hear the sound of water” she was shouting.

“yes. I can hear it. but it’s all looking dark down there” I was shouting. After a while I said “did you feel it?”

“what?” she said.

“ground is shaking…. I think another wind wave is coming” I said.

“what?” she said as she didn’t hear me. And I felt like its increasing.

“i think the gro….” I was trying to told her something is not right here. But because of seismic of the ground and a strong wind gust again hit us. And on that a rock fell and hit my head. My helmet got cracked and I fell down in the dark. She shouted my name and jumped toward me. And we both garbed each other while falling. And kept falling till we splashed in the water. It was quite deep down.

We came out to the water surface. As we fall in the water, its stared glowing blue & all was visible now. And what we saw was so astonishing. The rock walls were getting wider as we were coming down, it was looking like two land mass from both sides had coved the river. We looked above and that crack was the only light, a light running through the linear crack. And it was beautiful.

We kept looking at each other and we both were breathing heavily. She was looking happy to find this place. And I was wondering now how we will go up their way, there was no vertical surface that we could climb.

We came out of the water to the shore. And my helmet was broken and I was still breathing.

“I thing it breathable atmosphere here” I said. And removed the helmet.

“your helmet is broken.?” She said. “there is spare oxygen mask in your backpack if needed”

“Ya. But its ok for now. I think” I said kept and keep looking here and there. “do this happens every time?” I asked.

“Not every time but sometime, weird thing happens” she said. When she said weird. I got little scared.

“What was need to jump behind me. and why its glowing?” I asked. She could help if she stayed up on the surface, but now we both were stuck in here.

“it looks like some kinds of bacteria” she said.

“will I fall sick?” asked.

“well you seem ok to me…. For now,” She said.

“What do you mean “for now?” I asked. I was scared.

“Nothing. Let’s see a way out” She said. And we stared waking on the shore & keep following until we got near the water fall. While looking at it, we were thinking “where the hell it’s coming from”. She was asking that too. She stared collecting every possible data of the thing around us. As I was not wearing the helmet, I felt something like wind. And I quickly run near the water fall and went below the water fall. And it was coming from between the rocks. I called her. And I was trying to move that rock.

“What are you looking at, Help me?” I asked.

“What made you think you can move that rock. Look at it. its twice of your size.” She said.

“Ya, but at list we can try.” I said. After thinking for a while, she went to the other side and removed a small size rock. And I was thinking that she was thinking to push that rock from the other side and me on another side and noting will be moved at all. But she was smart enough as usual to remove stone from the other side and then we can try.

We gave the push; it was quite heavy but after a while it rolled itself and moved a side. And what we saw was unexpected. There was a forest and green landscape, mountain, floating lands and light, and it was all underground. We both jumped out and grabbed each other like it this was the moment we were waiting for years and we kissed each other with the joy and found the glass of her helmet in between. After traveling far out in space from months, we found only dirt. But now it’s here a place with a different extraterrestrial biodiversity. And our journey started (to be continue…)

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batman-arkham-city-cheatsvs · 2 years

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batman arkham city cheats 100% working 52Y+

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Using the below cheat, you can select any alternative Batman skin and play them in the main game, without having to complete the full game. Left, Left, Down. The best place to get cheats, codes, cheat codes, walkthrough, guide, FAQ, unlockables, achievements, and secrets for Batman: Arkham City for Xbox There is a cheat code that allows you to use all the Batman's obtained skins and costumes. Head over to the Main Menu and hit the Left, Left. Start Batman: Arkahm City, and load a save. Once you load the save, double tap the F10 key. It will open the green command prompt on the bottom. 9 Home Discussions Workshop Market Broadcasts. Change language. Install Steam. It is only visible to you. If you believe your item has been removed by mistake, please contact Steam Support. Current visibility: Hidden. This item will only be visible to you, admins, and anyone marked as a creator. Current visibility: Friends-only. This item will only be visible in searches to you, your friends, and admins. I will go through a step-by-step process of how to use all the cheat codes in Batman: Arkham City. This item has been added to your Favorites. Created by. VeryThickBoy Offline. Category: Modding or Configuration , Secrets , Walkthroughs. Guide Index. Big Head Mode. Skin Selection. Skin Selection Hot-Key made by: Some dingus. Console Command Cheat Codes. Debug Menu. Hello Everyone! Now, let's get started Important information that should be taken into consideration before using a cheat is highlighted in bold. Big Head Mode is one of the best additions to the Arkham Series. Being in Arkham Origins, Arkham City, and Arkham Knight, it is well established in the series, and a hilarious cheat in these games. Note, to remove the Big Head Mode, repeat the steps of using the cheat, or restart you game. You can also use it in Riddler's Revenge challenge maps ; First Method. Cheat Code:. Using the guide, you can use a Hot-Key for the Skin Selection, instead of doing it manually. This'll help you if you're truly having trouble with the Cheat Code. I will be following her guide, and, please, go Rate and Follow her guide. Hot-Key Instructions:. Download Autohotkey [www. Download Mod [www. Like at the beginning of challenge maps, where you crack your knuckles, or throw something in the air and catch it, also know as a Taunt, can be activated using a cheat in story mode. Using Cheat Code. Installing the Console:. Using the Debug Menu will allow you to go to anywhere in the game, load any mission in the game, test rooms, peromance rooms, E3 presentations, etc. Check out my other guides You can contact me through my Discord Server [discord. Author: Very Thick Boy. Skin Selction Mod made by Some dingus. VeryThickBoy [author] 11 Sep, am. Dizzy Most if not all Unreal Engine games don't disable achievements. The only games that come to mind that actually disable achievements like that are anything made by Bethesda. Dizzy 16 Aug, pm. VeryThickBoy [author] 1 Oct, pm. Jordo24 No, only because these are engine level cheats. Big head mode is just for fun, skin selection same thing , etc. It isn't like a Bethesda game where it disables achievements if you move around a few files. Jordo24 1 Oct, pm. Do any of theese disable achievements? VeryThickBoy [author] 15 May, pm. Something like that would have to had been programmed in by the game devs already for us to use. Meaning, if there was something like that in the game, it would have been ripped out. Texmod sucks, GPUnity knows that, but that's best we can do right now. Keep an eye out though, and easier way to use his texture pack might be release soon. Nose Afaik, no, there isn't a cheat code for infinite disruptor ammo or a code for faster reloading. The codes that I supplied are the only codes I think that work in the game. There might have been other codes made my the devs to do something like what you're asking for. But, most of that stuff is ripped out of the game before the game ships. Is there any code for infinite disruptor ammo or make the disruptor reload more faster? Share to your Steam activity feed. You need to sign in or create an account to do that. Sign In Create an Account Cancel. All rights reserved. All trademarks are property of their respective owners in the US and other countries. Some geospatial data on this website is provided by geonames. View mobile website.

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batman-arkham-city-cheatsau · 2 years

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batman arkham city cheats work ELY%

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its5amgotosleep · 3 years

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Hickeys and shattered hearts / Maria Hill x Stark!reader / Natasha x Stark!reader

A/N:This one's kinda sad but also kinda cute idk

Warning: Light angst, cursing ofc.

дорогой - Sweetheart

---------------------🕸🕷----------------------

You were new to the Avenfers despite being Tony Starks sister. They didn't know he had a sister because he never told them per your request. And only introduced yourself during the battle of New York showing up in an iron suit.

Although you had already worked for Shield even before Tony did as an agent. You helped him build some of his suits, even made your own

Tony and you were slightly different from each other with you being more on the nicer and sweeter side but still had his wit and sass.

You got along with the rest of them team really well, especially with a certain red headed assassin. Natasha had gotten to like you a lot after a few years of being colleagues, though was a complete wreck at asking you out.

Now you and the Avengers are in Sokovia battling with Ultron and his iron legion alongside new additions. Pietro and Wanda Maximoff.

"So when do you think help is on the way." You blasted through the robots that were lined up. "Any minute now cavalry."

"I didn't say we should leave.." You hear Natasha as you land to the ground. "There's worse ways to go." She finishes, you open your mask to breath a little better. "This isn't exactly how I planned mine to be." You said taking a few deep breaths.

"Where else am I gonna get a view like this." She motioned about the floating country. "Only once in a lifetime." You try to see through the smoke.

"I hope you like the view Romanoff. It's about to get better." Fury says through the coms as the helicarrier emerges up from the clouds and smoke. "Nice right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple of old friends. She's dusty but she'll do."

"Fury you son of a bitch." You and Steve say as you looked in awe at the flying ship. "Oh, you two kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"I wouldn't really call her my mother, but yes I do kiss her with my mouth." You grinned as mask closed again ready for the second wave. Nat didn't know you were in a relatiowith someone only till a few weeks ago.

You were searching up on new technology to improve you and you brothers suits. Recently discovering about Nanotechnology, after days of research you've only managed to create a protoype for only the helmet.

You heard the door knock and said out a come in. "Hey, Y/N have you seen Bruce?" Natasha came in as you still had on the mask thst only reached the bottom of your neck.

"No sorry, haven't seen him since like an hour ago. Maybe he's in his room I guess." You shrugged as the mask slowly disappeared like it was dissolving from your face.

"Whoah how'd you do that you fuckin wizard or something." Nat looked at you surprised. "Cool right?" You grinned at her as you put the tech on a mannequin.

"I'll go find him, sorry to bother you." She smiled a little. "Yeah no problem." You focused on the computer. She was nearly out of the room when she noticed a bruise on the side of your neck.

Once you turned around a little it showed more purple and red spots on your neck. "Y/N.." She trailed as you looked up at her. "Yeah?"

"What happened to." She motioned to her neck and you looked at her in confusion. "Huh? Why? Is there something wrong?" You asked still confused.

"Look at the mirror." Her tone laced with a hint of jealously. "I don't what's- Oh!" You cut off your own sentence when you saw you reflection in the mirror. Red and purple marks scattered on your neck.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that!" Shrieking you activated the mask again hide them and your embarrassed face.

You hit your head on palm of your habd a few times chanting to yourself that you were stupid to not notice. "Look, it's ok, I've seen worse. Do you want me to help you with it?" Nat brushed of the feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"No no, I don't want to take away more time from you. I can just cover this up with some make up." The front of the mask opened as you had a sorry smile for her. But Natasha wanted to stay longer, she wanted to stay with you.

"Ok just, just call me if you need anything." She said as you let out a final apology and a thank you. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, please call Agent Hill immediately please." You command the A.I thingking that the ex russian spy was gone.

"What is it Stark? Somethibg happened?" Maria said from the other line. Natasha hid behind a wall to eavesdrop, yes it was wrong, but she just wanted an answer to her question.

"Don't Stark me Hill, you know what exactly happened." You spat before sending a photo to her. "I can't believe you didn't tell me before I left!" You sighed running a hand through your hair.

"I don't get what- Oh, Oh!" Maria stopped midway when she saw the photo you sent. "Well you didn't exactly say anything when we were-" "Don't you dare finish that sentence Hill or I will slap you across the face." You threatened through gritted teeth.

Natasha left not needing and not wanting to hear your conversation. She only asked for Bruce to have an excuse to see you.

Now she's left to go to the gym to blow off some steam and to avoid her heart from shattering entirely.

"I think I know who you're talking about. You two together the whole night at the party right?" Clint said as he smirked at you as you flew past him.

"You're seeing someone and you didn't tell me? I feel betrayed- I am betrayed." Tony sounded genuinely upset over the fact that Clint new and not him.

"We agreed not to tell anyone, and that anyone including you brother." You said matter of factly.

You saw Clint rushing behind a rock with a little boy trying to get to cover from the iron legion who were about to rain bullets on them.

Also noticing a blue and silver trail speeding towards them, you land right infront of Pietro and Clint shielding the three from the bullets, after they were done it was your turn to start beaming at them.

"What you didn't see that coming?" Opening the front of your mask to smirk at Pietro who looked at you like you were crazy.

"After this Fury, I'm gonna take a break. I've seen enough robots for the year. Person I am seeing you owe me a date." You say taking down a few more robots.

"I am going to pretend I didn't see her nod her head and smile. Stark you two have sone explaining to do before any dates will happen." Fury eyed Maria giving the 'Really? You two?' look.

The three of you got on to one of the ships to the helicarrier. "I'm sorry for what's about to happen." You apologetically glance at Pietro about Sokovia.

"Not exactly the way I wanted my chapter to end, but I guess it's something. This is where my family was made, this was also where it was destroyed, and where my twin and I made into well.. Whatever we are." His thick accent following through every word..

After the battle with Ultron, the civilians were given the help that they needed. "Having fun staring at the wall? It's an interesting wall don't get me wrong." You smiled as you walked towards Natasha.

"What'd you call me for? You need help finding Bruce again?" You asl as she shook her head turning to fully look at you.

"Not really, I just wanted to tell you something." Nat looked nervous which surprised you for the very first time. "It's about you."

"Me?" You pointed to yourself. "I- jesus christ this is harder than I thought." Nat let out a heavy sigh as you put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey its ok, take your time." You reassured her.

"I like you." She knew that you knew what it meant and was expecting to take your hand of her shoulder but you didn't. "I'm sorry Nat I really am, you're an amazing person."

"I know you can't, that's why I'm telling you this to let it out of my chest." Sadness was evident in her tone but she had to accept the fact the you can't love her back.

"I'll go beat up Hill if she hurts you." Nat joked as you pushed her shouler lightly. "We still friends?" You mumble as you pulled her to a hug.

She reciprocated by wrapping her arms around you. "Always." She said against your shoulder. "I better not find you downing a bottle of vodka later." You threatened as she just chuckled.

"I'll try not to." She says as you pulled away from the hug to glare at her. "No promises дорогой." She playfully smirked at you.

Natasha swore to herself to be there for you until the end. Not as lovers but as friends. Always and forever

Natasha left with Steve because they were evaluating the new recuits for the Avengers, she asked you if you wanted to come with her but you declined saying you were gonna meet with someone.

"Hey.." Maria said as she leaned against a wall seeing you walk down the halls. "Hi, were you waiting for me?" You ask as you walked closer to the Agent.

"No I wasn't." She simply replied as she looked at you and smiled "Really? Cause you looked like you were waiting for me." You raised a brow at her staring at hers, cold blue eyes thst somehow radiated warmth whenever she looked at you.

"Maybe I was maybe I wasn't." She smirked at you causing you to roll your eyes by her answer. "What were you doing before going here?" She asked as you two walked together.

"Oh I jusst rejected someone." You sighed rethingking what happened earlier. "Was it Natasha?" Maria says non chalanty.

You looked at her with a 'how the fuck.' face. "How the fuck did you know?" Your eyes wide as they can be. "I've known for a while know. At first I was worried about it."

"Oh yeah? Why so?" "Because I love you and you love me, simple as that." She gave a quick peck before walking ahead of your blushing face.

"Atleast kiss me properly Agent." You caught up to her and pulled her down for a proper kiss, instinctively placing her hand on your waist.

You pulled away as Maria was about to deepen in. "Although I'd love to but I only said for a proper kiss." Now it was your turn to give her quick peck before walking ahead of her.

"This so very cringey but also so cute at the same time." Coulson solighed as he saw the whole thing happen.

-----------------------🦅🕴️--------------------

#black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #natasha x you

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anakinshooker · 3 years

Text

markings- obi-wan kenobi

paring: obi-wan kenobi x reader

rating/genre: g/fluff

warnings: doesn’t follow cannon, light mentions of padawan/master relationship (everyone is of age!), brief mention of injuries

nicknames: y/n, young one, padawan

summary: an injured y/n doesn’t follow orders and get hurt

Being a Jedi was hard work. Sometimes it seemed like the whole galaxy was after you, but at least you had your best friend, and master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You had been Obi-Wan’s padawan after Anakin and grew to find him quite charming. You knew nothing was ever going to happen after all this is Obi-Wan Kenobi we are talking about. Mr. Stickler for the Jedi code. Being on your own was a rough reality check, but you got through it nevertheless.

The war was still pipeing hot, and everyone knew it was going to be awhile before it settled down. Count Dooku was able to always be one-step ahead of the Jedi. The Jedi Council sent you to investigate a stolen Republic ship that was pinging off of an outer rim planet. Alone with only your R3 unit to keep you company, you flew out. Commander Cody and his men weren’t able to assist you, since Anakin took them with him on a flashier mission.

As you were drifting in and out of your imagination while flying, until an incoming call from Master Kenobi came in.

“How’s the flight coming along,young one?” Kenobi’s angelic voice rang out over the intercoms.

“The flight is going quite well. Just a little boring. Shouldn't be too long before I land.” you answered back stifling a yawn.

“Are you well rested?” Obi-wan’s voice had a hint of worry.

“Yes, Master.” your voice was firm. You couldn’t let Obi-Wan know that you were up all night nursing a blaster wound. Speaking of which, you were soon going to need to steal some bandages from the medical unit soon.

“Are you sure, y/n? I need you to have a clear head throughout this whole mission.”

“I’ll be ok, Master. Don’t worry. I’m landing soon.” With that you clicked off the call. Now that you had thought about your blaster wound you could feel the swelling and heat radiating off of it. You sustained the injury while fighting Sepertist droids on Naboo. One of their blaster shots got past your lightsaber and grazed your thigh. You fought through it. You couldn’t let anyone know that a droid had hit you. Maybe it was a pride thing, but you were going to keep it hidden as long as you could. It’s easier than you think, swiping badges from medical units and cleaning it in the comfort of your own quarters; no one had suspected a thing.

R3 beeped as your ship got closer to the planet. “We are right on time, R3.” you smiled at yourself and your droid. This mission was going to be a breeze. You safely landed the ship, and jumped out to look around. “Stay here and guard the ship.”

As you looked around you started feeling an unbalance in the force. Something was very off. Your thigh was still aching as you climbed over rocks to try and find the Republic jet. The unbalanced feeling was not going away. Looking down at your wrist where the coordinates were being displayed through a hologram; you were supposedly right next to the ship. that when a blast went right past your ear. It was a trap. One you feel right into. You really needed to work on trusting the force more.

Squads of Sepertist droid were advancing shooting at you. You quickly drew you green lightsaber, and got to work. You went through the motions Obi-wan taught you. Block all the shots. Making sure you can control the situation, before you advance. The words of your Master were ringing through your head. The droids were terrible shots. You advanced and was able to cut them all down in seconds. “R3, send my corrdances to Master Kenobi. Make sure he knows it's a trap!” you commanded into your comms system. Quickly you hid behind a boulder before the second fighting squad could see you. There were too many of them for you to fight alone and hurt. You had no reinforcements. Yet, you felt this need to see who was behind this.

You snuck up on the droids and took them down. Sweat covering every inch of your body. All your bones were aching, but you needed to keep fighting. Your comms system started to ding, and you knew it was going to be Obi-Wan. “Hello Master. It seems I have fallen into a trap.” you recapped him.

“y/n you need to get out of there.” Obi-Wan's voice sounded worried again.

“But Master, I need to find out who is behind this.” you pleaded with him.

“That is a hard no. Get out of there. Now!” Obi-wan’s voice was harsh and you knew you needed to listen to him. Quickly you turned off your comm, and crawled from rock to rock getting closer to the base. You could hear droids talking amongst themselves.

“Where is the Jedi?” one voiced their robotic tone, “You! look over there.”

“Roger, Roger”

“And you! Look over there.” The boss droid was pointing around in different directions.

“Roger, Roger”

There were so many droids, and they were all over. As they did what they were told. One small group started looking around the area you were hiding in. Using the force you moved a small pebble; you were hoping that the droids were dumb enough to follow it to a place you could you could quietly kill them. Your comms system was constantly glowing red, and you knew you were going to get an earful when you got back to the base.

“Hey what’s that?” one of the droids asked. They all started chasing after the pebble. Walking straight into your lightsaber. That was the easy part, now to get inside the base. Except, you didn’t have to. General Grievous decided to make your job easy. He stormed out of the base; knocking droids over as we went.

“How did you imbeciles lose the Jedi?” Grievous yelled in anger. He was seething, and this settled your curious nature.

“R3, Start up the jet. I’ll be back soon.” you said into your comms. You moved as quietly and quickly as you could.

“There she is!” a droid shouted. Shit. You needed to get out of here. Your thigh felt as if it couldn’t hold your body, but you had to trust it. You stood up fully, and started running as fast as you could.

“R3! Move the jet closer!” You yelled into your comms. Blasts were going past your whole body. R3 did as he was demanded, and parked himself and the jet a couple feet away. As you were climbing into the small ship you were grazed by another blaster shot to the thigh. You screamed in pain. You kept moving, and as soon as all of you were inside the chamber; you were flying into space.

“What the hell was that y/n?” you saw Obi-Wan’s hologram.

“Please wait to tell me off until I get back to base. Please Obi-Wan.” you pleaded yet again with him. His hardened eyes softened, and he slightly nodded his head before signing off.

The flight back was just as boring, and you spent most of it gathering your thoughts, and keeping pressure on your wound. There was no way to hide this one. It had reopened your other wound as well as making its own mark on your skin. You were in obvious pain; limping and whimpering each time little pressure was put on the thigh. You also looked at the rest of your body. Nothing too bad, except for the bright, red scratches on your right cheekbone and forehead. There were some bruises that had already formed on your arms and parts of your legs. You will yourself to keep pressure on your thigh; you would worry about the other things later.

As soon as you landed, Obi-Wan and Commander Rex were there to help you out. You swang your legs over the side of the jet, but as soon as your legs touched the ground you whimpered, and started to fall. Obi-Wan was there to catch you, holding you. “Rex, notify the medical droids we will be there shortly.” he ordered the clone. Rex left without saying a word. “Are you okay?” he asked with only worry in his voice. You softly shook your head no. He sighed deeply before picking you up carrying you to the medics.

“General Grievous was behind the attack.” you whispered to him.

“I suspected it wouldn’t be anyone important.” Obi-Wan said under his breath. “Don’t think about it right now. I need you to focus on getting healthy again.”

“Okay, Master.” you let your head drop into his chest. You felt safe. Nothing was going to hurt you.

Obi-Wan gently laid you down on the table for the medic droid to look over. You sighed when his arms left your body, but they quickly returned. He helped you take off your robes, looking you over himself.

“That wound doesn't look to be from today.” The droid pointed out.

“When did you get that one, my poor padawan?” Obi-Wan asked you, sounding slightly disappointed.

“When we were fighting in Naboo.” you whispered.

“We were in Naboo three days ago! Why didn’t I know about this?” he questioned.

“I couldn’t let anyone know a droid nearly shot me!” you exclaimed. Obi-Wan gave you a long, hard look before going completely silent.

“You should be healed in two weeks if you stick to cleaning it, and resting.” The droid sounded loud in the quiet room.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan shooed the droid away. “I don't know what got into you! It’s okay to admit that you were shot by a droid! You should never keep an injury from me! You should also follow my orders. I know you aren’t exactly my padawan anymore, but I am still higher ranked than you, and you need to listen to me. I mean look at you. You're all marked up! What if it was worse? What if I lost you?” Obi-wan wasn’t giving you a chance to speak. “Maker, what would I do if I sent you on a simple retrieval mission and you didn’t come back?”

“Obi-Wan! I’m fine! I can handle myself! I passed the Jedi knight trials for makers sake! Why do you care so much? You wouldn’t have made this big of a deal if I was Anakin!” you poured out. You knew it was unfair to compare you and Anakin, but you were hurt and he needed to understand that you weren’t his helpless padawan anymore.

“It’s because I don’t love Anakin like I love you.” Obi-Wan confessed. His voice was now back to a low, caring tone. “I don’t think about Anakin, like I think about you.”

“I love you too, Obi-Wan.” you confessed back. Fuck whatever the Jedi council would think if they heard this. You were going to get better in the hands of the one you truly love.

The next morning you awoke in Obi-Wan’s quarters. He was awake staring at the ceiling, while slowly leaving delicate traces on your upper arms. “What’s keeping you up, love?” you asked him in a whisper. He looked down at your head on his chest.

“Nothing my love. Go back to sleep.” Obi-Wan kissed your forehead, and closed his eyes, falling back asleep. you weren’t able to fall back asleep until you could hear his steady heartbeat, and feel his leveled out breathing. Closing your eyes you fell back asleep in his arms. Forever feeling safe and sound in his arms. It was going to take you a couple weeks to get better, but at least you had Obi-Wan to take care of you.

finished.

#obi wan star wars #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan imagine #obi wan kenobi imagine #star wars fanfiction #obi wan fluff #my writing

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zinzinina · 3 years

Text

part x (the rest)

Pairing - Boba Fett x F!Reader Rating - Explicit 18+ Word Count - 8k

A/N - I’m so sorry this update took a bit longer than usual. I received a few questions about why it was taking so long, and it’s just because I’d been working on another fic which took up a lot more of my attention and time than I’d expected, oops!

Thank you for your patience and I really hope this is worth the wait! As always, I love hearing your thoughts. x

CW: Warnings for this chapter include graphic descriptions of injuries, oral sex (f receiving), PIV sex.

main masterlist // series masterlist

It’s almost funny that you’d die like this, considering everything else you’ve been through.

“You can’t drop a charge?” you manage, clutching for dear life at the edges of the copilot’s seat as a hit smashes into the back of the ship. You should have anticipated running into one of Boba’s hostile ex-associates in a place as thick with other hunters as Jabba’s palace, but you couldn’t have predicted that the combination of small, shitty decisions you’d both recently made would lead to this situation: being chased by a crew of the ugliest, meanest-looking fuckers you’d ever seen.

The modulated response is flat, sounding more frustrated than genuinely concerned. “Without shields, we’d be risking damaging ourselves as much as them. Surat must’ve had a tipoff that we’ve been limping. Not even he’d be crazy enough to try anything against the Slave at her full power.”

Another wracking shudder through the hull as he fires off several short bursts of concussion fire. If flying with disconnected shields wasn’t bad enough, you’re running dangerously low on supplies. You’d agreed not to replenish your stores before leaving Tatooine; the thought of taking any more water from Jabba distasteful at best. Llanic, with a refuelling depot directly beside the hyperlink stop point, had seemed like the wiser option…at the time.

The comms crackle to life and there’s a burst of jeering and whooping background noises before an accented voice fills the cockpit.

“You’re finished, Fett. You and the girl. I’d rather not have to rebuild your whole ship when I take it. Pull up and we might go easy on her.”

You laugh. “Go easy on me?” Boba manoeuvres higher, firing another volley of shots. You can hear the cursing and beeping of alerts through the open channel as the hits meet their mark; the pursuing crew’s laughter fracturing into shouted commands.

Another deep voice, sibilant and thick with hatred. “I haven’t forgotten you, little ingrate. Should’ve accepted my offer when you had the chance.” You frown at the comms.

“Is that you, Makarial? Huh. You still owe me a cocktail, by the way.” She starts snarling something in response, but you’ve already reached up to switch off the channel. “You gonna jump us out of here?”

He’s reaching above his head to bring up the navicomp. “Try not to get hit,” he tells you, grasping your wrist and dragging you across into his lap. You settle between his thighs, your hands clumsy as you seize the controls.

Almost immediately the ship lurches forward in an uncontrolled burst, responding to your touch with a jolt. “Oh,” you gasp. “What the fuck have you done to the engines on this thing?”

He chuckles low. You knew it’d been modified within an inch of its life, but—more bolts raze past the viewport and you try to bring your focus back to the controls. His gloved fingers are quick, his spread thighs braced around your legs and holding you secure as you wrench the yoke sideways, narrowly missing a volley of fire. You can’t fire and fly at the same time; you have no idea how he was doing it.

“Motherfu—“ he hisses, and you don’t have a chance to ask before you’re frantically trying to manoeuvre into a violent turn, bringing the ship about to face the smoking craft still firing at you. You let go of the yoke to seize desperately for the ion cannons as Boba reaches around your waist to steady the controls.

“We should be gone by now. Boba?”

“The hyperdrive—must’ve been the first thing they hit,” he grits. The gravelly quality of his voice through the modulator, right beside your ear, makes you shiver pleasantly and you don’t immediately understand what he’s said.

“Oh. Oh. Shit.”

“Yep.”

He yanks the controls back smoothly, and you lean your weight against the cold metal length of his body as the ship accelerates over the top of the burning attack barge. You manage to fire off several shots, clumsily sending all of them wide but managing to force the barge to veer out of your way.

“Back to Tatooine?” you gasp, bracing yourself between his legs.

“Not a good idea. We’ve taken some damage; I won’t know exactly how much ’til I’ve had a proper look. But Surat’s crew aren’t the only ones who’d happily take her off my hands. We’re an easy target like this. We need to find somewhere off-grid until I can get some work done.” He’s already bringing up a chart and you marvel again at how easily he controls the ship; his practised familiarity with the controls seeming as natural to him as walking.

“We’ve already left the Tatoo system,” you mutter, twisting to look into the displays beside you. The attack barge is floundering but you can tell it’s far from scuttled. As soon as the crew figures out how, they’ll reroute their systems and pick up the chase. “We might have nowhere else to go within realspace range.”

He’s shaking his head behind you and you feel as his thighs tighten around yours, leaning in to bring up a shorter-ranged scanner than the broad-system charts. “Arkanis is closer. And they won’t be expecting us to head there.” He’s already punching in the coordinates, Slave I accelerating smoothly despite the rattle of loosened panels beneath.

“Arkanis? Why wouldn’t they expect us to go there?” You’ve never heard of it, and you’re assuming it’s just another Outer Rim backwater no more than a smudge on most charts.

He sounds darkly amused as he responds, your cheek pressing against the cool of his helmet as you look back up at him. “Because it’s the location of an Imperial Training Academy.”

It takes less time than you’d expected to reach the sector, burning through the fuel in the backup engines faster in sublight but, thanks to the ship’s years of customisations, easily outpacing the smoking barge. Without a working hyperdrive, you can’t outrun them forever but once you’re out of range of their scanners, you easily lose them well before your approach to the system.

The whole planet is blanketed in cloud; the sun-facing surface glowing pale and moonlike with reflected light on approach. Boba manoeuvres to a quadrant low on the upper hemisphere, avoiding the heavy concentration of orbital traffic surrounding the planet’s equator.

As you lower into the atmosphere, the pound of rain on the hull is thunderous and you can barely see through the viewport; grey mist obscuring everything beyond a line of tall trees. The landing is uneven, gyroptics catching and whining as the ship attempts to right itself on the softened ground before finally shuddering to a rather final-sounding stop.

You turn slowly to look up at him, failing to repress the little twist of your lips. “So. This finally going to be that holiday you promised me?”

His answering grunt is scornful. “I don’t want to be here for any longer than we need to. You can’t afford to miss two pucks in a row, little one.”

You’d nearly forgotten about that, and you glance up to where it swings from the bulkhead, tiny red light blinking. “It can wait,” you say, pressing your lips together. “It’s just a warrant for some smuggler. Nobody’ll be in a hurry for that one.”

Now that you’re landed somewhere solid, away from danger, you’re aware of how close you are. Pinned between the controls and his thick, powerful thighs…you wriggle back experimentally and he groans low.

“We need to get supplies…” he trails off as you grind your ass back against his codpiece, your fingers digging into the unarmored gaps above his knees.

“I like this,” you breathe. “We should co-pilot from the same seat more often.” He lets go of the controls to wrap his arms around your body, gloved hands cupping your breasts over your clothes.

“If you do that, I'll end up flying us into the side of a moon. You won’t be happy until one of us are dead,” he grouses, but you can tell from the roughened quality of his voice through the modulator that you’ve got him, arching into his hold with satisfaction.

“All the more reason to make the most of the time we have,” you tell him, reaching to unbutton the front of your flightsuit.

Your hand squeaks on the steamed inside of the viewport as you squint out into the gloom. You can’t see any signs of activity; only trees and moss awash in deep green.

“It looks quiet out there,” you murmur. Boba glances up from where he’s pulling his boots back on behind you, running a hand back through his hair.

“There’s a town a few klicks away, just over the hill. We’re pretty far from the Academy,” he tells you. “Arkanis’ main export used to be fish. Probably still is, for the civilians anyway.”

“That’ll be a nice break from the ration packs.” You shiver as you stand, fastening your flightsuit back up to your neck. The chill from outside is already seeping through the transparisteel, and you don’t like the thought of venturing out into the rain, but need overtakes want. “Okay. I know we need food. Hopefully the tanks can filter enough water from the rain without me hauling any back. And…I need compound elements for my stims. Any other requests?”

He frowns as he reaches across for his helmet. “I’ll figure it out when I see what kinds of spare parts they have.”

“Make a list for me and I’ll see what I can do. We’re supposed to be laying low. And…you’re too recognisable, armoured or not,” you tell him. He glances at his helmet, still grasped in his hands, before shaking his head.

“Ah,” he says, a trace of some dark, deprecating humour flicking across his features. “Fair point.”

You press a closed-mouth kiss to the space above one of his eyebrows, your tone teasing but light. “It’s not just your face. Or the armour. Maybe if you didn’t have quite so much presence, Fett.”

He snorts. “That meant to be a joke?”

You bite your lower lip, raking your gaze up the length of his body. “The way you carry yourself. When you walk into a room. Even the way you sit. It’s…fuck, you know exactly what you do. I’ve seen you doing it on purpose. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

His dark eyes glint in the pale light as his hand grabs roughly at your ass, dragging you closer. “You’d better stop now if you want to get out there and back before dark.”

You leave him with the front half of his body buried under the side of a radiator fin, the overturned panels laying around his feet pinging with raindrops.

It’s quiet under the thickness of the cloud cover; the gentle white noise of dripping leaves disguising the sounds of any animal life. Your boots sink inch-deep with every muddy step, your hand resting lightly on your belt as you walk. You don’t anticipate any danger; it’s quiet, and feels oddly peaceful in the watery green light, but old habits die hard.

Past the line of towering trees, you pick out the signs of a rough path leading over the hill toward the town. It’s paved with asymmetrical round stones, but they appear to have been laid for beings with a non-human step. Even at a leap you can’t avoid squelching into the mossy spaces between, and by the time you pass the low stone walls bordering the edge of the town, you’re soaked up to your knees.

The town is alive. Moss grows up between gaps in the paved road, creeping bright and slippery across the charcoal-coloured external walls of most buildings. The town is bigger than you expected, but spread out, squat buildings set low and wide with smooth round roofs. Little dim alleyways run with water into deep stone gutters. It seems to have been built with the planet’s climate in mind; aqueducts running overhead to carry the worst of the rain away from the peaked rooftops.

As you pass an open-sided building, several Mon Calamari children skip past, yelling and squealing as one brandishes a stick at the others. A woman follows, her gills blowing impatiently as she folds her webbed hands across the thick woollen sweater covering her chest.

“You won’t be allowed to come next time if you behave like this every market day,” she yells, protuberant eyes narrowed. Her gaze darts across to you as you pass, and you duck your head, hurrying on. While it’s far from crowded, the few figures on the streets all seem to know one another, pausing to stop and talk, unbothered by the drizzle. Pots of tiny, dark coloured flowers hang from the awnings of a row of small shops, and you pause in front of one, peering through the glowing windows.

A heavy-set human man sits beside the door, reading from a datapad as it glows up into his face. He takes you in warily, gaze resting on the mark over your brow and the weaponry on your wrist and belt, his thick red eyebrows lowering with mistrust. “You’re not from here,” he observes, and you bite back a sarcastic response at the obviousness of his statement.

“My ship’s damaged and I need supplies. Raw bacta bases, separated cleaning compounds, or Medkit stores, if you have them. Is there a dispensary here?”

He appears to think hard, glancing up the street. You shift on your feet, your eyelashes clumped together with rain. The damp is beginning to make you shiver miserably.

Finally, he sniffs, running a hand under his nose. “There’s an apothecary two laneways down. Cross into the alley, go down the steps. She might have what you need.” He says it low, like he’s afraid of being overheard. You frown. There’s nobody else within earshot, and you wonder briefly what’s so secret about an apothecary.

You give him a short nod, heading off in the direction he’d indicated. Maybe she’s not supposed to be selling raw materials so close to an Imperial base, you muse. You know the Empire’s tax on merchants is debilitatingly high and wouldn’t be surprised to learn most traders are operating off-books. He’d obviously taken a look at your bloodied, scruffy appearance and worked out that whatever you were, it wasn’t an Imp. The laneways are empty, and as you cross into the alley you feel a prickle of apprehension. You have your blaster and vambrace, but you’re running low on darts. If somebody tried to jump you now, you’d be drawing a lot more attention than what probably constituted laying low.

You find the shadowed staircase leading down, an arch of the building overhead providing shelter from the rain. There’s a plain door set in a durasteel frame, warped and knotted from years of moisture. The access panel set into the wall is leaching rust into the surrounding stone, but blinks a welcoming green. Glancing back over your shoulder, you rap on it with your knuckles. Nobody else is in sight, the windows facing into the alley dark. You stand for several long moments, unease mounting. You take the few steps back up to street level and glance around. It’s deserted.

Against your better judgment, you step lightly back down to the bottom of the steps and bang once more, loud now, with the side of your fist. When there’s still no answer, you huff quietly and jab your thumb at the panel, the door withdrawing up into its frame smoothly. Your hand rests on your hip as you lean in.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

It’s warm and dry inside, lit with glowpanels set into the walls. You take a few steps, the floor softened with layers of rugs, breath bated. There are shelves of medical supplies, interspersed with jars and small plasticrete boxes. A low, wide counter stretches along one wall, with a little transceiver crackling out some kind of Braccan heavy metal. A woman’s voice, deep and smooth, calls from somewhere behind the shelves.

“Sit down somewhere. And don’t touch anything.”

You lower yourself onto an overturned crate, crossing one knee over the other. It’s impossible to tell how deep the room goes; the shelves reaching all the way to the low ceiling. Quiet footsteps sound, and you glance up. Two women step out from around the shelves, both dressed in layers of warm, practical-looking clothing. One is young, much younger than you, with a pretty, pointed face and wild curls. She rests one hand on her gigantic stomach, clutching a little brown jar as she listens intently to the other woman, who’s speaking in the low register you’d heard a moment ago.

“Don’t take it more than twice a night. If you still don’t feel any better, we’ll try something else. But I have a good feeling about this one.”

The younger woman nods, smiling shyly to reveal an endearing gap between her front teeth. She glances at you and startles slightly, hurrying past without meeting your gaze again. The door beeps as it releases her out into the drizzling day.

“Take your hand off the blaster,” the remaining woman says. She isn’t looking at you, her back turned as she steps onto a low stool to replace a jar on a shelf behind her. You hadn’t even realised you were touching it, and you sheepishly place both hands flat in front of you.

“I’m not here to cause any trouble. I need supplies.” Her head is still bent, now flipping through a stack of pouches behind the counter thoughtfully. “I heard you might have raw compounds.”

Her head straightens as she finally looks up at you, and you get to see her properly. She’s older than you’d expected from her litheness and rigid posture; her close cap of tightly coiled hair run through with grey. Her skin is a deep, rich tone, darker than Boba’s and creased around her eyes and mouth. She’s striking; high-cheekboned and long-limbed. Perhaps most startling of all is the directness of her gaze. She’s staring at you like she could see right through you, her full mouth pressed into a tight little line. It’s uncomfortable, and you shift, uncrossing your legs awkwardly.

“Which compounds do you need?” she asks. You rattle off the names of several, and she’s unblinking as she considers you. “Some of those are illegal,” she responds. Her tone is flat but conversational, and you note the clipped cadences at the edge of her speech. She’s not from here either, you realise. She sounds like a Core Worlder.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” You offer her a little smile, which she doesn’t return. “And I can pay. Credits aren’t a problem.”

Her gaze flicks away dismissively as she returns the handful of pouches to some hidden spot under the counter. “They’re a problem for me. Imperial currency is trackable. I don’t deal in it.”

You frown. “Look, I…know people who deal in credits all the time. Involved with much shadier shit than some tax-evading pharmacist. Nobody cares enough to go to the trouble of tracking it.”

She leans against the counter, tapping her index finger on the polished surface. “How long will you be here?”

The question catches you off guard, and you aren’t immediately sure how to answer it. “Maybe…a week? My ship’s damaged. However long it takes to get it repaired.”

She nods, her voice sharp. “Then you can work for me. I need another pair of hands. Be here by dawn tomorrow.”

You open your mouth, and shut it again, indignant. What the fuck? Does she think you look like a shopkeeper? You aren’t going to carry her heavy boxes around for her, either. If she knew the kind of work you normally do, she wouldn’t dare. But then you remember the position you’re in. You’re stuck here, and there’s nowhere else for you to gather supplies. Maker knows how long it’ll take for Boba to repair the damage; you’re guessing those extensive customisations on the Slave aren’t quick fixes. So you scowl at her, and tilt your head to the side. You’re unable to keep the edge of derision completely out of your voice.

“Any other demands?”

This seems to get the warmest response out of anything you’ve said so far. Her lips finally turn up at one side, and it’s a hard, humourless expression. She tosses you a bundle of canvas from under the counter, and you catch it to your chest reflexively, shaking it out. It’s a poncho; the waterproof fabric crinkling under your fingers. “Wear that. I don’t want you dripping all over my floor.”

By the time you make it back, it’s almost dark. You follow the dim red glow through the treeline until the ship comes into view, tarps covering one side of the hull. There’s a small fire burning under the cover of the side fin, throwing light around the little clearing. It’s oddly cosy; the smell of the damp wood mingling with the bitterness of the fuel. Boba steps down from the ramp, an empty weapons crate in his arms.

“Any luck?” he calls, setting it down beside the fire. You hurriedly duck under the cover of the fin, grateful for the poncho’s cover as you show him your armful of spoils.

“I’ve got food. Looks pretty good too, they had bread and fish and—look, fresh kibla greens. I’ve never had them when they haven’t been freeze dried.”

He helps you unload, setting everything down beside the ramp. “What about the rest of it?”

You huff. “About that. You might be on your own with these repairs. I got a job.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t think there was a Guild outpost here.”

“Not a job-job. A job. At the apothecary.” He stares at you like you’ve grown another head.

“Why?”

You lower yourself down to a crouch, opening your palms in front of the fire’s warmth. Red light plays across your cheeks, and you glance up at him as you answer. “She won’t sell me what I need. Seems jumpy about credits, said I can work for it instead. Did you get a chance to pull out the hyperdrive? How are we looking?”

He crosses his arms, brows furrowed as he looks past you into the darkened forest. “Might take me longer than I thought. Could be a few weeks, even longer. It’s best if we avoid using any comm signals; could be someone listening out for our frequency. It’s not just the hyperdrive; I knew I shouldn’t have left that stuck landing sequence go for as long as I did. And the shield generator’s fucked.” His slow, flat twang lists each problem with a mildness you don’t share.

You sigh, closing your eyes. It’d be just your luck that of all the planets you’d be stuck on, it’d have to be one as cold and rainy as this. Something heavy settles over your shoulders, and you open your eyes. Boba’s draped his cape over you, and he slides the crate closer to the fire with his knees, gesturing for you to sit.

“Stay here. I’ll get bowls.”

The food is simple, but warming. You’re both quiet as you eat; the first time in a long time you’ve actually enjoyed the taste of food. Ration packs are sufficient to keep a person alive, but there isn’t a being in the galaxy that enjoys the flavour. Stomach pleasantly heavy, you stretch your feet out toward the fire, leaning your head on Boba’s shoulder. You can feel the warmth beginning to seep through the soles of your boots, but your toes are still numb and you shiver as you try to wriggle closer.

He exhales in a low rumble. “Give me your feet.”

You comply, twisting until your legs lay across his lap. He pulls your damp boots off, tossing them to lay close to the fire, expression inscrutable. His hands wrap around your freezing toes and you almost moan with the warmth as he holds you there, waiting until you warm up. It feels incredibly tender; his rough palms firm and close, the crackle of the fire under the muted sounds of the dripping forest.

You’re nodding drowsily when he speaks again, barely above a murmur. “Try to get blankets in town tomorrow. It’s colder inside the ship, and the generators aren’t an option since I had to pull them out to check the fuses.”

You yawn comfortably. You’re touched with this; that he’s concerned with such a basic human comfort as blankets when you’ve seen him fall asleep in the pilot’s seat of his ship, arms folded. “You going soft on me, Fett? Or just worried I’ll keep you awake shivering to death beside you?”

He chuckles, an indulgent sound as he presses his thumbs into the arches of your soles. “Well. You’re no good to me dead.”

You don’t bother knocking this time, opening the door panel and stepping straight inside. “Good morning,” you call, pulling the dripping poncho off to lay beside the door.

There’s no sign of the apothecary. As you step toward the shelves you startle violently, raising your blaster and nearly shooting a hole through a wall as a loud, broken scream shatters the silence.

“Back here,” comes the woman’s voice, and you hurriedly wind your way through the shelves until you reach a doorway to another, smaller room. Windowless and bright, a young man is laying on a table, moaning low as he attempts to sit up. The apothecary motions toward his legs, her hands wrapped around his forearm.

“Hold him down.”

You lean your weight against his knees, pinning him in place. The apothecary is doing something up by his side, and he screams again, struggling to get up. Your stomach catches when you see it. The mess of splintered, broken meat at the end of his arm appears to be all that’s left of his hand. Blood is pulsing slowly through the apothecary’s fingers, her grip on his wrist slipping against the wetness as she attempts to examine the raw churn of bone and tendon. She glances up and meets your gaze.

“Give him something for the pain. This has to come off.”

You’re already reaching for your belt, withdrawing one of your last remaining canisters before you realise the strangeness of her order. There’s no way she could possibly know you had something like that on you, you think, nearly missing the injection point at his elbow as he thrashes again. He’s kicking the air out of your lungs as you lean across his body, and you grunt. You consider then that maybe she meant for you to go back into the shop and find something else to give him, wondering why you’re wasting one of your last precious doses. You try to refocus, depressing the serum, and he slumps back onto the table, breathing heavily.

His eyes are slipping shut, and you can’t tell if he can hear you as you murmur to her. “What do you want me to do?”

Her thin, dark eyebrows are pinched together. “There’s a plasma saw behind your head. On the wall.” You hurry to assist, standing close as she bends to concentrate on removing the flayed remnants below his wrist. The smell of burning bone and flesh sears at your nostrils, and you focus hard; keeping your grip on his shoulder in case of a reflexive jolt. You wordlessly pass her the rag she points out, watching as she wipes her bloodied hands before handing it back. She works fast and clean, and it takes less time than you’d expected. The young man’s breaths are deep and even as she wraps his cauterised stump in bacta-soaked gauze.

Wordless, she lowers his arms across his chest and motions for you to join her. You stand side by side, scrubbing blood from your hands in a low basin at the back of the room. Your mind whirls with scraps of memory.

“Not your first time with this type of thing,” she says. It doesn’t sound like a question, and you don’t answer until she looks up at you.

“No.”

She nods approvingly, turning to lead you back into the shop. “He’ll be okay. You need a drink.”

You sit across from her behind the counter; the cup of spiked caf warming your palms. Your shakiness has nothing to do with the graphic nature of the injury. You’ve seen worse. You’ve probably caused worse. No, your uneasiness has more to do with the familiar layout of her tiny makeshift theatre. You feel like a child again, remembering helping with similar procedures in your mother’s almost identical workroom. The image pops into your head of rows of smuggled vaccines, shattered on the floor under the boots of stormtroopers. You haven’t thought about this for a long time.

The apothecary is leaning on her elbows against the counter, tapping something into her datapad. You swallow before speaking, your voice thick.

“What happened to him?”

She answers levelly. “Accident at the Academy.”

You watch her face. It’s perfectly smooth as she types, not a single emotion betrayed. “The Academy doesn’t have its own medbay?”

She glances up at you. She doesn’t need to say a word, her direct gaze shutting down your next comment. You take another sip of your drink, the warmth comforting all the way down your throat.

“Finish your caf. I’ll need help cleaning the equipment when you’re done.”

The rest of the day passes comparatively uneventfully. You help clean down the blood from the improvised operating table. You help her sort through piles of unlabelled packets of medication, distributing capsules and powders into smaller jars. People walk in and out of the shopfront: a soft-spoken Rodian collecting several large unmarked boxes, a woman with a tiny baby that doesn’t stop screaming the entire time she’s inside, an elderly married couple—both men having caught the same harsh-sounding cough at the exact same time.

Sometime in the late afternoon, a young man and woman appear in the shop. Your practised eye doesn’t miss the blasters at their hips, or the edgy way the woman stands by the door, arms folded. You stare silently at her while the man follows the apothecary into the back room. She has a long, pale face under short brown hair, fringe cut messily in an angle across her forehead. She stares back at you. Her clothes remind you of your own; well worn and with old, faded bloodstains. She’s about as Imperial as you are, you think. Less, probably, considering the dispensation Boba’s contract has afforded you.

It’s then that you notice a tiny tattoo under the edge of her vest. Barely one side is visible, but it’s enough for you to recognise the shape. She sees you looking and adjusts her neckline.

Her companion staggers out from between the shelves, the uninjured arm of the unconscious young man around his shoulder. The two figures struggle to balance the third, his weight flopping between them as they carry him up the stairs and out of sight. The whole thing is unmistakably covert, and you raise an eyebrow as the apothecary ignores you, writing something on the side of a small box.

“Do you get many offworlders visit?” you ask lightly.

“A few.”

“What kinds?”

“Pilots. Traders, refugees, smugglers. The odd bounty hunter.” She looks at you pointedly with this last, and your lips turn up in an uncomfortable little smile. She has no way in hell of knowing who you are. You can’t let your paranoid brain run away with you.

“But they don’t stay long.”

“No. Especially not the bounty hunters. They don’t live long.” You’re sure you aren’t imagining the hard, ironic edge of humour under her voice. She finishes writing and straightens up. “That’s enough for one day. Be careful in the woods. There are boar-wolves.”

You nod, heading for the door, but her voice pauses you.

“Cere,” she says. You look up at her in confusion.

“What’s that?”

“It’s my name. Be back here the same time tomorrow.”

The first week passes into a second, then a third in a blur of rain and blood. Each day you trudge into town, cold and miserable, working in the apothecary until mid-afternoon. Cere keeps you busy, helping her with everything from lancing boils to setting broken bones. You surprise yourself with how quickly fall into an easy rhythm, though she still seems decidedly cautious around you; sometimes speaking low into a comms device as she shuts you out of her back room. You only catch simple, provincial-sounding words; something about a harvester. It all seems innocuous enough that you begin to wonder at her paranoia.

She leaves sometimes for hours on end to make deliveries, taking her datapad with her; and your snooping uncovers nothing of interest besides racks of pharmaceuticals. Each night you return to the ship, the progress excruciatingly slow. But you find you don’t mind. There’s something quietly comforting in the returning, waiting for the thrill of seeing him again, the lazy way your bodies welcome one another in the dark hold of the ship. You drag parts back as you’re able to source them, Boba insistent on carrying out every detail of the work himself.

Two more injured Imperial cadets appear during this time; a girl and another boy. Their injuries are almost identical; hands crushed and mangled beyond recognition. The most recent boy’s injury seems to be less severe than the previous two, and between yourself and Cere you manage to save nearly the whole hand; only losing the smallest and ring fingers. He sits with his wrapped hand held against his chest, glaring at you while you clean the table around him. He looks every inch the Imperial kid, you think derisively. Smooth-skinned and haughty. And as with each previous case, you watch as another furtive-looking pair comes to escort the injured cadet away, caps drawn low over their faces.

“They have a lot of accidents at this Academy,” you comment one afternoon, testing the water. “The injuries are...thorough.”

Cere is paring a joganfruit with a tiny knife, no longer than your thumb but curved with a wicked edge. She hands you a slice, and you pop it into your mouth, dangling your feet over the side of the counter. You’re warm in your thick, rough spun tunic; one of several pieces of clothing she’s given you. You’d stopped bringing the blaster with you at the end of the first week, but haven’t found any reason to part with your vambrace. The smooth edge peeks from the cuff of your sleeve, subtle as a bracelet.

“Brendol Hux is known for his unusual methods of training,” she says slowly, biting into a slice of her own.

You hum, nodding. “Yeah. I’ve heard the name. Used to be friends with Atton Tervus. They must have had similar…proclivities. Tervus liked hurting girls.”

She shoots you a hard glance. “Used to be?”

“He died. On Canto Bight. It’d be...oh, a while ago now. Months.” She’s still staring at you with that searing, stripping gaze and you meet it, unblinking. “Heart failure. I heard.”

She doesn’t respond, leaning back against the counter beside you. There’s a particular grace to the curve of her neck as she looks down, cutting another small sliver of fruit and balancing it on the blade as she holds it out to you. The silence stretches, both of you chewing companionably, until you break it. “You’re taking a risk with these kids.”

She sighs, and wipes her juice-stained hands on the legs of her trousers, tucking the paring knife into her pocket. You continue, sounding more vehement than you intend. “They’re not going to change their stripes overnight just because of what happened to them. They chose to enlist. They’ve probably still got family and friends in that Academy, or working in Destroyers offworld. There’s nothing to stop them from selling you out the first chance they get. You, and your friends with the Starbird tattoos.”

She takes a long, slow breath, looking up at a blank spot on the wall before turning her head to face you. You kick your feet against the counter, unsure why you feel so impatient. Her deep voice is emotionless as she gives you a hard little smile. “I believe in second chances. Most people only do terrible things because they think they don’t have a choice. But they do. Doesn’t matter what you’ve already done. It matters what you do next. I’m not worried about those kids.”

She’s staring directly into your eyes as she talks, and you feel a coldness drop out of your stomach. You feel attacked somehow, naked and small. You can’t meet her gaze as you speak, looking down at your hands.

“You don’t think you’re just delaying the inevitable? The Empire will kill every last person in that Rebellion, you know. You don’t think it would be safer just to…accept the way things are?”

She straightens, walking towards the back room. Her answer drifts between the shelves over her shoulder. “This galaxy fell once. I’ll see it fall again.”

Your boots are nearly destroyed, you think sadly, breaking through the line of trees. The constant damp has made them feel loose and crumbly on your feet, and you wonder if Cere has an old pair she’d sell you. So far she hasn’t accepted any money for the clothes or food she’s given you, but you’ve been thinking of exchanging some credits into Calamari flan and hiding them around the shop so she can’t refuse the money. There seems to be a pretty big population of Mon Calamari here, so you imagine she’d surely be able to make some use of the currency.

You pause at the edge of the forest, basket of food over your arm, watching Boba work with his back to you. He’s rebuilt the entire shield generator with his hands; painstakingly using a macrowelder to rejoin each of the small sections. His sleeves are rolled up to expose the taut lines of his forearms, and you watch as he lifts a power coupling into the gap over his head. Even through his shirt you can see the thick muscles in his back working under the weight of the metal.

Both your bodies have begun to soften in the weeks you’ve been here. For the first time in years, you’ve both actually taken the time to enjoy eating every meal; food, real food, not freeze-dried ration packs. Standing in the haze, watching him work, you let your imagination drift. Just for a moment, you can see it. You think about him older; the way the lines around his eyes and lips would deepen. The way his middle would thicken, if he were allowed to live slowly enough to know the pleasure of simple comforts. Your own hair would earn its silver, and you imagine the two of you lazy and happy, with fresh bread and vegetables for the rest of your lives. The way you’d sleep, knowing the small distinct joy in reaching out a hand in the darkness and knowing exactly where to find him.

A chill breeze winds from between the trees and you shiver lightly. Your gaze is drawn to the exposed skin at the back of his neck; his arms, his legs. His face. He looks incredibly vulnerable without any of his armour, and Cere’s words from weeks earlier bob to the surface of your thoughts.

“Especially not the bounty hunters. They don’t live long.”

He turns and catches sight of you, his head raising. “Did you get more of those spicy sea herbs?” he calls, light under the roughness of his usual drawl, and your heart squeezes. You force yourself to tamp down your frown as you close the distance back to him, showing him the latest small things you’d discovered in the town, listening as he outlines the work he’d finished and what still remains to be done. “Another week at the most. Then we’ll be out of here.”

You barely follow, mind still trudging through darker thoughts. You’re distracted with the remembered image of him bleeding on the floor of his ship while you’re preparing the sea vegetables and spice in a comforting broth. You won’t let anybody touch him again, you think to yourself, as you lean close against his body, your hands wrapped around the warm bowl of food. As soon as you can, you’ll get his contract settled. Whatever it takes. Then you’ll be free. Nobody will ever bother either of you again.

This refrain doesn’t leave your head as you climb up over him in the darkness of the ship later that night, dragging your teeth across his chest. You feel lightened with the tangible comfort of his close body, the heat solid and safe underneath you. Your hand reaches down to pump his cock, rougher than you’d intended in your haste. He groans, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist, trying to drag your hips lower as he thrusts up into your loose fist.

“Impatient tonight,” he breathes, amusement creeping through his drawl, and you are, desperate to feel him inside you, rolling your spine down. His cock slides through the folds of your cunt as you drag against him, and he palms your breast, ducking his head down to wrap his lips around your sensitive nipple. You shiver; bare skin cool in the dark ship. The low roar of rain on the hull muffles the sounds of your whimpers as he bites down gently, mouth hot around your breast.

“I missed you today,” you tell him. He growls low.

“I can tell. You want to show me how much?”

Your breath escapes in a quiet little huff as he hooks both arms down under your thighs, and you brace yourself on his chest before you overbalance. He drags you up, forcing your knees over his shoulders until your aching cunt is inches above his lips. You burn for a moment with the intimacy you have in this position when his hands wrap firmly over the tops of your legs and force your weight down, his tongue plunging inside you.

You gasp. Your palms press up at the wall above your head, holding yourself steady as his hold on you tightens, his fingers digging hard into your flesh. He grinds you down onto his tongue, his forearms braced over the tops of your legs so you can’t move an inch. His tongue works inside you, dragging and lapping against your g-spot and your thighs tremble around his face. The heat and wetness are exquisite, as fuck, he buries his tongue so deeply inside you that your walls clench. He lifts your weight easily with his spread hands, raising your hips and forcing them down again as he fucks up into you with his mouth.

It feels incredible, liquid ecstasy creeping up from your cunt into your lower stomach, and you curl over him, burying your fingers in his hair. You don’t know if he can hear you, with his ears pressed against your inner thighs, but you murmur breathily anyway.

“That’s so good, oh…fuck me, that’s good…” and as his open lips wrap around your clit, you’re drunk on the power of this; driving your hips down. He’s so fucking good as this, you think, so good at looking out for you, at making you feel like this, making you forget about all of the danger and terror when his tongue is inside you. Mindless, you hear yourself hiss out a low, jagged-edged, “Good boy,” as your fingernails rake against his head between your legs.

The growl it rips from his throat is harsh. He withdraws his tongue, lifting your hips slightly. His hand drives up from between your spread thighs, his fingers sinking knuckle-deep with a sharp wet glisten. Your inhalation is close to a squeal, as the savage motion of his fingers pistoning inside you forces your hips to rise and fall with your clit against his tongue faster and harder than before.

It’s brutal and you’d fall onto your face if he didn’t have such a firm grip on you, the tightness of your cunt catching around his fingers as your muscles clamp down. You’re blinded, everything below your waist unraveling in a hot burst of pleasure as your orgasm forces the air from your lungs. You come for an eternity; eyes rolled back in your head as you brace yourself against him, writhing and clawing, coming down slowly. You realise with a start that the high, short whimpers filling the space are coming from you.

Wobbly and soaked, he drops you onto your back with a rough little whumph. “What was that, little one?” he murmurs, dangerous as he hovers over you in the dim. He seizes your knees, forcing your still-trembling legs wide.

“I didn’t—it just sort of...slipped out. Did you not like me saying that?”

“You can call me whatever the fuck you want. Just remember next time what happens when you do.” And he reams into you, his cock driving through the wetness of your cunt so hard and deep you feel a catch in the base of your throat as he bottoms out. You keen, arching up into the stretch, and he lifts your hips off the tangle of blankets to deepen the angle, hooking your ankles over one shoulder.

He fucks you with unrestrained fervour, snarling and cursing low as he does. It’s almost too much: the stretch and pace ripping up through your chest. Your fluttering cunt is still oversensitive; and you know he knows it, but he seems to only be spurred on further by your sobbed little gasps, watching your face with a hard focus. You reach clumsily up, trying to find a part of him to hold onto as he pounds into you, and he catches one of your searching hands in his own, pressing it to his lips.

You can feel your own arousal slick on his mouth against your fingers as he kisses them, and your head tilts back limply. Every soft part of you is driven upwards to bounce back under each thrust; and he leans over you, his fingers digging hard into your jaw to hold your face still.

“Look at me,” he hisses, harsh and low, and you do, your teeth cutting into your lower lip. “I need you to come for me again—need to feel it, feel your hot little cunt,” and you can’t form words to answer him, a hitched wail escaping instead before you manage to cut it off.

He releases your face, curving his neck to look over your body spread out beneath him. He sucks air through his teeth before leaning down and spitting on the place where your bodies join; the heat of his saliva running down through your cunt to coat his own cock as it stretches you open. His fingers work through the slip at your clit, and you’re already shuddering, spine curving as you writhe upwards.

You come loudly, louder than you ever have before; a broken, rasped cry ripped from your lips as your palms smack flat against his chest. Your walls squeeze him; his cock twitching inside you at the pressure, and it pulls him over the edge along with you. His rhythm stutters and as he cums it completes you; aching and hot and filled, his panting warm across your face.

You both follow the other’s breaths until they slow, the sheen of sweat on your body beginning to chill as it cools. He eases himself out of you and you wince at his withdrawal; your cunt tender. His low chuckle is warm against you as he gently pushes the hair from your face, drawing one of the heaped blankets out from underneath you to wrap over your entwined bodies.

“Good girl.”

You fall asleep to the sound of the rain; comforting as it washes the hull of the ship clean.

Tags: @fuckyeahbeskar @bvcketfvcker @sithwitch-crosshairs-toothpick @hyperfixation-archives @lilylightdream @just-fics-i-read @phoenixhalliwell @justwastelandbabyy @tacticalsparkles @alucas528 @chromia7567 @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @tibbietibbs @justanothersadperson93

#a mutual arrangement #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x female reader #boba fett fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #zinzinina

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glimmerglanger · 3 years

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Sooo, I got this prompt from @anstarwar

Hi! I just stayed up til o’dark thirty finishing MYB and just had to hop over and say WOW. Love your writing! If you’re still taking prompts for supplemental stories I’m super curious what happened to Bly when he “woke up?” I just can’t help but think it’d be so devastating for him....I wanna give him a hug....anyways thank you!

AND OOOOF. Well, it’s not going to be a...happy time? For anyone? You’re probably going to want to give him more of a hug after this?

This snippet deals a lot with mind-control related trauma, being forced to kill someone against your will, suicidal ideation/a suicide attempt, and survivor’s guilt. People don’t always handle trauma in a neat and tidy way. This is… NOT neat and tidy, anger is one stage of grief, and something people who are hurt lash out, so lots of warnings for all of that. Past Blyla. A lot of hurt.

~~~~

Bly had some information to work with, by the time the thing in his head just stopped working, between one breath and the next. The thing had controlled his body for a timeless stretch, piloting him around the ship, to his quarters and to the bridge.

It read all the reports issued by the Imperial Command, and so Bly saw them, too.

He’d read that the Vigilance had been taken, taken by traitors in a mutiny, and he’d wanted to cheer, because of course Cody had found a way out, a way around the things in their head.

He’d read that the Emperor wanted the heads of CC-2224 and the traitor Kenobi and so he’d known, too, that General Kenobi had somehow survived. That Cody had been strong enough to - to not pull the trigger on the Jedi he loved.

Not like Bly, who had leveled his blaster on Aayla’s back and squeezed the trigger and--

He wished he could grab his blaster again, but his body fought him, over and over again, until it just stopped.

Bly was standing on the bridge when the thing in his head just...went away. There was no warning, no way for him to prepare. One moment, there were restraints around every piece of him and the next they were just gone.

Someone whimpered, across the bridge as Bly stared forward, breathing raggedly, swaying on his feet. His hand moved, automatically, towards the blaster at his hip. His fingers curled around the grip and he had it in hand before Ambler hit him around the chest and bore him to the floor, panting, “Don’t - don’t - please.”

“Get off of me,” Bly rasped out and they were poor first words, ragged and wet. He couldn’t breathe properly. His eyes stung and burned. The entire world had gone blurry. He reached for the blaster again - he’d shot Aayla in the back, his General, his everything, he’d shot her in the back and--

“I can’t,” Ambler said, knee on Bly’s wrist, the weight making his fingers spasm open. “I can’t, sir, I’m sorry.”

And Bly tried to say something, anything, else, but the words wouldn’t come, not for a long time.

Ambler refused to give Bly his blaster back, even after Bly got his breathing under control. Bly stared at him, the initial surge of emotion that had come with freedom fading away. He could control it. He had to control it.

Ambler had done the right thing, Bly decided, behind his helmet. He had things he needed to do, before he--

Made up for things.

He shook that thought aside. His brothers needed him. They didn’t have a General anymore - he’d seen to that - which meant--which meant they needed Bly to keep them safe. To help them figure out what to do.

He cleared his throat, ignoring the tears drying all over his cheeks under his helmet, and ordered the nat-borns on the ship restrained. And then he started looking for the Vigilance. Cody had gotten them free, he had no doubt. Somehow, the crazy son of a bantha had freed them all, and--

And he was wanted by the Empire. Kriff, they were probably all about to be wanted by the Empire.

Which meant they needed to be together. They’d be safer in greater numbers. “We had a message about some kind of attack on Kamino,” Burr said, from across the bridge, as they tried to figure out where to go. “But the message got cut off.”

“Head there,” Bly said, his voice a ragged mess. It was as good a place to go as any.

They found ruination on Kamino, but no sign of Cody or the Vigilance. No sign of any of their little brothers. Whatever had happened on the planet was long over by the time they dropped out of hyperspace.

But there was a buoy, tiny and transmitting on a strange frequency. Circuitboard decoded it while Bly sat in his quarters, staring at the wall, trying not to think of anything, definitely not the way Aayla had looked in his bunk, blue skin peeking out from beneath drab gray blankets, lekku curling softly with pleasure, and--

The buoy was transmitting coordinates, Circuitboard said, when he commed Bly. Bly looked down to find that he’d torn his sheets into long strips. He’d been twisting them, winding them into a long rope.

He stared down at his shaking hands, just for a moment, and gave the order to head to the coordinates, rising to his feet. He felt he should be on the bridge, at least for the start of their journey.

By the time he got back to his quarters, someone had taken away the damaged sheets. They’d taken away a lot of things. The room looked almost bare. Prickle - his new medic - was waiting inside the room, arms crossed, and said, “I can stay in here with you, or you can come to the medbay with me, the choice is yours.”

“Do what you want,” Bly told him, hollow inside, and curled up on the bare bed, not thinking about Aayla’s fingers stroking over his brow or the marks on his cheeks or--

Or anything else.

Cody left them a trail of breadcrumbs to follow, like they were playing one of the hunt-and-find games they’d indulged in back on Kamino, years ago. Cody’d always been better at hunting than hiding.

Maybe that was still true, because Bly found the Vigilance in orbit around an ugly gas giant on the borders of Wild Space, a small little flotilla around it. There were two other Venator-class ships by the Vigilance, and for a beat Bly wondered if the entire thing was an Imperial trap, his he and his brothers were about to be shot out of the sky.

He didn’t raise their shields.

And a moment later familiar voices came over the comms, shouting words of welcome and relief.

Cody insisted that Bly come over to the Vigilance. Bly wasn’t sure he technically had to obey Cody’s orders, anymore, but if anyone was in charge of all of them, it had to be Cody, and so he went.

He stared at the wall of the shuttle, even after it landed. He managed to get to his feet when Cody opened the rear hatch, turning to look at his brother - his batchmate - opening his mouth and then closing it again, before asking, “How the kriff did you do it?”

Cody looked back at him, expression tightly controlled, and said, “It’s a long story.”

Bly just stared at him. He felt...hollow inside. Cody winced, a little, and then exhaled. “Come on,” Cody said, reaching out and gripping his shoulder, “I’ll tell you.”

Bly listened to all of it. He had a feeling, deep in his head, that Cody wasn’t going into the details, but it didn’t really matter. Bly got the gist of it. Cody really had saved his Jedi. Nearly blown up his head to do it, but he had, while Bly had drawn his blaster and--

“Where is he?” Bly asked, sitting in General Kenobi’s quarters - the ones Cody had been living in for years - and staring forward, eyes burning.

“On the bridge,” Cody said, with a little shrug.

Bly nodded. He remembered what Aayla had looked like, last time she’d been on the bridge, her eyes tired as she looked over holos, one hand bandaged from a fall, lovely and alive and--

“I should get back,” Bly said, standing, because his men were in Cody’s care, now, and, obviously, Cody would take better care of them. Cody’d almost killed himself, proving that, while Bly had just raised his blaster and pulled the trigger and--

“You’re going to stay here,” Cody said, like it wasn’t even a question, in the same tone that had led to them fighting more than once when they were shinies on Kamino, Cody always thinking everyone should just listen to him-- “Catch me up on everything. Get some rest, for a day or two.”

“With all due respect,” Bly said, tone too flat to be sharp, “I’m rested plenty.”

“I talked to Prickle,” Cody said, and Bly wondered why, staring forward, not looking at Cody, even when Cody tried to step into his field of view.

“That so?” Bly asked, trying to muster the energy to care and failing. He should have cared about them whispering about him behind his back, but he just--

Didn’t.

“That’s so,” Cody said. “And so you’re staying here.”

“Fine,” Bly said, gaze flicking momentarily towards the blaster at Cody’s hip. “Whatever you say, sir.”

He caught Cody’s wince out of the corner of his eyes, and a part of him wanted to apologize immediately but-- He’d done so much worse. Things he’d never be able to apologize for, he’d lifted his blaster and--

“Good,” Cody said, firm. “Let’s get some dinner.”

Bly pushed mush around his plate. He ate a bite, maybe two. His appetite had died with everything else that mattered, systems and systems away from where he currently was.

Cody made noises about him needing to eat more, but he’d just have to live with what Bly could manage, unless he planned to bring in a tube and force it down Bly’s throat. Maybe he would. Bly considered the idea dispassionately.

In the end, Cody just frowned over him and took Bly back to his quarters. Cody brought along an extra meal, and something in Bly’s gut twisted hard, just looking at it. He felt like there was something inside him, a dam, perhaps, and that it was starting to crack, all down the middle.

He didn’t want to know what was on the other side of it.

“Why don’t you get in the fresher,” Cody said, and Bly shrugged. The fresher looked the same as the one he’d used for years. There was even a Jedi robe hanging on one of the hooks along the wall and for a moment he could imagine--

But it wasn’t Aayla’s. The weave was too heavy. And she’d preferred darker, richer colors. Earth tones. He stared at his fingers, clenched in the fabric, and made himself release it with a shudder. He took off his armor. Set it aside. Stepped under the water.

Aayla had loved the decadence of a water shower. She’d insisted he join her in one, more than once, the two of them wedged in together, laughing as they jostled for space and it always ended with her in his arms, hands sliding on the slippery walls, her fingers clenching at his shoulders, and--

He’d shot her. In the back. Hadn’t even hesitated. Ordered her body pushed into a shallow grave and she’d probably been ravaged by scavengers and--

Bly jerked out from under the water. He dried off, pulled back on a set of blacks that looked clean. Cody’s, he assumed. They mostly fitted; after years of different experiences, their bodies were no longer exactly the same. They’d built muscle differently. Some of them were stronger than others.

Cody had managed to fight the thing in his head.

And Bly had--

He tried to hold together the splintering dam inside his head, stepping back out into the main room. He wondered where Cody expected him to sleep, and the consideration fell out of his head when he realized they weren’t alone anymore.

Cody was sitting on the end of the bunk, talking to General Kenobi, low and earnestly. And Kenobi--

Was alive. Standing there in his tunic, his hair with more white in it around the temples than Bly recalled, a lightsaber on his belt. And seeing him split the widening cracks in Bly’s chest even further. He felt his jaw grinding as Kenobi looked up and over at him, inclining his head a little as he said, “Commander, I’m...so sorry, I--”

Kenobi cut off at a sharp, ragged-edged sound. Bly realized after a moment that it was coming from him. Laughter.

Kenobi shifted his weight back, just a little, as Bly rasped out, “You’re sorry?”

He was distantly aware of Cody standing up, reaching out and putting a hand on Kenobi’s stomach. But that seemed like it was happening somewhere else. Everything, the entire world, was Kenobi’s expression, his too-wide eyes and the way all the color had washed out of his face.

“Bly,” Cody started, and Bly felt his mouth twist up, felt the last little pieces of resistance in his chest wash away.

“You’re sorry?” Bly repeated, taking a step forward. “She’s dead and--you’re sorry? You?”

Kenobi took a step back. “I--”

“It isn’t fair,” Bly snapped, moving closer, and oh, it wasn’t, nothing about this was fair, it was brutal and wrong and -- “She’s dead, and you’re still here. Still just fine, aren’t you? Just like always? And you’re sorry?”

Cody stepped between them, one hand extended out towards Bly, mouth moving when he said, “That’s--”

“Why did you get to live?” Bly demanded, trying to bat Cody’s hand out of the way. Cody grunted and reached to grab him. “When she died? Why couldn’t it have been her? Just -- it should have been her, not you, she was--”

His words cut off when his shoulders hit the wall, both Cody’s hands in the front of his blacks, something dark and snapping in Cody’s eyes when he snarled, “That’s enough. Not another kriffing word, do you hear me?”

Bly opened his mouth, and never got a chance to say anything, because Cody jerked back from him at the sound of retching from the fresher. Cody swore, viciously, and pushed him against the wall again. “You stay right there,” Cody snapped, heading for the fresher, reaching for his comm and spitting something into it that Bly didn’t hear.

When Bones showed up, a few moments later, to collect him, Bly went along willingly enough. Whatever anger had moved through him had dissipated as quickly as it had come. He just felt… empty again. Completely empty.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #make your bed lie in it #snippets #post fic #lots of hurt not really comfort #suicidal ideation and an attempt #survivor's guilt #fall out from mind control

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years

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General Hux x Female Reader/Kylo Ren x Female Reader

A/N: I’ve been so ill recently I’ve read this chapter so many times the words blur together. It’s time to let it go!

Warnings: Force use, nausea mention, Hux is livid, Kylo is annoyed. Shits about to hit the fan.

Word Count: 2677

Read Chapter 16 here on AO3 here.

Hux had showered, was dressed and downstairs flicking through his datapad before you even surfaced. He had on a clean uniform and his coat was resting on his shoulders. As he sat in the kitchen sipping some black caf.

“Meilli?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Can you go and help her get dressed? I really should be leaving soon.” She dipped her head before scurrying away to find you. Beldon, came in through the side door, shaking out the umbrella before placing it in the stand.

“Did you intercept it?” Hux asked curtly, not even looking up.

“Yes Grand Marshal, I did.” Now Hux did look up, seeing the datastick resting in his housekeeper's hand. “What shall I do with it, Sir?”

“I shall take it back with me and analyse it on the Finalizer.”

“May I speak freely?” Hux paused for a moment before nodding. “Why don’t you leave it for My Lady to find and see what she does with it? I think she is loyal, Sir.” Hux frowned. He wanted you to be loyal, he didn’t want to think you’d been here on Arkanis conversing with Resistance sympathisers, but the rumours of them infiltrating First Order occupied worlds were getting too loud to ignore.

“Alright, put it with her stuff.” He rose when he heard you coming down the stairs, his heart he noticed was steady, not racing away with itself like it usually did. You saw him, your eyes full of sadness at the idea of him leaving until you saw the crate resting on the kitchen floor.

“That’s mine,” you stated nervously.

“Yes, you’re coming with me.” He murmured before placing a kiss on your head.

“But Armitage….I can’t.” Your voice was desperate as you clutched the edge of his coat. “The Supreme Leader…”

“Leave Ren to me.” His expression softened slightly in the face of your obvious panic. “I cannot be parted from you again.”

“Ok.” It was barely a whisper and you buried your face into his chest not wanting to be parted from him either.

The ride in the shuttle was quiet, the white lights of hyperspace flickered through the ship highlighting Hux’s profile as he carried on reading his datapad, catching up and whatever he had missed by being on Arkanis.

“How is Mitaka?” You waited for a response but it was clear his mind was elsewhere. “Armitage?” You said softly, making his head snap up in irritation.

“Oh, yes he can’t wait to see you,” he murmured offhandedly and you decided to settle back and endure the rest of the ride in quiet. You just wanted some conversation to try and dull the rising panic that had begun to weave its way through you like smoke. Slow and steady with each passing parsec it grew thicker the closer you got to Kylo Ren.

You tried not to look like you were staying close to Hux but you bumped his shoulder a couple of times when you both came down the ramp, instantly you looked around for a large brooding figure coming for you and your husband but there was nothing except some stormtroopers and Mitaka. His face broke out into a smile when he saw you before turning to Hux.

“Lieutenant, please escort my wife to my chambers. I have a meeting to get to.” You watched Hux stride off without so much as a glance in your direction and you frowned. Something was wrong…or maybe he was just nervous having you back on the ship.

“Are you ready?” You smiled again.

“Yes Dopheld, I am.” You linked your arm with him letting him chat randomly as he led you to the Grand Marshal’s quarters.

Your crate was delivered and you started unpacking once the Lieutenant had excused himself. As you pulled out some clothing to hang up something fell to the floor, you frowned seeing a datastick come to a stop over by the table. At first you had assumed it belonged to Hux and you put it on the table but something was niggling at you. It had been in your crate and he had no luggage, so why would his items get mixed within yours? You tried to ignore it but then you had the thought what if it was something to do with the estate? Letting loose a sigh of resignation you plugged it into the holotable, watching as it delved into the port. A holoimage flickered to life and began to play a message, you didn’t recognise the person or their voice and you wondered if this was actually Hux’s after all.

“Thank you for plugging this stick in, you are well on your way to becoming a Resistance member! My name is Poe Dameron, make a note of that I want them to know who is stealing all the First Order codes and secrets as we speak….” The world came crashing down around you and you flew for the port, scrabbling to pull out the stick but it had fixed itself into the table, tears clouded your vision and you gasped in wild panic. Could this be traced through the ship? This was Hux’s personal holotable, everything would be on here, everything.

“No! No no no no!” You felt anger filter through your obvious panic, you had told Anika no. You had told her you wouldn’t betray Armitage no matter if you were married or not and yet here you were, betraying your husband, the First Order and everything you believed in.

“You might just want to check no ones coming for you, if they are, give this to the first trooper that asks for it and the stick of secrets will find its way to us. The Finalizer is our playground.” The man said smugly in the image. “Commander Poe Dameron over and out!” The stick jolted up, releasing its hold on the port and you grabbed it out ready to throw it away from you when there was a hurried knock at the door. You froze, only the sound of your heart reached your ears and you waited for whoever it was to go away but they tapped smartly on the door again. You put the stick behind your back and opened the door, a lone trooper stood there, his helmet tilted to the side at the sight of you.

“You’re the spy?” He hissed in disbelief.

“I’m no spy!” You demanded and he held his hands out to shush you.

“Do you have it? The stick?”

“This?” You flinched as he wrenched it from your grasp and hurried without another word down the corridor. A sense of relief washed over you, now it was gone you could feint all ignorance.

The more time marched on the more confident you became that what you’d accidentally done had gone unnoticed. You were pouring a cup of caf when Hux returned, you smiled asking if he wanted a cup stopping when you saw him looking at your almost empty crate. His expression was hard and his eyes seemed to be searching for something, your smile faltered.

“What’s wrong? Are you looking for something?” You asked a little too brightly.

“A datastick.”

“Oh! Was that yours? A trooper came by asking for it so I thought you’d sent him to come and get it. I did wonder why it was in my…”

“No it wasn’t mine.” You clamped your mouth shut, his eyes like two burning lasers on your face as he advanced towards you.

“Oh,” you swallowed nervously. “Whose was it then?” You leaned away from him slightly when he came to a stop right in front of you, he seemed to tower over you more than normal, if he was being intimidating it was working.

“Yours.” He spat it at you almost, making you flinch slightly.

“I don’t know….”

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO LIE TO ME!” You cowered, your hands clutching the chair as fear roiled inside you.

“Armitage you’re frightening me!” He grabbed your clothing at the shoulder, pulling you up and close to his furious face, the red blush that he always got when angry had already reached the tips of his ears.

“I’m not even the most terrifying one,” he snarled in your ear. “I’m so…” his voice broke and you sneaked a look at his face. His eyes were slightly pleading through the anger and you felt your heart fracture at the expression.

“Armitage, I promise….” You shut your mouth abruptly as he shook you harshly.

“You are such a disappointment to me.” You gasped when he hauled you through the door, your feet almost dragging along the floor and you struggled to keep up with him. Stormtroopers watched with interest at their Grand Marshal dragging you down the corridors, many moving sharply aside as Hux stormed past them. He stopped at a conference room, the door opened and before you could register what was happening he threw you into the room with a strength that was hidden by his slim form. Air expelled from you abruptly when you collided with the floor, you curled up against the pain that exploded through your abdomen and you saw a pair of black leather boots enter your line of sight. Slowly he crouched before you, the mask covered his face but it was different, red glowing lines marked the surface giving him a more frightful appearance.

“What do we have here, Grand Marshal?” His voice was so similar as it slithered out of the vocoder but no less dangerous, your eyes stared back into the sightless pits trying not to give away how terrified you were.

“The traitor we’ve been looking for,” your husband spat vehemently.

“No!” You cried out. “I’ve been on Arkanis, how could it be me?” Kylo tilted his mask to look up at Hux.

“You’re the one who brought her on board.” He said calmly, noticing how Hux rocked back on his heels as though Kylo had punched him. “Maybe you’re in this together.”

“Supreme Leader I can assure you….” Kylo raised a finger to point at Hux, halting his words.

“I shall interrogate her, and you’re next.” He stated. A pair of troopers grabbed your arms and dragged you upright, you shot a terrified look at Hux but he refused to even acknowledge you, his face pinched and angry that he could even be associated with this. With you.

“Armitage!” The cry fell from you in the vain hope he’d just look at you.

“While I deal with her, maybe you could oversee the capture of the rogue trooper before I strip you of everything.” Hux turned sharply and left you. He didn’t even glance in your direction, he just left you at the mercy of the most powerful man in the Galaxy.

“Now, where shall we begin?”

“No Kylo please…!” But your begging was futile. His hand outstretched towards you and you tried to recoil but the troopers held you steady. Pain blossomed behind your eyes even though you tried to block him it was no good, he had grown even more powerful and he easily broke down your meagre boundaries. Faces, so many faces all from Arkanis, the wedding, Oakley….Kylo happily replayed the moment where Hux had interrupted the almost kiss and you could feel his amusement. “Go ahead! Laugh! You made me do this!” You gasped through the searing pain as he delved deeper.

“I didn’t make you do anything,” he rumbled. The words brought up the image of the surprised trooper at your door and Kylo controlled the memory, almost rewinding it making your stomach heave with nausea. “Hold her!” He snapped at the troopers who had clearly moved away thinking you were going to be sick.

“The Finalizer is our playground…” Poe’s words lingered in your mind as Kylo withdrew and you sagged heavily. He gestured for the troopers to leave, they left you leaning against the table, the room spinning as you tried to get your bearings. Kylo paced up and down before coming to a stop and removing his mask. His hazel eyes watched you slump to the floor, he placed his mask on the table with a thump before crouching down to your level again.

“The Resistance seems to have a claim on my ship.”

“It’s Armitage’s ship,” you managed to say between breaths. He rolled his lips, his jaw flexing, the muscle under his eye twitching.

“Still so loyal, even when he is not,” he retorted softly.

“What…what do you mean?” His eyes studied your face before responding.

“Who do you think planted it in your luggage?” You shook your head and wished you hadn’t, your brain felt like it had detached and you winced.

“My luggage had passed through so many troopers before it made its way to me and then it was in the house on Arkanis.”

“You think I am willing to blame my own army…” he started but you cut across him.

“You’re willing to blame the one man who controls them.” You snapped quickly.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” he snarled.

“He came and got me, he chose me over all this.” Kylo smirked before standing to his full height.

“Yes, he really chose you over all this.” He said copying your words. “That’s why he’s here fighting your corner,” he pointed out snarkily. You felt defeated, he was right, but you refused to believe Hux would turn on you so quickly….like you had turned on him.

“Oh…” you looked imploringly at him as realisation struck you. “Oh!” The sobs smacked painfully into your chest, Kylo stood there, indifference written all over his face and watched as you cried. No emotion showed on his features as he let you wind down of your own accord before continuing.

“He has had many months to plan this, to set you up. He followed the rumours of Resistance sympathisers all the way back, to, you,” he pointed out.

“No I swear! I barely spoke to anyone on Arkanis! I dealt with the death of my father and the selling of the house before…before…”

“Attending the wedding of your good friend Anika Elloway.” He strode away from you, his cloak swaying. Your mind raced as you watched him, they had been watching you the whole time but who? Beldon. He knew your every coming and going because you’d trusted him, because he had run the house, because he was loyal to the family.

“I didn’t…” you closed your eyes and fisted your hand as you remembered Anika asking to speak with you at the wedding but there were ears. You had refused all details from her after she declared Oakley was looking to marry. Yes you had needed to find a new husband but you didn’t want to help the Resistance and you had told her as such. You’d gone in all your First Order glory but they still had tried to set you up and now you were taking the fall for a group of people who didn’t care about you at all. “I had no idea…” your gaze rose to Kylo, taking in the back of his head as he looked out of the viewport. “You have to believe me Kylo!” You pleaded.

“You will be detained in a cell until we can decide what to do with you.”

“No! Please!” You cried out as the troopers reentered to retrieve you off the floor, but your cries went unheard. Hopelessness coloured your world the further they dragging you into the ship until you were thrown unceremoniously into a dark cell. Huddling in a corner when the door slammed shut on you, echoing through the room leaving you in no doubt there was no room for escape. There was no one to save you, Hux had thrown you to the mercy of the First Order and the taped up cracks in your heart reshattered. How could you be so stupid? So naive? But still, you clutched to the small slither of hope that Hux wouldn’t let any harm come to you.

#star wars #echoes of the heart #general hux x female reader #general hux x you #general hux/reader #general hux/you #general hux x reader #general hux/female reader #armitage hux x female reader #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux/female reader #armitage hux/you #armitage hux/reader #general hux angst #kylo ren #my writing #mylifeisactuallyamess

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alexismusictrek · 3 years

Text

FANFICTION/STAR TREK: VOYAGER

FICTOBER: “The things you make me do…”

WHUMPTOBER: “That’s gonna leave a mark…”

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

Kathryn Janeway paced around her ready room, wearing holes into the carpet. Of all the times the universe could have picked to be funny, it had to be now. One second she was nearly asleep, listening to Icheb drone on about Starfleet history, and the next there was not one but two Q’s bouncing on and off on her damn ship. The younger one had already turned Voyager into a rave, and a disaster zone. How much more could they take?

After Neelix’s ordeal, the Borg, and Oprelian amoeba, Kathryn was at her wits end. She had a sudden thought, maybe she was to be the one to wrangle this infantile Q into understanding what it meant to be human. Chakotay had seemed pretty smug after his attempt at diplomacy had failed, so naturally, she had to prove him wrong.

“Q, why don’t you join me on the holodeck?”

“What for?”

“I thought we should play a little game.”

“Games are for children.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, you are among those children.”

“But…”

“No buts. Get changed and meet me in holodeck 2 in 10. We’re gonna see how good your human hand-eye coordination is in Velocity.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Q lumbered away like a sad dog.

When Kathryn walked onto the holodeck, she wasn’t surprised to find that her protégé had beaten her there, and had made the Velocity court a little more colorful.

“Q!”

“Aunt Kathy! What do you think?” He looked proud of the tie-dyed pattern plastered across the walls.

“I think you need to change the parameters back to my original programming.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

“There will be no fun if you don’t listen.”

“Alright, alright. But can we at least keep the new discs?” He held up the blindingly bright yellow apparatus.

“Okay, but I’m not going to take it easy on you.”

“Oh, please. I would expect nothing less.”

Kathryn ordered the computer to begin the program, and she immediately ducked the first volley. Aiming her phaser thusly and taking a shot, she easily won the round. Not believing for a split second that he’d allow that to happen, she jumped up, firming her stance for the next start.

“You never give up, do you, Aunt Kathy?”

“Why should I? We’ve got a long way to go yet.”

The computer beeped, and another disk appeared in the center of the room. Q felt the wind off of it as it whizzed by his head, and quickly turned as it clanged against the tritanium scaffold behind him. He aimed to shoot but realized at the last second it was too late to get off a scoring shot. He ducked and instantly winced as he heard the saucer firmly plant into his godmother.

“Dammit!” She hollered.

The young Q slowly spun to find her bent over at the waist, hand over her nose, blood pouring to the floor. Suddenly a feeling he’d never experienced before washed over him. Tapping the combadge on his chest, he jumped into action.

“Help! Doctor…uh…Q to Commander Chakotay!”

“What is it, Q?”

“The Captain! She’s hurt badly!”

Chakotay didn’t respond, but in an instant, the familiar blue light of the transporter engulfed both Q and Kathryn. When they materialized, Doc was perched and waiting for an absolute disaster. When he found that the Captain was in one piece, but bleeding profusely, he breathed a holographic sigh of relief and went to work. Just as Kathryn was lifted onto a biobed, Chakotay sped through the doors of sickbay.

“Kath…Captain!”

“Hold your fire, Commander. She’ll be fine as soon as I heal this fractured nasal ridge.” Doc interjected.

“How did this happen?” Chakotay turned to Q.

Another wave of that feeling hit, and as Q tried to speak, he stammered. “It was an accident, I swear. We were playing Velocity and…”

“Save it!” Chakotay belted. “You’re confined to quarters until I decide what to do with you.”

“But…”

“Go! Or do I need to call security?”

“I’m going, I’m going.” The boy turned and trudged towards the door. Just before he exited, he turned back. “I’m sorry, Aunt Kathy.” Before she could respond, he stepped beyond the doors.

“You didn’t have to be so hard on him, Chakotay.” Her voice was pinched.

“Look at you, Kathryn. That’s gonna leave a mark.” He reached over the doctor and stroked her cheek.

“Believe it or not, it really was an accident. He ducked at the right time and I didn’t.”

“That’s not like you on the Velocity court.”

“I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“Doc, are you sure she’s going to be okay?”

“There!” He pulled his osteo-regenerator back in confidence. “You’re as good as new, but you’ll be tender for a bit, Captain. Next time, be aware of your surroundings.”

“Yes, sir.” She said mockingly.

The Doctor smirked and quickly left to update her medical file. Chakotay stepped squarely in front of her and surveyed the repaired damage.

“At least my failure didn’t result in broken bones.”

Kathryn slapped his arm. “Maybe you should take him boxing next time.”

“I’ll reserve that for his father.”

“Now that’s the best plan I’ve heard all day.” She winked.

Chakotay ran his hand through her hair. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Stop worrying, I’ll be fine.”

He looked around sickbay, making sure the coast was clear. When he found no one but the doctor in his office, he swiftly leaned forward and melded his lips with hers. She easily accepted his affections but didn’t let them last too long.

“Don’t you have a bridge to run?”

“Yes ma’am…” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dinner at 2100?”

“As always, love.”

#fictober21 #no.13 #whumptober2021 #ouch ouch ouch #jcforever #star trek #jc fanfic #kathryn janeway #chakotay #jcdeservedbetter

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doomed-corruption-au · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER 1: The Return

Steven’s whole world was spinning.

The sky had run green, the lighting reflected off of the massive ship in the sky. It looked like the upper torso of a person, but why it was green was a mystery. The ship itself looked white, actually. But, when it showed up, the gems freaked out anyway.

Lapis had sent them a message. In it, she was really freaked out, bringing the premonition that the Diamonds were leaving the planet and heading to Earth. Steven didn’t know who they were, but the gems had really... changed over the past two days or so they had to prepare. Whoever these “Diamonds” were, they sounded important.

When he saw the gems with his luggage, ready to help him evacuate with Dad, that was when he knew that things were serious. They had finally started letting him come on missions. He was becoming useful, and that meant being out on the field! But, if they thought he couldn’t handle this, then...

He shook his head. No. He was able to do this. He had to help them, protect them. Just like Mom.

Dad had told him that story in the car, about the gem war. The fact that they saved the world, but the punishment for it was, well, the corrupted gems. “If it wasn’t for her shield, man, I don’t know.” Those words bounced around in Steven’s head. Mom was the only reason Garnet and Pearl were okay. She saved them. And now, she wasn’t here. She was gone, and it was now his duty to save them.

He’d left a message to Connie letting her know what was going on. He hoped she stayed safe, too.

Lion opened a warp, and the two leaped in.

It only took a moment to warp to the beach house again. Lion landed hand on his paws, skidding a bit as he slowed. Steven leaped off his back as fast as he could, giving the furry animal a pat on the shoulder.

“Stay here, Lion,” he commanded his friend. “If something happens, Dad’ll need a new son.”

Lion chuffed at him as he turned and ran away. Steven hoped that was an “okay.” Dad had told him that if something happened, he’d “run fresh outta family.” Well, he and Lion got along well, so the replacement seemed good!

Not the time. Steven shook his head. Nothing was going to happen. He had Mom’s shield! He could do this!

The scene was tense. Amethyst and Pearl had fused into Opal, who now had her bow at the ready. Garnet stood nearby, adjusting her glasses every couple of seconds. Then, at Garnet’s command, Opal’s arrow let loose, shooting into the sky towards the ship. There was a flash of light as impact happened, and a few seconds later, a loud boom followed, but the ship looked completely unharmed.

“Hey guys!” Steven ran up to them, waving. If they were struggling, he could help them! Should be easy!

Opal and Garnet spun around, and at the sight of him, the former split apart. Pearl and Amethyst tumbled away from each other.

“You came back!” Amethyst cried in delight.

“What are you doing?!” Pearl’s expression was far more stricken.

Steven opened his mouth to answer, but a bright flash of light in the sky cut him off. The Crystal Gems all whipped around to look at the ship. It was still super far away, and the brightness was making it incredibly difficult to see. It looked like the light was starting at the chest of the ship, getting brighter and brighter.

“What is that?” Steven cocked his head to the side.

Garnet gasped. She turned around, ripping her visor off. “STEVEN! RUN!”

“Wha- WHY?” Steven yelled back. “I wanna help you guys! I have Mom’s-”

“You don’t understand!” Garnet’s head whipped back around to face the flash, which was growing in intensity. “Steven, don’t argue, just GO!”

“No!” Steven ran towards her, towards the oddly beautiful light. You could no longer see the ship behind it. He ran in front of the gems, standing defensively. “I have Mom’s shield! I can DO this!”

He concentrated. His gem didn’t feel any different, no warmth coming from it like what usually happened when his powers began to work. It was silent.

The light grew brighter, starting to pulse a bit. Flashes of yellow and blue traced the edges of the glow, rotating around like a hurricane.

“STEVEN!” Garnet jumped in front of him, meeting his two eyes with her three. She looked panicked, far more so than he’d ever seen her before. “Steven, PLEASE!”

Pearl and Amethyst ran up behind him. “We all have to get out of here!” Pearl yelled. “Garnet, it looks like-”

A loud whirring noise cut her off. Everyone turned to the light, assuming defensive positions. Steven’s eyes widened. It was suddenly coming closer, and FAST.

Please work, he begged with himself. He strained, standing up taller, trying to focus on getting his gem to work. He didn’t know what this attack was, or what it would do, but he didn’t wanna find out. Please work, please work, please work, please work.

“It’s too late to run,” Pearl murmured from his left. “We’re out of time.”

Suddenly, Steven felt hands around his torso. Garnet lifted him into the air, spinning around and crouching down so she was facing away from the beam, with her back exposed.

“Wait, Garnet! I can do it!” Steven struggled in her arms. “I can do it!”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back, hushed. Steven almost didn’t hear her. He stopped trying to get away, instead trying to turn to look at her. Her three eyes were blown wide, tears starting to come down her cheek. “We failed.”

“Wh-”

Everything went bright.

Garnet vanished from behind Steven, seemingly into thin air. The only thing that marked her disappearance was a short scream, cut off prematurely. Pearl and Amethyst were the same, yelling out in shock and pain for only a second before their voices cut out completely.

With Garnet out of the way, Steven could see why. It BURNED. The light closed around him so brightly, he almost couldn’t see his own hands. It wrapped around him, closing in on his gem. It began to flare up in response, sending fire up his nerves. He was so focused on how much it hurt, that his own voice disappeared around him.

It lasted probably only a few seconds, but it was enough. His gem felt like it was an ignited coal, he had a massive headache, and his body was trembling too much for him to even think about moving anywhere.

He fell on his hands and knees, then collapsed onto his side. His world went from burning white to pitch black in an instant. He heard nothing, not even the waves hitting the shore. His head hurt, so badly, but after a moment, everything... stopped.

- - - - - -

“Hey Connie, it’s Steven.”

Connie Sat on the edge of the counter, nervously watching for her mom to round the corner. If she got caught, she’d probably get yelled at. Her attention was more focused on the recording of her best friend’s voice, though.

“Just seeing what you were up to,” he continued. “Uh, dunno if you knew, but there’s some crazy stuff going on with a giant woman in the sky and we all might die, so um, I guess just give me a call back when you get this, and see you soon!”

What.

Connie leaped off the counter and reached for the phone as fast as she could. She dialed his number, forcing herself to slow down so she didn’t mistype it, and held her breath as his phone rang.

One ring, no answer. Then two. Then three. After the sixth, the call went to voicemail.

Connie shook her head. “No no no,” she said out loud. “No, that can’t be right. H-he’s gotta be exaggerating, right?”

“Who are you talking to, Connie?” Dr. Maheswaran was standing at the bottom of the stairs, eyebrow raised in confusion.

She was very tempted to playback the recording Steven had left for her, but she knew if her mom heard it, she’d stop letting her see Steven altogether. So instead, she swallowed. “Steven,” she replied.

Dr. Maheswaran hummed. “Alright. Is... something going on? You sounded stressed out for a second.”

Shoot! Connie hesitated, wondering what she should do. “Um,” she started shakily, “...yeah. He wants me to go over there so I can help him out. Is, is that okay?”

Mom sighed, her dislike of the boy no secret, but after a moment of thought, she nodded. “Okay. Do you want us to drive you there, or are you going to take a bus?”

“I’ll take the bus,” she answered a little too quickly. “Thank you though!”

Before her mom could get in another word, Connie had slipped into her red boots and vanished out the door, bus card in hand.

The ride itself was an excruciatingly long twenty minutes, but for different reasons that usual. On the way, she pulled out her flip phone and tried again.

Six rings, then voicemail.

She tried two more times; the same results.

When they FINALLY pulled up in Beach City, Connie was the first off of the bus. She ran as fast as she could, hoping to the sun and back that Steven was okay. He had to be. She couldn’t imagine a world without him in it.

The bus dropped her off near the center of town- not the best, but it wasn’t too far away from Steven’s house. Heat be damned, she was not stopping until he was embraced in a hug.

When she rounded the corner of the cliff, she froze, the previous vow undermined immediately.

The sand was stirred up, the water coming further up the beach than normal. It coated the bottom of the house, hiding the bushes beneath waves of yellow. The water splashed violently as well, as if tremoring from an earthquake. The Temple looked mostly unharmed at first, but upon further inspection, the statue of Obsidian looked far more rounded than it should. Far more smooth, like it’d been polished or sandpaper-ed (there had to be a word for that).

Connie saw none of it.

Her eyes were drawn to the little lump on the ground. The lump was half covered in sand, but she would recognize that brown hair anywhere, even if his red shirt was a lighter pink for some reason. Steven was lying on his side, facing away from her. He wasn’t moving.

“STEVEN!” Connie burst into a sprint, nearly tripping over her own feet as she ran up to her friend. She fell on her knees next to him, rapidly swiping sand off of him and uncovering the rest of him slowly. His jeans were now also a shade of sky blue, but only on the behind, she noted. The shirt was red as ever in front, the yellow star completely untouched.

She reached forward, turning his head so that he was facing her. His expression was pinched, twitching ever so slightly as he rested. Thank GOODNESS he was alive. Connie felt tears coming to her eyes as she took him in, both relieved he was breathing, but terrified of what must have happened.

How long had he been laying there? Surely the sun couldn’t bleach his clothing that quickly, right? And he was on his side, not face-down. And besides, it was only just after 8:00, early enough for the sun to be up, but not long enough to bleach his clothes like that. The message had come in late at night.

She moved her hands down to his torso. Grunting, she was able to shift his weight, moving him onto her lap. His face pinched even more with the movement, and he hissed in air between his teeth. She cringed, deciding against moving him more and leaving him positioned above her knees.

His breathing was more audible now, at least, for all that was worth.

“St... Steven?” Connie moved the hand that had been holding his chest and moved it up to his face. “Steven, y-you gotta wake up now, okay? It’s morning. Why...” she huffed a laugh that was more akin to letting air out of your lungs than anything humorous. “Why are you sleeping outside? The sun baked your clothes, silly.”

He wasn’t responding, though at least his breathing was evening out. She felt a tenseness leave his shoulders she hadn’t realized was there.

“No, no no no don’t go back to sleep,” she scolded. She moved her hand again, opting to now shake him. He made a small wounded noise at the action, but she couldn’t wait anymore. “Steven, wake up. Wake up!”

“Hhhhrngggghh...” Steven’s eyes finally opened. “Hurts...”

Connie froze. “Sorry,” she said quickly, “but you’re awake now, so...”

“Wh...” Whatever he was trying to say trailed off as he took in his surroundings. His eyes travelled up to Connie’s face, then along the edge of the beach. Only then did Connie start to notice the damage herself. “...th’ gems,” Steven whispered. “Where are the gems?”

“I...” That was a good question. Connie frowned, looking along the beach on instinct. She couldn’t see them anywhere. Were they in the house?

A glint of sunlight caught her eye. Turning to it, she saw that the beach was littered with gemstones. Or, at the very least, the beach directly surrounding the two of them.

The glinting one had been Amethyst, her purple, six-faceted gem catching the light much better than the others. Pearl was next to her, her light, round shape almost disappearing into the sand. On his other side were two gems she didn’t recognize, a three-faceted blue gem, and a four-faceted red one.

She frowned. “I don’t know where Garnet is, but... Amethyst and Pearl are right next to you.”

Steven strained, trying to turn his head in their direction.

“They got poofed.”

He froze. He let his head fall slack again, and it rolled back to the position Connie had been holding it before. His eyes were blown wide. “Wh... what?”

Connie nodded. “There’s two other gems here I don’t recognize, too.”

Steven shook his head lightly. “But that... we were all just...” His breathing began to quicken again, the tenseness returning to his shoulders. “The light, they were right there, but- no, they all... th-they all-!” He struggled out of Connie’s grasp, trying to fight his way to his feet again, only to cry out in pain. He curled in on himself, one arm holding his stomach, the other supporting him on the sand.

“Steven!” Connie stood up and crouched next to him. “Steven, what’s wrong? What hurt you?”

“The light!” he yelled out. He was looking down, eyes unfocused. “Th-the light was- it came from the ship, and, and then we- but I wanted to help! I have Mom’s shield!” He suddenly turned to look at Connie, and she noted with horror that he was crying. “I had Mom’s shield! I-I shoulda been able to block it, I could have! But I... but I-!” He cut himself off, gasping. He brought a hand up to his mouth, sobbing.

“Steven, stop,” Connie put a hand on his shoulder, not entirely sure how else to react. “You’re not making any sense. Let’s get you inside, we should-”

“I failed.”

Connie froze. Steven’s voice had been near inaudible, painted in shades of anguish. She blinked, trying to get in his line of sight again. “What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t do it.” He hiccuped. “They coulda been fighting back, but I wouldn’t listen. They kept telling me to run. If I did, they would have had a better chance.”

“Wh-what?” Connie shook her head. “Steven, please, let’s call your dad. I think you’re in shock. You’re not making any sense. We can talk about this later.”

“Dad...” Steven nodded slowly, his body starting to tremble again. “Yeah, I want my dad. I... I...” He buried his face in his hands, not trying to hold it back anymore.

Connie took the opportunity. She pulled out her phone and gave Greg a call. Unlike Steven, he picked up on the second ring.

“Hello? This is Greg Universe.”

“Mr. Universe?”

“Connie?” The voice over the receiver softened. “What’s up?”

“Um...” Connie ran a hand through Steven’s curls, letting him lay back down for now. He was still crying openly now and getting louder.

Greg seemed to put two and two together. “Is that Steven?! What happened, is he okay?!”

“I...” Connie looked at Steven again, who’d darted his eyes up to her the second he heard the waver in her voice. The motion made him hiss again, and his expression crunched a bit. “I don’t know!” She grabbed the phone with both hands. “I don’t know! He’s alive, but he’s not making any sense. He’s really freaked out, and in pain, and I can’t figure out what’s wrong, and-”

“Woah woah woah, slow down!” Greg’s voice was barely masking his own panic. “He’s alive?”

Connie nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Yes, he is.”

“Where is he?”

“On the beach. I found him just... j-just laying in the sand.”

“...And the gems?”

“Poofed.”

Greg sighed. “Alright. Okay. I’m coming up on Beach City right now. I’ll be able to take a look at him in a minute. Can you just stay with him until I get there?”

“I promise.” She looked at Steven again, who had zoned out once again, staring at something only he could see. He looked small in her arms, smaller than normal. It hurt.

Greg hung up first without saying goodbye, so Connie simply put the phone in her pocket. She wrapped both arms around him and hugged him as best as she could from this angle, while minding the pain he was in, too. Steven made a small noise, but she couldn’t figure out what it could mean.

What happened?

#doomed corruption au #doomed corruption #su #su au #connie maheswaran #garnet su #pearl su #amethyst su #steven universe #the return #canon divergence #chapter 1 #chapter one the return

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cal-kestis · 3 years

Text

You Mean More | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

(Part III of The Aftermath of Losing Everything)

moodboard/sketch/gifs made by me, please don’t repost :)

Summary: The plan goes as follows: Send the Mandalorian to the Imperial base under the guise of full cooperation and stall the holoprojector Imp for as long as possible. This will give you enough time to sneak in through an air vent, find a terminal, and hack the system, wiping every Imperial archive of Din Djarin's face. It should work, right? As long as no one gets hurt. (Set after S2) Rating: M Word Count: 8023 Warnings/Tags: Soft!Din, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, no use of ‘Y/N’, non-explicit smut, canon-typical violence, blood A/N: This is what they call: the climax.

[PART I] // [PART II] // [Read on AO3] // [Series Masterlist]

xi.

As Din flies to the Imperial base, the only sounds filling the cockpit are the low beeps of the control board and the tense quiet of your voice repeating the plan for the twenty-third time. When you finally land on an icy planet, you see the base outside the viewport blending in with its snowy surroundings — white, cold, frozen in time — and two stormtroopers flanking either side of the sealed entrance.

“Check your comlink,” Din says, voice gentle and authoritative.

“Testing, testing. Cuyan to Shiny Head, do you copy?” You whisper-shout into the device, watching as his gloved hand reaches for the side of his helmet, listening to your words spoken directly into his ear. He nods.

“You’re not calling me ‘Shiny Head’ by the way.”

You want to laugh. Normally, you would. But anxiety drops low in your stomach again as you peer out to the base.

“This is going to work,” you whisper and he wonders whether you’re saying that for his sake or to convince yourself.

“Don’t leave the ship until I give you the signal,” he says, his hands grasping both of your shoulders, thumbs brushing your upper arms in gentle circles. You only nod in response, your eyes boring into the visor of his helmet, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. When he pulls you against his chest and tightens his grip, your body sinks into his, trying to memorize how you fit together in case it’s all you have left. Too soon, he’s letting go, leaving only the crown of his helmet connected to your forehead when he echoes your words, “This is going to work.”

The moment he exits the ship, you sprint to the engine bay and pull the ship’s electro-periscope from the ceiling. Through the red-tinted binoc lens, you have a magnified view of the Mandalorian as he saunters up to the base’s entrance, not even flinching as the stormtroopers draw their blasters.

You watch his helmet turn wide to the left and swing slowly to the right, scanning the base as the troopers check his person and confiscate his blaster. The stormtroopers step back to their posts, leaving Din standing in the middle of the snow outside of a round, closed door. Waiting.

“Cuyan Two to Cuyan One,” you mutter into the comlink. “What are you seeing?”

You’re met with a long gap of static and you panic, thinking the coms are jammed, before he finally answers.

“You were right, Cuyan One,” he whispers, the hint of a smile in his voice despite the circumstances. “There’s a small duct to the left of the entrance. You’ll have to distract the guard troopers.”

“I can manage.”

“I know you can,” he says, steadfast as ever. Din believes in you without an ounce of hesitation and it makes you feel like you could command stars into existence and the galaxy would obey. “After I give the signal, go to my weapons locker. There’s a locked box at the bottom. Punch in my code and take the bag inside it with you."

“What’s in it?” You ask, watching as the doors to the base finally open, revealing another pair of stormtroopers, one with red markings on their armor. A Burner, more infamously known as an Incinerator Trooper.

“Things to keep you safe,” he answers quickly.

One of the guards gives Din’s blaster to the troopers now leading him into the base. And before the doors close, you see Din’s fingers interlock behind his back: the signal.

Focusing the periscope on the two guard troopers, you scan the area again, looking for a way to distract them without causing a scene. Aside from a patch of bushes to the right of the base, the area is blanketed in pure white snow with nothing to give you cover. Great.

As you think over your next move, you run to Din’s weapons cabinet and rummage through his arsenal, finding the locked box under an old cloak. You punch his code into the number pad — 47648, ‘GROGU’ on a 10-key pad you remember with a bittersweet smile — and the box opens with a quiet click. As promised, there’s a small tan-colored pouch with a shoulder strap and, inside it, you find a blaster that fits perfectly in your hand and what looks like a silver sword hilt, its blade completely missing. You run your fingers across the angular handle, confused as to how a bladeless weapon could “keep you safe.” But when your finger presses over a smooth panel on the hilt, a high-pitched sound emits from its chamber and a black blade glows in front of your face.

A lightsaber, you think, like the ones Din had told you about what feels like a lifetime ago. But this one isn’t green like the one he’d described Grogu’s master used or white like Ahsoka Tano’s twin sabers. It's dark and blinding, laced with an energy you’re far too frightened to wield. You retract the blade almost immediately, heart racing as you stuff both weapons into the worn bag and sling it over your shoulder.

Taking a long, steadying breath, you slowly step onto the boarding ramp — thanking the Maker Din had the sense to leave it down so it wouldn’t make a noise and blow your cover. He hadn’t parked the ship too far from the entrance and you can clearly see the duct he’d mentioned a few yards away. If you can just get the stormtroopers to turn in the other direction, you could sprint and be in the clear.

The plan is dumb, you know it. But it’s already the day of dumb plans and it’s all you have. Kneeling, you gather a mass of powdery snow in your gloved hands and press it together until it clumps into a dense ball. With your arms outstretched in front of you, you close your eyes and reach out with your mind, focusing your thoughts on the ball of snow in your palms.

The snow levitates high above you, high above even the Imperial base, and toward the trooper standing on the right side of the entry. You lower the ball just to his head-level and out of his eyesight, flick your wrist slowly to the right to gain some momentum, then snap it quickly to the left, smacking the stormtrooper hard against his helmet.

“What the hell?” You hear the stormtrooper shout, shuffling back on his feet.

“What happened?” The other asks.

“I just got hit with a snowball?” He answers with his own question, rubbing the side of his helmet.

You focus your thoughts again, this time, reaching out toward the bushes to the right of the base, causing the branches to wiggle and rustle.

The two troopers snap their heads in the direction of the mysterious sound, walking slowly with their blasters aimed and ready. And when they reach the bushes, aimlessly kicking at the shrubs with their boots, you run for it.

Your lungs are on fire when you reach the duct, fingers trembling as you quietly jiggle off the vent’s cover to give yourself an opening. You crawl in the chamber and quickly replace the cover before the stormtroopers return to their posts.

Once you’re safe inside the duct, you turn Din’s line back on so you can hear his side of the mission.

“I’m in,” you whisper.

On his end, you hear him grunt quietly in acknowledgment before the line is filled with only the faint sound of marching boots.

You have no idea where you’re going — probably the dumbest part of your entire plan — but you hope to stumble upon a terminal or control room sooner rather than later so you and Din can leave this nightmare in the past.

The base’s air vent system proves to be an endless maze, however, with forks and crossroads at every turn. Your knees start to ache as they press and slide across the metal ducting, your hands leaving trails of water as the thin layer of ice on your gloves melts away. You freeze when you hear footsteps below the air duct, holding your breath as you peer through the slits of a vent to see a platoon of stormtroopers marching through the corridor.

After what feels like hours, you finally find a small, surprisingly empty room filled with computer terminals and open a vent panel before quietly dropping down from the ceiling.

By no means would you call yourself a hacking wizard, but you had some tricks up your sleeve. Years of scraping by on your own will teach you a host of odd skills. Within seconds, you bypass the facial scanners and begin combing through the archives before you hear some static crackle in your earpiece once again.

“Please, no need for formalities," you hear a faint voice taunt through Din’s com. “We already know what you look like.”

It’s the holoprojector Imp, the familiar sound of her throaty voice floods your ears. Din doesn’t respond, and you imagine him standing like a statue, calculating the odds and armed with nothing but beskar and silence.

“Very well,” the Imp says. “Leave the helmet on. We have more important matters to discuss.”

“I almost have it,” you whisper to Din, hoping your encouraging progress can serve as another weapon.

“Now, Din Djarin,” the Imp calls, his name dripping out of her mouth like venom. “Don’t think we’d be so foolish to believe you’d assist us willingly. Assume that we know everything.”

A shiver runs down your spine from the thinly concealed threat, and your fingers fly faster over the controls as time slips through the cracks.

Finally, you find it, a record labeled: ‘Din Djarin.’ And you erase every trace of him.

“Got it, Cuyan One,” you sigh a breath of relief into the comlink.

“For example,” the Imp is still talking, and you roll your eyes knowing you’ve already won. “We know you did not come here alone.”

Suddenly, the blast doors of the terminal room open with a whoosh, and you back up against the machines as two stormtroopers corner you in. With a blessed shred of forethought, you blindly pull one of the weapons out of Din’s bag behind your back and sneak it into the back waistband of your pants, covered by your thick cloak. Just as you thought, one stormtrooper tears the bag from your shoulder, looking inside to find the other weapon without searching you further.

They push you down the corridor, jabbing you in the middle of your back with the barrel of their blasters, and you count each step before stopping in front of a heavy-looking door on the shadowy end of the hall.

Din’s voice enters your ears at the same moment.

“If you even think about hurting her, you’re already dead.”

The door opens, revealing a dark room bathed in ominous red light. In the middle, the holoprojector Imp stands with her legs spread and her hands behind her back, flanked by two stormtroopers. Somehow, the Imp looks even paler without the blue tint of holo coloring her skin. It makes her eyes appear pitch black in comparison, piercing as they slant at you in unmasked scrutiny. She wears the same darkness in her hair which is cut blunt and short, severe against her skeletal pallor. In front of her, Din kneels on the ground, the Burner standing only a few steps behind him, flamethrower at the ready.

With your two captors holding you by the arms in a room filled with enemies, the odds feel slim to none. Din’s helmet turns to you, his beskar shrouded in red, and you do your best to send him a reassuring smile.

The Imp suddenly says your full name, a grin splitting her face in half when you turn to her in shock. “So nice of you to join us.”

“You already lost,” you spit at the Imp, grinning wider than her. “I erased the archives. You have nothing.”

“Oh, such a pretty, foolish girl,” the Imp sings and you hear the teasing, grating noise from both her true voice and its distortion through your comlink. With your arms trapped, you can’t even turn off the device, and you cringe each time the dissonance scratches its way into your ears. “You may have wiped the systems but I have a backup drive,” she smirks, patting the badge-decorated pocket on her uniform. “In fact, I’ve also collected some interesting records on you, my dear. About your family, your… history.”

She’s bluffing, she has to be.

“Assume that we know everything,” the Imp repeats.

“Who are you?” You grit through bared teeth.

She laughs and you wipe your ear on your shoulder in disgust.

“Surely you both understand if I choose to withhold certain information. One's identity can be so very…” the Imp pretends to consider her words, glancing at Din and then sneering back at you as she taps a gloved finger against her pale, pointed chin. “Valuable.”

You lunge at her, a snarl ripping from your throat, but a trooper holds you back with a painful grip, his blaster digging into your side.

“Now, Din Djarin,” the Imp says, turning her attention back to the kneeling warrior. “If you don’t want to watch me kill your partner, you’ll do as I wish. Help me retrieve Gideon. Otherwise, you both shall die here.” Her blaster clicks as she points the barrel between his eyes with horrifying gracefulness.

“No!” You scream, turning every weapon in the room on you.

“Let her go,” Din practically growls.

“Ah,” the Imp says, walking to where you stand on the other side of the room, her weapon dangling like a child's toy from her fingers. “Or perhaps the girl can be of better help? With the proper motivation, of course. Tell me, where are they keeping the Moff? I wouldn’t want to be forced to make a roast out of your Mandalorian.”

With a snap of the Imp’s fingers, the Burner points his flamethrower at Din’s head. But somehow, in that same instant, you manage to rip yourself out of the troopers’ holds, making them stumble backward. And your hand flies forward, lifting the Imperial officer from the ground.

The troopers seem dumbfounded by the magic they’re witnessing, blasters pointed at the ground in their stupor. You can almost see their slack-jawed expressions through their helmets as the Imp clutches her hands around her throat, gasping for air and hovering a foot above the floor.

“A Jedi?” She croaks.

Assume that we know everything. You knew it. A bluff.

“Wrong again,” you grin, pushing your hand forward and sending the Imp soaring across the room. Her head hits metal with a heavy crash, falling unconscious, and at the same time, a loud alarm sounds throughout the base. Somehow, the red of the room grows darker and more saturated as lights flash on the ceiling.

Blaster fire ricochets off the red-tinted walls when the troopers come back to reality, the blasts deafening as you dodge them, thankful it’s just a group of bad-shot stormtroopers and not an elite unit.

One stormtrooper charges toward you, raising the butt of his blaster to strike, but you kick him hard in the stomach, plowing him into the floor. In the corner of your eye, you see Din twist in a circle, his wrists still bound behind him as he sweeps his leg under the Burner, making the trooper fall backward with a thud.

You rush over to Din, pulling the saber from your waistband and igniting the blade to cut his binders off. You wordlessly hand him the sword but he pushes it back toward you.

“Use it,” he says, squeezing your wrist before turning back to knock the flamethrower out of the Burner’s grasp.

You’ve been in your fair share of scuffles back on Tatooine, even some while working with the Mandalorian — but you’ve never fought with a sword before. Clumsily, you swing the blade in front of you, brandishing it toward the troopers without skill.

“How do I use this thing?” You shout at Din who is busy punching a stormtrooper and taking back his blaster.

“It’s a sword,” he yells over the alarm, shooting a third clueless trooper. “Stab something!”

With both hands gripping the hilt, you send the blade slicing through the air, a loud humming sound echoing in your ears with each swing. And when you hit the side of one final stormtrooper, the strike punctuated by a roaring crackle, he’s on the ground, his white armor sizzling as it melts.

But while the chaos in the red room settles, a larger battle brews outside its doors.

“I erased it, they have nothing,” you explain breathlessly, retracting the saber as Din surveys your body for injuries. You pull Din’s bag off the fallen trooper and replace the sword inside. “The Imp was bluffing.”

You run over to the unconscious woman regardless, checking her pockets. Empty.

“Are you sure?” He asks when you return to him, holding your trembling shoulders.

“Positive. It’s like I could sense it.”

A loud crash echoes in the corridors, making you jump away from him.

“Let’s get out of here,” Din says, at the same moment you scream, “Watch out!”

It happens in slow motion. The Incinerator Trooper pushes himself on his feet and reaches for his flamethrower. Din’s gaze is focused on you when you see the trooper take aim, a small fire beginning to bloom from the barrel.

Your arms wrap around Din instinctively, attempting to shield his body with your own. You wait for the burning heat, for the scorch of flames to lick at your skin. You wait to hear both your agonizing screams before you and Din leave the universe together. But as bright orange and red tendrils flash behind your closed eyelids, you only feel cool beskar.

Opening your eyes, you see a dome of fire just inches away from your bodies. Din pulls away slowly, taking in the sight of the inferno around him, dancing flames reflecting off his armor.

“Are you doing this?” He asks, a hazy memory creeping into his mind of the stand-off on Nevarro.

You squint through the fire, only finding the Burner with his thrower still aimed forward. You are doing this. Closing your eyes again, you reach out and focus your thoughts harder on the protective shield blocking the flames. Your mind pushes forward and deflects the fire backward, hurling the blaze and embers into the trooper. When the flames dissipate, the Burner collapses to the ground, his suit scorched and blackened.

Standing in the middle of the destruction, you stare at your hands in shock before yellow-tipped gloves grab them and pull you out of the room.

“We have to go,” Din says.

The halls flash with red lights, sirens soaring through the narrow corridors as trooper footsteps drum closer and closer.

Din leads you quickly through the base and out where he first entered. But you’re met by a rain of blaster fire as you both attempt to sprint back to the ship in one piece. Din pushes you in front of him, running backward as he shoots and blocks the blasters with the armor on his chest.

“Hang on,” he shouts, and before you can question it, he’s scooping you into his arms and launching off the ground.

He flies to the parked ship in record timing. But before he can make his landing, a blast hits his jetpack. It combusts with a deafening boom, right next to your ear, and it sends both of you hurdling into the ice. For a moment, you can’t hear a thing except for the echo of the explosion as you fall to the pillowy snow. Then, beside you, you hear a dull crack of beskar on thick, hardened ice and Din groaning aloud in agony.

“No!” You shout, coming to your senses when you see his leg bent at a strange angle, blood seeping onto the ice from his helmet.

“Get us out of here,” he grits out.

It feels frighteningly familiar pulling his body into the ship, danger looming from all sides as blasts continue to ding off the freighter or melt into the snow. You close the ramp, leave Din in the hold, and get the ship high above the ground.

But you hesitate, hovering in the air for a long moment, before making a choice.

Charging the gunners, you aim at the Imperial base and release a shockwave of vengeful blasts. And as the facility and everything inside and around it disintegrates into ash and rubble, you launch into hyperspace, leaving nothing behind.

The next moments pass by in a blur, Din’s cries ringing loudly in your ears as you try to figure out what to do. He gives you strained instructions but you can barely understand him.

“Reset the bone,” he grunts with just enough clarity, all while writhing in pain.

“Reset the bone,” you echo. “Right. I can do this. I’ll need to cut your pants.”

You find a small blade, remove his boot and armor, and slice a line from the bottom of his pant leg to just above his knee. With one hand gripping below his knee and the other pressing down on his thigh, you pull and hear the bone snap back into place as Din screams. You run to the storage closet for the medpac and return with bacta gel in hand, smoothing it over the purple, splotchy skin around Din’s leg before delicately wrapping it with the cut fabric of his pants and a makeshift splint.

“Your head,” you remember, searching for the wound under his cowl, and he wheezes as if to confirm. “No. No, no, no, no, no. Oh, stars, Din. This is bad,” you sputter, your palm painted in his blood.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, breath slowing as he brushes his fingers through your hair. “You did so good back there, cuyan. My survivor.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” you cry, tears rolling in waves down your cheeks. “You’re Cuyan One, remember? You’re going to be alright. I’m gonna fix this.”

“You’re so brave, so clever, so strong,” he continues, coughing between words. “Kotep, mirdala, kotyc. Ner kar’ta,” he croaks, voice fading out.

“Stay with me, Din!” You shout.

“I want to see your face,” he mumbles as if in a trance.

“I’m here, Din,” you tell him, taking his hand and placing it on your cheek. “I’m here.”

“No,” he coughs. “I want to see your face with my own eyes.”

You stare at him, waiting for him to retract his words. When he doesn’t, he pulls your joined hands to his helmet. You’re shaking when your other hand finds the opposite side of the beskar, releasing the lock and lifting it from his head.

His face is covered in blood and cuts, his brown eyes drooping with fatigue, dark hair plastered to his forehead.

“Oh, Din,” you cry, unable to even process him without a helmet for the first time as you take in the damage. You can’t even see him behind the wounds that mar his features. But he sees you. His hand comes back to your cheek, thumb sliding back and forth in a half-moon shape.

“Mesh’la,” he whispers. “Means beautiful. You are so beautiful, ner kar’ta.”

You blink hard, heavy tears landing on his armor drop after drop even as he tries to brush them away. Your hand covers his own on your cheek, fiercely pressing his palm into your skin like you’re afraid he’ll let go. Kissing the exposed skin of his wrist, you taste a tragic mixture of blaster residue and wet salt on your lips.

“I can’t remember what ner kar’ta means,” you sob. “Please tell me.”

One corner of his lips twitches upward, a strained, painful effort to smile, but he does everything in his power to let you see it.

“It means,” he gasps. “My heart.”

His hand falls from your cheek, limp in your lap and your body shakes at the loss of his touch. You can still hear his shallow breaths but you’re not sure how much longer he can go in this state. You close your eyes, holding his hand as your fingers brush over his glove. The inside of the ship is silent — peaceful and still as if unaware that your entire universe is crumbling in front of you. There’s not enough bacta in the galaxy to treat the trauma he’s sustaining in his head. You can hardly see his skin under the layers of blood and scrapes.

His warm, honeyed voice echoes in your mind, stories he’s told you over and over when you’d make any excuse to hear his voice, stories about him and Grogu. You think of his little green son, how you’re failing him right now. Please take care of my father.

Din always sounded so wistful when he talked about Grogu, so in awe of his power.

He could do things I couldn’t even imagine…

He saved me, in more ways than one…

Grogu is a special kid…

He could heal people.

“He could heal people!” You shout out loud, eyes bulging from their sockets.

In all your years of walking a tightrope when it came to your strange wizard-like powers, you’d never imagined you could heal. All those times you’d tried to fall asleep covered in bruises or cuts, you could have prevented so many nights of excruciating physical pain. But now is not the time to dwell on the past when your future is slipping through your fingers.

You close your eyes again — slowly resting one hand on Din’s cheek, the other still clutching his limp hand — and try to relax, reach out with your mind, reach inside, and focus your thoughts, emotions, energy, everything you have on the man in front of you.

It flows out of you in waves, sinking into him, and you feel it: your body growing more tired each second, only hoping your vitality is transferring into him. Just when you’re about to pass out, you hear him gasp for air, his body shooting up like a fish out of water.

“Din?” You blearily wonder. But his face blurs out of focus before you fall to the floor.

—

In the face of pain, the body has natural defenses to harden itself, like the calluses that develop on your fingertips and heels for armor. You can build a tolerance, a certain degree of numbness until pain regresses to a dull ache at the back of your mind. And sometimes, the skin gets so thick, the body so paralyzed, that you start to believe nothing could ever hurt you. Not coarse sand crystals or alleyway scum or sharp-clawed rancors or stormtrooper blasts.

But it’s funny how protection covering the outside does nothing to shield what lies underneath — merely a shattered fortress with cracks that let pain seep into the bloodstream and petrify the heart.

When Din’s hand had dropped limp in yours, you hadn’t felt the pain of his wounds or scars shrouding your body. Instead, you’d felt a unique kind of suffering, torture that hadn’t left your skin bruised but had rather sunken into your pores and gnawed at your insides: fear, loss, mourning.

The agonizing ache lingers in your muscles when you finally awaken.

The mattress beneath you envelopes your senses in a familiar fragrance of warmth and safety. Brightness filters in through the open door across the room and a sliver of light glares in one of your eyes, making you rub your fist against your eyelids to regain focus.

As your vision sharpens, you quickly realize you’re not in your own sleeping quarters.

These sheets are dark, the opposite of the crisp white color you’ve been used to for nearly a year. Knickknacks don’t litter the metal floors and socks aren’t piled up in the corner as you remember. The room is mostly bare, stripped down to the necessities, organized and empty to an almost alarming degree.

Then, a splash of color catches your eye on the durasteel wall near the door. It’s difficult to see with the glare spotlighting your face, leaving your surroundings in the shadows. Deciding to investigate, you wrap Din’s blanket tight around your shoulders, keeping his comforting scent around you like a cocoon. When your sock-covered feet finally carry you across his room to the wall in question, you gasp.

Tacked onto Din’s wall are at least a dozen small pages of parchment depicting lively landscapes of planets you’ve visited and picturesque portraits of creatures you’ve encountered together. Your drawings. You remember the times he’d come back from an easy mission, a charming swagger in his gait, and had asked to see what you’d drawn. He’d always held your booklet in his hands so delicately, taking the time he didn’t have to study and praise your work. When he’d hand it back, you’d tear the page from its binding and whisper, “You can keep it.” You’d never thought much of it, except that you’d wanted to share the beauty you’d captured with him. After all, he’d given you all these beautiful colors to do so. But more than that, you’d wanted to let him see the galaxy through your eyes since his own stayed shadowed by his visor. Whenever he’d allowed himself to indulge in removing his helmet in private, you’d hoped he could see what you saw through the pages. You’d never once thought he’d keep your drawings so sacredly displayed in his quarters, assuming the doodles would eventually pile up in some forgotten corner on the ship. But he’d kept each one.

And right in the center, you see the first picture you’d ever drawn for him: a portrait of Grogu sketched according to Din’s affectionate descriptions. It’s slightly folded in on itself from the way he’d tucked it neatly into his shoulder pouch for safekeeping. When you’d drawn it for him, you’d just wanted to do him a simple kindness, the same way he’d been so kind to help you leave Tatooine behind and travel the galaxies with him. You’d only had your pencil at the time, none of Din’s thoughtfully gifted pigments at your disposal, leaving the portrait of the child monochromatic. But now, vibrant color adorns the sketch, bringing Grogu to life in beautiful tones of green, pink, and brown.

Din had borrowed your chalk pigments and colored it in himself. You imagine him with vivid hues dusting his fingertips and green smudges on his beskar, and you smile.

But when you pull back the folded edge of the paper, you’re surprised to see another figure has been drawn next to Grogu, an image you don’t recognize as work of your own.

It’s… you.

Water blurs your vision but you quickly wipe the tears away so they don’t somehow fly onto the pages and ruin his picture. He’d colored you in your favorite garments, a familiar pink flower tucked behind your ear along with your pencil. Careful, reverent strokes define each of your features. You can’t help but think it looks like you and a stranger at the same time, and you wonder if this radiant image he’s drawn is truly who you are or just how he sees you. And what if those two ideas are one and the same?

You don’t notice Din leaning against the doorframe until you hear your name in a deep, dulcet tone. He whispers it, uninhibited by his helmet, and suddenly your name has a thousand more meanings than just some arbitrary label for the girl who used to be alone. When he says it, your name means survivor, brave, clever, strong, beautiful, his entire heart — and all you want is to dive headfirst into the sweet nectar of his voice.

But then you remember what happened, how you let him get hurt, how you failed to take care of him as Grogu had asked. You don't realize you’re crying until his bare finger swipes away a single tear.

And even though you technically already saw his face — albeit bloodied and distorted — you dare not look at him. You keep your eyes trained low, noticing his unbandaged leg, as his hands caress your skin.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, voice so heavy with concern it weighs down against your heart.

You nod. “How long was I out?”

“About 16 hours,” he answers, crooking his finger below your chin to pull your eyes to his.

“What about your Creed?” You ask, closing your eyes tight.

“You mean more.”

You expected to hear something more along the lines of ‘you already saw my face’ or ‘I’ve broken it before.’ But no, he says, ‘You. Mean. More.’ They’re three simple words that carry mountains of blissful promises, an echo of a sentiment you’d heard him say about his child, a different time that feels so far away now.

So, you open your eyes, look up, and one of your hands cradles the side of his face. He’s fully healed and the blood from the nightmare before is washed away, the red stain only living in your mind, allowing you to finally see him clearly.

You’ve always had some sense of his face. He’d given you so many pieces, letting your fingers map out his features and answering your questions so you could sketch them onto paper. Some things you can know without seeing. But having him in front of you — stripped of his armor and helmet, a soft errant curl brushing over his forehead, warm tan skin on display just aching for your fingers to explore them the way they did before you’d ever seen him — it feels like setting down the last piece of a puzzle.

He’s beautiful in the way that broken stones and crystal fragments are when they form a mosaic, each piece jagged yet fitting together into a purposeful masterpiece.

And the way he looks at you, like you’re home when all he’s ever known is running… you’ll do anything to keep him looking at you like this.

He enters his quarters fully, extending his arms to hold you closer. When he leans his forehead against your own, you close your eyes. His warm breath tickles your skin, the slope of his nose slowly nuzzling against yours, and when you let yourself peek at him again from under your lashes, you see his eyes are softly shut, the smallest of smiles on his lips.

“When did you draw this one?” You ask, voice but a whisper, nodding at the papers on his wall.

“While you were resting... I’m not much of an artist,” he says sheepishly, watching your fingers delicately trace the lines of his drawing. “But I wanted to keep a piece of you with me too.”

You merely exhale, mind reeling. Any word you think of seems to evaporate each time you open your mouth.

“Maybe, when you finish it, we can hang the portrait you drew of me next to this one,” he muses. “So, at least on paper, we can be a clan of three.”

You nod fervently, your foreheads rubbing together from the rapid motion as you stroke the soft peaks of his cheekbones.

“I can’t believe you kept all of these,” you chuckle, gesturing to his wall of art.

“Of course I did,” he says, fully grinning now, his nose playfully bumping against yours. “They’re beautiful and… they’re from you.”

A sweet sigh escapes your lips, your breath hovering in the small space between your bodies, and you see a flash of pink when his tongue pokes out to swipe a quick line between his mouth. You bite your lip, trying to force your mind to stay silent and not ruin this moment, but knowing you need to address the guilt in your heart.

“You almost died,” you say quietly, the words falling from your lips in broken pieces and shattering on the floor.

“But I didn’t,” he responds, his brown eyes staring directly into yours. “You healed me.”

“I should have...” you start, not knowing how to finish the statement because, even now, you’re clueless as to what you could have done differently. “I should have been more careful. Maybe if I hadn’t gotten caught, you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

“I’m used to it,” he sighs.

“Well, you shouldn’t be,” you whisper. “Neither should you.”

It stuns you, causing you to pull your face away just slightly, ignoring the way your skin screams to touch his again.

Pain is universal except to those who harden themselves to it and let calluses develop. This is a natural defense. You know this. But the thing is, pain is protection too, another security the body uses to protect itself. From harm. It’s ironic how the ones who feel the least amount of pain carry the largest amount of suffering.

“You shouldn’t have gotten hurt,” you continue, walking over to his bed to sit on the edge. “I promised I’d take care of you.”

This time, he’s stunned. Take care of him?

“You almost died, Din. You shouldn’t have even gotten hurt. I don’t know what I would do…”

“I’m right here, ner kar’ta,” he whispers, moving towards the bed and kneeling between your legs. He cradles your jaw, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. “I’m right here.”

“You almost weren’t,” you say, your lip trembling below his thumb.

“I’m here. With you,” he says, confident. “I always will be, I promise.”

“Din, you can’t promise—”

“I just did.”

As you look into his eyes, you see a fire that tells you this is more than a promise. It’s more than a tenet of the Mandalorians’ honor and you feel it in your bones. He would traverse every system, tear apart the galaxy, fall to his knees to keep it. This is more than a promise. It’s a vow.

It feels like entering a new atmosphere, gravity pulling you into his orbit until your lips meet his, the same way the horizon of Tatooine meets twin suns each evening. He’s soft — so soft — and solid and still, allowing you to release the worry and trauma you’ve been shouldering on your own against his eager lips. You capture his upper lip, press a chaste peck there, exhale, kiss his lower lip, then breathe him in.

When you pull back by an inch, his body sways toward yours like a pendulum, his eyes closed dreamily as he waits for your lips to return to his.

“Din,” you whisper, a single tear rolling down your cheek as you cup his face between your hands like he’s delicate and holy. “Ner kar’ta,” you call him.

He opens his eyes, finding yours glazed with something he’s never seen before but knows is mirrored in his own irises.

“How do you say ‘I love you’ in Mando’a?”

This time, it’s his lips crashing into yours first, capturing your gasp on his tongue. His fingers card through your hair and find a resting place at the base of your head, nails scratching lightly and pulling sweet songs from your mouth. His other hand settles on the crook of your neck, his thumb drawing circles over your clavicle before gliding over your shoulder, then along the side of your waist, finally falling to the small of your back. A gentle pressure pulls you closer to the edge of the mattress where Din still kneels between your thighs, making you gasp again. But he swallows the sound with his mouth, his tongue eagerly licking past your lips. You dig your fingers into his hair and wrap your legs around his torso to stay balanced, though your mind is drunk on his taste and dizzy on his scent filling your lungs.

All you know is him.

The hand on your back grazes across your hip, drags a slow line over the top of your thigh, and squeezes once. Then, you feel fingers tickle behind your knee. In one swift motion, Din pulls your leg higher around him and gently pushes you backward, the hand on your head guiding you as you fall onto the pillow.

He pulls away panting, letting you catch your breath as he takes the opportunity to rake his eyes over your body spread out beneath him.

You do the same, letting your fingers follow the same path as your eyes. He looks positively wrecked, hair sticking up from where you’d pulled it, pupils dilated, his lips pink and perfectly swollen. His breaths seem to come out more labored — but whether from your touch or the shameless way your eyes drink him in, you don’t know. All you know is the flushed skin below his jaw, how it draws your attention to the strong cords of muscle that run up the length of his neck, how his Adam’s apple bobs slowly below your featherlight finger when he swallows.

As your hands continue their exploration, Din’s thumb tickles your cheek with a tenderness that matches the look in his eyes. The shimmering dust of stars glistens in his irises as he gazes upon you like you’re…

“Mesh’la,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I could say the same about you,” you grin, drawing him back toward you and feeling his smile against your lips.

He settles his weight between your legs, moaning into your mouth when you raise your hips to grind against him. He gives you beautiful, desperate noises and you greedily capture each one with your lips. As he kisses you, your nails scrape down his back, his muscles tensing and rippling under your touch until you find the hem of his shirt. You tug on it once, twice, before he’s finally sitting back and pulling it over his head. Not wanting to have to separate yourself from him again, you remove your top at the same time, leaving you both exposed from the waist up. When his face emerges from the neck of his shirt, he looks down and stills, and somehow, you feel infinitely more beautiful under his lustful gaze.

He attaches your lips again, craving your taste like a famine-starved man, ravenous hands exploring new skin as yours leave crescent moons across his back. He kisses your lips, your cheeks, licks below your ear, sucks under your jaw, down your neck, above your breasts — tasting every soft plane with a hunter’s diligence until you’re soft and pliant below him, bending while he bows.

He rocks into you, eliciting gasps from both your lips. Desperately, you scratch impatiently at the skin above his waistband, your hands attempting to push the material down to no avail.

“What do you want?” He asks, pleads against your mouth, moaning when you hold his lower lip between your teeth and release it with a slow scrape.

“Want these off,” you mutter against his cheek, his scruff scratching over your lips deliciously. “Want you.”

That’s all he needs before he unbuttons his trousers, kissing you deeper as he bares himself completely to you.

“Now you,” he whispers, his lips dragging down your body and hovering over your belly, pressing languid kisses to each hip, and biting the skin lower down as he removes your clothes. His breath ghosts over your heat and sends a shudder up your spine, making you arch toward him. His lips roam the soft skin of your thigh, tantalizingly tracing his tongue up toward where you throb for him, and then moving back down leaving you writhing with desire. He gives the same treatment to the other thigh, teasing you with his soft lips until you’re groaning and desperate beneath him.

A surprisingly deft finger opens you to him and your mouth drops agape without a word, pleasure lodged in your throat until he curls his finger just so, pulling the wanton sounds from your lips. As you become more vocal, he strokes you more eagerly, his other hand massaging the plush skin of your body wherever he can reach, watching your face with fascination as he stokes a fire in your belly.

Just as he’s about to put his mouth on you, he feels your fingers tugging his hair, pulling him upward until your lips meld together once more.

“Need you.” The words come out as a growl into his mouth and you lift your hips pointedly to meet his. He hisses at the friction, nodding in understanding when you say, “Now.”

He enters slowly, feeling you stretch around him and engulf him in a heat he never wants to escape. It feels like a release of pressure even as pressure begins to build between your legs. It’s pain and pleasure and perfection all at once. He fills you so completely and he can’t help but think:

“Meant for me.”

He breathes the words out loud into your skin, lips trailing a burning path down your throat as he moves inside you, wicked sounds falling from your tongue when he hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

“What?” You gasp, but he doesn’t seem to hear.

Din kisses you everywhere he can reach, one hand interlocked with yours next to your head while the other pulls your leg higher and tighter around his back, giving him access to parts of you he gets to explore for the first time. It makes him think about the galaxies that always reflect in your eyes and how he’s getting to discover each one of them with you now.

“Or maybe,” he continues his previous thought, a sweet, gentle kiss placed over your heart. “Meant for you.”

His pace quickens and you dig your nails into his shoulders as an invisible coil tightens in your belly. He continues speaking low in your ear, some of the words foreign and others in Basic, though you still can’t understand for the life of you when he’s right there. As his thrusts become more erratic, your core ignites, and intense heat blossoms over your entire body like a flower. And it’s Din plucking each petal until all that’s left in your mind is one singular truth: he loves me. Your eyes screw shut and your toes curl and you’re out of breath and you feel heavy and light at the same time. He moans a ragged sound when he feels you reach your peak, squeezing him until he’s falling over the precipice right after you.

The room is awash in heavy breathing, a fiery warmth scorching every inch of your naked skin as you both pant to catch your breath. You’d like to stay like this forever, you think. No clothes, simply covered in Din. But eventually, he slowly pulls himself out of you and an aching, empty feeling settles in your stomach that screams for him to come back.

He hovers above you, not wanting to crush you with the immense weight he feels. But he can’t fight you when your hands wrap around his neck and mold his smile against yours, lips moving together like you can’t get enough.

You hold each other in silence, heated kisses cooling off into chaste pecks only when it feels too long since the last. Your breaths slow to a peaceful rhythm, hearts beating in time with each other to a secret song only you two know.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he breathes, the flight of his words spinning around the shell of your ear raises goosebumps on your skin.

“What does that mean?” You ask, your hand cupping his warm cheek.

When he looks at you, he sees ferocity, forgiveness, a future, a family. For so long, he never thought he could feel anything close to this. Then, he met Grogu and, just as quickly, had to say goodbye. But when you look at him with such goodness and grace — all he can think of is how he hopes you’ll stay looking at him like this until he dies.

“‘I love you,’” he answers. "Forever."

[READ EPILOGUE HERE]

End Note: We're almost at the end! I just have an epilogue planned. But hey, if you have any headcanons you'd like to see happen in this series, please send them my way! Maybe some blurbs could be arranged :) Mando’a Glossary: Cuyan = survivor [koo-YAHN] Kotep = brave [KOH-tehp] Mirdala = clever [MEER-dah-lah] Kotyc = strong [koh-TEESH] Ner kar’ta = My heart (kar’ta = heart [kah-ROH-ta]; ner = my [nair]) Mesh'la = beautiful [MAYSH`lah] Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum. = I know you forever [nee kar-TILE garh dah-RAH-soom] ⎿ “It's the same word as 'to know,' 'to hold in the heart,' kar'taylir. But you add darasuum, ‘forever,’ and it becomes something rather different.” — Republic Commando: Triple Zero

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jengis-morrangis · 3 years

Text

Keeping Warm

I got the idea to this story from artwork by the talented @3three-question-marks. I’d also like to thank @pacific-ship for her amazing help beta reading this story for me. Enjoy!

A cold breeze came flowing into the attic of the Mystery Shack as Dipper cracked the door slightly and quickly slid his way through. “Close the door, hurry!” Mabel commanded from her bed.

“Okay, okay!” Dipper said as he fidgeted with the door. The handle wasn’t working correctly, so after a few failed attempts to close the door by turning the knob and pushing it, he decided to forcefully barge his shoulder into it, causing it to jam shut.

He turned around to see Mabel sitting at the head of her bed. She was sitting up, legs crossed as she cupped the lantern between their bed with gloved hands. “My fingers are cold.” She whimpered dramatically.

Dipper brought his hands up to his face, balling them into fists and twisting them next to his eyes with a sad face in a non verbal ‘boo hoo.’ Mabel gasped in response, and Dipper just barely had enough time to duck as a pillow came flying over his head.

“Hey!” He shouted. Mabel smirked back at him.

“Could you toss that back to me?” She asked in her overly gentle voice she used when she asked for something.

“What? You really think I’m gonna give it back?”

Mabel flickered her eyelashes and smiled innocently. “Please?”

Dipper groaned. He paused for a moment as he thought. “What if I don’t?” He asked boldly.

“You will.” Mabel said with a smirk. Dipper raised his eyebrows as a challenge, and Mabel raised hers right back. Their impromptu staring contest stretched on for a moment before Dipper groaned again.

“Ugh. Fine.” He picked up the pillow and tossed it back to her. She caught it and hugged it snuggly to her chest.

“Thanks, Dip.”

“Don’t mention it.” He sat down on his bed and took off his outer coat. Mabel went back to cupping the lantern for warmth.

Winter in Gravity Falls was a whole different ball game than Piedmont. The twins knew this when they prepared for winter break in Gravity Falls by packing lots of cold weather clothes, but this was ridiculous. Soos had installed insulation during renovations to the shack, but it was still freezing cold.

To make matters worse, the heating to the shack had broken just before the twins arrived, so they had spent the entire first week of their trip doing whatever they could just to keep warm. They usually didn’t hang around the shack unless they were working. Instead, they’d go somewhere warmer, like the Gravity Falls public library or Greasy’s Diner. Anywhere to get out of the cold.

Unfortunately for them they couldn’t do that today. A massive blizzard had blown through town, and they had been snowed in, hardly able to even leave the shack. They had to find a way to stay warm. They were pleased to find a decent source of heat from the old, beat up wood furnace in the kitchen. The twins sat next to it and occasionally fed it wood during their game of cards.

At first it wasn’t very strong, so they had to sit next to it in winter clothing to keep warm, but by the end of the day they managed to warm the entire kitchen. They even had to take off their outer layers to keep from sweating. But of course, it couldn’t last, and soon the time came to sleep.

At first they thought about sleeping in the kitchen. They tried to lay out their sleeping bags, but it just wasn’t comfortable. Eventually they gave up and resigned to the freezing attic. Now here they were, desperately trying to keep warm.

”Jeez. It’s so cold up here. I’ve got no idea how we’re going to get any sleep.” Dipper grumbled. Mabel looked around the room at their beds and covers.

“Well Dip, I’ve got a fantabulous idea!” She grabbed her pillow and blanket before standing up and skipping excitedly across the room until she stood next to his bed. “Cuddle time!”

“O-okay.” He unfolded his arms from around his chest and scooted back on the bed to make room for her before extending his arms as if to greet her with a hug.

“Wait, what?” Mabel was thrown for a loop.

“What about what?”

“Just like that?”

“Just like what?”

“Usually you do that whole, ‘ugh Mabel I don’t wanna cuddle with you cause we’re way too old for that’ act, but I totally know you actually do wanna cuddle and you’re just faking it cause you wanna seem ‘grown up’ and all, then I gotta sweet talk you into it, then we cuddle and you pretend to not like it but I know you totally like it. So what gives? What’s the deal? You luring me into a trap or something? Gonna prank me?” She jokingly raised her fists in a defensive posture. Mostly jokingly.

Dipper sat in silence for a moment. His arms had lowered and his hands had fallen into his lap during Mabel’s rapid fire spiel. Mabel was ready for some sort of witty response. Instead, Dipper extended his arms out to Mabel again. “Please, Mabel. I’m so cold.”

Mabel was overwhelmed with sympathy and lowered her fists. She felt slightly guilty that she would think he would try to trick her. “Aw jeez, Dip. You’re such a cutie. I can’t say no to you.” She sat down on the bed next to him and they embraced each other.

It was nice to lay down next to Dipper, but it didn’t feel like they were actually cuddling with all these layers on. She wanted to actually feel his warmth. “Hey Dip, take your coat off.”

“What? Why?”

“Cause this isn’t real cuddling. I need skin contact!” She whined.

“But isn’t the whole point of this to stay warm?”

“Skin contact!”

“Okay, fine! Crybaby.” He grumbled.

“Fine then! With that attitude I’ll just go back to my own bed.” She started to get up, but was quickly stopped when Dipper wrapped her in a hug.

“No! Please, Mabel, I was joking! I’m sorry!” She chuckled as she sat back down.

“Alright, enough messing around. It’s cuddle time!”

“Yes ma’am.” Dipper replied as he took off his coat.

They laid their coats on top of themselves to provide an extra layer from the cold. They cuddled close and wrapped their arms around each other, pressing their bodies together and snaking their arms around each other. Mabel breathed a comfortable sigh of relief. Much better.

She had to admit that they were getting a bit too old for this. Or rather, too big. They were in their sophomore year of highschool, but thankfully were still able to fit on a single twin bed together.

Several minutes passed in blissful silence. Their breathing became steady and slow, and soon Mabel began dozing off into sleep. Unfortunately, her dozing was interrupted by Dipper shifting away from her. The gap between them left room for the cold air, which to Mabel, felt comparable to a cold bucket of water being dumped on her legs.

She quickly shifted closer to Dipper to close the gap between them and was satisfied by the warmth she found. She barely breathed a sigh of relief before Dipper shifted further away again. Mabel was especially annoyed once she realized he was keeping his distance intentionally.

“Diiiip, where are you going? Get back here bro!” Mabel whined. She tugged on him to draw him back to her, but he continued to resist her.

“N-no I don’t think we should get that cl-” Mabel linked her hands behind his back and pulled so that they collided together. He let out a high pitched squeak, squirmed out of her grasp and scurried away. But it was too late. In the short time that they were together, Mabel felt something brush against her thigh. Something warm, swollen and hard. She didn’t understand at first, but after a moment of eye contact with Dipper's flushed and embarrassed face, it dawned on her what was happening.

“Oh.”

“Ah jeez!” Dipper backed up so far he banged his head against the wall. He held his head where it hit and clenched his eyes shut. “I’m sorry, Mabel, I shouldn’t ha-”

“Dip!” She interrupted. He went silent and peeked up at her. She didn’t know how she was feeling about this exactly, but she did know she didn’t want to hear Dipper apologizing right now. She wasn’t offended, that was for sure, and she wasn’t angry. At the most she was a bit shocked, but she was more curious than anything else.

“Why… why is it… I mean… why?”

“W-what?”

Mabel took a moment to collect herself before trying to form an actual question. “I mean… I know why it’s like that but… what’s causing it?”

Dippers face was continuing to get redder by the second. He opened and closed his mouth a few times with no words coming out before he finally spoke. “Are we really talking about this?”

“Dip! You don’t need to-” She took a breath to dial herself back and remember the kind of state he was in. “You don’t need to be ashamed. I’m not angry or anything. I swear. Just be honest.”

”Well… you really… I mean… sorry, it’s freezing out and I guess cuddling with a pretty girl really made my body… react.”

“Oh…” Was all Mabel said before they fell back into silence. Mabel tapped her fingers together while Dipper rubbed his face in shame. ”You think I’m pretty?” she asked after a long pause.

Dipper gave an embarrassed laugh at that. The question caught him so off guard that he thought she was joking at first. It wasn’t until he looked up and saw the hurt and confusion on her face that he realized she was serious.

The smile disappeared from his face. She was trying to keep her face inscrutable, but Dipper saw the fear hiding behind her eyes. She looked so vulnerable, and he had laughed at her. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but he could tell she was hurt by him laughing. “Of course. You’re the one who’s always bragging about how cute you are.”

“Yeah I know that but… do you think I’m pretty?” Dipper looked down at the sheets at that, and even through the darkness Mabel could see a red tinge on his cheeks. He stayed like that for probably half a minute, silently considering what to say, hoping the darkness was concealing his embarrassment.

“Y-yeah.” He said it like a guilty man confessing to a crime.

She could tell she was blushing from that. She didn’t realize she had such an effect on Dipper. Mabel thought he was cute when he was embarrassed. But boner or not, she wanted to cuddle again.

“Well can we maybe… get back to cuddling?” Mabel asked.

“Y-you still wanna cuddle? Even after… even with my…” He gestured down to his crotch area, blushing even more than he already was.

“Yes Dip, I’m sure of it. Like you said; your body and mind are all out of whack, which is fine. So stop being weird.” She gave him a bright smile and poked him in the shoulder in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness.

He shrugged awkwardly. “O-okay, I guess.” He laid down on his side and lifted the blanket so that Mabel could join him, which she did with an enthusiastic smile and a light giggle. She wrapped him in a hug and nuzzled into his side. After several minutes they got back into a gentle rhythm of breathing.

Mabel felt safe and secure in his arms, just like she had before the whole awkward cuddling boner situation unfolded. Speaking of which, she could still feel tension in his pajamas, a clear hint that it hasn’t gone away yet. Not that she minded, it’s not like he could control it.

She thought again about what he had said, ‘cuddling with a pretty girl…’ She felt butterflies flutter in her stomach at the memory of those words. His words were so simple, yet so genuine. She could tell that he meant it.

She turned her head up to look at him, and found him looking down at her. His eyes were different. There was an intense energy behind them that she couldn’t name, but it made her butterflies flap even harder. The feeling of comfort mixed with nervousness inside Mabel.

He was handsome, she thought. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek as he did the same for her, rubbing a thumb across her jaw and making her skin tingle.

They were staring each other in the eyes, briefly flickering their gazes down to each other's lips.

”Hey dudes! I got the heat fixed!” They suddenly heard Soos call up the stairs and his footsteps coming closer.

They briefly shared a look of terror before Mabel lunged to her bed, almost tripping on the blankets. She was sitting on her bed when the door creaked open and Soos peeked in.

”Hey dudes, I fixed the heat- woah! What happened?”

It was at this moment that Mabel realized how they looked. They were both red in the face and breathing heavily. Dipper was on his bed with both their blankets and Mabel was sitting on her bed awkwardly.

”You okay dude?” He asked Mabel. “You look red as a tomato.”

”Yeah, I’m fine. Just… hot.” She said as she glanced toward Dipper.

”Really?” Soos sounded puzzled. “Well if that’s the case then I guess I’ll just leave the heat off-”

“No! No!” The twins interrupted, causing Soos to jump.

“Sorry… please keep it on.” Dipper said more calmly.

Soos looked between the two of them with a mixture of suspicion and confusion. “........You got it dudes!” He said before closing the door. His footsteps soon disappeared down the stairs.

The twins looked at one another. A million thoughts ran through their heads about what just happened, and what could have happened if they were caught doing what they were just doing. Soos probably wouldn’t think anything of it. They hugged, held hands and sat side by side on the couch all the time. But this was different, there was something more to what they just shared. Mabel thought. Or hoped.

It started off as a giggle between them, but soon they were both laughing heartily, the noise bouncing around the attic and neither of them could contain themselves. Soon it died down and everything was silent again. They stared at each other for a moment before averting their gaze. Mabel felt the cold grip of embarrassment as she wrung her hands. She had no idea what to say.

“Hey.” She looked up to see him toss her blanket over to her and she caught it just in time. She spread the blanket around her bed and laid back, then looked up to see Dipper laying on his back and smoothing out his sheets and pillow. He stopped and looked over at her.

He had a gentle smile on his face that perfectly communicated how he felt, and she knew they felt the exact same way: There was something more behind what they just shared. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something deeply personal and intimate. And they were both totally cool with it. That made Mable’s insides goey for some reason.

“Goodnight, Mabel.”

“Goodnight, Dipper. I love you.” Every muscle in Mabel’s body tensed as she realized what she had just said. She sat motionlessly in terrified silence, wondering why she said that. Then she wondered why something she had said thousands of times suddenly felt so different. It felt as though an eternity had passed before Dipper's response came.

“I love you too, Mabel.” Her horror evaporated in a second. The icy grip of embarrassment was suddenly replaced with a gooey warmth that made her face hot and built pressure in her stomach. She wondered why something she’d heard constantly from him was suddenly turning her into such a nervous, sweaty mess. She had no clue why anything this evening had happened the way it did. All she knew was that she was in way over her head.

Uh oh.

===

The attic was warm. Well, warmer.

Mabel lies alone in her bed. She had shed her winter clothes and changed into her pajamas. There was no need now that the heating was fixed.

She was so glad to finally have a sanctuary from the frigid cold. Now they didn’t have to loiter somewhere just to stay warm. But she couldn’t feel totally at ease. She was warm enough to sleep, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough to sleep. Tonight felt incomplete, like she had unfinished business.

She laid on her side, looking at her brother. Her eyes were barely open, just a sliver as she stared at him through the darkness. He was still in his pajamas, his orange nightshirt. He was laying with his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, seeming to be in deep thought.

She wanted so badly to be in his arms again and feel his warmth.

Mabel always thought it was cute when he made his thinking face when he didn’t think anyone was looking. The way his eyebrows would furrow and he would have a focused look in his eyes and his nose would scrunch slightly. This could be caused by any range of emotions, this time he seemed anxious.

He looked over at her, and she quickly shut her eyes. “Mabel. Mabel, are you awake?” He asked. She stayed silent. She didn’t want to talk. She was still shaken by what happened earlier, and they haven’t spoken since. She knew that any conversation they had would inevitably lead to it, and she had no idea what to say. She felt so awkward, something she rarely felt, and she hated every time she felt it.

She heard him shift slightly and could tell that he went back to staring at the ceiling. She slowly cracked her eyes open again, and saw that he had. Suddenly she felt a tickle in her nose. It was growing fast, and she couldn’t stop it before she inhaled and let out a quick sneeze.

There was a moment of silence and Mabel shut her eyes again. No doubt Dipper was looking at her. She was waiting for him to go back to looking at the ceiling so she could—

“You know it’s physically impossible to sneeze while sleeping, right?” Mabel could hear the grin on Dipper's face. Mabel cursed herself internally. Was that true? Is he just trying to trick her? Dangit Dipper!

Mabel groaned as she propped herself up on her pillow to make eye contact with him. “Ugh, jeez. You’re such a dork. Why do you know so much useless garbage.”

“It’s not useless if it came in handy, is it?” Dipper said, still smiling.

“Ugh, mega dork!”

They stared at each other for a little. Not breaking eye contact other than to blink. Dipper’s cocky grin had faded, and now his eyes seemed to be full of questions he was too afraid to ask. Mabel was sure she probably looked the same. But it wasn’t just that. There was something else in his eyes. Something powerful. Something she had only ever seen earlier when they were cuddling during their brief eye contact. It scared her.

“Can’t sleep?” Dipper broke the silence.

“Nope.”

“Still cold? I could give you my jacke—”

“No it’s not that.” Mabel felt her insides tingle at his concern. Gosh he’s such a sweetheart. “Just… lonely…” She said vaguely.

Dipper scoffed lightly. “Lonely? I’m right here!”

“Yeah, aaaaall the way over there.” Dippers eyebrows raised slightly. He seemed to understand, but didn’t say anything. He was silent for a moment, clearly thinking. He seemed nervous about whatever he was mulling about in his mind.

“Want to… come over? We could have a sleepover?”

Her smile spread into a grin and her heart began beating faster again. “Y-yes… I’d love that!” Her face erupted with a huge smile and Dipper’s face mirrored her in turn.

Wrapping herself in her blanket, she journeyed across the creaking wooden floor to Dipper’s bed. He scooted away closer to the wall to make space for her before she laid down next to him. She curled right into his chest and they intertwined their legs so just about every part of them was touching.

Whatever questions or worries they had could wait for another time. But for now, they could enjoy each other's warmth.

#myfics #pinecest

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