#still want to cry and throw up but now the anger is here too yay for me

[douwatahima]

max literally cut their budget nearly in half, forced them (most likely through the lack of budget) to condense the season down to eight episodes, messed around with the plot so much that we know stuff about the polycule had to be cut (and who knows what else) and yet the cast and crew still pulled out a season that was beloved by critics and managed to stay in the top ten most watched shows on the platform for weeks after the season ended

and yet they couldn't give them one more fucking season

#tv: our flag means death #ofmd #brb setting fire to their offices #still want to cry and throw up but now the anger is here too yay for me

[dbnightingale24]

Salt and Vinegar

Andy Barber One Shot

~~

Ya know, these really are supposed to be one shots, idk why I am the way that I am. TECHNICALLY, this is the second half of ‘Menace In The Sheets, Menace In The Sheets’, but I’m just gonna go ahead and call this part 2, because why not? Yes, this is another fucking novel, because I have no sense of anything at this point in my life. You do get pictures in this one tho, so yay!! I was gonna stop it here, but I’ve been toying around with idea of a part 3...so ya’ll are getting a part 3. I am, as the kids like to say, a sucker. Anywho, buckle up and enjoy another angsty novel by yours truly.

Also, and still very important, SUPPORT SEX WORKERS!!!!

Thanks :) 

Word Count: 29,947 (at least its not 30,000)

Warnings: MINORS DNI!!! SMUT, Very public sex, lying, arguing, drinking, crying, angst, depression, fear, anxiety, fluff, Daddy Kink, manipulation, heartbreak, self hate/anger...ya know, the usual slutty angsty shit I post. 

Song(s) That Inspired This: I’m sorry I’m such a trainwreck of a person. Love me anyway.

Summary: Love is something you never really believed in, but now that you’re deep in it, what do you do when it starts to turn more toxic than healthy?

I do not give consent for any of my works/posts/stores to get posted elsewhere.

~~

“Andy, you constantly say it’s my place, but you come and go as you please, and have your own fucking key,” you sigh, annoyed that you two are having the same argument yet again.

“If no one’s coming over, what’s the issue?”

“I’m sorry, don’t you still go to the fucking club?”

“Y/N-”

“You know what? Fuck it. I don’t fucking care. I’m not doing this with you again. I don’t have the fucking energy and frankly, I just don’t feel like it. You do whatever the fuck you want,” you concede, throwing your hands up as you get off the sofa.

“Baby stop, I’m sorry,” he says softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You’re always fucking sorry.”

“I know I am. I don’t want to argue. We always seem to argue.”

“Well, I wonder whose fucking fault that is.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Whatever Andy, let me go.”

“No, I’ve been thinking about you all day and I missed you like crazy. I wanna spend time with you.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna spend time with you.”

“Yes you do,” he chuckles before kissing the hollow of your neck.

“I hate you.”

“I hate me too, Baby.”

“How was work?”

“Long, annoying, pointless.”

“Why do you keep doing it if you’re not happy there?”

“Pays well.”

“No, the shady shit you do on the side pays well.”

“It’s not shady.”

“Then tell Lynne about it.”

“You’re annoying, did you know that?”

“You’re putting it nicely,” you smirk. “What do you want for dinner?”

“I’ll cook tonight, it’s only fair.”

“Oh? What brought this on? Something happen that you don’t wanna tell me about?”

“Stop it. I just feel bad. You’ve made dinner for the last week and I’ve been an asshole. I came over today and started an argument, so let me just make it up to you.”

“All you do is start arguments,” you scoff as you break out of his hold and make your way into the kitchen.

“I’m trying to make nice, babe,” Andy sighs, finally shrugging off his coat.

“Yeah yeah.”

“Did you do anything fun today?”

“I argued with Vivian, again, so that was time consuming,” you shrug as you grab two glasses.

“What’s she mad about now?”

“What isn’t she mad about? She said that it was unfair for me to sell everything without talking to her first.”

“What right does she have to anything?”

“Hence the reason for the argument,” you nod as you pour the both of you a glass of whiskey.

“That’s bullshit. I’m guess your Father had something to say about it?”

“Eh, he still just wants to take me out to lunch. At this point, I could murder someone and he’d just shrug it off because he doesn’t want me mad at him anymore,” you laugh before hoping up and sitting on the counter by the sink. “I’m gonna go and see him next Thursday.”

“Yeah?”

“If it means he’ll leave me alone, I’m more than happy to sit through a meal with him.”

“You don’t see yourself forgiving him any time soon?”

“What for? I have no interest in having a relationship with him. I’ve been fine after all of these years, so there’s no use in fixing what isn’t broken.”

“That’s a fair point,” he mumbles making his way over to you and settling himself between your legs. “You think you wanna move that dinner date to another week though?”

“Hmm? Why?”

“I wanna take you away this weekend.”

“Take me away? We can’t do it another weekend?”

“Well, I bought the tickets this morning so-”

“Tickets? Baby, what did you do?” you groan, wrapping your arms around him.

“I’ve been officially divorced for a month. I wanna celebrate and I wanna celebrate with you only.”

“Where are you taking us, Andy?”

“You’ve been saying how nice it would be to go to Hawaii, so-”

“You didn’t!”

“I did,” Andy laughs as you wrap your legs around him.. “We’ve both had a rough go of it, so I figured 2 weeks away would be good for us.”

“Baby...I-”

“I wanted to do this, it wasn’t too much, and I want you to be happy,” he interrupts before kissing the hollow of your neck.

“Andy I-”

“I know, Sweetheart.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. I love making you happy,” he grins before biting your neck.

“Fuck,” you moan, arching your back and leaning into him a bit more. “I thought you were gonna make dinner.”

“Dinner can wait,” he mumbles against your neck.. “I wanna fill you with something else before I feed you,” he husks as he unbuttons his pants.

“Miss me?”

“So much, baby. Gonna show you just how much,” he groans as he pulls your sweatpants down. “My sweet, sweet girl,” he sighs as he thrusts himself inside of you. “So good and all mine.”

This has become routine for the both of you. You argue, pick petty fights, fuck, and make up. You took Andy up on his offer 2 months ago and its been a heavenly nightmare ever since.

Yeah, Andy spends most of his time with you, but not all of his time. While you barely ever work at the club, he spends a good amount of his free time there. When everything happened with your Mother, Andy did spend all of his time with you and it was heaven. He came home to you, looked after you, helped you focus on what truly mattered, and made sure you never slept alone.

He truly was everything you wanted him to be and more.

But you could see him pulling away more and more as time passed. It’s not like he ever lied to you and magically decided that he was ready for a relationship because you were sad, but that’s what you wanted. That’s what you talked yourself into waiting for.

“Then what’s the point of all this, Andy?! Why did you do this?!” you yelled, storming out of the bedroom after him.

“I don’t know why you’re picking a fight when I never fucking told you that I wanted to be with only you,” he spat as he put his shoes on.

“Ya know what? You’re right. My fucking fault, I thought we were getting somewhere, but that was my mistake. We all have to live with the mistakes Laurie made, which is why we’ll never really be together, right?”

“Y/N-”

“No Andy, you wanna keep fucking around, so keep fucking around! Why should I care? You pay my rent, so what right do I have to complain?” you questioned as you put your own shoes on.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!”

“To work, Andy. You fuck who you want and I fuck who I want, right? We don’t belong to one another, we don’t love each other, and we’re just friends who fuck occasionally, right?”

“Don’t you fucking dare-”

“What? Don’t I fucking dare what, Andy? Do the same shit you do? Earn my fucking paycheck? Fuck someone else? Don’t I dare what? Treat you like you treat me?!”

“Y/N, I swear to God, you walk out that fucking door, I’ll-”

“You’ll fucking what? What will you do, Andy? Cause it’s pretty fucking obvious you’re never gonna let me go, so what the fuck will do? Break my heart and fuck someone else who isn’t me?”

“Sweetheart-”

“I didn’t fucking think so,” you scoffed, taking your jacket off the hook. “You aren’t gonna do shit because you never do anything. You just keep me in limbo because it fucking works for you.”

“Don’t fucking test me, Sweetheart,” he warns as you grab your car keys.

“Go to hell, I’m over this shit,” you spat as you went to reach for the door.

“You think I’m not trying to be better for you?” Andy rasped as he grabbed your wrist, forcing you to spin around and face him. “You don’t think I wanna be better for you?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you want,” you rasped as he pinned you against the door.

“I think I made my intentions pretty fucking clear when I fucked you on the hood of your car two weeks ago,”he growled lowly as he got your jeans undone and down around your ankles. “Remember when I fucked you right outside of the club, for everyone to see?” he questioned as he slid one of his hands down your panties.

“Stop it, Andy” you moaned, loving and hating the pleasurable sensation he caused between your legs.

“In fact, if I remember correctly, the more people that watched, the more you got off.”

“Fuck you!”

“Oh, you did so well that night,” he taunted as he undid his own pants. “You love being my little slut, don’t you?” he mused before forcing your legs around his waist and thrusting himself inside of you.

“Jesus Andy!” you squealed, relishing in the way he always pulled you apart.

“You’re mine, Sweetheart. Don’t ever fucking forget that,” he growled as you clenched around him. “Always so desperate for it rough!”

“I fucking hate you, Andy. I hate you so fucking much!” you mewled, running your hands through his hair as you grind your hips against his.

“Doesn’t feel like you hate me so much when you respond to me so well!”

“You’re such an asshole!”

“Be that as it may,” he grunted as his hold on you got tighter, “you’re still here with me, you’re still waiting for me, and you’re still in just as deep as I am. You belong to me just like I belong to you,” he muttered against your neck before biting and sucking on it.

“Fuck! If you belong to me, stop fucking going there! Fucking...fucking...fuck, I’m so close!” you cried out, your head and your heart in two different places. “Wish I could quit you,” you confessed as you came hard for him.

“I’m so fucking glad you can’t,” he husked as he spilled his seed into you, loosing his balance only a little.

You both stayed that way for a minute, your breathing heavy, as you both slowly came down from your highs.

“I want to do better for you, Y/N,” Andy groaned as he slowly pulled out of you then set you down gently. “I know I’m confusing and hard to make heads or tails of, but I’m trying. I’m really trying, because I do want to be more than just this. I just...I’m still working through some shit.”

“I’m tired of only having part of you, Andy. I deserve better than only being here for your convenience,” you sniffled as you pushed him away from you.

“Sweetheart-”

“Either choose me or don’t, but stop playing hot and cold with me,” you told him gently before making your way back to the bedroom.

He didn’t sleepover that night and you knew he felt bad. Unbeknownst to you, he didn’t go to the club either. He just went back to his place and cried. He left you alone for two days before finally caving and texting you.

Headache: I miss you

It’s so sad how something so simple held so much weight in your heart, but that’s all it took for you to cave and take him back.

You always take him back.

“What do you want for dinner?” Andy pants as he lays his head in the crook of your shoulder.

“To fucking sleep,” you giggle, gaining a small chuckle from him, as you wrap your arms around him. “Salmon? Salmon and broccoli with lemon and butter, like you did last time!” you beam before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Ya know, I am capable of making you other dinners,” he scoffs.

“Yeah, but that’s one of my favorites,” you pout as Andy just scowls and shakes his head, before pulling out of you. And that makes you groan in dissatisfaction.

“None of that, go lay down. I’ll come and get you when dinner is ready.”

“Are you staying over tonight?”

“Yes ma’am. I told you I missed you and I wanna spend as much time with you as I can.”

“You can spend all your time with me, if you want.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I know...I know,” you sigh, hoping off the counter, and softly pushing him aside,before pulling your sweatpants up.

“I’m trying, Y/N. I’m working on it and I truly only want to be with you.”

“If that were enough, you’d only be with me.”

“Y/N-”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Andy. I just wanna have a nice night with you,” you smile softly before making your way to the bedroom.

“Baby-”

“Let me know when dinner is ready,” you call over your shoulder before closing the door behind you.

You hear the heavy sigh that escapes his lips before the door closes and your heart breaks. You know he’s trying, that fact has never been lost on you. It would be easy to write the whole thing off as him lusting over you, if Andy wasn’t...Andy.

The ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts you receive whenever you aren’t with him, the calls you receive when he’s on his lunch break just because he wants to hear your voice, the flowers you get weekly (always a different arrangement of your favorites), the way he holds you close during movies or when it’s time for bed, the soft kisses on your forehead when you two are out in public, when he tells you that you’re the most beautiful woman hes ever seen when you’re in sweats and shoveling ice cream into your mouth like you’ll never get to eat it again...those things and so many more. Andy’s heart and mind are in the right place, but emotionally, he just isn’t there.

And who are you to judge him for that?

It’s not as if you don’t feel stupid, waiting on a brokenhearted grown man to get his shit together, but you also can’t stop. God, the amount of times you’ve tried your hardest and failed miserably is now at an embarrassingly high count, but how can you stop? He’s the only person you’ve ever truly cared for romantically, and took up all the space in your heart. It would be so much easier to walk away and hate him if you felt like he was trying to manipulate your feelings, but you can tell by his actions that he isn’t.

When he tells you that he’s going out for the night, but comes back 10 minutes later, never saying anything but pulling you close instead and resting his head on yours before placing soft kisses into your hair. The fact that he not only introduced you to Jacob, but referred to you as his absolute best friend. The nights he stays over and ignores his phone, focusing only on you and what’s making you happy or sad at the moment. The surprise visits with your favorite food from your favorite places. No, if Andy wanted to manipulate the situation, he easily could and would, because he’s never been one to mince words or lie about what he really wants. Plus, ever since he told you he loves you, he hasn’t hidden a single thing from you, no matter how much it may hurt either of you.

Of course, you suggested you two not seeing each other for a while until he sorted his shit out, but that didn’t go well.

At all.

“I don’t see what’s wrong with the idea,” you sighed, as you both sat in the living room, on your sofa. “You’re already going out and sleeping with-”

“That’s not the same and you know it,” he muttered, refusing to meet your gaze.

“Andy-”

“If you find someone else, that means that this is over, and I don’t want to lose you. You don’t just give your time and attention to just anyone. Hell, I had to fucking pay for it.”

“Wow, didn’t know you planned on being a dick tonight,” you snapped before getting off the sofa and storming into the kitchen.

“You know I’m right, Sweetheart,” he sighed, following right behind you. “If you give someone else your attention, the way you give it to me, that means you’re truly and completely interested and open to the idea of being with them. With me, it’s just something to keep my guard up because you know you’re the only one I-”

“Andy, I know you hear just how selfish you’re being right now.”

“When did I ever say I wasn’t selfish? When hasn’t that been something you haven’t known? Didn’t I just beat the shit out of Tyler last week for not backing off of you?”

“Well, maybe if someone hadn’t lost his temper and fucked me on the roof of my car, Tyler wouldn’t have thought that he’d have a chance to make me his little whore.”

“Don’t.”

“What? Don’t what Andy?”

“You know you aren’t some woman I only go to see to get my fucking rocks off. Where am I right now? Where am I most nights? Here, with you. You’re the only person i want to be with and I’m sorry. I’m sorry because this is my fault, I’m sorry that I’m always sorry, I’m sorry that I keep hurting you, I’m sorry that I can’t just trust you...Y/N, I’m fucking sorry. You know I-”

“I know you what, Andy? Care about me? Love me?” you sobbed, your frustration equally placed between the two of you. “Cause you only told me the one time and then you weren’t even sure if you meant it.”

“Y/N-”

“But it clearly worked, because here I am waiting for you, like a fool. Loving you, like a fool. But we don’t talk about it, right? We never have that talk, and I just...I keep fucking waiting.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I’m tired and I’m going to bed. You do whatever you want. Stay here, go out, go to your own place, whatever. I don’t care,” you sighed as you wiped away your tears before making your way to your bedroom.

Andy stayed with you that night and held you close, and you let him because he’s all you wanted. All of your emotions and thoughts always went back to him, and you were tired of trying to stop them.

When it came to work, you barely ever went in anymore, but Andy made Samantha keep you on payroll. Though you begged him to stop paying you, Andy only agreed to stop when you found a stable job. That would’ve been easy enough if Andy would stop going back and forth with you about the simple jobs you found.

“You can do so much better than waitressing,” Andy sighed as you rolled your eyes.

“I’m good at it, Andy. Bar tending and waitressing are two things I’m really good at, so I’ll make more than enough-”

“Why not be an assistant or secretary? You get benefits and that’s something you’re gonna need.”

“I feel like that’s something you want me to do, so I can work for you.”

“I mean, I really do wanna fuck you on my desk.”

“Andy.”

“You know I love being honest with you,” he shrugged with a devilish smirk.

“I wanna do something I’m comfortable with.”

“Getting out of your comfort zone could be good for you.”

“What are you afraid of, baby?” you questioned, straddling him.

“I’m not-”

“Don’t lie to me, Andy. You should know better by now.”

He let out a heavy sigh as he rested his hands on your hips. “I don’t want you to find someone else.”

“Andy-”

“I know I know,” he muttered “I have no right and it’s up to you to be with and do whatever you want, but I don’t want...you mean everything to me, Y/N. Yeah, I may be a little slow to get to the point, but Jesus, if I could just put into words just how much you actually mean to me,” he chuckled humorlessly.

You dip down and kiss him deeply and wrap your arms around him. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?” you breathed once you two broke apart.

“For now.”

The pain in his voice broke your heart. “Honey-”

“I’m trying, Sweetheart, I promise. The pain is still there and the wound is still fresh. I don’t believe that you’d ever hurt me like that and I know you can’t live your life to make me happy, but I also know that I don’t make any of this easy. I’m positive that there’s someone out there, way more deserving, that will make all of this easier.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged “but they’re not you. As long as we take our time and are up front with each other, we’ll be okay. We can figure this out.”

“You really think so?”

“I really do,” you smiled at him.

“Dinner’s gonna be ready soon,” Andy states softly as he makes his way into your bedroom.

“Okay babe.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”

“We’ve been having the same argument for weeks, Andy. I’m tired of talking about it. I’m not shutting you out, I’m just coping,” you mope as ‘Real Thing’ by Lights starts playing. “All I do these days is cope,” you mutter.

“I’m gonna stop going,” he responds softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m not gonna say that I’m gonna be here every night, but I’m gonna stop going to the club.”

“Are you gonna stop sleeping around?”

“Yeah, I figure that’s a good place to start,” he scoffs softly “but I’m still not ready to commit or be in a relationship,” he states firmly.

‘Fuck you when you fuck me over’

“However, I am ready to tell you I love you and that I mean it.”

‘But I’ll be here to hold when you call me over’

You’re slow to sit up, but the smile that comes to your face is almost instant. “Say it again.”

He grins “I love you.”

“Again,” you beg as you tackle and wrap your arms around him.

“I love you,” he laughs softly, wrapping his arms around. “I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.

“I think this is a good start,” you smile at him, straddling him.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, cause I love you too, Andy.”

“And that better not change, Sweetheart.”

“I don’t think you could’ve planned this trip at a better time for this trip.”

“Yeah?”

“ This will be good for us,” you smile sweetly.

Andy cups your face in his hands before pulling you close and kissing you deeply. “I love you and I’ll never get tired of telling you that,” he breathes once you two break apart.

“You’re gonna burn dinner,” you giggle against his lips.

“Fuck dinner.”

“I’m hungry!” you groan as he laughs.

“Fine, come with me?”

“Mhm,” you smile at him before giving him another quick kiss and getting off of him.

The entire time you stand with him while he makes dinner, he talks about the plans he has for Hawaii and how early you two are gonna have to get up. As you sit and listen to him go on about everything, you can’t help but get lost in the happiness you feel of him saying the world’s most simple, yet most complicated sentence in the world.

However, there’s still the reality of you dealing with your friends, and none of that is simple.

“So, you’re gonna stay with him?” Allison asks, sitting on her sofa beside you.

“You don’t think I should?”

“Listen, I’m happy he’s not coming to the club anymore, and I’m happy he’s not sleeping around, but...”

“But?”

“You don’t feel the slightest bit bad for Mary?”

“It always come back to Mary,” you scoff, leaning back.

“I know what she did was fucked up, and I know you’re not doing this out of spite, but she’s so hurt and lonely.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“She was your best friend, Y/N,” Allison sighs. “Your childhood best friend-”

“Until she fucked it up.”

“I know, but if you stay with Andy, there’s little to no chance of reconciliation.”

“So, I should put my happiness on hold to make her happy?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“That’s exactly what you’re saying.”

“Ugh, what I’m trying to say is to make sure that he’s worth it. Make sure all of this is worth it. Yeah, he loves you and that’s great, I’m truly happy for you, but Andy does things at his own pace.”

“That’s not fair, Allison. There’s so much more that you don’t know.”

“I know that you’ve cried over him and that’s all I need to know. I’ve never seen you in love with anyone, and while I’m happy to see you this happy and excited, I don’t think you should let your guard down so soon. Yeah, it’s nice to hear sweet things, but pay attention to his actions. They speak the loudest,” she sighs before grabbing her beer and taking a sip of it.

Your heart breaks a little, because you know she doesn’t want you to fall into the same trap that she did with Tyler. “You two get into another argument?”

“Yeah, it was bad. Really fucking bad.”

“How bad is ‘really fucking bad’?”

“I threw a glass at him. Missed his head by half an inch,” she chuckles humorlessly, slouching down further. “When the fuck did I become this person? Why can’t I just leave?”

“Trust me, I’m right there with you,” you mutter, pouring yourself a glass of wine and curling up on the sofa.

“You think about leaving Andy?”

“At least three times a week,” you chuckle.

“I thought-”

“That’s what everyone thinks. I’m not as caught up as everyone thinks. I know they’re flaws, I see the issues, and I have to deal with the heartache. However, no one sees Andy the way I do. No one knows him like I do, and I guess that’s something we have in common, because I don’t let anyone know me like he does. The way he looks at me, the way he holds me, the time he takes to really check on me and make sure that I’m okay...trust me, I have my reasons for staying,” you smirk. “Do you?”

“At this point? I really don’t think so. It’s just better than being alone.”

“You’re not alone, babe. You don’t need him to make you feel normal or worthy. I know none of it is easy, but some one who’s actually worthy of your time and love will want to be better for you. Will do better for you.”

“Is Andy doing that for you?”

“He’s trying to and I’m trying to let him.”

“I guess we’re both idiots.”

“I guess so,” you chuckle leaning into her. “We’re gonna talk about a lot all of this when we’re in Hawaii. The distance from everything and everyone will be good.”

“Please just don’t get sucked up into-”

“I know, hun. I know,” you nod, taking a sip of your wine. “I’m doing the best I can to keep my head above water.”

The days leading up to Hawaii were probably the most stressful days you’ve had in a while, and the only person you really want to talk to, you can’t. You miss your Mother every day and you wish you had her to guide you with all of this shit. She somehow always seemed to know the answer to every question and what to do in every situation. Yeah, she liked Andy, but would she want you to wait for him like you are? Would she want you to risk your happiness for someone who can’t make heads or tails of what he wants? Would she want you to trust your feelings and your heart? Would she want you to trust him?

If only she had more time.

By the time you two are finally on the plane, your head is going a million miles a minute.

“What’s going on with you, Sweetheart?” Andy asks as you both take your seats in first class.

“Just...just adjusting, I guess.”

“You’ve been far away since I told you I love you and about this trip. What’s going on?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now,” you smile softly at him. “I just wanna focus on this trip.”

“You believe me when I tell you that I love you, right?”

“More than you know, we’ve just been through a lot...all of this is a lot,” you chuckle softly. “We’ll talk about it in a few days. Right now, I just wanna  be in the moment with you.”

Andy leans over and kisses you deeply, cupping your face in his hands. “This is gonna be good for us.”

“I think so too,” you nod, before a playful grin tugs at your lips. “You really think you’ll be able to keep your hands to yourself for 11 hours?”

The grin that comes to Andy’s face is dangerous and has you excited in all the ways you shouldn’t be. “Now, when did I ever agree to that?”

Andy is able to keep his hands to himself for all of 2 hours before he’s dragging you into the bathroom and pinning you against the door.

“Fuck baby,” you moan as quietly as you can as thrusts himself inside of you.

“You have no fucking idea how beautiful you look right now,” he rasps as he fucks you against the door.

“We could get caught!”

“That’s half the fun,” he smirks before starting to bite on the most sensitive part of your neck that you love the most, before soothing it with his tongue.

“Baby please!” you beg, wrapping your legs around him tighter, your hands running through his hair.

“Quiet Sweetheart, don’t wanna get us kicked off, do you?” he taunts with a devilish grins as he looks up at you being a wrecked mess above him, only making you clench around him. “That’s right, my sweet girl loves when people watch, how could I forget?”

“Andy,” you mindlessly mumble, feeling both arousal and shame at the memory of him fucking you into oblivion on the hood of your car, out in the open for everyone to see.

“Cause you’re mine, right? I can fuck you anywhere and in front of anyone, can’t I?”

“Fuck...fuck yes!” you mewl, arching your back as your release builds and that knot in your core tightens.

“I wanna watch you explode for me, Baby. Need to fucking see it,” he grunts as he relentlessly fucks into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out as softly as you can, going over that cliff of pure ecstasy and bliss that only he’s capable of sending you over.

“I fucking love you,” Andy rasps, spilling his seed into you.

You both stay there for a moment, trying to come down from your highs, before Andy finally slowly sets you down after pulling out.

“There’s no way no one knows what we did,” you giggle as you clean yourself up.

“They didn’t see anything, so they can’t prove anything,” he shrugs as he gets himself back into his pants.

“Baby-”

“Welcome to the Mile High Club, Sweetheart,” he grins before kissing your lips and making his way out.

You can’t help but laugh and shake your head as you continue to clean yourself up and look yourself over in the mirror. You wait a few more minutes before quickly making your way out and back to your seat, only to find Andy mindlessly flipping through an airplane magazine. You flip him off as you take your seat.

‘You just did,’ he mouths with a coy grin and you can’t help but burst out laughing.

When the stewardess walks by, about 15 minutes later, taking drink orders, neither of you miss the disapproving and irritated look she shoots towards the both of you. The moment she’s out of ear shot, you both burst out laughing.

The rest of the flight goes smooth (with Andy only fingering you once), and you’re almost able to forget. Almost able to forget about all of the complications between you and Andy. How you two got to where you are. It doesn’t help that he makes it so easy to forget when he wants to.

That’s part of why you just can’t walk away.

Even though he does his best to hide it, it’s easy to tell by his actions that he’s genuinely always been a sweet man. He’s thoughtful, funny, caring, loving, and affectionate. So insanely affectionate. You’ve come to the conclusion, that when everything happened with Laurie, that’s when his attitude towards everything changed, and that’s something you can relate to more than you care to express.

It explains why he never let himself get too close to Mary, why he was such an ass to all the girls, why he’s so scared of actually committing to you, and why he works so damn hard to show that he doesn’t care.

He cares about everything entirely too much.

So, that’s how you’re always reasoning with yourself to stay. You see him making effort to tear down walls that he was determined to keep up forever, and you know it takes time. You know how hard it is because you’re doing the same damn thing.

But that’s when the argument between your head and your heart starts.

Shouldn’t that be a reason for you to stay away? For you two to both get your shit together before jumping into anything? No, it’s very obviously not impossible for two broken people to fall in love, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t wait until they have it more together to figure shit out.

However, you shake the thoughts of your head as you both approach the house Andy rented for the both of you.

“Andy,” you gasp, marveling at the large, tropical oasis.

The man spends way too much money on you.

“Is it okay?” he asks and you can tell that he’s genuinely anxious. “I know you like to be far away from the outside world, but not too far. I figure that we’re a good ways away from the-”

He’s cut off by you crashing your lips into his, as you wrap your arms around him. “It’s fucking gorgeous. Thank you, Andy. Thank you so much for everything, I love you,” you smile at him.

“And I love you.”

He gives you the keys before grabbing the bags and you both make your way into the house. You just stand there and look around in pure ‘awe’. The view, high ceilings, the marble bathrooms, the pool...it truly was your own private getaway.

Your heart feels full as you continue to make your way through the house, and you find yourself just wanting to stay there forever. Just you and Andy in your own little perfect getaway. No drama with friends or ex’s, no secrets, no fear, no anxiety, no one else, just each other. Free to love one another without any reservations.

You haven’t even been at the place a full 10 minutes and you’re ready to uproot your whole life just to be with Andy in total and complete happiness.

“Do you really like it?” Andy asks softly, walking up behind and snaking his arms around you in the bedroom.

“I love it.”

“Are you happy?”

“I’m always happy with you, Andy. Even when I’m not.”

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I don’t know, I guess you’re God’s favorite,” you smirk, turning around and facing him while still in his hold. “You know, you’ve been really mean lately, Daddy,” you pout, looking up at him, your eyes innocent but tone seductive.

“I have been, Kitten. I’m sorry,” he practically whines. The look in his eyes changing from love to full blown loving lust.

“Are you really sorry?”

“You know I am.”

“Then get on your knees and show me just how sorry you are,” you demand softly, raising an eyebrow as you stare up at him with innocent eyes.

Andy keeps his heated gaze on you as he gets on his knees and slowly unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down. When he goes to pull down your panties you’re quick to slap his hand away.

“Teeth, Daddy. You know what I like,” you taunt.

Andy’s quick to get his teeth on your panties and pull them down slowly, as you bite your bottom lip and keep your eyes on him.

Yeah, you want Andy in the most desperate way (when don’t you?), but this little act is more for him than you. You know he loves it when you surprise him and take control of the situation. The only thing Andy loves more than controlling you is you controlling him.

“Fuck, that’s it, Daddy,” you moan, lulling your head back a little as you feel his tongue on your clit. He hooks your leg over his shoulder, as you grip his hair tight. “You know exactly what I love!”

Andy only grunts in approval as you grind yourself against him, encouraging his actions, as he slides two fingers into your soaked cunt. The moan that leaves your mouth has him quickening his pace as he adds a third finger and starts sucking on your clit.

“Daddy! I’m so fucking close! I know you can be good for me and bring me off!” you cry out, arching your back as you try and keep your balance.

Andy’s gaze locks on yours as he sucks and lick on your clit like he’s afraid of you forgetting how good only he can make you feel. You can tell that he needs you to know that he’s the only one who can make you happy in any way.

“Shit!” you yell, cumming hard on his fingers as he tries keep you up right. He fucks you through your high before letting your leg down and breaking away from you; your juices glistening on his beard as he pants and looks up at you, waiting for instruction. “Get undressed and on the bed now,” you breathe out, taking your own top off before quickly unfastening your bra.

Andy wastes no time getting undressed before laying back on the bed, desperate to do any and every thing to keep you pleased.

“You really want to make me happy, Daddy?” you question as you crawl on to the bed.

“You know I do,” he husks as he stokes himself.

“When did I say you could touch yourself?” you question as you settle yourself on top of him.

“I’m sorry, Kitten,” he groans, stopping his movements almost instantly.

“I haven’t you under me like this in so long,” you moan, grinding your hips against his.

“Sweetheart...please,” he moans as his hands travel up your body.

“Please what?”

“Please do something,” he begs.

“You can’t cum until I get off, Daddy,” you warn before adjusting yourself so that his tip is at your entrance.

“Fuck!”

“Say you won’t or I won’t fuck you.”

“Shit, I won’t baby,” he husks, his hands gripping the sheets. “Bring yourself off on my cock as many times as you want.”

“You’re so good to me,” you moan as you slide yourself down on his cock. “Shit!”

“You always feel so fucking good, baby!”

“Yeah? You love this tight little cunt?” you whimper as you place your hands on his chest and start to ride him.

“I love everything about you, baby! You’re perfect!”

“Andy-”

“So fucking perfect for me,” he moans as you reach around and start to play with his balls. “Jesus, you know all the things I love, don’t you?”

“I fucking try, Daddy!”

You dip down and kiss him deeply, your hands getting lost in his hair as he wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you in place. When you both break apart, you push yourself up just a little, and you look him in the eyes. The way you love him never feels like enough when you look at him. His eyes are always filled with love and desperation. Desperation for you to stay, forgive him, and just try and figure it out.

Every time Andy’s deep inside of you, you feel his love for you. You know there’s no place he truly wants to be, and that you’re his whole world. You know that with you is exactly where he wants to be.

His breath on your neck as his grip on you tightens is all you can take before you cum hard on his cock, clenching him tight.

“Fuck!” he grunts, never breaking his gaze, but you can tell he’s doing his best to hold on.

“Use me, Daddy,” you breathe, still keeping your pace.

Andy has you on your back almost instantly and starts to love you relentlessly.

“Jesus!”

“You know how much I love it when you take over like that,” Andy grunts, his thrusts rhythmic as he collars your wrists above your head. “I fucking love it when you take what you want from me.”

“Feels too fucking good,”you mewl beneath him, your toes curling from the pleasurable build up in your core.

“I fucking love you, Sweetheart. Everything about you...shit! You’re mine and you’re always gonna be mine!”

“I love you, Andy!”

“Now,” he whispers hotly against your ear “I want you to fucking cum hard for me, baby. I want my cock soaked in it,” he demands, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic.

“Andy!”

“I told you to fucking cum for me, Sweetheart!”

“Fuck!” you cry, balling hands into fists as your orgasm washes over you and the world starts to fade around you.

Andy shouts your name as as his seed spills into you, letting go of your wrists so he can hold himself up and ride out both of your highs. After his final thrust, he collapses on top of you and you quickly wrap your arms around him, as you both just lay and listen to each other’s labored breathing.

“I love you, Andy,” you say after a moment, running your fingers through his soaked hair. “I love you so much.”

“I’m so fucking happy I found you,” he says softly as his finger gently traces up and down your arm. “I don’t wanna lose you, Y/N. I know I don’t always act like it, or make any fucking sense for that matter, but I really want to get over my fears and be with you. Really be with you.”

“We’ll talk about it, Baby. We’ll talk about all of it,” you sigh as he places a kiss on your collar bone.

“I want us to get this right, Sweetheart. I know that none of it has been ideal, but you’re...you’re everything to me.”

“You’re everything to me too, Andy.”

“And I really am sorry for being such an asshole. Especially with everything that’s been going on.”

You can’t stop the mischievous grin that comes to your face. “I almost forgive you.”

“Only almost?” he questions and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I think you’re gonna have a to do a little bit more to really show me how sorry you are, Daddy,” you giggle.

“Good thing this place is ours for two weeks,” he smirks as he pushes himself up and looks down at you. “I’m gonna spend every moment proving to you just how sorry I am,” he grunts as he starts to move within you again.

Andy spent the rest of the day loving you through and through, in every part of the house that he could, only to finish outside by the pool during the sunset. He made you lay down and rest up while he made dinner for the both of you, and let you choose the movie for dinner. He can’t help but laugh when you choose ‘The Little Mermaid’, but he’s more than happy to watch it with you.

At some point, you two fall asleep, cuddled up close and fingers entwined. Any thoughts of getting things done the next day, went out the window when you woke up to Andy’s head between your legs. How were you supposed to even think about getting anything done when he had you feeling mind numbing pleasure?

“I’m sorry,” he breathes after getting you both off for the third time “I swear I didn’t bring you to Hawaii just to stay inside and make love all day,” he laughs breathlessly. “I just-”

“I know baby,” you smile up at him, running one of your hands through his hair. “I know because I feel the same way too.”

You really do. Yes, you and Andy have had each other hundreds of times, but this is different. Everything feels as it should. It’s just you and him and the outside world is almost nonexistent. There’s no drama, no other women, no jealousy, no anger, no Mary, no Laurie, none of his dickhead friends...it’s just you and him, alone and baring your souls to one another. Everything feels like it should, because everything is as it should be.Yes, you’ve always loved sex with Andy, but this is so much more than sex. It feels like you’re finally home, after such a long and strenuous trip. You never want the feeling to end. You never want to be without him.

“I promise that we’ll actually go out and do things tomorrow,” he laughs softly as you make your way around the kitchen, getting dinner.

“What do ya wanna do?”

“I wanna do whatever makes you happy.”

“What makes you happy?”

“You,” he states simply, smiling at you.

You can feel the heat in your cheeks and quickly turn away to hide the smile that makes its way to your face. “Besides me, what would make you happy?”

“I don’t know. Sit on the beach and watch sunrise, visit local shops, take you dancing-”

“Since when do you like dancing?”

“Since I found out how much you love it.”

“Andy, if you’re trying to make me fall in love with you, it’s already happened.”

“Ha ha,” he smirks, making his way over to you. “I know you love me, but I really do love making you happy. The amount of times I’ve hurt you and made you cry...I hate myself for that, Y/N,” he sighs.

You put down the sauce spoon and turn the stove down to a simmer, before closing the little bit of space between you two and wrap your arms around him. “We’re gonna figure it out, Andy. It’s not like I’m the easiest to love-”

“You’ve never done to me what I’ve done to you, and you never would have.”

“I can still be a bitch, Andy. Don’t paint as me as some perfect human being, cause I’ll never live up to that.”

“You already do for me.”

“Andy-”

“Sweetheart, please understand that I went over the choice of making you my main girl a million times before I actually did it. I knew that what I felt towards you was more than lust and still decided to go ahead with my plan. I was dumb enough to think that I’d get over whatever I felt for you. Why wouldn’t I? The one woman in the club that everyone wanted but could never have. I’d fuck you and get over you, but that’s not what happened at all. I fell in love and tried to pretend I wasn’t. Then, to make matters worse, I tried to control you. Getting angry with you for rightfully being angry with me, because I kept telling myself that I was making the situation crystal clear. I told myself that you were acting just like Mary, even though I knew that was the farthest thing from the truth. What I feel towards you is something I never came close to feeling towards her. I haven’t felt this way about anyone and it terrified it me. It still does. So, I tried to distance myself from you, which proved to be useless. However, in the process of all this, I hurt you. I made you cry, I belittled you, I made you question my intentions, and I pushed you away. I hated myself for it then and I hate myself for it now, but I just couldn’t be vulnerable with you. Not like I am now. I’m still not ready to commit, Y/N. I know it infuriates you because it infuriates me. I want to make you mine. I wanna keep you with me at all times because you really are everything to me, but...being that vulnerable again...I’m just not there yet. So, to compensate for me being the absolute asshole that I am, I just want to make you happy. I want to make you as happy as you make me, because you’re fucking incredible and a better woman than I deserve. If something as simple as taking you to Hawaii, or making dinner, or just watching your favorite movies will make you smile, I’ll do it. I just want you to know that I’m not bullshitting you. This isn’t some sort of terrible joke or something to string you along until I get tired of you. I love you so fucking much and will do any and every thing I can do to make you happy. I promise,” he smiles at you, watery eyed as he wipes away your tears.

“Andy-”

“I know we have a lot to figure out, and most of that is on me, but I really want to figure this out. I want us to make it work. As long as you believe we have a chance, then we really do,” he smiles sincerely.

“Jesus Andy,” you sniffle out, as he chuckles and wraps you in a tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you, Sweetheart.”

You both eat dinner in a happy and comfortable silence, while watching a serial killer documentary (your choice, not his), as you rest your legs across his lap.

Everything feels right, because Andy feels like home.

When you wake up the next morning, you tell yourself and Andy that you’re determined to spend the day actually doing things. Of course, an hour after you two agreed to that, you made love to him in the shower. Nonetheless, you two eventually got dressed and headed out for the day in the door-less Jeep he rented for you both.

The whole day feels like a dream.

The first stop is lunch on the beach and it’s probably the best lunch you’ve ever had. Both you and Andy spend the entire time laughing and debating the most trivial things, that only you two would care about.

“I’m sorry, did you only watch Lord of The Rings? Have you not read the books?” you laugh before finishing off your papaya and mango smoothie.

“I read the books, smarty pants. I’m just saying that Bilbo could have avoided a lot of drama-”

“If there’s no drama, what’s the point?!” you interrupt as he bursts out laughing. “HAVE YOU NOT READ THE BOOKS?!”

“You know, this God complex of yours is really getting out of hand,” he smirks.

“My God complex? You’re one to talk.”

“I do not have a God complex!”

“Andy, it’s your entire personality.”

“Bullshit!”

“Yeah okay, who fought one of his dickhead lawyer buddies for just grabbing my wrist? Even though we’re not officially together?”

“I think it’s time for us to go,” he mutters, eyeing the waiter as you burst out laughing.

The next stop was the beach and you can tell that’s where he feels the most at home and at peace.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you ask, making your way back to him as you head back from the water.

“A lot,” he scoffs as you settle yourself next to him. “How’s the water?”

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing-”

“Don’t lie to me,” you warn, now placing yourself directly in front of him. “Talk to me.”

“You’re having a good day.”

“If you’re not having a good day, I’m not having a good day. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I really am happy. I’m just getting ahead of myself.”

“Ahead of yourself with what?”

“It really doesn’t matter, Babe.”

“Andy-”

“I know we have time and that I need to just be here, but I’m so afraid of fucking this up. More than I already have,” he sighs, looking down at the sand as he buries his feet in it.

“Please talk to me, Baby.”

“Why? It’s just a bunch of ‘what ifs’. You don’t need that-”

“Andy, whatever we are, whatever this may be, doesn’t change the fact that I’m very much in love with you. I want to be there for you if I can.”

“Everything is perfect right now. I have no fear of giving myself to you completely, or truly loving you. I’m just scared of...”

“When we get back home.”

“You feel it too?”

“I’ve been doing my best to not think about it,” you laugh humorlessly, taking his hands in yours. “What brought this on?”

“I’m having way too much fun,” he chuckles. “It’s so much easier when we’re away from everyone, isn’t it? Nothing seems to be as scary or as daunting. There’s much less pressure...it’s easier to be happier when you’re just away. I’m always happy with you, but right now? Where we are, how we’re living...I could do this forever with you. I want this with you forever. I don’t know if I’ll be able to be this secure at home.”

“Why?”

“There’s just so much left to deal with. You saw her that night she showed up at your apartment; she keeps fighting for more. At home, I’m reminded of every thing. Jacob’s trial, the whole fucking town turning on me, Laurie cheating on me, then deciding that she just doesn’t want to be with me...the monster I became to deal with all of it...nothing feels good about going home. If I never had to go back, it’d be the best fucking day of my life,” he mutters.

“Well, the divorce is final, you’re out of that house, and Jacob is off at college. The fact that he’s a Barber has me feeling more than confident that he’ll strike out on his own and do just fine, so why stay in Newton if there’s no reason to?”

“Work.”

“Andy, you’re an amazing lawyer. You can find work anywhere, you don’t need to keep working at a place you hate.”

“Then I can’t afford-”

“Don’t. You know how little all of this matters to me. I’ve only ever wanted you and that’s not changing any time soon. I love you for you, not the nice things you can get me. What good is any of this if I don’t have your trust? Your love? Your heart?”

“Fuck, why couldn’t I find you first?”

“I had to get through High School,” you smirk as he starts cracking up.

“You’re amazing, did you know that?”

“So are you, Baby,” you smile before leaning in close and kissing him deeply. “This is gonna be hard for the both of us,” you breathe as you two breakaway “baby steps and patience are what we’re gonna need to make this work.”

“I’m not good with either of those.”

“Neither am I, but I really want to try for the both of us. After all the shit that happened with my parents, I swore I’d never let myself fall for anyone who could complicate my life. Then I met you,” you scoff as Andy chuckles softly. “I am stubborn, I can be mean, I’m unforgiving, and I don’t like compromise. However, when it comes to you, I try my best to fight the urge to throw the towel in, in the name of things being easier, because this is worth fighting for. We’re worth fighting for.”

“You really think so?”

“I know it.”

“What’s it like to be so sure of everything all the time?”

“When I figure that out, I’ll let you know,” you smile with a small giggle.

Andy leans in and kisses you softly while cupping your face. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Andy.”

You both stay there for just a little bit longer before Andy tells you that you need to get going so you’ll be on time for his surprise. When you try to press him on the matter, he simply shakes his head and tells you, you need to work on your patience.

You can’t stop the gasp that leaves your body as Andy pulls up to a lavish restaurant.

“Andy-”

“I don’t wanna hear it. It’s not too much and you do deserve it. You deserve this and much, much more,” he smiles at you as he turns off the Jeep.

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to. It’ll make you happy and that makes me happy.”

“I’m happy just to have this time with you, Andy. I told you, you don’t need to buy me expensive gifts or take me to fancy places.”

“I know I don’t need to, but I like to do it. I like to do things for you that wouldn’t do for yourself and I love the little gasp that always leaves your mouth. I love the smile that comes to your face. I love you,” he finishes with a smile.

“You’re making my face hurt with all this smiling,” you laugh, turning away from him.

“Good.”

You both walk hand in hand as you make your way inside the building, you leaning in close as Andy quickly gets you two to the elevator. When the doors open and you get off, once again, you’re gasping at the site in front of you.

“There it is,” he chuckles.

“Andy-”

“You love it and I love you.”

“I don’t know how I’m ever gonna make this up to you.”

“The fact you up with me and love me is more than enough,” he smiles sincerely as you’re both led to your seats.

You can barely focus on the menu as you look around the rooftop restaurant, it’s beauty overwhelming to say the least as the sun sets. You’re so caught up in the view you don’t even notice the waiter when he comes over takes your drink order. Luckily, Andy knows you better than you know yourself half the time and orders your Mai Tai for you.

“Andy, this is incredible!” you gush as you take pictures and send them to Allison and Lindsey.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“I love it! You didn’t have to do all of this! I love it so much, I love you!” you beam, scooting closer to him so you can kiss him. “What can I do to make you happy?”

“Just stay with me,” he smiles softly.

“Nope, you gotta tell me something that you want. Something that you want that’ll make you really happy.”

“I have you, there’s nothing more that I want,” he responds coolly before taking a sip of his beer.

“There has to be something.”

“Well, Jacob’s birthday is in two weeks and I’m gonna take him and Sarah out to dinner. I didn’t want to ask you to come along because we’re not officially anything, but I really would like it if you could be there. You both get along so well and I know he’d be happy to see you, and I’d feel better not going alone. I completely understand if you don’t-”

You cut him off by kissing him and pulling him as close as you can. “You are the sweetest man on earth, did you know that?”

“What-”

“Something so simple means the world to you and you’re afraid to ask because you don’t wanna impose? Of course I’ll go with you, Andy. I’d be more than happy too.”

“You sure it’s okay? You going as just my best friend and not my girl friend?”

“Not sure if you’re aware of just how High School you sounded,” you chuckle “but I’m more than happy to go with you.”

“Thank you, I know it’s a lot to ask-”

“It’s not a lot at all. I love you.”

“I love you.”

You both place your orders for dinner before getting lost in conversation about books and music. The music is great, the food is great, and the company is perfect.

You can’t remember the last time you were so happy. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been this happy.

You’re on your third Mai Tai when you hear one of your favorite songs playing and you can’t resist the urge to dance.

“Dance with me!” you beg as you pull on Andy’s arm.

“You know you’re more of a dancer than I am,” he laughs, trying to keep his resolve and staying in place.

“What if one of the other guys here tries to dance with me? You don’t wanna see someone else grinding themselves against me, do you?”

“You’re pure evil, you know that?” he growls before finishing the rest of his drink. “Lets go,” he mutters as you giggle and lead him to the dance floor.

Andy doesn’t have to do much as you press your back against his chest and grind yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you get lost in the music.

“Careful Sweetheart,” he warns with a gentle husk “you know how much I love it when you dance like this on me in public.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it,” you moan, loving the feel of his hands gripping your waist tighter.

“Nothing but trouble.”

“And you love it,” you smirk as you twist your neck slightly and kiss his cheek.

As Andy’s hands travel up your body, you do your best to ignore the lyrics (they’re hitting way too close to home) and just focus on all the pleasure you’re feeling. However, when the chorus hits, you find yourself focusing on it more than you’d like.

‘You know I want you baby, you know I do

I’ll give you my heart and the rest is up to you

You ain’t no good for me, I know it’s true

But you don’t have to be’

As the words roll around in your head, you turn yourself in Andy’s arms and kiss him deeply.

You don’t want to think about anything, you just want Andy.

‘I do it for the thrill, for the rush

I do it for the pain, for your touch

Will I OD when it’s too much?

If I survive, maybe you’re the one.’

Andy’s hold on you is tight as he deepens the kiss and you feel your excitement build. You feel the stares of a few people, but you couldn’t care less. All that matters is Andy and how he’s making you feel.

“Need you now, Kitten,” he husks as you two break apart.

“Then have me,” you mumble as you look up into his loving gaze.

In no time at all, Andy’s dragged you to the men’s bathroom has you pinned against the door of a bathroom stall.

“Fuck!” you cry out, gripping your legs around him tighter as he thrusts himself into you.

“Tried to be romantic and wait until we got back, but you just had to keep pushing.”

“Andy!”

“That perfect little ass grinding against my cock, shit! How the fuck am I supposed to control myself?”

“Never want you to, baby. You can have me whenever you want me. I’m all yours,” you moan, lulling your head back as places wet and desperate kisses all over your neck.

“Jesus, Y/N! I can never get enough of you!”

“Wanna hear you fucking say it, Andy! Need to hear you say it,” you whine pathetically as your hands grip the door.

“I fucking love you, baby,” he moans as you clench around him.

“Shit!”

“Such a good girl,” he grins as you arch your back against the door. “You take this cock so well!”

“Andy please! I’m so...I’m so fucking close!”

“You know what I want from you, Sweetheart,” he taunts as he grips your hips tight, his thrusts coming faster, harder, and more erratic.

“Yes, yes, YES!” you cry out, cumming hard for him, one of your hands gripping his shoulder as you dig your nails into it.

“Fuck Sweetheart!” he exclaims, shooting his load into you.

You both stay that was for a moment trying to come down from your highs.

“I think it’s time we head back,” Andy laughs softly as he lets you down slowly.

“Mhm, I think so too.”

“I hope you’re not tired, because I’m about to keep you up all night.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you grin mischievously.

You both quickly make your way back out and Andy’s quick to settle the bill. The entire ride down the elevator, you two can’t keep your hands off of each other.

That’s when an idea pops into your head.

“How good of a driver do you think you are?” you question as you take your panties off.

“Pretty fuckin’ good,” he smirks as he starts the engine.

“Wanna show me just how good you are?”

“Sweetheart-”

“I don’t wanna wait, Daddy. Want you to love me right here and right now,” you moan as you straddle him.

“Nothing but trouble,” he husks as you undo the button on his shorts and work them off of him. “And if someone sees?”

“They’re welcome,” you shrug as you start to stroke him.

“Fucking firecracker,” he groans as you bite and suck on his neck.

“Just keep your eyes on the road and enjoy the ride, Daddy,” you moan as you sink yourself down onto him.

“Fuck Y/N!” he moans as he pulls off.

You do your best to keep your head to the side of him as he drives, but Andy makes you look at him every time you two come to a stop light. You’ve never seen him so desperate and it makes you feral.

“So fucking close!” you whine into his ear, your nails digging into his shoulder.

“You better not fucking cum until we get home!” he demands, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Andy!”

“You wanted to be a little slut and now you have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Cum before we get home and you’re gonna be sorry!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cry, trying to fight off your release. “I don’t think I can, baby!”

“We’re almost there, Sweetheart”

“You feel too fucking good, Andy! You always feel too...fuck!” you cry out, cumming hard on his cock.

“Oh Sweetheart, you don’t know just how much punishment you’re in for tonight,” he chuckles darkly as he pulls up to the house.

“I almost made it!”

“Almost doesn’t count.”

“Andy-”

“I don’t wanna hear it. Get that sexy little ass inside that house and wait for instructions.”

“Can I at least suck you clean?”

“No, because bad girls don’t get rewarded.”

“Please Daddy?”

“In the house, now,” he demands with a strained voice and you can tell that he’s doing all he can to keep together.

Andy shows no mercy when he finally gets in the house and gets his hands on you. He ties to you to the bed and settles a vibrator between your legs, telling you that you need to learn how to control yourself.

After the cumming for the 4th time, you’re so desperate and pathetic for him.

“Andy please!” you cry out as you try to recover from your high.

“The next time I tell you to fucking wait, will you?”

“Andy, I swear to God that I’ll do anything that you say. I will be such a good girl, I fucking promise.”

“You’re a dirty little liar” he chuckles as he unties you “but I need to be deep inside you,’ he mumbles as he gets on the bed. “I need to feel how much you love me.”

“I’m all yours,” you smile up at him as your hand traces over his broad chest. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Angel,” he groans as he thrusts himself inside of you.

Andy loves you until the sunrise, picking every position he knows you love and that will send you into a mind shattering orgasm time after time. You don’t even remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, a small smile comes to your face, remembering all the love you and Andy made the night before, the promises made, and the love that was felt.

You slowly and quietly sneak out of bed, not wanting to disturb Andy, putting on his boxers and AC/DC shirt, before sneaking into the backyard and taking a seat by the pool. As you soak your feet, you think back to the night that Laurie showed up to your apartment, unannounced and unwelcome.

“You have no right to be here!” Andy shouted as he steps in front of you. “We’re divorced and there’s no-”

“You’re really housing a whore,” Laurie laughed incredulously as she looked you over. “You really left me for her?”

“She’s more of a woman than you’ll ever be!”

“Yet you still defend me when Jacob thinks I don’t care?”

“He’s our son, Laurie. Whatever I feel towards you, shouldn’t reflect the way he treats you. Don’t take it as a fucking term of endearment.”

“This isn’t gonna last, Andy. She’s young and you’re just looking for a good time-”

“It’s time for you to go, you’ve worn out your welcome,” you bit as you stepped in front of Andy, not liking how angry and frustrated he was getting.

“You think you know him? Understand him? You’ve heard about a few arguments and-”

“I know enough to know that he deserves better than you. Maybe I am just a notch in his belt on his way to something better, but that’s still better than him attaching himself to someone who clearly has her own interest at heart.”

“He’s never gonna make it work with you.”

“Well, here’s to hoping you’re wrong,” you snipped. “You need to go. Now,” you warned, not wanting to show any weakness as she holds your glare.

She looked as if she’s about to say something, before huffing and leaving.

“Are you okay?” you asked almost instantly when the door closed.

“Y/N-”

“Are you okay?” you repeated, making your way over to him.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did. She was making you uncomfortable and unhappy. I wasn’t gonna let her talk to you.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Are you okay, Andy?”

“I have you. I’m perfect,” he smiles softly.

You replay that moment over and over in your head, trying to tell yourself that everything between you and Andy is genuine. It would be so much easier to write this all off as lust if you didn’t know Andy the way you do. If you didn’t know his love language. Sure, you and him have mind blowing sex (that’s how all of this got started), but they’re moments when you can see just how much he genuinely cares for you. The late night drives with the windows down and music blasting, the both of you singing at the top of your lungs. Game night, movie night, when he holds you when you randomly start crying over your Mother and how much you miss her, when he joins you in your dance parties that you have in your room so you don’t disturb him, the fact that he still thinks you’re gorgeous when you’re in sweats and shoveling Ben and Jerry’s down your throat, the way he indulges in sappy black and white romance movies...

The way he loves you.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re terrified of going back home too. There’s a big part of you that believes that Andy won’t be able to be the same guy he is now when you both return, and that has your heart breaking. Because what happens if he isn’t? Do you stay and make excuses? Do you walk away and move on? Do you beg him to be better because you know he can be? Do you just hate him?

As all of these questions and more roll around in your head, you don’t even notice the tears that start to fall.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Sweetheart?” Andy asks softly, causing you to jump, as he takes a seat next to you.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” you sniffle softly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“I always wake up when you get out of bed. When you didn’t come back after 5 minutes, I knew you were up for the day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s so fucking stupid. I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Baby, talk to me.”

“I just love you so much, Andy. God, I hate how much I love you and how stupid it makes me, but I don’t want it to change. I don’t want us to change. Jesus, of all the times to have a breakdown,” you laugh humorlessly.

“What happened, Sweetheart?”

“I just keep thinking about what will happen when we go back home and I really don’t fucking want to.”

“Y/N-”

“I want to be with you, Andy. I’ve never wanted anything so bad, but I’m terrified. I tried to tell myself that it’s just the sex and I can walk away any time I want, but that’s been bullshit from the start. Then, I told myself I stayed because I like being taken care of. It’s been so long and I’ve worked hard, but when I really think about it, we take care of each other. Yeah, you pay my rent, but I hold you when you cry, I cook for you, I sit and listen when you vent, I hold you when you’re overwhelmed....I do all of that and more, and it’s not because you pay for a place for me to live. I’d do all of the things I do for you now whether or not you paid for a single fucking thing. Why? Because I love you. Whether its the smart choice or not, I fucking love you with every thing I have in me. I’ve never loved anyone like this and I’m scared, because what happens if we can’t make this work? What happens if I’m not enough? What happens if you decide you truly don’t want a relationship?”

“Sweetheart-”

“This is all so fucking stupid. I’m so sorry,” you sob, wiping your eyes.

“Stop that, this isn’t stupid at all and I want you to talk to me. I want to know how you feel.”

“I’m being dramatic.”

“No you aren’t. I told you yesterday that I’m afraid that I’m gonna fuck this up. When I could lie to myself and tell myself this was just sex, it was fine. We’re so much farther than that now and I truly want to give you the world. I want to be the man you deserve. The man you need. I’m never going to be worthy of your love, but I’m trying and I promise to always try. Don’t feel stupid for having a rational fear. A fear you have because of me.”

“Andy-”

“You don’t need to say it isn’t my fault, because we both know it is,” he sighs, pulling you onto his lap. “Listen, like you said, we’re gonna figure this out, but we have to take it step by step. Don’t bottle up your feelings and hide them, cause that’s not gonna get us far. I want to know how you’re feeling, where you’re at with all of this, and what you’re afraid of. I tell you everything and you tell me everything, deal?”

All you do is nod softly.

“Oh my sweet girl,” Andy mutters into your hair before kissing it. “My sweet sweet girl, how I love you so.”

For the rest of the trip, you both try to focus on the enjoying the time you have together. That doesn’t mean neither one of you don’t have your fair share of breakdowns, but you’re both quicker to come back from them. The rest of the trip is filled with adventures, late night movies, love making, trying to new foods and drinks, learning as much about the island as you can, and site seeing. You’re both happy, carefree, content, and for a moment you really think you two have a shot in hell.

“I don’t wanna go back tomorrow,” you sigh, laying your head on Andy’s bare chest, making little circles on it with your finger.

“Me neither, Sweetheart. This has been heaven. Lets just extend the trip,” he chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“If only. I could stay here with you forever. Just like this,” you smile up at him, taking in his gorgeous facial features. You chuckle at the little bits of gray in his beard and he cocks an eyebrow. “You’re 42nd birthday is next month.”

“You watch your filthy little mouth,” he groans as burst out laughing. “How am I 42 already?”

“It’s better than the alternative.”

“I suppose your right,” he mutters, laying back on the grass. “You don’t make me feel 42.”

“That’s because you’re a big dumb teenager,” he tease as he chuckles. “What do you wanna do?”

“Well, I know the guys wanna go out, but I’d really rather not bring you around them.”

“What? Ashamed of me?”

“Guess how funny that isn’t?”

“I’m just saying,” you shrug, suddenly feeling very insecure and small. “It’s not like they don’t know how we met, and you all run with an entirely different crowd-”

“Hey, stop it right now,” he chides softly, propping himself up on his shoulders as you sit up. “How could you even think that? Yeah, we met at a Gentlemen’s Club, but who the fuck cares? If you think I should be ashamed of you because you work there, then you should be ashamed of me for being the guy who went there all the time. Don’t ever belittle yourself, especially over myself asshole friends,” he states as he takes your face in his hands. “I’m so fucking happy you love me and I could never be ashamed of you. If anything, I don’t want you around my friends because I’m ashamed of them. The way they’ve spoken to you...I wanna keep you as far from them as possible. I kinda just want us to do something. I’d love to include Jacob, but he’s away at school, so something simple and fun would be perfect. Just you and me,” he smiles as he strokes your cheek softly.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with,” you smirk as you settle yourself in his lap. “I love you.”

“I love you...hey, would you wanna live here?” he questions as he tenses a little.

“Hmm?”

“Would you wanna live here, with me?”

“What are you getting at, Andy?”

“If we’re able to make this work, if I can get my shit together, would you wanna live here? In this house with me?”

You can’t stop yourself from lunging forward and kissing him deeply as he chuckles softy, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you as close as possible. “You really want that with me?” you ask breathlessly.

“In about 2 years time, I’ll have more than enough to take care of you-”

“Andy, you don’t have to-”

“I want to, Sweetheart. I’ll always want to take care of you. You can work if you really want to, but know that you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You’ll never need or want for anything.”

“How’d I get so lucky?”

“Guess you’re God’s favorite,” he smirks before pulling you close for another kiss.

You both spend the rest of the day rolling around in the grass, making plans, and making love before deciding that you both need to pack before going to bed. That night Andy holds you close, as if he’s afraid you won’t be there in the morning, and peppers soft kisses all over your neck and shoulder, silently telling you ‘I love you so much’ before you both drift off to sleep.

During the ride back the next day, you know he can sense the dread hanging in the air, but all he does is rub the back of your hand reassuringly as he drives you both to the airport. They’re no spontaneous sexcapades on during the flight home, just exchanged glances and small smiles. You want to believe you two can make it work. You feel like you two have already been through so much that there isn’t anything you two can’t handle together.

But you also know Andy and his anxiety.

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” Andy asks once he pulls up to your apartment.

“Do you want to?”

“You know I do...”

“But?”

“I just need a few days to reset, that’s all,” he promises softly.

You force down the lump in your throat before smiling weakly and nodding. “I guess I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Hey, I meant everything I said in Hawaii. I’m going to do my best to get my shit together. It’s just that we’re back home now and I need to wrap my head around a few things. I’m not changing my mind or taking back anything that I said. Just give me a few days, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Sweetheart, I love you,” he sighs sincerely. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Andy. More than you know,” you smile softly before taking his face in your hands and kissing him deeply. “I’ll see you in a few days,” you all but mumble before getting out of the car and getting your bags out of his backseat.

You hear his heavy sigh and you know he feels bad, but you have to trust that he knows what he’s doing, even if you’re completely in the dark about it. The moment you get into your bedroom, you drop your bags and get into before bursting out into tears. You don’t even know why you’re reacting this way. He’s not saying he wants to go back to the way things were, but you thought you two had made enough improvement for him at least want to spend more time with you.

‘He said he just needs a few days, Y/N. You’ve gotta stop over thinking things or you’ll drive the both of you crazy,’ you mentally tell yourself as you try to calm down.

The first two days are hell and you can’t remember the last time you felt so alone. Maybe when you’re Mother died, but that was a completely different type of pain. It doesn’t help that you can’t put off your lunch date with your Father any longer.

“Hey Baby Doll,” he smiles up at you as you take a seat at the table of the restaurant he’s chosen.

“Father.”

“You can’t even pretend to be a little excited to see me?”

“Well, since all of the shit you pulled with Mom, I promised myself that I would never lie. So no,” you smile as the waiter comes and asks for your drink order. “A Jack and Coke, please,” you smile with a slight nod before he walks away.

“It’s 1pm, Baby Doll.”

“I’m gonna need it to get through this.”

“You hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate you, I just want nothing to do with you. God, why do you even want to do this? You didn’t give two shits about me or Mom until she got sick, and now-”

“That’s not true. I love you so much-”

“Not enough for you stick around and be a better husband or Father. Not enough to encourage Vivian to make things right with Mom sooner.”

“Things were complicated, Y/N,” he sighs as you roll your eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand because I hurt you. I hurt you and your Mother-”

“There’s nothing to understand! You’re a fucking liar and a cheater at the end of the day. That’s really all there is. I’m the one who had to hear her cry for you over and over again, praying to God for you to come back-”

“I thought that’s what I wanted, Honey. I couldn’t see myself being a good husband or Father so i just ended up leaving. Almost as soon as I left, I regretted it, but how could I come back? There was nothing I could do to make it right by any of you, so I forced myself to stay away. Then when Vivian still made the effort to have me in her life, I was too much of a coward to tell her not to be angry with your Mother. Having one of you was better than having none of you. Then, when she got sick, I...I wanted to be there for her. For you.”

“We didn’t need you, it’s not like you paid for anything or helped take care of her at all.”

“Yeah, you need no help from me at all,” he scoffs as your drinks arrive. “Your sister told me all about your job.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter before taking a sip of your drink and looking up at the waiter. “Please keep them coming,” you smile and he just offers a sympathetic nod before walking away.”Tread lightly.”

“You may hate me, but I still have a right to disapprove,”

“I don’t give a fuck about your approval, in case that hasn’t seemed to come across your mind yet.”

“You’re still my child-”

“No, I’m a grown ass woman. You lost the right to tell me how to live my life when you walked out the fucking door.”

“No parent wants their child sleeping with other people for money.”

“1. No parent just fucking walks out on their kid unless they’re a complete and total dickhead. 2. I’m not sleeping with them, I guess Tweedle-Dee decided to leave that part out.”

“She said there’s one guy-”

“One guy and it’s not like that. It’s...complicated,” you sigh before finishing off your drink. “It’s complicated and I don’t wanna talk about it. At least not with you.”

“Does he love you? Do you trust him?”

“What part of ‘I don’t wanna talk about it with you’ did you not get?”

“You need to make sure that he truly wants and loves you. You met him at this place you work at? I’m assuming he’s older than you, am I right?” Your silence has him scoffing as the waiter brings you another drink. “I thought so.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“I know enough.”

“You don’t know that the last day Mom was alive, he spent the whole day with us because it made her happy. You don’t know that he was the one who woke me up the next day to tell me the news and when I couldn’t get myself together, he was the one to call everyone and set everything up. You don’t know that hes been there for me every day since. You don’t know shit so stop acting like you do.”

“If he’s so damn great, why wasn’t he at the funeral?”

“He was at the funeral. Unlike your little wife, he didn’t wanna make a spectacle of himself.”

“He could’ve at least been by your side at the repast.”

“Just because you didn’t see him, doesn’t mean he wasn’t there.”

“Why the secrecy?”

“Cause it’s no one’s fucking business!” you snap. You’re not a fan of the disproving scowl your Father gives you before shaking his head. “What?”

“He’s someone important, isn’t he? Someone who can’t be seen with a person that does what you do.”

“Why would you-”

“Vivian told me where you work and I know the crowd that frequents there. A bunch of shady assholes, who have a lot of power and a lot of money.”

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

“Baby Doll-”

“We’re done talking about this,” you state firmly.

Your Father lets out a mournful sigh before downing all of his drink. “I’m the last person to tell you how to live your life or what decisions to make, but I really do hope that I’m wrong about this man. I know you don’t believe me when I say it, but I really do want you to be happy. I want you to find a man that’s good for you and good to you. No matter what, I will always love you and I’ll always try to be there for you. Whether you want me to be or not,” he finishes sincerely with a sad and soft smile.

“Well, as wonderful as that is to hear, I’m fine and you and your little minion need to stay out of business that doesn’t concern either one of you.”

“Are we ever gonna get to a point where you and I have some sort of a relationship?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh mumble before picking up your drink and taking a sip. “I just don’t know.”

The rest of the lunch is spent in silence and against your better judgment (and the fact that you’re insanely stubborn), you take yourself home. The minute you’re back inside your still empty apartment, you kick off your jeans and fish your phone out of your back pocket.

Still no text or call from Andy.

However, there are two texts from Vivian.

Devil Child: Dad told me you refused to let him drive you home. Please let me know when you’re home safe.

Devil Child: I know you hate me, but please answer me.

You shake your head and chuckle humorlessly before responding.

Y/N: Hey, you know what isn’t a good idea? Telling the one person I can’t stand more than you about my job. Leave me alone and stay out of it.

Devil Child: He’s our Father, Y/N. He has a right to know.

Y/N: Do you think before you speak? He doesn’t have a right to shit. NEITHER OF YOU have a right to anything.

Devil Child: We’re all each other have at this point, Y/N. You can’t keep hating us.

Y/N: Just because I want nothing to with you, doesn’t mean I hate you. I just have no need or desire to bullshit around with you.

Devil Child: Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.

Y/N: Yeah and I don’t care.

You toss your phone on your nightstand before pulling off your shirt and pulling on one of Andy’s ‘Boston University’ sweatshirts and getting under the covers.

You hate this. You hate being so dependent on someone who’s still having such a hard time trusting you. This isn’t you. You’ve never let anyone have control over your feelings like this, and you promised yourself that you never would, but here you are. In bed, crying over a brokenhearted grown man and waiting for him to make the next move for the both of you.

It’s not like you ever put up much of a fight about it.

“Jesus Andy, don’t start this shit again,” you muttered as you got dressed. “Your jealousy is out of control and for fucking what?”

“Sweetheart-”

“Seriously Andy, what’s the fucking reason for it? No other man can look at me, but you can still sleep with whatever woman you here? What fucking sense does that make? How is that fair?”

“Is there someone else here you wanna sleep with?”

“How the fuck is that what you just took away from what I just said?! You know what? Fuck you, I’m not doing this with you tonight. Go get buried in someone else’s cunt and call me when your temper tantrum is over,” you bit, grabbing your bag and leaving the room.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” he questioned angrily, walking after you.

“Why do you need to know?”

“Don’t play this game with me tonight,” he warned hotly, following you into the elevator.

“Play what game? The game you play with me literally every fucking day? ‘Will he or won’t he come home to me? Will or won’t he fuck someone else?’ Those games?” you questioned with a humorless laugh. “It fucking hurts to think that you possibly couldn’t be the only one, right?”

“Y/N-”

“Ya know what? Maybe I’ll go to a club and bring a guy home with me. Better yet, maybe I’ll just find someone here to fuck,” you shrugged as you both got off of the elevator. “It’s not like we both don’t know how much all the guys here wanna fuck me. Maybe they can take me off your hands for a while,” you scoffed, finally turning to face him. His fists were balled and you could tell that he was using all of his energy to not lose it on you. “Now you have a slight idea of how I feel, Andy. Fucking hurts doesn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes as his just softened a bit.

“I’m going home, Andy. I’m over this shit and I’m over you,” you huffed before storming out.

You made it to the front of your car, before you felt Andy hand on your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

“What fuck-” was all you were able to get out before his lips crashed against yours. His arms snaked around your waist and instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck.

God, you two were so fucking toxic.

“Andy,” you breathed out as you two broke apart.

“Over me? Oh Sweetheart, you’ll never be over me, just like I’ll never be over you,” he husked as one of his hands traveled up your skirt.

“Fuck!”

“You know what it is? You know what I really think is pissing you off?” he continued to taunt as he ripped your panties off. “I think it’s because you want me to show everyone just how addicted we are to one another.”

“Don’t,” you warned pathetically. “Fuck!” you moaned as he started to finger you.

“You sure you don’t wanna give em a show? The way this tight little cunt is responding to me, it seems like you want everyone to see just how addicted I am to you. How much I’ll never be able to quit you,” whispered hotly against your ear before licking the shell of it.

Your hands were moving faster than your brain. The emotional and vulnerable parts of you were completely drowning out the logical and rational parts of you. You were undoing his pants as fast as you could and whined in protest when he removed his fingers, but he was quick to grip your ass and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he hoisted you up.

You lulled your head back and moaned in pleasure as you felt him thrust himself inside of you.

‘Guess the secret’s out now,’ you thought to yourself as your back hit the hood of your car and Andy starts thrusting into you relentlessly.

“You know why I get jealous, Sweetheart,” he grunted, not slowing up at all, finally meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I fucking hate you, Andy,” you moaned, tears brimming in your eyes from the pleasure you were feeling, and the pain in your heart.

“I know you do, Sweetheart. And you have every right to.”

It’s not like you could be mad at him for the position you found yourself in. You were all too willing to let him fuck you in front of everyone, because you were just as sick and stupid as he was. You wanted the girls to see how much he desired and worshiped you, just like he wanted to guys to see how desperate and in love you were with him. You both wanted everyone to see just how much you two belonged to one another.

Andy didn’t give a single fuck about his career and you didn’t give a shit about what your friends and coworkers would think of you. All that mattered was each other and proving a point. Even without saying the dreaded phrase, you two made it known just how truly, stupidly, deeply, and madly in love you were with one another.

“Andy...Andy!” you mewled, clawing at his back, as he started biting and sucking on your neck. You felt your toes curl inside your shoes and you knew you weren’t gonna last long.

“Yeah Sweetheart? That close for me already?” he smirked looking down at you at you.

“Too fucking good! I can’t...I can’t...shit!”

“Give it to me, Sweetheart. You know what Daddy wants,” he husked, as his grip on your waist got tighter in the most painfully pleasurable way.

“Fuck!” you cried out, cumming hard for him, your brain feeling foggy from your euphoric high.

“Such a good girl for me,” he grunted before pulling out and getting on his knees.

“What-Andy!” you whimpered as you felt his tongue on your clit. “Oh my God!”

You tried to close your legs, but he wasn’t having it. He used one hand to push one of your legs to the side, while using three of his fingers on his other hand to fuck you. The only thing Andy let you do was hold on for the ride. You gripped his hair tight as you were grinding yourself against him, your brain completely too fucked out to allow anything other than moans and cries to leave your lips. All Andy did was grunt in approval as he continued his assault between your legs, and you knew he wasn’t gonna stop until you were a complete puddle on the hood of your car.

“Gonna...gonna cum! Fuck!” you cried out, your orgasm washing over you hard, as your body went limp.

Andy stayed on his knees, cleaning up the mess you made for him, as you tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Why were you two so toxic? Why couldn’t either of you just make a decision and fucking stick with it? Why the fuck did you have to fall in love with him? Why couldn’t you stop?

“You okay, baby?” Andy asked softly, slowly pulling you out of your thoughts, as he peppered kisses up and down your neck.

“People...people saw,” was all you could think to say, still too fucked out to really put a real thought together.

“That was the point, Sweetheart. Don’t want there to be anymore fucking confusion for anyone anymore.”

“You didn’t cum.”

“Oh, I’m gonna when we get back home,” he smirked, helping you sit up right.

You said nothing as you tried to regain your balance, picking up your bag and fishing out your car keys. “You’re driving home,” was all you said before making your way to the passenger side.

That weekend, you and Andy stayed hold up in your apartment, making love and arguing. Never reaching a resolution but still never quitting each other.

From that day on, guys stopped approaching you and women stopped approaching you. Hell, half of them asked you if it was okay for them to fuck him.

At the time, it felt like a win, like you two were headed in the right now, but as you sit in your bed, you keep being at war with yourself. Why does he need so much time? Why hadn’t you two just just stayed in Hawaii. You call out of work for the next two days and just settle in, allowing yourself until you fall asleep.

By the middle of the next day, you’ve hit the drinking part of your depression.

You would have thought hearing the door open and close would have made you happy, but you’re just numb.

“Sweetheart?” Andy calls from the kitchen, throwing his keys down on the counter top.

“What?” you counter, taking a sip of your whiskey, still flipping through channels for something to barely pay attention to.

You hear him sigh before he slowly makes his way to the bedroom door. “Sam told me you called out for the next few days. What’s going on?”

“Didn’t wanna risk seeing you go off with one of the other girls.”

“Sweetheart, I told you I’m done with that.”

“Yeah well, you’ve radio silent since we got back, so maybe something changed. Maybe you found someone younger-”

“Y/N, that’s not fair and it’s a low blow,” he quickly interrupts, and you can tell you’ve really hurt him.

You sigh before throwing down the remote and finally turning your attention to him. “I’m sorry.”

“What happened? I knew you’d be upset, but I didn’t think you’d get this mad at me.”

“I had lunch with my Father and fucking Vivian told him about what I do for a living, and you came up. Not by name, but he’s aware of how we met.”

“You listened to your Father of all-”

“You haven’t said a thing to me since you dropped me off here,” you quickly defend, getting irritated with his annoyance.

“I told you, I just needed some time to sort shit out.”

“When don’t you?”

“Y/N-”

“Are you staying over tonight?” you interrupt, not wanting to ruin the buzz you have.

“Do you want me to?”

“When don’t I want you to?”

“Come here, Angel,” he smiles softly.

You’re slow to get up and make your way over to him, but the minute his arms wrap around your waist, you wrap your legs around his and your arms around his neck.

You’re finally home.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly before pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Did you really?”

“There wasn’t a second that I wasn’t thinking about you.”

“I love you, Andy.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

“Are you finally ready to really be together?”

“I’m getting there, I swear. I just needed time to re-think everything and get myself away from...those thoughts. Hawaii was perfect, you’re perfect, and I love you more than I can express.”

“Andy-”

“I know, I’ve asked for so much more than I deserve. I keep asking for more than I deserve. Please, just a little bit more patience,” he begs softly.

“I’m hungry,” you respond softly, not wanting to make yourself any more upset.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Have you showered today?”

“No.”

“Lets shower first then I’ll order something.”

“I can pay for my own food.”

“Don’t start. I want to do this.”

“You wanna be everything but commit to me.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was mean.”

“I deserved it.”

“You said we’re gonna shower-”

“Not in the way you think, Angel,” he chuckles, his hold on you tightening a little as he starts to make his way towards the bathroom.

“Why not?” you groan, as chuckles a little harder.

“1. You’re drunk-”

“I’m buzzed, not drunk.”

“Fine, you’re buzzed. 2. We can’t keep fucking to keep from arguing, it’s not healthy.”

“Nothing about us is healthy,” you shrug as he gently sets you down.

“I want that to change, Y/N,” he says with all sincerity as he turns the water on. “If we’re gonna do this, really do this, then things can’t keep being as turbulent as they are. It’s not lost on me that it’s more my fault than yours, but still. I want this to be a real relationship, Angel. I want to be the man you deserve.”

You can’t stop the stupid smile that spreads across your face.

“What?” he laughs.

“You love me!” you squeal, running in place a little.

“It’s about time it clicked for you,” he laughs as he checks the water. “I think it’s ready.”

You’re both out of your clothes almost instantly and quickly make your way into the shower. A small smile comes to your faces as the water hits your skin; Andy’s always been the best at paying attention to what you love.

Andy lathers up your soap on your loofah before slowly spreading it around your shoulders, while kissing from your forehead to your cheek.

“I love you,” he whispers softly as he slowly gets to his knees, lathering up the rest of you.

“Andy, you don’t have to.”

“Just let me,” he begs softly.

It’s funny to you, how a simple gesture can make your heart light up for him. He takes his time lathering you up all over before placing you directly under the shower head. You take your time, letting the water wash away all of the soap, pain, and heartache you’ve been feeling over the last few days.

Andy cups your face in his hands as he steps under the shower with you, kissing you deeply as you wrap your arms around.

Finally, everything feels as it should.

You finally feel like you two are truly on the track you’re meant to be on. You both spend that night cuddled up on the couch, watching an ‘The Office’ marathon until you both fall asleep.

When you awake the next morning, it’s to the feeling of him placing small kisses up and down your cheek, telling you that he’ll see you after work.

“Stay home,” you whine, turning over and pulling his arm close to you.

“I wish I could,” he chuckles softly. “I promise I’ll be back tonight though. I love you.”

“I love you.”

For the first two weeks, that’s how everything went. There was barely ever a time when he wasn’t with you. The only time he stays at his own place is when he stays late for work and even then, he talks himself into coming over because he doesn’t wanna be without you.

The love making is 10x’s more amazing, there’s more trust, understanding, love, and openness. Andy’s more vocal about his fears which makes it easier for you to be more vocal about your frustrations. He more open with you which makes it easier for you to figure out what he actually needs instead of just what he wants. Yeah, you two have your little arguments from time to time, but (in a way) it makes it that much easier to pursue the relationship you two want, and it feels like a dream.

Yes, everything is picture perfect until Jacob’s birthday dinner.

“You both came,” Jacob beams, wrapping his arms around Andy first before hugging you just as tight.

“It’s nice to see you both again,” Sarah smiles shyly, waving a little.

“It’s good to see you again too,” you smile, wrapping her in a hug just as tight as you gave Jacob moments ago. “We should head inside,” you smile at Jacob who frowns in response. “Ah shit, what’s wrong?”

“So...” Jacob starts softly “Mom’s inside.”

“Jacob!” Andy groans as you grab his hand to try and soothe the irritation you both feel. “You should’ve-”

“I know, but I wanted to see you. I wanted to see all of you,” he smiles towards you. “She said she’ll be on her best behavior.”

“How many glasses of wine ago was that?” Andy questions, looking into the restaurant; spotting his ex-wife filling her glass with what’s left of the wine bottle.

“Maybe 4?” Jacob shrugs, following his Father’s gaze. “Listen, I know that her resentment on all of us is my-”

“Don’t you dare,” Andy quickly interrupts. “Her resentment is on her. You were rightfully proven innocent, and my secrets were mine to keep. She made her choices and now she has to deal with them. Don’t blame yourself for one second, Bud,” Andy smiles reassuringly at Jacob, taking his side profile in his hand. “It’s your birthday and we’re gonna have a great time no matter what.”

“Dad, if you want to-”

“I wanna stick to the plan, Jacob,” Andy smiles reassuringly at his son.

So, you all put on your brave faces and made your way inside, as you do your best to drown out your insecurities as Laurie and Andy embrace in a brief hug. However, the look on his face tells you that it means more to him than he wants to admit.

He misses her and that breaks your heart.

You do your best to ignore the pain you feel by downing drinks and making small talks with Sarah. You’re perfectly fine until Laurie decides to question your relationship with Andy.

“I really didn’t think he’d bring you tonight,” Laurie scoffs towards you before finishing off her 6th glass of wine. “How’d you talk him into it with your job?”

“I know how much she and Jacob get along, so I wanted her here. No more and no less,” Andy snaps, keeping his eyes on the lit candle in front of him.

“What’s your job?” Jacob mindlessly asks, digging into his plate of chicken penne vodka.

“I waitress,” you quickly clarify, grabbing your own glass of whiskey and almost downing it.

“I don’t see what’s so wrong with waitressing, Mom. Sarah waitresses,” Jacob defends as his gaze lands back on his Mother.

“She just doesn’t seem like the type of woman he’d fall for,” Laurie smiles innocently, before shoveling angel hair pasta into her mouth. “Ignore me.”

“I’m really happy you came, Y/N. My dad is always in a better mood when you’re around,” Jacob smiles sweetly towards you.

You know he means well but you can tell that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

“How long have you two been together?” Laurie presses as you see Andy’s grip tighten on his fork from the corner of your eye.

“We’re just hanging out.”

“You mean, having fun?”

“He means that we’re falling in love and having fun while figuring it out,” you practically snap as Andy clears his throat.

“Mom, you said you wouldn’t do this tonight,” Jacob grumbles, throwing down his fork.

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how this is ever gonna work,” she laughs incredulously. “What are you? 22? 23? You know her looks are gonna fade, Andy. She’s either gonna get too old or the money is gonna dry up, but no matter what, she’s gonna leave you!”

“I think that’s enough now,” you warn, not liking how anxious Andy is getting. “You know don’t know anything about anything, so I suggest you quit while you’re ahead.”

“Oh, I know more than you think. I know Andy. He’s never gonna commit to you because he’s still in love with me. You thought your little trip to Hawaii would change things?”

“That’s enough, Laurie,” Andy warns, his anger starting to show itself.

“The hell it is! You can’t even bring yourself to call her your girlfriend! What is this? High School?”

“Laurie, it’s Jacob’s birthday!” you snap, slamming your hand down on the table, causing everyone to jump. “Whatever issues you have with me, for whatever reason, this is neither the time or place to settle it. So, I suggest you stop drinking and focus on the food in front of you. If you’re incapable of doing that, I suggest you leave.”

“You think you can-”

“I just did. You’re unhappiness is your own doing. I’m not going to sit here and let you belittle me because you couldn’t decide on what you wanted. Andy loved you, you messed it up, and now he’s trying to move on. That’s it. Your little outburst isn’t going to change anything, so I suggest you shut the fuck up about it or head home,” you finish, eyebrow cocked as you clench your firsts.

Laurie looks from you to Andy before finishing her drink, grabbing her purse, and storming out.

“Jesus,” Andy mutters, throwing down his fork. “She shouldn’t be driving. Let me get her a service.”

“Dad-”

“I’ll be right back, Buddy. Everything is fine,” he smiles reassuringly at his son before running after Laurie.

“I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine, Jacob,” you smile weakly. “It was bound to happen at some point. It’s fine.”

You and Andy do you your best to salvage what’s left of the night, but the damage is done. When all is said and done, you all awkwardly say goodnight to one another and you and Andy start on the trip home.

“I’m so sorry about that, Angel-”

“Please don’t apologize for her actions. You can’t control-”

“I should’ve known better,” he sighs as you two come to a stop light.

You look at his demeanor and notice how hard he’s gripping the wheel. You know her words got to him, but you aren’t sure just how much.

“What’s wrong, Andy?”

“After all that-”

“Don’t. I know you too well, so please don’t.”

“I don’t wanna argue with you too.”

“Then talk to me. We’ve been doing so good.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t start shutting me out. It only gets us right back to where we started,” you beg. His silence only sets your nerves off, so you start pressing. “While you were away from me, did you see her?”

“Can we please not do this?”

“So you did,” you scoff, looking out the widow. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot!”

“I swear, nothing happened. We just talked.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because I didn’t wanna make you upset!”

“You’re not that fucking stupid, Andy! You had to know she’d bring it up at some point! Whether it was tonight or 6 Christmas’ later, she was bound to bring it up!”

“Listen, we had dinner, talked, cried, argued, and that was that. Yes, I told her that I still love and think about her, but I also told her that it’s time for me to let her go. I can’t be with you and still hold on to her. I told her that I’m happy with you, I love you, and that I’m moving on. She said she’d respect that and wished me all the best.”

“Yeah, cause that’s going so fucking well.”

“Sweetheart, what do you want from me? I’m being honest with you!”

“No, you being honest with me would’ve been you telling me all of shit when you first came home!”

“Yeah, because you were in such a good mood to hear it.”

“Fuck you!”

“What? What can I do to fix this? To make you happy? You wanna go away again? You want a-”

“Don’t fucking try to buy my forgiveness!” you snap. “What else do I need to do to show you that I don’t want your fucking money?!”

“You were all too happy to take it when I met you, and you enjoyed it plenty when we went to Hawaii,” he mutters, pulling up to your apartment and turning off the engine.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, I swear to Christ,” you mumble, wiping away the few tears that you accidentally let slip. “You know what? Don’t do a single fucking thing for me anymore! Don’t pay my rent, don’t take me out, don’t-”

“Sweetheart stop it. I didn’t mean it-”

“No, go fuck yourself, Andy! I’m not doing this shit all over again! I’m not her! I didn’t fucking hurt you!”

“Can we please just-”

“No! I don’t wanna see you! I don’t wanna be with you! How fucking stupid am I?! I keep doing this dance with you and I’m fucking tired of it! Tired of you!” you scream before getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. “I’m done!”

“Don’t,” he warns, getting and slamming the door shut behind. “Don’t you dare fucking say that!”

“I mean it, Andy! I’m over all this shit! I’m so fucking terrible? I’m some fucking leach?! Then don’t fucking be with me! Go be with Laurie or Mary! I don’t give a shit!” you yell as you get inside the complex.

You can feel the stares of your neighbors as you furiously push the ‘Up’ button for the elevator, but you don’t care. You’ve had enough and you deserve better. As you you step inside the elevator, your tears start to come harder as the pain in your heart becomes more and more evident. But you need to do this.

You need to quit Andy.

“You think you can just walk out on me?” Andy questions darkly, slipping into the elevator right before the door closes.

“Stop it, Andy. We’re done. Whatever the fuck this is, it’s done!”

“We’re not ever done, Sweetheart,” he states as he presses your back against the wall. “You think you can just throw us away? You think my love is something you can just get away from?” he questions before kissing the hollow part of your neck.

“Don’t,” you moan softly.

“We argue, Angel, One of the many things we’re good at,” he husks as he hoists you up, your legs doing what they always and wrapping themselves around him tight. “I said some things I didn’t mean and I’m sorry. So fucking sorry,” he promises before biting your neck.

“Andy stop it,” you whimper pathetically, hating how easily you’re giving in to him.

“Don’t ever say that again, you got that, Sweetheart?” he roughly asks as the elevator arrives at your floor.

“I’m not doing this with you again!”

“Oh yes you are.”

Andy has your clothes off and bent over the counter almost as soon as you two get into the apartment, fucking all of his frustration and anger into you from behind.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Angel,” he grunts, his grip on your tight. “I didn’t mean any of it.”

“I fucking hate you, I swear to God,” you moan, clawing at the counter top, loving the roughness of every thrust.

“Stop saying that, you know you don’t. Stop it, please...please don’t say it!”

“Andy-”

“You are every thing to me, Sweetheart. Everything...shit!”

“I fucking hate that I love you! Wish I could...wish I could quit you,” you moan, your release building fast. “Love you so much!”

“Let go for me, Baby! Please!”

“Fuck!” you cry out, your knees almost giving out as you get lost in the pleasure of your release washes over you. “Fill me up, Andy! I need it! Need to feel close to you!”

“Fuck Angel!” Andy grunts, his seed spilling into you as he tries to ride out both of your highs.

You both stay there for a moments, trying to come down from your highs while also trying to handle all of the emotions you both are feeling. You’re so tired of giving into him so easily, but you love him so much. The one person who makes you the happiest also makes you feel the worst.

“I know...I know keep saying I’m sorry and then doing the same shit. I swear I don’t mean it, it’s just...my initial reaction is to just to defend myself.”

“I don’t know how else to show you that I don’t want to hurt you, Andy. I just want to love. All I’ve ever wanted since this became something more is love you and care for you. I can’t do what you don’t let me.”

“I know,” he groans as he pulls out before turning you to face him. “I know that I’m the reason-”

“You keep saying that you know, but you keep doing the same shit, Andy. I can’t keep doing this with you. I love you too much and it hurts too much. I know how badly she hurt you, but I’m not her. You know me well enough to know that I would never do that.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Something’s gotta change or I have to walk away,” you sniffle out. “I’m not your punching bag, Andy.”

You softly push him away from you and slowly make your way to the bedroom. The minute you’re under the covers you just let out all of the tears you’ve been holding in.

Why can’t all of this be simpler?

Andy comes to bed a few minutes later and holds you close, and you’re all too happy to cuddle up to him. Yeah, you’re angry with him, but Andy is still your home. Even when he’s the cause of your pain, he’s still all you want.

“I don’t know why I can’t get my shit together, Sweetheart. I know I’m an asshole and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. I just wanna lay here with you.”

“Whatever you want,” he whispers softly before kissing the top of your head. “Whatever you want.”

Neither one of you says anything, but you can tell that you know there’s a change, and not for the better.

Andy pulls his regular “stay away” routine that he has after every argument you two have, the only difference this time?

You’re not trying to reel him back in.

Soon enough, the arguments become more constant, he’s staying over less, and the love making is more desperate than loving.

“When were you gonna tell me you put your two weeks in?” Andy asks, storming inside your apartment.

“Oh, look who’s here,” you mutter from the sofa.

“Y/N-”

“I told you that I want another job, Andy.”

“I thought you’d at least tell me before you did it!”

“Well, maybe I would have if you were ever here,” you shrug, still not meeting his angry gaze. “I’m not fucking arguing about this, Andy. I don’t want to be there and you keep saying that you don’t want me there-”

“Yeah, but I wanna take care of you-”

“No, you wanna control me.”

“You know that’s not true!”

“Is that something I know? Feels an awful lot like control when you try and persuade me to fucking work for you.”

“Sweetheart-”

“It’s late and I’m tired. Do whatever the fuck you want, I’m going to bed.”

“We’re not even gonna talk about this?”

“Oh, I thought we did? Or does it not count because you’re not getting your way?” you question, finally meeting his gaze as you turn off the TV. You can see all the worry, stress, guilt, and pain that he feels, but it’s become more common than not for you two to hurt one another. “That’s what I thought. Goodnight, Andy,” you sigh before getting up and making your way to your bedroom.

You know it’s the beginning of the end, but you can’t bring yourself to leave him. You keep hoping that there’s a way for you two to get back to where you were, but as arguments become louder and nights become lonelier, you’re almost completely out of hope.

However, there’s one last hope: his birthday.

“Happy Birthday!” you laugh as soon as Andy answers the phone.

“Thank you, baby,” he laughs softly. “I love you.”

“And I love you! What time do you think you’ll be heading over?”

“Oh, actually, the guys are taking me out.”

“Wait...what?”

“Yeah, they’re taking me indoor golfing or something. I’ll come by after.”

“Oh...okay then,” you say softly, biting hard on your bottom lip to hide the disappointment. You feel the tears brimming in your eyes, but you refuse to cry while on the phone with him. “Well, have fun then,” you all but mumble before hanging up.

You all but crumple to the ground as the tears start to flow freely. He knows you two had planned to spend the afternoon together, and you were planning on surprising him with go-kart tickets, because he’s been saying for weeks how he wishes he had more time, because he really wants to go. You’ve made his favorite meal and got his favorite ice cream cake. He went out of his way to hurt you this time, and you’re now more sure than ever, that you two won’t ever find your way back.

You throw out his cake and leave his made plate on the table.

You open a bottle of whiskey and take a seat on the sofa, deciding that you’re done. You’ve had enough and you’re not gonna stay around for him to hurt you any longer.

When you hear the door open at 11, you roll your eyes and keep them glued to the TV. You hear him sigh and you’re guessing that hes either seen the cake in the trash or the food on the table.

Whatever it is, you don’t care and you hope he feels like shit. You hope he’s having the worst birthday ever.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me-”

“You’re the one who said, in Hawaii, that you wanted us to spend your birthday together. That was your fucking request.”

“Y/N-”

“So I, like a fucking idiot, spend the day making you your favorite food, getting your favorite fucking cake, ready to surprise you with fucking go-kart tickets, just for you to blow me off. However, I guess that it shouldn’t have been a surprise since that seems to be the only thing you’re capable of these days.”

“That’s not true and you know it!”

“I hope you’re not here for birthday sex, because I’m a little too drunk for that,” you scoff before finishing off your drink.

“Don’t.”

“Well, what the fuck do you want, Andy? It’s obviously not to spend time with me.”

“Of course I want to spend-”

“No, because if you truly wanted to, you would have invited me out with you.”

“You know why I couldn’t,” he scowls, leaning against the table.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” you snap, finally turning your attention to him.

“You know exactly what it means.”

You can feel your heart breaking but you can’t drop it. “You said you aren’t ashamed of me.”

“I’m not, but just because I’m not doesn’t mean I can just bring you around. They all know how we met, what you used to do.”

“I’ve only ever slept with you!”

“Be that as it may-”

“I would never do that to you, Andy. Never say something like that!”

“Well, it’s not my fault you love me more than I love you,” he shrugs, but the look on his face tells you that he instantly regrets it.

“Get out!” you shout at him, finally getting off of the sofa and storming over to him.

“Y/N-”

“GET OUT!” you scream, tears flowing freely as you start to shove him.

“Baby, please just-”

“Get out, get out, GET OUT!” you scream, your hands furiously hitting him in the chest repeatedly.

Andy sighs in defeat before slowly turning around and leaving. The minute the door closes, you sink the floor and start crying uncontrollably. You love him more than he loves you? What the fuck are you even doing anymore? Why haven’t cut yourself free of him?

Because you’re a fool in love. That’s why.

You cry until you fall asleep, wanting nothing than to just talk to your Mother. You want nothing more for her to hug you tight and tell you that’ll all be okay, but like everything else in your life, what you love and crave the most, you can‘t have.

Andy waits three days before finally texting you.

My Beautiful Disaster: I know you hate me and you have every right, but please come by my office today. I wanna take you out to lunch and talk things out. I really want to work this out. I was so wrong and out of line. Please, just meet me and we’ll figure all this shit out.

You laid in bed and read the text over and over again. He’s always sorry, always trying to make it up to you, always saying what you want to hear but never actually following through.

Well, not this time. Not anymore.

You get out of bed and go through your drawers until you find one of the skimpy lingerie Andy bought for you when you two first started seeing each other. You curl your hair and apply your makeup perfectly. You put on the lacy skinny black heels he loves and look yourself over in the mirror. You need to make sure you look perfect. You grab his ratty old trench coat before grabbing your car keys and making your way out and start on your way to his job.

When you finally get there, you take a deep breath as you shut off your car. A million thoughts running through your head as you try to build up the courage to do what needs to be done.

‘It’s now or never, babe,’ you tell yourself mentally.

When you get out of the car, you make the sure the coat is tight and secure around you before making your way up the steps and inside the large and intimidating building. When you ask the receptionist for directions to Andy’s office, you don’t miss the way she looks you over, and you can feel the eyes of what feels like one hundred men on you.

‘Focus on the task at hand,’ you remind yourself.

You quickly make your way to his office and take a deep breath before knocking on his door.

“Come in,” he states softly, sounding distracted by something.

You push down the lump in your throat blink back tears before opening the door then quickly closing it behind you.

“What’s up...Sweetheart?” Andy questions, eyebrow cocked as he looks over you, his eye settling on your heels. “What’s...”

“I figured we’d just jump straight to it,” you shrug before opening the trench coat.

“W..what-”

“This is what you really want, right? To fuck me? To keep fucking me? So, lets just do it. You don’t even have to pay me for it now.”

“Y/N-”

“No Andy. You always apologize then do the same shit. I always fucking believe you, because I’m a fucking moron, and then you do the same fucking thing. But as long as you’re a good fuck, I guess I should be grateful, right? I always let you in my fucking pussy, and my fucking heart, and you just abuse the love I have for you. So, instead of you telling me shit I wanna hear, lets just jump to the part you love the most. Besides, you said it the other night; all your little buddies know exactly how we met and what I used to do. I’m your little slut, right? Your little money loving slut?”

“Sweetheart, please-”

“No. I don’t wanna hear it anymore. You don’t have to lie to me anymore. Just fuck me and get it over with. As per usual, take what you want from me and then toss me aside.”

“That’s not what I want at all,” he sobs softly. “You know I love you. I just-”

“There’s always a fucking excuse! I don’t want to cry anymore, I don’t wanna feel my heart break anymore, and I don’t wanna keep hoping for you to change. For you to love me as much as I love you. So, lets just go back to what this has always been. Sex. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you hold me afterwards so you can feel like we actually have something special.”

“If you’ll just hear me out-”

“I’m tired of hearing you out,” you sniffle, wiping away tears. “I’m tired of believing in you, I’m tired of taking you back, I’m tired of you always making an excuse as to why you can’t just fucking be with me...I’m tired of all of it. So, if you’re not gonna fuck me, I’m gonna be going.”

“Please-”

“Bye Andy,” you sob before opening his office door and storming out, not even bothering to close the coat.

By the time you get back to your car, you’re a blubbering mess. The hardest part is about to happen, but you know that if you don’t take the next step, you’ll never be free of him.

When you get back to your apartment, you pack all of your things (and a few of Andy’s sweaters), before grabbing a pen and paper and leaving him a note. You take one final look around before placing the key to the apartment on top of the note you left for him on the kitchen counter.

It’s time for you to say goodbye to Andy for good.

Andy’s P.O.V.

How could be so stupid? How the fuck could I have said that? You love me more than I love you? That’s probably the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever told. What is it that always makes me treat you like shit? I know for a fact that there’s nothing you’d ever do to hurt me, and I just keep pushing. Pushing you to do what I want, away, towards anger...I keep fucking this up and I really fucking wish I could figure out why.

Why couldn’t I just tell you that I saw Laurie? It truly meant nothing, I just needed some fucking closure.

That night was so fucking terrible, but I’d do it all over again if it meant I could feel the sense of freedom I felt when I left the restaurant that night.

“I’m really happy to see you, Andy,” Laurie beamed at me as I took a seat across from her.

“You look good,” I smiled awkwardly. They’re so many emotions running through my mind, of course they all go back to Y/N, but I need to get through this if I want us to have any real chance.  “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Well, you said you wanted to talk-”

“I don’t wanna be rude, but I’m gonna stop you right there. I don’t want to get your hopes up and make you think we have a chance at working things out. This isn’t that at all.”

“Oh,” is all she said and for just a moment, I felt like an asshole. Then I remember my reason for doing all of this.

Y/N.

“I want to start off by apologizing to you. The last few years of our marriage was a shit show to say the least, and me being an asshole didn’t help a fucking thing.”

“It’s not like I didn’t push you to it.”

“I shouldn’t have acted out like that. I was angry, hurt, and I just wanted to hurt you. However, no matter what happened between us, you’re still Jacob’s mother and I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I let my pain bleed all over every thing and turn me into someone I don’t like. Someone I don’t recognize. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” she smiled softly as the waiter approached to take our drink order.

There was a time that smile meant everything to me and I’d be lying if I said it breaks my heart with how little it means to me now.

“So, if we’re not here to talk about trying again, I’m guessing we’re to talk about her,” Laurie sighed, sitting back a little after the waiter walked off.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Andy. That I’m happy for you? That I want the best for you?”

“That’s exactly what I want you to say, Laurie. I didn’t do this to us. I fought hard as hell to save our marriage and you decided you didn’t want it anymore. I couldn’t change your mind so I lashed out. In doing so, I met Y/N and Laurie...I love her. I fucking love her so much and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Andy-”

“I still love you, Laurie. A part of me probably always will, but I can’t ever be with you again. Not after everything we’ve been through, but I wanna try with her. I want to really try,” I practically mumbled as the waiter came back with our drinks. I’m not surprised that neither of us wants a thing to drink; wanting to be as numb as possible.

“She’s just a mouth keep your cock warm, Andy. You think you love her-”

“Don’t,” I scoffed. “Don’t belittle her when you don’t know a thing about her. She is funny, smart as a fucking whip, compassionate, thoughtful, an amazing cook, loving, hard working, loyal...she’s amazing, Laurie. Jacob loves her-”

“Great.”

“I had to move on at some point and you know that.”

“I really didn’t want you to.”

“I tried to make it work with you, Laurie. I really did,” a smiled weakly, my eyes watering just a little. “We had a good run though. No one can say we didn’t have our moment in the sun.”

“We really did,” she sniffled out as wiped her eyes. “So, what made you realize that you’re really in love with this...woman.”

“I’ve known for a while, but I’ve been too afraid to commit. Then we went to Hawaii-”

“That was supposed to be our trip.”

“We were supposed to have a lot of things, babe.”

“Yeah, my bad, I fucked that up,” she chuckled humorlessly. “Anyway, you two went to Hawaii...”

“It was just perfect. The small gestures overwhelmed her and the biggest ones had her hugging me for hours. We danced, we went on adventures, we had deep and personal talks, we stayed up to watch the sunrise...what I’m about to say, I’m not saying to hurt you, but she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Yeah, I know I look like a dirty old man, but it’s nothing to do with how old she is. If anything, that’s just a bonus. Someone like her loving someone as fucked as me...it’s unreal. She’s perfect and I’m losing her because I’m afraid. I wanted to have this dinner...I need closure, Laurie. I can’t move forward with her if I don’t have closure with you.”

“Andy-”

“Laurie, I want us to be okay, maybe even be friends, but I can’t keep feeling like my happiness is destroying you. Yeah, in the beginning, I did wanna hurt you like you hurt me, but now...I just wanna be happy again. I wanna be happy with her and not feel like it’s crushing you.”

“I guess I kinda owe you, don’t I?” she sobbed, weak smile on her face.

If only she knew how much it was tearing me apart to do this to her.

“I can....I can be nice to her,” she sniffled. “Like her? That’s not gonna happen any time soon, but I can be nice. If it lasts, I can come around to the idea of being friendly with her at some point. She makes you happy and she makes Jacob happy, so I don’t have much of a choice do I?”

“Thank you, Laurie.”

The rest of the night was filled with planning and crying, trying to be civil, and coming to the conclusion that we truly are better apart than together at this point. When all was said and done, we said our goodbyes and wished each other the best before heading off.

I had planned to tell you that night, but when I got to your place and saw that you were already drunk and upset, how was I supposed to say anything? Yeah, a smarter man would have. A better man would have, but I’m neither of those things. So, instead, I just hold you tell you that I love you and I want to commit.

I tell you I love you and want to commit, and then don’t fucking do it.

Instead of being the man I wanted to be, I was a coward and ran and hid from you the moment we got into a huge argument over my fucking ex-wife.

Why the fuck did her words have to get to me? Why is this so hard for me? Why can’t I just take the fucking leap? You’re probably more terrified than I am, but you’re still waiting and hoping for me to be a better person. I keep fucking failing you and I wish I could stop.

I want to stop.

Every time I think I’m ready to commit, I remember the time I caught Laurie cheating in the home we made, in the house I bought, and chicken out. It’s easier for me to be an asshole than for me to be a boyfriend. I hear myself when we argue and I know that I’m being a complete asshole, but I’m just fucking scared and so wounded. I know I can be and do better for you, but I’ve been resorting to being a complete dickhead for so long, it’s the first thing I resort to and once I’m in the mindset, I can’t get out of it.

However, seeing you like I did today. Crying, truly believing that all I want from you is sex...what have I done to us? How was I a big enough fool to not chase after you?

Jesus, I’m such a fucking idiot.

I’m not gonna keep being this guy though. I’ll show you, and everyone else, that you’re the only one for me. You’re perfect for me and I’m decent enough for you. Things are gonna be different from here on out.

I’m gonna commit and make you the happiest woman on earth. A life without you is a life I don’t wanna live, and I hate that its taken me this long to figure it out.

“Sweetheart?” I call as soon as I unlock the apartment door. “Sweetheart, I’m finally fucking ready! I know I have a lifetime to prove...” I stop as I see the an apartment key on the kitchen counter. “No,” I whisper to myself. “She didn’t.”

I slowly make my way to the counter top, barely able to keep my balance as I hunch over the counter.

This isn’t happening. I didn’t fuck up this bad.

‘My dearest Andy,

I love you. I love you more than I love life itself. You’re the center of my universe and the reason I smile. The first thought I have in the morning and the last thought I have at night. Basically, you’re everything to me...but, I’m not everything to you. I don’t doubt that you tried, because I could see you making the effort, but in the end...it’s just not enough. I can’t keep waiting for you, Andy. I saw the picture of us on your desk and I know...I know just how much I mean to you. I know I don’t love you more than you love me, but you still said it. The words still ring as clear as day in my head. I can’t keep being the person you attack when you’re scared. I didn’t do this to you. I didn’t do this to us, and if I’m honest, I just don’t have the strength and patience anymore. I know a lot of this is on me, because I kept making excuses for you, kept coming back, and kept pretending things didn’t hurt as much as they did. You told me that I need to communicate with you and I didn’t. Anyway, I’m just dragging this out I guess...I paid the bill for this month and next month...I gotta go, baby. I can’t keep doing this with you...I just can’t. I keep saying that, but it’s true. If only you fucking knew. Please take care of yourself, I love you so much. I’m gonna miss the hell out of you and Jacob. I did take a few of your sweaters, but you probably won’t notice or miss them. Treat the next woman better, okay? Treat her the way you wanted to treat me. I truly believe we’re soulmates, we just found each other at the wrong time. Ain’t life a bitch?

All my love in this life and the next,

Y/N’

I can’t stop reading the note as I slowly sink down to the ground. You’re gone? No, you can’t be. This is just a fucking warning to get me to act right. One that I deserve. However, the fact that all traces of you are gone, has reality hitting me too hard.

You’re gone. Really fucking gone.

What the fuck have I done?

**

Andy’s been calling and texting you non-stop for the last 2 weeks, and its taken all the strength you have in you to not respond. You’ve never felt more alone in your life. Thank God for Allison, because she’s been letting you stay at her place, rent free, since you left the apartment Andy got for you as you try and figure it all out. It helps that she finally dumped Tyler, so now there’s more space for you two to just sit and wallow.

Lindsey comes over almost daily to check on the both you, giving Allison rides to work when she’s too out of it to drive, and while it is a godsend, you just wanna be left alone.

You’ve applied to a few restaurants, but your heart isn’t in anything. You just want to sulk for a bit and lick your wounds. There isn’t a day that goes by that you’re not thinking about Andy and how he’s doing. You wonder if he’s eating regularly, drinking enough water, keeping up with his exercises, sleeping enough (he’s a terrible sleeper when his anxiety is high), and if he’s getting his work done to the best of his ability.

Both Allison and Lindsey assure you that he hasn’t been at the club, but you don’t want to think about that. You don’t even let yourself think about the possibility of him being with someone else. Your main focus as of late has been to just get out of bed and at least eat once again.

“You have to get out of the house, babe,” Allison sighs as she gets in beside you.

“I just the ground to swallow me whole.”

“It’s not always gonna feel like this.”

“I love him so much and I know-”

“You deserve better, babe.”

“I don’t want better, I just want Andy.”

“Hun...oh, who the fuck is that?” Allison mutters before getting up to see who’s at the front door. “What are you doing here?” she snaps and you can’t tell whose her so mad so fast. “How did you even get my address?...I’m gonna kill Sam!”

Andy.

“It doesn’t matter that you want to see her, because she doesn’t wanna see you...I don’t care what you think! You need to leave!”

As her anger rises, and you assume Andy refuses to leave, you sigh in defeat before forcing yourself out of bed. You slide your feet into your favorite black fuzzy slippers before pulling one of Andy’s old college sweatshirts on.

Your new constant outfit.

“I’ll handle it, Allison,” you mumble, standing behind her.

“Y/N, you don’t owe him-”

“I need to do this. I can’t keep moping around your house and I need to set things straight. Hiding in your house clearly isn’t getting me anywhere.”

“Are you sure?”

“Can’t feel any worse than I do now,” you shrug, fiddling with your fingers.

Allison sighs in defeat and takes a step back. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

You keep your gaze on your feet as you make your way out onto the porch and close the door slightly behind you. You don’t even wanna think about how much of a mess you look right now. Your hair is in a messy bun, your eyes look like they’ve gone grocery shopping with all the bags underneath them, and you can’t remember the last time you weren’t crying.

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t Andy. Just don’t,” you sniffle.

There’s no way you’re gonna last long without crying.

“Please don’t make this any harder than it already is for us.”

“I’m ready now, Sweetheart. For real this time, I’m ready for any and every thing with you! I didn’t mean any of what I said that night-”

“Andy stop!” you start to cry. “You always say you don’t mean the cruel things you say, but you continue to say them! There’s no excuse for the way you’ve treated me and I’ve done nothing to deserve them! Jesus, you’re entire my world and this ids destroying me! I tried so many times to show you just how much I love you, that I would never hurt you, that I would never do what she did! I stayed when everyone else told me to leave you! I defended you when everyone called you a flaming pile of shit! I did all of this in hopes of finally getting to be with you, but what did I get instead? Lonely nights and a broken heart! You know what makes this worse? Half the shit I wanna be mad at you for, I can’t! You never lied to me about how you were feeling, you always said you didn’t know if you’d ever be ready for a relationship, and you told me time and time again that fear wins every single fucking time. But I was hopeful...so fucking hopeful,” you sob, wiping your eyes.

“I’m ready now,” he cries. “Losing you...I’m ready, Y/N. We can take this at whatever pace you want, but please just-”

“It’s just too little too late,” you sniffle, mustering up all the courage you have to finally look up and meet his mournful gaze. God, this is tearing you apart. “Please don’t call me anymore. Don’t call me. Don’t try and see me...I need to...we need to let one another go.”

“You don’t-”

“Yes I do, Andy. I mean it no matter how much it pains me. We can’t keep doing this toxic little dance. The highs are amazing, but lows are hell and I just don’t have the strength for it anymore. I don’t want to keep trying to be perfect for you, just so you can make me feel like I’m some shameful secret.

“I’m the one who isn’t perfect for you.”

“You were everything I wanted and more. It just took too long for you to see it,” you sob, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe your eyes,

“Y/N,” Andy begs, taking hold of your wrist softly “if you could just please-”

“I love you, Andy. I love you more than you’ll ever know. Please take care of yourself.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“I’ve gotta go, baby. I’ve gotta move on and so do you,” you smile weakly. You pull him close and kiss him softly on the lips. “I’m gonna miss you,” is all you say before turning and stepping into the house then instantly closing the door behind you.

You can’t hear anything Allison is saying as she rushes to your side and wraps you in a tight hug. All you can hear and feel is your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces all over again. You want nothing more than to open the door and tell Andy you don’t mean it. You wanna tell him that you’ll take him back and be with him like you’ve been longing for.

You just want Andy.

As you cry into Allison’s shoulder, you keep telling yourself mentally that you made the right choice. That it’ll stop hurting after a while and you’ll love again. However, with the pain that you’re feeling, you can’t believe any of what you’re thinking. What if you only ever get one real love in this life?

What if you just closed the door on yours?

~~

taglist: @whxre4cevans​, @fuckingbye​, @maroonsunrise83​, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​, @autumnrose40​, @emerald-evans​

#Defending Jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #defending jacob fanfic #defending jacob smut #defending jacob one shot #andy barber #andy barber fic #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x reader #Andy Barber smut #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #fan fic smut #I know I'm forgetting something

[whump-town]

As Fate Befell 

this chapter was supposed to be longer but this is the only place I could cut it within the next 3k words that wouldn't just disrupt the flow so enjoy

Word Count: 5k

(the team actually shows up in the next chapter so yay!)

Chapter Two

Jessica hasn’t held Aaron’s hand in a long time. 

It’s rougher now than she remembers. Shovels and pitchforks and wood have put calluses on his palms and hardened the inside of his hands. Aaron is someone new entirely. She mourns her friend, her brother, and he’s right here. Cruelty knows no end, grieving the loss of someone who still breathes right beside you. Having changed so severely that she loves him because he looks like someone she used to know. But who he is now is just a stranger.

There was a time when she would have considered him her closest friend. She told him everything. He sat on Haley’s bedroom floor, curled around a throw pillow, leaning forward with his mouth slightly open in surprise while Jessica went into detail about how her prom date had tried some slick shit. The only thing that changed with time was the location. They became adults and Aaron got to sit on the bed with Haley and Jessica, still holding a pillow to his chest, and giving her that same shocked look. The divorce stopped those old bedroom chats. 

He was her friend first, after all, before Haley married him. From the start, Aaron expressed continuous unease around the idea of being committed in a serious relationship with someone like Haley – so bright and right. Jessica had always assured him that the three of them had been through far too much together to completely abandon each other. And she was right. 

He broke Haley’s heart and then she broke his. 

The divorce was messy but not messy like what might be presumed. Hotch did most of the late-night knocking, showing up on the porch of their old house with bruises and welts but just in his right mind enough to take himself home. Most of the time he slipped into the quiet darkness of Jack’s bedroom, watching his son breathe with the minimal light coming through the Captain America nightlight in Jack’s room. Some nights Haley came in and put him to bed too, encouraging him out of Jack’s tiny desk chair into the tiny toddler bed. Standing a moment too long in the dark to watch the only man she ever loved breathe in sync with their son, one of his arms curled over  Jack’s chest. Some nights she took his hand and pulled him back to their old room, crawling into comfort she told herself she no longer needed. And Hotch made that same journey for Haley, too. A little flower or wine as his peace offering for his silent plea for her not to turn him away. To let him be around people for an afternoon instead of sending him back to his apartment and his whiskey. 

Jessica never picked a side. She didn’t want to have to keep watching them tear each other apart. It only hurt them both more. Sure, Haley would smile all morning long as she walked around in Aaron’s pajamas. And Aaron would come downstairs showered and shaved for work, looking the most like himself with color in his face and a soft smile, but Jessica knew the kiss he stopped to press to the top of Haley’s head would only make things worse. Because then they would fight again. Haley would cry her make-up off her face, a puddle of confusion and anger as she admitted to knowing better. She knew better but Aaron was Aaron, she’d never loved anybody else. And Aaron would lock himself away in that apartment, answer his door clearly not having showered since he got off his latest case, with a glass-half-full in his hands. Depressed and isolated but too tired to deny Jessica entry into his apartment. 

The crazy thing about all of that is that it doesn’t even feel like something that happened. Jessica remembers these things clearly. She was the bad guy. The realist grabbed Haley by the shoulders and demanded that she just sign the damn divorce papers or Jessica would just do it herself. The mean sister unwilling to hear any more of Haley’s crying about Aaron running off to another state for another case when he promised he’d be around for something important to her. She was the bad guy dumping Aaron’s whiskey down the drain, sending him to bed with her hands on her hips and the threat to get him sober if it killed them both. Pressing cold wash clothes to his forehead as he nursed hangovers but giving him an ear-full about responsibility. How he could fuck things up with Haley all he wanted, his love life was not something she was interested in, but she wouldn’t stand by and let him turn himself into a drunk. That’s not what Jack deserved. Aaron was better than that. 

Those people don’t even exist anymore. 

Haley died. 

Jack died. 

Aaron died. 

What’s left from that is just ash, no survivors. Nothing but soot covered her fingers, the bare carbon remnants of what was once whole. That’s all Aaron is now, his true carbon. A body but not Aaron, not the boy she grew up or the man she trusts. Just the bare carbon remnants. 

“How is he?” 

Jessica sniffles, glancing at Sean before running her hand under her nose. Attempting to clean her face of the tears she hadn’t even realized had begun to fall. Silly, she thinks, getting lost in her own head like that. In memories, she’d promised herself to keep a little further away than that. Something she thinks about at midnight, alone when she knows no one will hear her crying. Certainly not something she can talk to Sean about. Aaron’s not really her brother. He’s Sean’s. It makes her feel stupid for feeling that way. For forgetting that Aaron isn’t actually her family. 

She smiles, a sad tense almost frowns, just polite hopefulness. A facade. “Just sleeping,” she says, her voice rough. She wipes her nose again, flicking tears from the corners of her eyes with her thumb. “The nurse said he’s sedated but that he’ll sleep for a while.” She motions with a limp hand around them very generally, “all this… you know? He’ll be tired.” 

Sean nods, not generally sure what more to do than that. The whole heart attack thing is turning out to be a little more intense than Sean thought it would be. This was always a chance. This was always going to happen but that doesn’t eliminate the stress. The way Sean thought they had more time before the inevitable. Aaron’s heart shouldn’t have made it this long, really. He probably should have died with Haley and Jack, it’s no secret that he would have preferred it that way. But the way things are now is normal. It’s not always preferable but Sean likes it. He enjoys his own second chance at life. 

A new one. New York was never a good idea. Law school wasn’t either – that’s just not Sean. He still gets into plenty of trouble now. Drinks a little too much on the weekend and gets high before noon every day but he has control. He has responsibilities. Sure he might fuck them up but he always gets around to them. For the first time in his life, Sean is dependable. He makes money, no funny business. It’s tame and a little boring and Sean couldn’t imagine ever wanting to give that up. 

But he’s not sure what happens now. 

Jessica sits on the edge of Aaron’s bed, one foot on the ground and her other knee up on the bed, parallel to Aaron’s thigh. She’s holding his hand, running her fingers over his knuckles as she tries to make sense of it all. All the ducks have to stay in line and they’re not her ducks but she’s the only one who knows how to orchestrate the madness. “You left Daisy at the house?”

Sean looks up, barely able to meet Jessica’s eyes. He can’t look at Aaron. Sean’s seen him worse but that doesn’t make it easier. He nods, not trusting his voice. 

“I bet she’s carrying on,” Jessica sighs. It’s a fond sigh. Sean had brought Daisy from the pound one day without any warning. They’d just moved to the farm and Aaron was in no shape to actually start doing anything. He was bed-bound and spent his days sleeping and his waking hours fighting with Jessica. Sean came in the front door with a bag of dog food over one shoulder and her leash in his other hand. The pound was going to put her down but Sean couldn’t stand the thought of it. 

She’d been his dog, originally. A friend to follow him around the farm while he worked. It could get lonely out there and he didn’t even think anyone would notice Daisy. They didn’t. She was there for three days before she nosed her way into Aaron’s room one night. Sean found her the next morning curled up in the bend of Aaron’s knees, not budging an inch no matter how frantically he whispered her name. 

And from then on she’d been Aaron’s dog. 

Aaron didn’t like it. He tolerated it. Sean promised Daisy would get over it, she’d get her fill of the grumpy old bastard and return to Sean. But no amount of Sean’s treats or other bribery sway her opinion on which Hotchner she preferred. She loves Jess too, and only leaves Aaron’s bed at night if Jessica is up. The soft clack clack of her nails on the wood a familiar greeting to Jess’s late nights. 

Daisy is not at all pleased with the situation right now, Sean could hear her howling and barking as he drove away. She’s not used to being alone. And on top of it all, Sean doesn’t doubt Daisy knows exactly what happened. 

“Stupid dog,” Sean mumbles, turning his head to the side so he can wipe at his own eyes. Thinking about Daisy makes his chest hurt. What will happen if Aaron dies now? Daisy will be heartbroken. “I don’t know why she likes him more than me.”

Jessica huffs but she can’t agree. Aaron feeds the dog from his plate all day. She’s watched him sit out on the porch and cut up an apple, giving Daisy an equal half. He gives her half his sandwiches and his chips. Aaron just needs her more. 

“Visiting hours end soon,” Jessica reminds Sean, not sure yet that she can even stomach the thought of leaving but the hour is closing in on eight and the nurses won’t make any exceptions. 

“Yeah.” 

The tears start again and Jessica keeps her back to him. “I don’t want to leave him here.” Aaron’s a miserable son of a bitch. She hates him most days. Goes to bed cursing him and spends all day hitting him with magazines and fussing about his bad habits but he’s still Aaron. Maybe not always but he’s there. Just hints of him in the flowers he picks every week to put in vases. The zucchini he grows in the garden is just for Jess because no one else likes them. His nightstand with his reading glasses and stack of books. It’s easy to hate him and that much harder to love him. 

“He’ll–” Sean wants to sound encouraging, certain but he takes one look at Aaron and he can’t be. “They’ll take care of him, Jess.” 

She looks over her shoulder, nose red, and eyes puffy. She nods after a moment, pausing for so long to just look at Sean. Like she’s reading his face to predict the future, searching him for some glimpse of it. But he doesn’t know and neither does she. 

___________________

The sun creeping in through the blinds is Sean’s wake-up call. Annoying rays of light right in his eyes, he turns his back to them but the room is too bright. The sun against his back makes him too warm and he caves to the idea of more sleep with an annoyed huff, tossing the blankets off his body. It takes him a moment to rub the sleep away from the corners of his eyes, to force his body to be as awake as the rest of the world. A miserable affair and, yet, he can’t complain. Waking up on his own has perks, it’s better than having Aaron in here making his morning demands. Already wide-awake and the sun hasn’t even fully reached the sky. 

The floor’s hardwood is warm, the sun has had a chance to sit on it and bring the wood to a very forgiving temperature. Sean yawns, stretching his arms above his head until a muscle in his side decides he shouldn’t be bending like that. He pulls on clothes without any real thought. Jeans from the floor, favorable to the dresser drawer he has full of clean ones. His belt already looped this one. He grabs a pair of clean socks and heads downstairs, careful of creaking floorboards and the third step down that always gives a particularly loud complaint to being used. 

Coffee is always a good wake-up call but it’s only the first pot, hasn’t had a chance to marinate the house with the full smell of morning time. Sean grunts a greeting to Jessica, as polite as he can be at nine in the morning. 

“Creamer is on the table,” Jess hums. She’s sitting in her robe, one of the barn cats curled up in her lap and the other laying close by on the table, bathing in the sun from the window. They’re barn cats because that’s where Aaron found them. Two kittens from a litter that was born in the winter. Aaron brought them in from the cold swaddled in his coat, half-frozen. Two surviving kittens from a litter of four, Aaron had spent many sleepless nights nursing the ugly little things back to life. He claims no attachment to them, just as he claims no attachment to any of the animals scattered along the farm. Least of all the barn cats but the tuna in the cabinet tells a different story. And the fact that the barn cats haven’t slept in a barn since the night Aaron brought them in. 

Sean lays over the table, left hand curled around his warm mug of coffee and cheek against the sun-warmed wood. “I wanna sleep forever,” he yawns, but the smell of his coffee is alluring. Just the smell is waking him, slow and warm. He could walk out into the woods right now and have his very own Rip Van Winkle slumber covered in the safety of the heavy foliage of thick leaves overhead and he’d still wake up exhausted. 

Jess looks at the stove’s clock, it’s only seven. She thinks they’ve got another hour before they can visit Aaron.  

Daisy was up all night. The jingle of her collar gave away her anxious pacing as she walked between the walls of Aaron’s room. Finally, she’d crawled onto his bed in the early hours of the morning and hadn’t moved.  Jessica had tried to encourage the dog downstairs for breakfast but she wouldn’t come. Just gave Jessica a pitiful look from where she’d curled into Aaron’s unmade bed. Half tucked under the sheets. 

Usually, the cats would be upstairs too. They prefer to lay on the opposite side of Aaron than Daisy, effectively pinning him between the three of them. He’d fought against the new bedmates and found them to be more stubborn than him. The cats are just as loyal as Daisy, following him around the farm with their belled collars jingling along. He calls them One and Two. They answer to their names, trotting up to Aaron with happy chirps. 

He’d likely call Daisy “Dog” if she hadn’t come from the pound with a name. Sean got her the week they moved onto the farm. Jessica was working day and night to keep Aaron alive. Sleeping in his bed at night so she’d wake up when he did, never give a chance to get the time alone. She kept his ruined hand clean and made his appointments with the occupational therapist. A local man, a fresh graduate with a penchant for talking on and on through his sessions without any sort of reprieve or notice that Aaron couldn’t care less about the young man’s stories or thoughts. She kept him alive and Sean worked. 

Long lonely hours out in a field that needed a lot of work and all they had was time. Sean’s escape was out in the town, at a cheap bar run by locals. And enough wandering around and he found Daisy. There was a shelter downtown, one night of drunk stumbling brought him to it. Sean didn’t think about going in until he got back home, just drunk enough to climb into Aaron’s bed. Lay on the other side of him and wander… Well, what harm could a pet do? 

All three animals were up waiting when Jess and Sean got home. Inspecting them both before realizing that Aaron wouldn’t be following them in. Daisy whined at the door for an hour before giving up, retreating to Aaron’s room without touching the kibble Sean poured for her. The cats were nowhere to be found after they disappeared into some quiet corner of the house. Unhappy that their human wasn’t around and clearly willing to allow Sean and Jess to substitute. 

Daisy had been frantic when the ambulance drove up the driveway, barking and carrying on in a way that Sean had never seen. She barks and she’ll get a little too excited with the other animals but she’s generally very well behaved. Calm, really. Sean had to put her in the house, physically take her by her collar and walk her up there because she wasn’t budging from Aaron’s side. And she howled pitifully from the screen door, pawing as they carried Aaron away. 

Sean sits up, something in his back giving an audible pop with the stretch. “Give me a few minutes,” he asks, taking his coffee mug with him. “I gotta go feed the goats and make sure shit is in order before his royal majesty–” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat. It doesn’t feel right to make fun of Aaron right now. Doesn’t feel good, really. “I’ll be back.” 

It’s been a long time since Sean has run things just by himself. He’s at least a little certain that he’s only doing this by himself today. Aaron will get out of the hospital and things should just return to something like normal. He’ll be out here cursing underneath his breath and fighting Grey the goat who adores him for reasons no one can tell. Loves him and also really enjoys running into the backs of his knees so he falls down. Normalcy is all Sean has to cling onto. 

Jessica isn’t a safe lifeline right now. 

She drives them to the hospital, speeding the whole way. Sean just holds on, he knows better than to comment on how she hits the potholes hard enough for him to worry about the suspension in her car. Anything short of his silence and he’s certain she’ll flip out on him. And if he can help it, he’d like to make sure her anger is properly directed at the right Hotchner. Not just the one trapped in a car with her. 

The real culprit is sleeping when they arrive, looking blissfully relaxed in a way that can only be medicated. Sean feels bad then for the wrath of holy hell that will come raining down when Aaron wakes up. Having a heart attack really isn’t Aaron’s fault. His heart is damaged. Literally broken. But Jessica will still make a point of lecturing Aaron on something. She can’t help it. When she’s scared, she’s angry. 

Angry Jessica just hasn’t made her appearance yet. 

She can’t. Aaron’s curled on his side, his right hand touching the guard rail. He’s pulled his blankets up to his chin, sleeping soundly. The oxygen canal under his nose and the I.V. in his hand are the only giveaways that anything is wrong. He looks peaceful, content. It won’t last long.

Jessica sits on the edge of the bed again, taking his right hand. The left is tucked under the blanket, carefully pulled away from sight. He’s self-conscious of it. The lack of mobility is taunting but the scars are numerous and they catch the eye. 

The movement pulls Hotch up from the drugged haze, just slivers of his eyes visible. “Jess,” he breathes, fingers twitching against her palm. 

She smiles, continuing to run her thumb up and over his knuckles. Back and forth, a motion that soothes her more than him. He’s only vaguely aware of himself. The tips of his fingers are still numb. His lips tingle and his nose itches. Nothing seems to follow his command, neither brain nor body. Though he’s not sure what he wants, it isn’t this. Sitting up would be nice but the way the blood will gather in his face, making him hot and sweaty, probably means relying on his chest to sit up. Sounds like a nightmare and too much pain. 

“How are you holding up?” Sean asks but he freezes when Aaron’s eyes find him. His own heart feels like it’s going to explode as Aaron’s eyes flutter back shut. Aaron whispers his name and that’s all the answer he gets. Aaron tries to blink his eyes back open but it hurts, an exhausted kind of hurt to keep them open. Sean chuckles nervously, “must have you on some good stuff.” 

Aaron’s response is a hum, a disjointed, loose hum. Just a sound he makes. 

“I’m gonna talk to the doctor,” Jessica tells him, hand moving up to Aaron’s hair. She pushes through the grime, dirty already from the sweat and hospital movements. 

Aaron makes another noise, less intelligent than the first. Just a recognition of words being said and not much else. He moves his hand when she lets it go, eyes just barely opening to watch her stand up. He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to. Jessica leans over the rail and kisses the top of his head, not bothered by his unwashed hair. He softly exhales, fingers twitching again. “Sean will sit with you,” she whispers. 

Sean looks up like a dear in headlights. That sounds like a nightmare but Jessica is leaving, there are no other options. 

“Hey,” he awkwardly offers, glancing back and forth between the chair and the bed. Jessica sat on the bed and held his hand, but Sean’s not sure that’s really something he can do. He starts to sit on the edge of the bed but it immediately isn’t right. Aaron’s eyes are open again, looking at him. So he just repositions himself to the most comfortable way to sit. “I, ugh, you, ugh–” Sean looks down at his lap and fidgets with his fingers. “Ugh, Grey, you know the goat? He knocked me over this morning. Must have thought I was you.” 

Aaron smirks, just a little. “Hate that goat.”

“Yeah?” Sean says, chuckling, “me too.” Grey is their oldest goat. An elderly old thing that crept onto their farm and decided that’s where he’d stay. He was from three farms over and no matter how many times they returned him he always came back. He was the first goat. Then there were two babies that Sean bought, too much wine makes him soppy. He’d had a whole bottle and the idea of leaving those little goats just wasn’t something he could stand. Chickens was another wine mishap. They’re so tiny and cute. He did draw the line with pigs, they are one baby animal that Sean can say no to. 

They smell bad.

Well, so does Grey. All the goats smell bad. Farms smell bad. 

“I thought Wilkens said he was like fourteen,” Sean asks. He thought goats only lived to about thirteen or fifteen, Grey has to be seventeen by now. 

Aaron’s reply is another soft corner smile, just the top of his lips curling up into an almost smile. His eyes are closed, breathing slow and calm. He’s easy in a way that Sean hasn’t seen before. Not since before. Sean’s seen him sleep and it’s fitful, full of disgruntled noises and twitching. But Aaron’s calm, his vigilance melted down. 

Sean looks up as Jessica comes into the room, her face betrays the rest of her calm demeanor. She smiles, tight and wrong, at Sean. “Can you go grab us something to drink? I want a coke but I think they only have that down in the cafeteria.” Her arms are already crossed, and her eyes are pinched up. That hellfire is about to start coming down, soot and ash going to follow soon after, and Sean gratefully takes his out. He has no idea what the doctor just told her but he’s willing to wait to find out. He’s not sticking around for whatever is about to happen. 

“Alright, cool.” He checks his pocket for his wallet and gives Aaron a stiff nod, all the luck he can wish his brother without breaking the calm and ending up on the receiving end of Jessica’s fury. “You want a grape juice?” he asks Aaron but gets no answer. Just lazy, sleepy eyes that move up from Jessica over to him with a sluggish blink. A yes then, Sean assumes. 

Jessica waits for Sean to leave before she lays into Aaron. She doesn’t bother with sugar coating anything because he already knows what she knows. The doctors told her the same things they told him. His aortic heart valve has stiffened, no longer functioning at its needed capacity. But Aaron has rejected any and all of the doctor’s plans to replace or fix it. No surgery, that’s what Aaron told them. He doesn’t want to fix it. 

“Why don’t you want the surgery?” 

He’s tired. Physically and emotionally. Standing too quickly makes his head spin, his vision gets spotty and his knees give out beneath him. The heat makes his vision swarm, dance around like the Earth is off it’s axis. In the summer he doubles down on the sunglasses and hat, anything to keep the sun out of his eyes. Otherwise, the sunlight and all the movement will have him down on the ground, succumbing to nature. Each morning he has to ease himself out of bed, sit for a moment as his body adjusts to being upright. Some nights he can’t sleep, hearts and lungs are a package deal and he’s never more aware than he’s sitting up in bed trying to pull in enough breath to ease the pain in his chest. 

Everything is a reminder. Crying babies take him back to a time that no longer exists. The very proof that he had a son at all is eradicated from him, from the world. Jack never got a chance to go to school with the other kids that Aaron sees running around town. Every blonde boy and girl serves only as a reminder of what once was, what will never happen. There is nothing but a hole in Aaron. A broken heart where a child once was. 

He never got the chance to be a father. He wasted the early years and fucked up what he did have clouding it with his work. What childhood did Jack have? Raised by a single mother and an absent father. 

Aaron was a father. Was. And he was a shitty one. 

How does he move on from that?

“You’ll die.” Jessica pleads, “if you don’t let them fix it, you’ll die.” 

He’s exhausted and no surgery can fix the mess that goes on inside his head. Or the one that erodes his heart down to the necrotic fibers that are left. “I’m tired,” he whispers. He wishes he could offer her more. Be someone different. They want him to be. Sean wants him to be someone else, and picks fights in the hopes that Aaron returns to his dutiful self. Lays into him about being drunk or high but Aaron never does. Sean just has these arguments for himself, and fills Aaron’s mouth with the words he wants to hear. He knows they see things that they want to be there. 

Through her anger, tears fall. Hot angry tears burn her face as they fall. “So am I, Aaron.” She comes to the bed, and takes his hand again. His fingers are cold and she squeezes them gently. “It’s one surgery. The odds are in your favor, they think they can go in–”

This hurts too. Everything hurts. “I can’t.”

“You can.” It’s that simple. Just a surgery. Once. Once, that’s all she’s asking. “Please, Aaron.” 

He was a shitty father and he’s been an even incrediably worse brother and friend. This is the only right that he can offer. Let Jessica and Sean return to their lives, just as he released the team. The path of least resistance. “No.”

___________________

“Wait.” Spencer finally speaks up from the backseat, he’d been too engrossed in someone actually being interested in his maps for him to listen to the conversation happening in the front seat. “Emily is going to fire us!?” He’d looked up from his maps, going to warn Derek of an intersection coming up, when he heard what they were actually talking about. No one said anything about getting fired. Derek mentioned this was on the “down-low” – which he did have to explain but Reid understands now that just means no one else can know. Why he didn’t just say that is beyond Spencer’s understanding. And until this very moment, Spencer thought they were on a welcomed adventure. Something Hotch had given the okay for, that Emily knew they were doing, that wouldn’t end in them being fired. 

Derek glances in the rear view mirror, almost having forgotten Spencer was back there. “What?” he asks before he shakes his head. “No, kid, focus on your map.” Penelope is freaking out. A little bit. She can find another job but what if she doesn’t find Hotch? What if she looses her job and then she doesn’t even have Hotch to show for it? 

Penelope lowers her voice to stage whisper, “but what if she does?”

Derek huffs, as a reply, focused on turning off the road. “She won’t,” he promises. Emily runs a tight ship, Hotch would be impressed, but he’d be disappointed too. Derek’s never mentioned it. He and Emily have talked about her getting the job and him being passed up. There are no hard feelings there. But he doesn’t tell her what he thinks, what he knows. Hotch was right to do what he did. He was just a little too late. Leaving Emily was supposed to fill that gap and she fits best in the hole he left. But she re-shaped herself. Molded herself, just like Hotch did, to fit the job. The team isn’t in chaos but Emily is dying a little bit, suffering and isolated just like Hotch. 

And Hotch wouldn’t have wanted that.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid #david rossi #criminal minds fanfiction #jennifer jareau #jack hotchner #haley hotchner #haley brooks #jessica brooks #sean hotchner #penelope garcia

[theodorevg923]

❤ Valentine's Day Leftovers ❤

Part 2 (Part 1) (Master List)

Monty 🐊 x Y/N (they/them)

Author here! This is my first time writing anything so if I'm a bit slow and clumsy at times, I'm truly sorry. Please forgive my writing and spelling mistakes.

This story blew up alot more that I thought it would! Also it took it's own direction so there will more parts! YAY! Though, this is a side project. So I may not update daily on this.

Now on AO3!

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ 18 + ONLY Little bit of blood and wounds. Suicide attempt mentioned. Rape is implied. Slut is used as a gender neutral term. (I couldn't find a better word atm.)

________

(Y/N) returned to work a few days later. A note on the door of the Pizzaplex stopped them. 'Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for visiting Fazbear Entertainment Pizzaplex. Freddy and the gang are tired but they will be back again in a few days. We are currently closed for scheduled maintenance. Come see us again soon.'

They sighed, not wanting to bother anyone, deciding to walk to the back of the Pizzaplex to an employees only door. They scanned their security badge to enter. Once inside quickly made the way down to Parts and Service to clock in.

After a while of repairing bots, they grabbed a box filled with broken parts and headed to a storage room. Just outside the doors to the main repair shop, Monty was standing around looking lost.

"Monty? I didn't know you were on the schedule tonight for maintenance." The massive gator snapped his head their way. He walked over to (Y/N), grumbled too quiet for them to make it out.

Grabbing the box out of (Y/N)'s arms, he looked away. "Where do ya need to take this?"

(Y/N) frowned to themselves. Monty didn't know what they did to themselves, did he? "Last storage room on the left."

Monty turned quickly, storming off to the storage room. (Y/N) did their best to quickly catch up, the wounds on their legs searing in pain from the movement. Once they reached the room, both stopped and stared at the shattered door. What the? What happened after they passed out? No matter how hard they tried, all they could remember were hisses, growls, and massive cold arms in the darkness.

Monty stormed forward, stepping on the remains of the door and dropped the box onto the first empty shelf. He turned making a quick escape from the room.

Oh no, it couldn't have been him. A soft whine escapes from (Y/N). They hoped the gator hadn't heard, but he did. The gator snapped, frustration overwhelming his system. He picks up (Y/N), throwing them over his shoulder, quickly retreating from the basement. They start to thrash on the gators shoulder, but the tight grip doesn't loosen. Exhaustion seeps into their bones, the past few days truly catching up to them.

(Y/N) sobs as the gator finally makes it to his room. He slowly releases his grip, sitting them on the shredded couch. He kneels down before them, clawed hands hover over their face for a moment before pulling back.

"Want to talk, firefly?" Monty whispers softly, scared they'll run away. (Y/N) shakes their head, scared of angering the towering gator before them. Why was he acting like this? Had he been the one to find them? They were told Roxy was, not Monty. But the look in the gators eyes told a different story.

(Y/N) felt the crushing weight hit them, tears poured out, sobs wracked their chest. They trembled, covering their face with their hands. The pain medicine the doctors gave them had begun to wear off. Even after a few days, they still felt the soreness in their privates, the aching bruises and cuts all over their body.

They felt cold hands touch theirs, softly pulling their hands away from the face. "Come 'ere. I'll keep ya safe. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to save you." Monty whispered softly, pulling (Y/N) into his lap. He didn't know what to do, but seeing them cry hurt him deeply. He hadn't felt this pain since he lost Bonnie. He cradled them softly, worried they would shatter in his arms.

Sortly after, (Y/N) drifted off into sleep. Anger boiled up as Monty's dark thoughts slunk around in his mind. Who had hurt them? He needed to know. He wanted to force the same pain onto attacker. He wanted, needed, to protect the small firefly in his arms. Make it so nothing could ever happen again.

He had thought long and hard for a few days straight, only breaking to recharge. Had researched what could've caused the marks on their body. Finally knew why he went feral, but he could not tell them or anyone else. Could he? No, not yet, they were still in so much pain. But he would wait. Stay by their side every moment he could.

A whimper from (Y/N) snapped Monty back to the present, hours had passed with him lost in his thoughts. They sat up groggily, running a hand through their hair. He held himself completely still, unsure what to do.

"What time is it?" (Y/N) yawns, beginning to stretch out before wincing the from pain.

"Just after 10 in the morning." Monty growls slightly, they would have to leave. Unless he got them to stay.

(Y/N) stared at the ground, digging their nails into their legs to divert the pain. Why was Monty acting this way? They only ever saw the fuckboy and bratty side to him. Never even thought it was possible for him to have a soft side to him, unless. No, he couldn't have, wasn't him. Was it? Fuck it, they had to know.

"Was-"

"Would-"

Both Monty and (Y/N) start speaking at the same time. "Go ahead, firefly."

Firefly? Since when did Monty have such sweet nicknames? They would unbox that later. "Was it really you? Were you the one to find me? They told me it was Roxy but the way you've been acting, came to find me, says otherwise. I'm not mad, just curious. And I'm sorry, really sorry you had to see me like that. I thought I locked the door. I wasn't supposed to be found, I'm not supposed to be alive..." Their ramblings turned to hushed whispers, barely audible. Tears pricked at their eyes. They fucked up big time. Should've shoved heavy boxes against the door. Something, anything to keep the door closed. They wanted to die, still do even now. They put everyone through so much worry, they didn't mean to.

Arms wrapped around (Y/N), squeezing gently, pulling them from their darkening thoughts. "Stay with me, please." Monty rested his head ontop of theirs. His voice box vibrating softly into their mind.

Why would someone, much less Monty, want them to stay. They were tarnished, branded a slut for the world to see. No one would ever want them again. Hell they didn't even report the abuse to the doctors. They checked out from the hospital as soon as they could. They covered their eyes, feeling the tears start again.

Massive clawed hands grabs theirs gently, pulling them away. "If you need to let out the anger, you could help me destroy my room. I'll take the blame for it." Monty's grin soaked his words.

They scoffed, rolling their eyes. Yea it would be nice, but they would be the ones to clean up the mess. But the distraction worked. They stood up, getting out of Monty's lap to stretch. "How about some food instead. I'm starving right now."

Monty grins wider, standing up and opens the door to his room. Which thankfully had been repaired the day before. "After you, what do ya wanna start with? El Chips or Pizza?"

(Y/N) smiles, Monty's enthusiasm rubbing off onto them. Why not just live for today, it may not last forever, or end in a heartbreak. But just for today, they would let free.

They grabbed Monty's hand, dragging him to the nearest pizzeria. "Pizza sounds good." They dropped his hand, running ahead. "I'll race you there."

Monty scoffs watching (Y/N) race ahead. He picks up his pace, charging nearly full speed to catch up. He jumps over a few dining tables, reaching the double doors to the kitchen of the pizzeria ahead of (Y/N). He laughs, deep and hearty. "Almost had me beat!"

(Y/N) laughs with, stepping around the gator and walks through the double doors. "I win!"

Monty turns around quickly, slamming the doors open. He growls walking up to them, he quickly grabs them in a hug, his tail wagging behind him. "Cheater."

They laugh again, hugging the towering gator back. Surprisingly they felt safe in his arms. They let go and turn around to start making pizzas. "What kind of toppings do you want? If you want one that is."

The gator shakes his head, grinning widely, his sharp teeth showing through. "Chica's the only one who eats out of the four of us. Thank ya for offerin' firely."

(Y/N) starts making just one pizza for themselves, then thought better of it and made a second. They knew the moment the smell of pizza wafted through the Pizzaplex who would come running.

The timer on the pizzas went off, (Y/N) was washing the dishes they had used. Monty pulled away from the counter he had been leaning against. Just as he set the first pizza on the counter, the doors to the kitchen slammed open.

Chica, wearing a baby pink leotard and deep pink sweatpants stood in the doorway. "PIZZA!" She rushed forward to grab it.

Monty's hand was shoved in her face, holding her back. "Not your's. It's (Y/N)'s pizza." He growls at Chica, still holding her back.

The white chicken whines, nearly foaming at the mouth staring at the hot pie on the counter. "Just a slice?"

(Y/N) laughs, startling Chica, stepping around Monty to pull a second pizza out of the oven. "Don't worry, I made a second one just for you."

Chica steps back, glancing between the pizza, (Y/N), and Monty. She looks at the bandages covering their skin. "Are you alright sweetie? We were all really worried about you. Freddy and Roxy want to see you when you are up for it."

(Y/N) nods slowly, setting the second pizza on the counter, then grabs the cutter to slice the pizzas up. "Yea I'm alright. After I eat, I'll go see them." Their smile drops slightly, Monty growls at the sight.

He hovers over (Y/N), suddenly very territorial. "Ya don't have to if ya dont want to."

They shake their head, sliding Chica's pizza in her direction. Then picks up a piece of their own, taking a bite before shaking their head. "Nah, I really should atleast let them know I'm ok now. If you'll come with me, please?"

The look (Y/N) gives him causes him to cave in. "Fine, eat first then I'll take ya to 'em."

(Y/N) smiles softly. "Thank you." Silence prevailed as they ate their pizza. Why was Monty acting like this?  They knew the animatronics had an Ai that could go and learn. But that's all it was right? They couldn't learn to love, could they? Besides if they told Monty what really happened that night. Not even an animatronic would ever want them again. Right?

________

Posted Feb 16 2022

#fnaf fandom #fnaf #fnaf monty gator #monty gator #fnaf monty #fnaf montgomery #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #security breach #fnaf x reader #monty gator x reader #glamrock monty #glamrock chica #security breach x reader #x reader #fnaf x y/n #fnaf security breach fanart #theodore923

[minshookie]

Pillow Fight.

Pairing |Bully!Jungkook x reader

Genre | smut, angst.

Summary | “Another day spent babysitting your bully’s little sister...you should really quit but the pay is just too good.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language, bullying, mentioned sexual acts, mentions of past bullying, NON-CON,financial struggle, Jungkook is a really shitty big brother.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 1k.

A/N: I rewrote this so many times! Lmfaoo! Buuut get ready because some of requests yall sent in are 🥵🥵.

“Orange is your best color.” Aera chirped dragging the paint drowned brush along your pinky nail. “I think you’re just saying that because it’s your favorite.” The young girl giggles continuing to color your fingertips. “Uhm are you staying all night miss y/n?” Nodding you brushed back her wild strands of hair softly with your free hand. “Soooo like a sleep over?!” She squeals closing the bottle of nail polish, her eyes glittering as she gazes into yours intent for answers. “Yeah!” You matching her energy only made her more excited, “yay! And-and can Jungkookie Oppa come?!” She bounced on her knees smiling ear to ear, fumbling over her words.

“Oh...Jungkook huh... Hmm what about no boys aloud?” You planted the idea praying she’d take the bait as you started cleaning her toy makeup, giving her a chance to think it over.

“What? Jungkook isn’t a boy, he’s my brother!” Giggling she pounced from the couch striding towards his room. At this point all you could do is laugh at her innocent lack of logic. She looks so happy who are you to burst her little bubble, for all you know Jungkook might want nothing to do with the both of you and your little mock slumber party.

Closing the toy purse you hid it back away in the large toy chest she pulled from her room, leaving it open you cleared the floor of the multicolored blocks and dolls. A whisper of a laugh escapes your lips as you overhear Aera’s begs and pleas mixed with Jungkook’s refusals....but finally the door creaks.

Please no. “Y/n, guess what?!” She drags your name out as her small foot steps pitter the floor, Jungkook’s thudding. She comes down the hall pulling Jungkook by his middle finger. “As if you weren’t undesirable enough, neon nails really helped it out.” Grumbling he throws himself on the couch you just tidied up. “Nice to see you again too Kook.”Aera bounced on her toes watching us have confrontation, unaware of the negative connotations.

Truth is you hadn’t seen Jungkook since you left for college and you hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again...that is until relationships fell apart, your roommate left and things got hard to pay for, and you were two bills away from being homeless. the job up at university paid $9.50 an hour while the busy Jeons still offered $12.00 the choice was clear. Take a little break, live with family, get back on your feet, and try again. But little did you know Jungkook decided to stay local with his schooling.All this aside the work was easy since Aera had grown a bit, but the thought of dealing with the person that made your life hell for four years made you want to quit daily.

“Can I do your nails Too?!” “No Aera, now be cute and get me something to drink.” He orders putting his feet on the coffee table eyeing you up and down,disgustingly. “No Aera I’ll get it.” You grabbed her shoulder. “No y/n! I’ll do it, I’ll do it quickly!” Setting free she bolted for the kitchen.

“So, you went to college got broke and came back sniveling to my rich parents?” You rolled your eyes, looking in the direction of the kitchen for any sign of Aera. “I thought you would’ve out grown your asshole phase, that’s very high school of you Kook.” He scoffed defensively, “and you using babysitting as your main income is high school of you, what happened your little rapper boyfriend leave you high and dry?” “You shut the fuck up.” You snapped back my reflex. He held his hands up in defense, “Suga blew up and left you in the shit show not my fault.” We argued in hushed tones as Aera ran back into sight.

“Here you go kookie!” She handed Jungkook the can of Coke, heaving for air. “Aera this is warm, cold...I want something cold, go try again.” He handed her the can, “oh okay Oppa sorry!” And off she was back down the hall. He turned back to me, “why’d he leave you...couldn’t make him bust?” you tried to hide it but his words stung, you’d been avoiding anything to do with Yoongi since he’d ghosted you weeks before you left for college. Bigger things waited for him in the world of fame, and you weren’t in the blueprint.

“Fuck you Jungkook.” “Come try it bitch.” Smirking he was satisfied with himself as you stood almost defeated. “Oh I forgot you’re scared of sex.” “Leave the high school rumors behind...ran out a material? Maybe you should get out more.” He rolled his eyes scoffing, “shut up before I make you.” “You like to pretend I’m still afraid you...make me, little boy...since you insist on being one.”

Jungkook’s come back was cut short by the thumping of Aera’s feet. “Kookie!Kookie! Ice! I got it all by myself!” She gave the cup of ice to Jungkook and then the Coke. “Good job, now pour it.” He handed them back and you took it from her small clutches much to Jungkook’s disliking. You poured him the drink, pushing his feet off the small table and placing the glass. “She’s not your little slave Jungkook.” He kept eye contact picking up the glass, “you’re right she’s not, you...go get me a coaster now or you’re fired.” His eyebrow arched cockily, his free hand waving you away. “As if! You can’t fire me Jungkook.” He got Aera sitting her on the couch beside him as she caught her breath. “Is that so? Try me, my parents might have hired you but you work for us...now work.” His gaze alone told you he wasn’t playing with you anymore.

Angered you stormed to kitchen pulling a coaster from the table before swiftly Turing on your heels, almost jumping out of you skin as you met face to face with Jungkook. “What the fuck do you want now?” “You said some shit I didn’t like.” You threw the coaster back on the marbled table, “I wish you’d grow up already.” You atempt to go past him but his muscular arm halts your plans. “I have to go do my job-” “I put on her show she’ll be good for the next hour.”

You don’t remember Jungkook being so brooding he looked down at you, his new tall posture slightly off putting yet attractive. “What now, you wanna talk it out?” You walked away siting at the island, “I’ll leave you be if you leave me to do my job Kook.” He came behind you, trapping you in his arms. Tattoos, he’d change a lot but not enough to leave you alone.

“I see you came and got the coaster, scared of me now?” What an ass, “no I need this job.” He hummed from behind you, no sign of him letting you go. “You know y/n, you’ve grown quite a bit.” You became more and more uncomfortable by the second, his breathing became deeper. “I’m aware, so have you.” Rudely he became handsy, groping your breast earning a shocked reaction. “Jungkook please-” “scared of me?” He squeezed you with a little too much force making you give a Yelp, he had you trapped, you were nothing but a game to him. “Shhh shh don’t want to startle my baby sister while she rests...that wouldn’t be very babysitter like of you now would it?”

Silent what could you even say? He had you trapped, your position less than hopeless he’d made you feel small and that’s exactly what he wanted. He’s always wanted that ever since you’d met him, and he always succeeds. He intruded under your top, skating his chilled hand over your skin leaving cold bumps in his wake he held your bra covered breast.

You griped his unexposed wrist trying at escape, knowing fully how downhill this could get. “Oh is the brave girl afraid?” “N-no your hands are cold as Ice Jungkook...please stop.” You lied continuing to push his muscular arm. “Oh? Let me warm them for you.” He removed his hand from the island almost causing you to topple over. Reaching down he found himself with his hand now between your legs fiddling with the pant button. “Jungkook! Please no!” His hand along your chest he pulled you back into his sculpted figure.

“You must not value your job as much as you say, scream again and you’ll be broke and fucked over and to think I actually liked you a bit.” He came to your ear, sniffing your hair eerily. “Little did I know how much of a bitch you were, I loved you when you were shy.” He finally got through your button, getting to your panties he gave you a two fingered massage along your core, you strained not to react to the unwanted pleasure. “Look at you pathetic and wet I bet you’re so needy I could make you cum right here.” He began to focus his nimble fingers on your aching clit. “Fucking stop it.” You could only whimper. “Why should I, we’re old enough now and you’re sopping through your panties I know you want it.”

He invaded under your bra, fondling your hardening bud. “I loved you when you were weak and innocent...I know she’s hiding deep inside of you, the little girl that would cry over me-”

“Miss y/n! I’m tired!” Her voice softly called from the living room. Saved by an angel, finally Jungkook stoped his assault backing off of you with a groan. “You’ll meet me in my room when she’s in bed, or else.” He grumbled leaving you behind to collect yourself, how could bad get so much worse?

#bts smut #bts angst #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts yandere #dark!bts #jungkook #yandere bts #min yoongi #yandere masterlist #yandere!jungkook #dark!bts x you #dark!jungkook #bully!jungkook #bully!bts #yandere!bts x you. #bts x reader #bts x you #bts headcanons #yandere yoongi #Yoongi #hobi #Jin #Joon #Jimin #taehyung #guk jeonjungkook #guk

[parkers-gal]

yay! okay so I was thinking, what I'd the reader and Tom had a fight, could be over anything, but the reader was pregnant and a few years after, they bump into each other and they get back together. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

this has been sitting in my inbox for a fat couple of months… sorry 😭

wc: 1.7k ! <3

—

“No, because you’re selfish and you can’t handle the fact that my life doesn’t revolve around you and your needs.” Tom spits out the words angrily, viciously, voice harsh and crisp.

You’re both frustrated beyond belief, and the bubble that had been overblown had finally popped, splattering your relationship and all the joyful aspects of it. Right now, you felt as if all that was left was the toxicity of two unbearable people who happened to love each other. You knew, deep down, that you loved each other enough to get through this, but with every passing moment, with every exchanged word, you realized at least one of you wouldn’t survive the damage.

“No, Tom. You’re selfish. You’re conceited and you only care about being a goddamn movie star. What happened to the family man, huh? What happened to staying tied down with me and your brothers?”

“Nothing happened to him! I’m still that person. I am a family guy.”

“Not to me, you aren't.”

“Well you’re not family!” He seethes through his teeth, anger radiating off of his short-tempered demeanor. You don’t even know how to react, so you spend the time soaking in the situation and how you should respond instead of actually doing it.

“You’re a fucking jackass. I asked when I could spend time with you and now you don’t even consider me as part of the family.”

“No,” He’s clear and concise even through the anger. “You asked when I’m going to stop living my life.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You didn’t have to! We both know that’s what you meant.”

“You’re not even on the same page as me anymore,” You scoff, arms crossing. “Seems like all this time in Hollywood made you forget that you’re not always the main character.”

“Fuck that, Y/N! Fuck! That!”

“No, Tom. Fuck. You.” You over-express your emotions, and after two more minutes of unbearable silence and screaming, he’s leaving your apartment just as fast as he arrived. You’re in shock, fingers shaking while you clear your throat, which is frayed and sore from all the yelling.

You sit back, elbows on your knees while your hands smoothen out your forehead. Tear after tear escapes your sobbing body, and eventually, you fall asleep on the couch.

In the weeks to come, you’ve realized the blow-out of a breakup could’ve been handled so much differently, but Tom hasn’t seemed to cool down at all — he’s petty enough to unfollow you on all social media, and you figure it’s time to let the hatred be mutual. You don’t touch your imessages, however, letting the love in those texts linger for a little longer.

Before you know it, you’re throwing up into the toilet boil, coughing violently at the action and spitting the bitter taste as best you can. You clean up, and when you check your phone, a small notification from your period tracker app alerts you that this is the second period in a row that has gone by without a hello.

Worried, you call Aisha, your closest friend and confidant. She’s over in no time, bringing along her girlfriend while you rant on the phone about your worries. They stop at the drugstore on the way.

The cause of your problems is discovered that day, and you collapse on the bathroom floor in agony, hands wiping at your face — through all the anger and fear and worry, you still love Tom. So much that Aisha even attempts to call Tom. But, alas, it’s sent straight to voicemail, and you realize he might’ve gone to extreme extents in blocking everyone.

You’re stuck going to the ultrasound with two lesbians and a frail old cat. Aisha is as supportive as ever, but as the doctor explains the process of each option, you feel sicker and sicker about the idea of getting rid of the fetus. In the end, you choose to keep the child you’re bearing, even if your ex-lover isn’t even in the picture.

Inevitably, the months pass, and as baby Charlie is brought into the wonderful world, you realize life as a single mother isn’t as scary as you thought it would be. In the first few months of your pregnancy, you’d kept tabs on what film Tom was doing and which was coming out next, but after the hormones and cravings, you’d decided to let the past sizzle and fade out in the way it was meant to all along.

It’s been almost three years since that fateful breakup, and Charlie is just reaching two and a half years old. You’re still single, and you’re okay with that. Charlie is all you need, all you’ve ever wanted, and the most important thing in your life. He’s young, and school is still a couple years away, but you enjoy having the toddler by your side, walking hand in hand with you because you’re his guardian, his provider, his only parent. You make him your only priority, because you don’t want him to grow up without anyone to love, or anyone to love him.

It’s hard, though. It’s hard because he’s a constant reminder of what didn’t happen, a constant reminder of what went wrong and of what you no longer have. You miss Tom more than words can express, and Charlie’s mop of brown curls reminds you of all the moments you’d run your fingers through Tom’s hair. You reminisce more than you’d like to, about Tom and your past, and though Charlie is technically half of the Brit, he’s one hundred percent yours. Because you’re the only one here, and that’s alright.

“Mummy,” Charlie tugs on your shirt’s hem while you move the shopping cart forward through the aisle. “Can we get the goldfish with superheroes?”

You jutt your lip out in a smile, nodding happily. “Of course we can, bub.”

As you step forward, you pit stop in the aisle, nearly tripping on the cart. You make direct eye contact with the man you used to love with your entire heart. The man who walked out with your heart and never gave it back. He’s staring right back at you, curls looking as fluffy as ever, face still a soft glow. Your breath hitches, and it’s then that you realize Charlie is still talking.

“Mummy?” He asks, and it’s just loud enough for Tom to hear. Harry, who’s beside Tom with an arm full of crackers and chips. Tom moves forward a few steps, hastily in an attempt to get more information.

“Uh, hi,” His smile is tight lipped as he stands at the other end of your shopping cart. Charlie shies away from strangers, standing behind your leg and holding your shirt with his grubby hands.

“Hi,” you return his awkward, reserved demeanor.

“Mummy who’s this?”

“‘Mummy?’” Tom has a follow up question for everything, and you internally panic, unsure on how to approach this.

You’d spent so long deciding how you should tell Tom that he was a dad. You spent hours debating on if you should pick up the phone or drive over just to tell him a truth you’ve kept inside for so long. You’ve abandoned social media, only sharing aspects of your life you can afford to post. Charlie is only occasionally on your page, but it’s not like Tom would see that, not after all that’s happened.

Your mouth opens and closes while you debate on how to reply. You’re physically incapable of saying your response, and it makes you even more nervous. You’re nervous on how he might react, what he’ll say, but most importantly, if he’ll stay.

“Is this…?

“My kid…” You fill in. “I- I mean our… our kid.” You pull your bottom lip between your rows of teeth, and you watch as Tom’s face undergoes thousands of expressions all at once. He’s surprised, shocked, happy, afraid, uncertain. You want the world to swallow you whole, suck you up so you don’t have to go through any of this again. But you don’t. Instead, you hold Charlie’s hand a little tighter.

“Our kid?” He drops a can of soup and you flinch at the loud noise.

“Mummy, who’s that?”

“That’s…” You don’t know how to answer his question. Instead, you lean down to his level, comfortingly and gently. “He’s a man.”

“Who’s that man?”

“He’s… your daddy.”

“I thought… no daddy?”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows. Tom’s watching the entire encounter from his place, but after a few beats, he steps forward, entering your bubble. Charlie doesn’t cower away this time, but looks up in curiosity.

“Hi, Charlie,” Tom extends his hand, adjusting his jeans so he can lean down just as you are, kneeling beside the young boy.

You look down, avoiding your worries and Tom’s gaze. He’s tearing up, and you want to cry too. You’re in a fucking supermarket, for god’s sake. This wasn’t how you envisioned any of this planning out, and though you’re mentally kicking yourself for letting it happen this way, you can’t help but feel like maybe this was meant to be. Written in the stars or whatever the folks say — you’re just grateful Charlie has at least a sliver of hope for two parents. Not that you can’t handle it, because you can, but you know someone like Tom wouldn’t want to miss something as important as this.

“I’m To- I’m…” He swallows thickly, making brief eye contact with you before looking back at Charlie. “I’m your dad.”

“Do you love my mummy?” He’s not shameless, but he’s still that shy little boy. “My friend says daddy’s love mommy’s so you must love mine, right?”

Tom lets a tear fall while he exhales a chuckle. He swipes the drop with the tips of his fingers, and the hand gripping Charlie’s squeezes it a little tighter. A glance in your direction is all it takes for him to answer Charlie’s question. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”

want more? my masterlist.

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[beskarberry]

The Roar of Thunder

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 12, Book Two Finale

(The Mandalorian x f!reader) (+18)

He couldn’t console Grogu, or even get him to eat most days, and that made him just as worthless as Imp scum. The last bounty lay at the end of the wormhole, a pathetic bail jumper that should take no time at all to capture, and once that was complete and the credits collected maybe…

Maybe he should take Grogu home.

<- Previous

Rating: Extra Explicit

Word count: 24.2k SORRY

Content warnings: *deep breath* Dark themes, self loathing, depression, thoughts of suicide, implied parental abuse, drug induced abductions, use of needles, auditory and visual hallucinations, extremely graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, stupid amounts of murder. Oh, and smut! Yay!

A/N: THE EPIC CONCLUSION (???) OF BARGAINING WITH BESKAR! Holy shit I can't believe we've made it this far! I know those tags are super fucking intimidating but there is a light at the end of this tunnel, it's just a very long, dark ass tunnel and you're gonna have to work to get there! THANK YOU ALL so much for joining me on this wildass ride that I already said I was finished with once before lol. There's a lot that I'm leaving off with so there's a very good chance I'll come back to this story in the future, but for now, enjoy!

The Crest had been silent before, for years actually, but never like this.

When it had only been him aboard the old gunship, long before the child and much longer before you, silence had been the Mandalorian’s only companion. In the wake of betrayal, the eerie quiet of hyperspace had returned like a plague; creeping in on innumerable, chitinous legs through the Razor’s solid walls, taking up space like something alive.

Or maybe something dead.

Silence was heavy, viscous and rotting in Mando’s ears. It slithered through his ear canals and down his throat, seeping over his heart like melted tar. It hurt, the silence. Somehow both burning like acid and freezing like ice in his chest and it hurt. It made his bones ache. It made his ears ring in place of the lack of noise, the lack of life and love that he had grown so fond of.

But the silence was better, a hundred, thousand times better than the crying.

Grogu wailed whenever he was awake, sobbing and choking on the tears that streaked down from his cosmic eyes and stopped up his teensy tinsey nose with snot. The little terror never made so much noise in all his life, and he would frequently cry so hard he would tire himself out and fall into a fretful, restless sleep. Din would try everything he could think of, holding the baby, rocking him and shushing him as sweetly as a mountain of metal could; but the child only cried harder for his efforts.

The child wouldn’t eat, barely slept, and wept relentlessly. Din’s shattered heart broke a thousand more times with each fitful sob that tore it’s way out of the tiny toothy mouth of his adopted son, and every day that it continued he thought the agony would kill him.

He knew why Grogu was so heartbroken, though he refused to accept it, still tasting the bitterness of betrayal on his tongue. Dirty Imp. He wanted to be so angry, he still was, but the exhaustion of trying to comfort his son drained every ounce of fight from the mighty warrior’s body. Din’s decision was final, even if it was starting to feel like the worst decision he’d ever made in his entire life. He wasn’t going to let any goddamn Imps near his son, no matter how lovely they were, how beautiful… how wonderful.

Grogu was just going to have to get over it.

But...what if he never does?

Din was cradling the child against his bare shoulder, trying, and failing, for the thousandth time that week to get Grogu to calm down. The Mandalorian rocked slowly, holding the child’s head to his shoulder and petting him softly, running his thumbs over his ears in the way that used to make the little beastie coo and hum. Made him close his eyes and sleep. If… if he could just get the child to sleep, to relax, maybe he could think straight.

When she was here, what would she do? Din didn’t want to think about the monster that he had let into his life, let into his heart, but he couldn’t stop the train of thought as it left his mental station. She would sing. She would sing him a lullaby and he would conk right out. They were his favorite. He groaned, blinking up at the hazy cabin lights as if the Maker was up there with better answers.

They were my favorite, too.

Din sighed heavily against the weeping creature he loved so dearly, then started to hum one of the songs he thought he remembered. Low and slow, a deep, rumbling baritone that once was as warm as honey, but now felt cold, lifeless and dull.

There was the briefest of respites in the child’s crying, only to pick back up with a vengeance at the memory of his lost buir’s lullabies. Assaulted by the uptick in the wailing, Din wracked his brain for the words to those songs. Stars, there were so many, but there was one that sort of… stuck.

“Hey, womp rat, let me see you.” Din pulled the soggy baby from his shoulder, fishing the edge of his cloak around to wipe the child’s flooded eyes. “There he is. Um, how does it go… I have sailed the… no that’s not… I went sailing in the midnight sea, something something…navigator... wait, please don’t cry. Fuck.”

Singing wasn’t one of his strong points, no matter how many times you had told him he had a lovely voice, soft and dark and velvety. No, it was you whose voice was spun from gold, not his. You had brought music into his world, that very first day, sitting in the passenger seat with the child in your lap you had broken into a star-shanty that dissolved every barrier the Mandalorian had erected around his heart and sang love into his world.

Your voice wasn’t just powerful, it was a siege weapon.

Nothing had ever had that kind of power over him, made him want to rip his helmet from his skull and throw it overboard just to hear your voice as it was meant to be heard in all its glory. And then when he had gotten to hear it clear and true, without the modulation of his audio intake processors, he knew he would never hear anything more beautiful again in his entire life.

His Starsong.

Din tried to bring himself back to the very first song, something about a navigator, guiding a mighty ship through the stars. So long ago, when Grogu had fallen asleep from your lullaby and you were just humming the last verses, you had caught Din staring at you and abruptly cut the song short; thinking that the Mandalorian was ready to slit your throat for being so close to his precious cargo. It wasn’t until later, after a victorious but near-fatal hunt that you had been asked to finish it.

You were cradled against his side, tucked into the crook of his arm with your head on his chest, tired and breathless from critical bloodloss and a foolish bout of lovemaking. You had nearly died, and his son had saved your life, given you back to him like a precious keepsake. Din had felt your breathing slow way down, watched your eyes close from behind his visor, and suddenly he just had to know.

How does the song end?

Mmm? Why, do you need a lullaby too?

No, just curious. When you leave, my foundling might ask me about it.

Din stopped rocking the child, struck fast by the memory. Grogu was starting to tire himself out, but the tears still flowed, dampening the flack under his squishy baby face.

When you leave.

He had made a deal with you, one hunt and you were off the hook, spared from carbonite and the Guild’s vengeance; but everything about you enchanted him so much that he nearly broke his own Creed just to feel your body against his, feel your lips on his face, your hands in his hair. Even before he heard your singing his ears had fallen in love with your voice. Maker, the sounds that you had made; the soft little pants, the choked cries, the moans. He had to have you.

He had to hear you.

Ensorcelled by your siren tongue he took you for himself, gave himself to you in the sacred way his Creed demanded should have come after riduurok, but he didn’t care. The first time he filled you was heaven, an addiction more fixing than spice. In that moment he was too far gone to try to explain to you that The Way dictated he was bound to you now as your protector, but would have understood if you had told him no. Told him to leave you alone, let you get back to your life. But you had only sunk your claws deeper, given yourself more, entwining yourself with him more closely than the beskar that had been forged around him.

When you leave.

You’d become protective and caring and dangerous, a weaponized testament to the love you’d grown for your two boys. You hunted with the fury of thunderstorms, defended your kin with your own life, loved them like no one else ever had and it was beautiful. Din’s foundling became your foundling, and soon you’d become the foundling’s buir, bound to his little clan by the sacred ceremony of riddurok. Indivisible, inseparable. A pack, a clan, a family.

A lie.

A dirty, filthy, soul crushing lie.

A fucking Imp had been right under his nose, in his fucking bed, whispering in his ear that he was loved, that he meant something. Anger burned behind his eyes at the memories that he once cherished, making their corners sting. Grogu picked up on it instantly, his almost-closed eyes flying back open with another shriek. Din gave up. He couldn’t take it anymore. The child was gently lowered to his pram, still sniveling but at least tired enough that maybe he would fall asleep soon.

With squinty, flooded eyes the baby glared up at his adopted father, his ears nearly falling off his head with how droopy they were. He sank his adorable little talons into the fabric of Din’s wrist, keeping him hostage so the tiny green terror could break his fathers heart just one more time.

“Bubu?”

“Yes?”

Grogu grumbled with a scowl, looking away from Din’s exhausted face, trying to find somebody else. “Bubu.”

Din had heard the baby use the shorthand of buir for the first time when he was storming up the Crest’s ladder after abandoning you on Elgon Station, hatred and disgust deafening him to the sound of his son's first almost-word. When he was blasting away from the sudden starcruiser, he had heard the baby shouting the sweet phrase over and over and over again, his little voice choked with desperation; and he knew that it wasn’t meant for him.

It was meant for you.

Din shook his head, unhooking Grogu from his sleeve. ”Sorry kid, It’s just me now.” Fighting the mist forming in his eyes, he closed the lid, sealing the pram with an ugly hiss at yet another betrayal. Sorry kid.

For everything.

Exhausted and broken, Din flopped down in the little sleeping nook that he had once shared with you, sinking into the bedroll. The Tatooinian bed roll. You had picked up the soft, plush foam mattress on your shopping excursion through the desert bazaar, spitting fire about the quality of the bed he had grown used to.

It was your bed roll.

Din was too tired to yank the thing off and shred it like he had been meaning to, at least that’s what he had been telling himself for the last few cycles. The reality was that it still smelled faintly of you, a scent that was losing its strength with each passing jump through hyperspace. Sleep made him just as restless as his son usually was now, often waking him up in a flop sweat that was slowly replacing the scent in the mattress with wallowing anguish.

Not even an hour after he had laid down he woke up in one such panic, sweat turning to ice on his brow and down the expanse of his chest, and on instinct he reached for you.

But you weren’t there.

When you leave… her. You left her, Djarin. You left her behind. Left her to die. It’s your own fault.

Agony and despair and guilt were his only bedfellows now, grinding against his ribs and chewing through the lining of his stomach. He reached up for one of the thin, utilitarian blankets that he kept in the mesh netting high above his head, maybe more to wipe the sweat off than for comfort. Comfort had tricked him and told him lies. Comfort had made him weak, made him blind to the insurgence that laid next to him at night. Comfort was not something he deserved.

The threadbare blanket fell down from its spot, bringing something else down with it.

Bantha wool.

Growling, Did made to throw the fleecy thing away, hoping it would take his painful memories with it, but the smell of you was all over it. Strong as if you were right there with him, as if he held you in his arms again.

He stopped fighting, hugging the desert fabric to his chest and burying his face in it, breathing in the scent of you as if without it he would suffocate and die. He held the air in, feeling it flow through the serrated hole where his heart used to be. The breath in his lungs let itself out, ragged and broken and threatening.

Alone in his little bunk, the best hunter in the parsec swallowed his sobs down, terrified of waking the baby. The scent of you brought him back to that moment, the moment that he’d snapped. You’d been trying to tell him something, but he had been consumed by his anger, blinded by his hatred of the Empire and the threat that it posed to his son and the memories of what it had done to his people. The Empire that you served.

His body shook at the memory of your confession, I am not an Imp! That’s not who I am anymore! You’d shouted, no, roared, concealing the usage of some kind of… interference device that must have been hidden on your person. His visor had flickered and his audio processors blew, nearly deafening him with feedback. The damage done to his helmet was extensive, and like nothing he’d ever seen, the wires and microchips crushed by some phantasmal force. It took days for him to repair, but it was a welcome distraction from his painful memories.

That’s not who I am any more.

Din chewed his lip so hard he tasted blood, sucking it back down as not to stain the cherished blanket. Did I make a mistake? No. An Imp doesn’t change its plasticast… does it? Even… even one as strong and beautiful as her. He breathed the scent of you in deep, curling up on his cot until his knees touched the wall, digging up yet another tainted memory.

The memory of him kneeling before you, of him asking for your hand.

You don’t know me! You’d sobbed, waving around a sword of pure beskar inches from his throat. You don’t know where I’ve been, what I’ve done!

You’d told him right then and there that you weren’t to be trusted, but... it was too late.

He was in love.

Bedazzled in a pair of opalized fangs far too lavish for such a warrior, he’d sank to his knees at your feet, asking for your hand, or your judgement.

You may now ask him to swear his oaths, and should they please you, you may remove his helmet. However, should he dishonor you, you may remove his head.

It was almost unfair, such an ultimatum of love or death.

You broke every single vow you swore to her, Djarin. How are you any better than an Imp? She loved you, and you threw her out like garbage. You purged that love from your life, forsaking the one that you called ner jate’kara, your guiding star. Without her, you will die in the darkness that you have brought upon yourself.

Without love there was only death left for him, though there wasn’t a single being in this parsec that would be capable of killing him…

Except-

Himself.

The brakes had long gone out on his mental trains, and horrifying clarity wrenched his eyes open in the darkness of the bunk. Maybe death would feel better than the heartbreak he was suffering from now. Maybe giving himself up to the cold embrace of the void would feel less damning, less crushing.

To leave this universe on his own volition, and not on the valorous battlefield, was considered the lowest form of dishonor a Mandalorian could endure. Dar’manda. But… that’s what he was. An honorless cur, an oathbreaker. Though his bond to you had been rendered completely fucking worthless, he was still bound to the baby as his father.

Though...maybe…

Maybe he shouldn’t be.

He couldn’t console Grogu, or even get him to eat most days, and that made him just as worthless as Imp scum. The last bounty lay at the end of the wormhole, a pathetic bail jumper that should take no time at all to capture, and once that was complete and the credits collected maybe…

Maybe he should take Grogu home.

To his people, his real people like he was supposed to do eons ago.

What is it?

It is a foundling. And by Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father.

Din had taken that last line to heart. The last memory he had of his own father still haunted his nightmares, the image of his parent’s eyes glassy with frightened tears as they closed the bunker door over him right before the droid army took their lives.

Decades later an opportunity had been presented to him, an opportunity to give this child a father to grow up with; though the child would likely live for centuries after Din died from either old age or, more likely, a bullet hole. His unknown people had not been good enough to protect the baby, to keep him out of harm's way and out of the grasp of the Empire, but a Mandalorian would be.

Or, so he had told himself.

Somewhere out in the vastness of space were potentially more little green creatures that were missing one of their own, and he had selfishly stolen Grogu away from them to live out his fantasy of being a father.

No.

It wasn’t right, it hadn’t been from the start.

And now he was being punished for it.

One more hunt, one last credit haul to fuel his ship up, and he would return the baby to his people, giving Grogu’s real parents every cent he had left in the most desperate hope that they would forgive him. Forgive him for stealing a child.

And then.

Then it would be over.

There would be nothing left for him.

As if there was anything left for him now.

~

It took a couple of cycles to convince yourself that it wasn’t a nightmare, and even longer to come to terms with your waking reality. Your wayward journey through the stars was over just as quickly as it had begun, and you were right back at square one where you had started.

Inside of you a dull, constant ache had settled in the spot where your heart used to be, bitter and stinging against the anger that was growing in your ribs and the nausea festering in your guts. You couldn’t close your eyes without seeing the rage-twisted face of the man you had thought you loved, thought you trusted; the image worse than any nightmare. You ran through the scenario over and over and over until it drove you to silent, secretive tears.

Years of learning to track, hunt, and kill quarry was only a blip on your mental radar compared to the memories you had made with the Mandalorian and his son during the short time you had known them. You wanted to remember the good things, like the sweet laughter of the child or even the funny, gross-ish noises that Din made when he ate. Anything but those furious, hateful eyes and bared teeth, but that was all you saw whenever you so much as blinked.

Behind your closed eyes was the face of rage, but when your eyes were open it was even harder to convince yourself this was your reality, because you kept seeing… something. A flicker here, a flash of blue there. The feeling that someone was standing next to you when you were in an empty room, as rare as that was now that you were back under the ever-watchful eye of the Admiral.

Though your eyes were playing tricks on you, that wasn’t the strangest thing you’d noticed about the old dragon. Aside from the Admiral there wasn’t a single member of the skeletal crew that you recognized, though almost all of them wore some form of duraplast covering their faces. Every bilgerat you had grown up with had vanished, as well as most of the officers that you’d actually grown to like, including Chief Wellers, the engineering deck staffed with more droids now than people.

It was strange to say the least, and lonely, being left with only one recognizable face that you loathed. The unfamiliar officers glared at you while you were being led up the Wyvern’s wide entryway days ago, making judgemental passes at your hunt-fucked attire. To better match the remaining crew you were stripped of your gear and weapons and given a fresh, beige-and-black uniform that rode up under your arms and chaffed your thighs. And to add insult to injury you had even been given a stupid little hat to top it off. You hated it, but at least it had pockets. Pockets full of secrets.

Wrapped up in the red silk kerchief that you had stolen on Canto Bight, the pair of beloved fossils weighed heavy against your thigh, a piercing reminder of another life. Why are you keeping them? He left you, dumbass. He’s not coming back. True as that may be, you weren’t ready to let go, the wound was still too fresh, too recent. You missed those strange boys from the stars, and the tiny collection of trinkets was all you had left of a life that had actually meant something to you.

A set of beskar ear cuffs, a red pocket square, and a pair of krayt’s teeth.

An entire lifetime sitting in the palms of your hands.

You had one in your hand now, the opalized bone glittering under fluorescent lights while you used it to pick at the undersides of your nails, the priceless gemstones reduced to cleaning tools. Glancing up at the ship's clock you calculated how long you had before Forescythe would come around to ‘wake you’, as if you’d slept at all in the last three days.

The Wyvern’s Tongue was surprisingly still docked at the station you had been abandoned on, a scorching reminder of your trauma every time you passed a porthole or walked the bridge, stuck to the Admiral’s side like he had you on a leash. It was difficult to tell what they were loading the ship up with, but every time you saw the station you caught another massive skiff-load of something with the word HAZARDOUS in big yellow letters being hauled aboard from one of the other starships that had docked nearby.

You heard footsteps outside your spartan quarters, getting closer then fading away. Stormtrooper. Though you weren’t being kept prisoner, exactly, the constant vigil between the Admiral and the troopers left you little-to-no privacy, with only the smallests gaps in their overlaps. The rotation of the guards through the hallways was militant with its timing, and it wouldn’t be much longer before you had all of their routes memorized.

The long-strided gait of the Admiral echoed far down the hallway, and you snuck your fangs into your pockets so you could make yourself presentable. Oh-seven-hundred, on the dot. Barely a courtesy knock was given before the detestable man was letting himself into your room, running through the day’s itinerary after a hastily given ‘Good morning, Sparrow.’

Sparrow. Your deadname was dropped frequently, scalding your steeled ears each time, though rarely was it said with anything short of admiration. You almost wanted to be scolded, and you should have been for dissenting for as long as you did, but the way the Admiral talked to you was friendly, dangerously friendly; and the sweet-talking only made you resent him more.

“Today is the last day we will be docked at Elgon, we’ve nearly finished loading up on the...supplies, and will be in hyperspace soon. This old girl’s been fitted with an updated hyperdrive, so we’ll make the trip to our destination in good time.” You nodded, avoiding conversation. It was best that you spoke to him as little as possible to perpetuate the lie that you had become tone deaf, and you could tell that it drove him insane. Good, fuck your shit to hell. He gestured for you to follow him on his rounds, walking alongside him like an obedient puppy. “Come along, little bird, there is much for us to do today.”

“Yessir.”

He froze and turned back at you, a pouty face stretched grossly across his gaunt features. “Now now, Sparrow, I know you’re upset that you’re not my comms officer anymore, but you’re home again, you can drop the formalities when we’re in private.” He crossed the short distance to you, placing his hands on your shoulder and digging his thumbs into the deep-set bruises that he couldn’t see. “You don’t have to call me sir.”

You wished you could vomit on command, spew acid like a voxyn and melt the Admiral's face clean off, peel his smile right off of his skull. You knew what he wanted, but you would rather cut off your own tongue than give it to him. But you knew what would happen if he didn’t get what he wanted, your skin crawling at repressed memories. He left you no choice.

“Yes… father.”

“There, doesn’t that sound better? Almost makes me feel like you never even left.”

No it wasn’t better, it was horrid. You forced your face to stay neutral, but behind your eyes you were seething. It must have been the anger welling up inside you that made you see something flicker over the Admiral’s shoulder. Something that definitely wasn’t there.

You were going to get off of this ship if it fucking killed you.

~

Of course it had to be Tatooine.

The dirtball of a planet lit up the viewport in front of Din, bathing the cockpit in sickly, lemon-yellow light. The Crest slid easily through the thin atmosphere on well-tuned wings, coasting over the infinitely stretching desert until the familiar skyline of Mos Eisley rose into view.

Mando took the old gunship in with rehearsed accuracy, alighting gracefully on the landing pad in the center of hangar 3-5, though not even the roar of the Razor’s engines could drown out the high pitched argument already echoing around the circular space.

“You gotta lotta nerve showing up here again, Mando!” Peli barked, tapping her foot like a disgruntled hare when the Mandalorian started down the ramp. She took a big breath to really launch into a tirade when she saw the foundling, with his huge sad eyes and limply drooping ears. “What… what’s wrong with the baby? Is’ee sick or somethin’?” Din started to hand her the child, but she raised her arms defensively. “Look, he’s cute’n all but I-I don’t need a sick kid on my hands.”

“He’s not sick, he’s... fine.” Din said in a low, level voice, devoid of almost all emotion. Somewhat reluctantly the mechanic took Grogu from him, and the little green baby curled up in a ball of sadness, hiding his head under her chin.

“Alright, if you say so. I don’t mind watchin’ him as long as he don’t upchuck on my jumpsuit.” She glanced past the iron giant’s shoulders, her eyebrows raised almost comically. “Where’s the other one? You get rid of her finally?” Din was still for a moment, then gave a single, slow nod. “Good. Bout time someone turned that Imp in. I’m tellin’ ya, she cheated at sabbac like-”

“How did you know she was an Imp?” Mando asked, suddenly alive.

“I have my ways.” She chided. Din cocked his head vehemently above stiffened shoulders. “Alright alright don’t look at me like that, geez. When she showed up here it was in a Shimian pleasure cruiser, y’know one of those fancy, expensive lookin’ ones. Obviously stolen. She wanted me to take it, even offered to pay me just to take it off’er hands, but I wasn’t gonna fall for that. She had alotta credits too, almost enough to talk me into it, almost! That’s when she pulled out an Imperial officer’s insignia, pure aurodium and easily worth a fortune.”

Peli paused to adjust Grogu, smoothing a wayward ear out of her face. “If she’d’a picked it off a corpse there’s no way she would’a kept it. Nuh-uh, would’a sold that baby the first chance she got. Nah, it meant something to her once, or maybe it was just the last bargaining chip she had, I don’t know.”

The mechanic shrugged. “Either way, I took the token an’ fenced the ship, made alotta cash that day. If she didn’t cheat at sabacc so damn much I’d invite her over more often!” The mechanic snorted a laugh, then a serious look crossed her face. “Hey, um, Mando… you weren’t… you weren’t too rough with her, were ya? When you turned her in? She wasn’t a bad egg, y’know. Bit snarky but- ”

Leather fists creaked at the end of armored wrists, trying to strangle the pain that was constricting his heart. “Can you watch the child or not?”

Surprised by his harsh tone, Peli nodded quickly and watched the Mandalorian spin around on his heel and storm back up the ramp into the Crest without another word. The confused mechanic looked down to Grogu with a playful scowl. “What’s his deal, huh, womp rat?” The child cooed sadly, hiding his face. “Oh, that bad, huh? Wanna tell me about it over some bantha burgers? They’re fresh! C’mon, you look like you’re wasting away, dad not feeding you right?”

“Pa..tu...”

With the child’s care secured, Din started his preparations for the hunt. Dressing-down was second nature to him, and going through the motions helped him clear his mind, tune him into his natural state of being. At the armory, he popped fresh cartridges into his blasters, refilled the slug-strap that crossed his chest, and picked out a handful of vibroblades.

He reached into the bottom of the locker, trying to dig out a whetstone when he heard the sweet ringing of ironsong where his wrist armor chimed against a beskar mask. He’d stashed the engagement present as far down in the armory as he could, somewhere that it would remain hidden, somewhere that it couldn’t stare back at him; the eyeless visage glaring daggers of judgement straight through his skull.

Oathbreaker.

Growling, he shoved the slab of steel out of the way, knocking it into something else in the bottom of the armory: Imp guns.

He stopped digging for a moment, cocking his helmet at the collection of grimey, rust-ridden armaments that were dirtying up the bottom of the cabinet. Din pulled one of the standard-issue blasters up into the slanted daylight coming in from the open door, turning it over in his hands. The guns had been collected on Nevarro from a decrepit squad of stormtroopers caught harassing townspeople for information on the missing mandos.

Stormtroopers that you had killed.

Imps killing Imps? That… doesn’t make sense. Why would she kill her own people? He shook his head. Why would they abduct children or blow up planets? Killing their own isn’t that far-fetched. He tossed the blaster back into the locker, covering the beskar faceplate with the rest of the Imp accessories until it was back out of sight.

Finished with arming himself, he took a deep breath and held it in his chest for as long as he could, letting it out slow and steady. He fished the singular bounty fob from his belt, the tracking light flashing with a rhythmic candor. Nearby, but not close. That means they’re probably in town.

This will be easy.

~

The hour was late, or as late as it could be in a place where ‘day’ and ‘night’ were only concepts represented by the arms of a clock, but it was perfect for what you needed to do. You were dressed and your pockets were stuffed, bag slung over your shoulder exactly as it had been the first time you’d ran away from home. Five fifteen, three minutes before the next pass of guards.

Your plan was flawless. The Wyvern’s labyrinthian hallways and service spaces would lead you to the hangar bay just as they had years ago, it was just a matter of doing so unseen. If you played your cards right you would miss each and every patrol until you could snag another interceptor and get the hell outta dodge. The Wyvern was scheduled to disembark Elgon at oh-seven-hundred, making this your last chance to escape before the ship was swallowed by the stars.

Five sixteen.

Patting your front pockets where your fangs were hidden, you paced the room, running through the pathway again and again. Straight down the hallway past the guard quarters, left at the galley. Unscrew the loose air vent at the end of the breezeway and take that to the main air shaft ‘til you reach the mid deck, then it’s a straight shot-

D̵̫͊o̷n̸’t̷ lea̸̒ve̷.

You stopped your pacing and blinked, glancing around the room for the source of the voice. When you saw no one, you sighed and rubbed your temples. Not this shit again. The incessant voice of your nightmares had stopped being scary and started being just downright annoying. You’d started to get good at ignoring the sound, though it just loved keeping you up at night.

Who needs sleep, anyway?

Five seventeen. Your shoulders crackled when you rolled them, trying to loosen the bruised tissue that the Mandalorian had put in their joints. Asshole. You were about to start counting seconds when you heard the troopers boots echoing faintly from down the hallway. Right on t-

D̷͊o̶n̵͗’̴̕t̷͛ ̵͔͘ḻ̷̛eav̵e!

“Fuck off, spooky.” You hissed to no one in particular. “I’m blowin’ this popsicle stand and ain’t no goddamn ghost gonna keep me here a minute longer.” The bootsteps got louder until they were right outside your door, then continued down the hallway.

Five eighteen on the dot. You waited until the footfalls disappeared entirely, then snuck your way out through the bulkhead door, careful not to make a sound. The long, low-lit corridors echoed with the whirring innards of the Wyvern, but nothing else. Not even your bootsteps.

Much quieter than the ghosts that haunted your dreams, you slinked down the hallway, past the closed door of the guard quarters, hugging the wall by the galley until the five twenty-one patrol passed, then flew to the air vent on the far side of the kitchen.

A knife would have worked better, but a fossil fang was good enough to undo the corner screws that kept the grate in place. You slipped down the air duct right before the five-twenty-three patrol rounded the far corner. Waiting until they passed so they wouldn’t hear you, you belly-crawled down the narrow shaft until you dropped into the main air supply.

Wind rushed around you, delivering precious oxygen to every corner of the ship, but even over the near-howling gales you could still hear Spooky giving you a ration of crap.

Yo̷u̵ ca̴n̷̎not le̸̪̕a̵ve! ̵͒S̷tay̴ ̸̔st̷͐ay ̴s̷t̵̂a̷y̵̾ s̷͂ta̵̍y

“You fucking suck!” You spat, hobbling through the just-too-short-to-stand-up ventilation. “Keep your damn pie hole shut unless you have something useful to-”

H̴e’̴̓s ̴̉c̶̍oming.

You hit the brakes, possibly sacrificing precious time. “Who, Forescythe? He’s gotta get his beauty rest, that old fuck’ll be down at least til-”

N̵͒ò̶, n̴o̸t̶ ̴̓hi̵m, Din.

Ice coagulated in your veins before it was replaced with molten rage. “Oh. Oh ho HO.” You laughed, barely keeping your voice down. “Now… now you’ve done it, Spook. Now I know you’re not real, and I’m just completely batshit! Off my rocker!” You soldiered on, a manic grin on your face. “He is definetly not fucking coming. And if you’d been paying attention you’d know that too.”

H̴e’̴̓s ̴̉c̶̍oming!

“Blow me.” You hustled through the ductwork until you were above the entryway to the hangar. The interceptor bay was on its own air supply in case a magcon failed and vacuumed all the air out, a separate system from the one you were in now. That way the rest of the ship would still have precious oxygen in the event of catastrophe, all you had to do now was get through the door.

The five-thirty-five trooper plodded sleepily along, tilting his egghead back to sip at a steaming mug of caf. What is the point of having a guard rotation if they’re not even awake. Once he’d rounded the corner you set to work on the air vent, quickly spinning the threaded ends of the screws around between your fingers until they clattered to the floor far below.

Carefully you moved the grate out of the way and dropped to the decking in front of the hangar door. Bingo! You dashed to the access panel, slapping your hand on the wide palm reader. Go go go go! The blue laser light slid back and forth, back and forth, lazily reading your fingerprints. Come on!!!

The panel went red. ENTRY DENIED.

“Cocksucker!” You slapped the screen, demanding it take another reading, but instead it flashed another line of text: SPW-7042 PRE-EXISTING MEDICAL CONDITION DETECTED, ENTRY BARRED DUE TO HAZARDOUS RHYDONIUM EXPOSURE.

“‘Scuse me?!” you poked at the screen like an geriatric Gungan, “The hell do you mean rhydonium? What fucking lunatic loads a starship up with rhydonium?! Whatever, fuck your rhydonium nonsense you big goddamn hunk of junk, let me through!”

A third line of text ticked across the screen: CONDITION: PREGNANT.

You BARKED you laughed so hard. “Wooooow, that starfuel must be fuckin’ with your circuits, shitscraps, I’ve been chipped since I was thirteen. Ain’t nobody home.” Loud footsteps echoed further down the hallway, times up. Cursing silently, you poked at the screen until the faulty reading cleared, then booked it in the opposite direction of the incoming trooper. Your plan to escape had been thwarted by the Wyvern’s garbage security protocols, and without another way through you were stuck until the ship made it out of hyperspace.

In a week.

~

Somebody had once equated Mos Eisley to a wretched hive of scum and villainy, and the description couldn’t possibly be more on the nose. A multitude of shady market-goers hustled and bustled down the desert streets, kicking up sand and dust as they went. The Tatooinian bazaar was one of the few places that the Mandalorian blended in, amid the multitude of colorful characters the armored hunter was practically invisible.

Din ambled through the streets, not even trying to be sneaky, though behind his beskar he was suspicious of everyone that passed him by. He wasn’t too concerned about his last bounty, almost nonchalantly making his way to the cantina where the bail jumper would certainly be at with their nose buried in either a deck of cards or a shot of spotchka. Or both.

It was easy to follow the street signs to the local dive bar, making him feel almost lazy with how little effort this would take. Feeling bored almost to the point of pessimism, he took a deep breath, the filtered air bringing with it the smell of street food.

He stopped, holding the air in his lungs before forcing it out quickly, taking another handful of deep sniffs. Though he wasn’t eating much these days, or sleeping, or anything else that humans needed to do in order to function properly, the aroma of whatever was being cooked distracted him until it had his full, undivided attention.

Din followed his nose off of the path he was taking to the cantina, his helmet tilting back slightly with each strong inhalation, taking him down the busy main street until he spotted the source of the familiar spice.

Over a large fire a spit was turning with what looked like oversized root vegetables, slathered in herbs and spices and grilled to perfection. Mando cocked his bucket at the rotisserie, ignoring the chef that was trying to hassle him into buying something, trying to figure out what was so familiar about it.

Then it hit him.

You.

Many moons ago, he’d watched you book it out of the safety of the hangar and dash towards the delicious street food while the Mandalorian began picking off the hunters that were still chasing you. You’d barely even looked up from your meal as the bounty hunter dragged a squirming Trandoshan down an alleyway and slit it’s scaly throat. It wasn’t until a whole drop through hyperspace later that Din had found out that you had bought him one of the grilled veggies as well. Before you even knew his name.

Mando, you never ate your breakfast.

You… got me breakfast?

Yes? I said I would.

Thank you… you’re very kind.

And don’t you forget it!

The memory flooded his synapses with forgotten joy before being replaced with scalding fury. He shook his head, storming off down the busy main road, dead set now on finding his quarry. How dare you let that fucking Imp continue to distract you. Get to work.

The doors to the cantina nearly broke off when the living locomotive plowed through them, barging his way through the sleazy patrons towards the bar. Lively music and inhalant smoke hung heavy in the air, shrouding the far corners of the saloon and the secrets they may have kept hidden.

Din was too annoyed with himself to properly check his surroundings, but whatever, it’s just Mos Eisley, he could whip every fucko in this joint with his hands tied behind his back if it struck his fancy. He strode up to the bartender with an air of disgruntled confidence so strong it rivaled the smoky atmosphere with its potency. The Mandalorian fished the final bounty puck out of his many pockets and slammed it down on the counter, its holoprojection wavering in the heady smog.

“Have you seen this man?” Din snapped at the bartender, pointing at the weasley-looking face of the bail jumper shining above the counter.

The barkeep, a shaggy-looking Toydarian with a torn wing, eyed the beskar clad warrior suspiciously. “Hmm. Can’ta’ say’a have.'' he huffed, clearly lying.

“Are you sure?” Din asked, sliding a couple of credits over the counter. “Maybe this will jog your memory.” The Toydarian snatched the coins off the counter with shovel-clawed fingers, stowing them away on his belt.

He leaned forward, the acrid smell of alcohol and rotting teeth quickly overpowering the stench of tobacco. “Maybe I see’s ‘im, maybes I don’t…” Another couple of credits clinked to the counter and immediately vanished from view. “Ya, I see’s ‘im.” He stroked his thickly bristled chin, seemingly deep in thought. “You know what? You’a seem’a like a good guy, why don’t’a I take’a you to ‘im, hmm? Come come come.”

The creature’s wings flapped unevenly as he rose off the stepstool he was using behind the bar, floating through the cantina towards a door obscured by an ornate drapery. Din started to follow, but stopped, feeling his hackles rise on the back of his neck. Should I actually follow this guy? Maybe it’s a trap. He pulled the fob out from his belt just enough that he could see the blinking light flashing quicker than before. I’ll be fine, let’s just get this over with.

The Toydarian opened the door behind the curtain, and immediately the reek of Spice wafted up from the hidden cellar. Drug den, great. That would make sense, what better way to spend your bail money than Huttese Spice, wasting away in the dark. Cautiously he made his way down the stone steps, the light of the cantina fading away as the door started to close behind him. Before it shut, he knew he heard the barkeep mutter something under his breath.

“Coo ya maya stupa…” You weak minded fool.

Din whirled at the insult, but the door had already slammed shut, echoing loudly through the hollow passageway. Cursing, Mando continued down the stairs into the spice den, the aroma of the coveted drug growing stronger with each step until it was making him nauseous. At the foot of the stairs was a low, poorly lit room, the stucco ceiling strung over with dark purple lanterns that steeped the den in near-darkness. Strewn about the floor, the inebriated lounged on pillows or rugs, or even the bare stone, plumes of narcotic smoke dancing over their shadowy faces, obscuring most from view.

Pulling the fob out again, he hovered the tracking device over each intoxicated body, waiting for the light to change green. His search took him further and further into the basement until he had to switch on his headlamp just to be able to see. At the farthest end of the room the last possible person was slumped against the wall, and the hunter crossed the remaining distance to the limp figure, grabbing them roughly by the shoulder and hauling them into the light.

The dead man’s withered head snapped from its twiggy neck and rolled away into the dark, making Din nearly throw the corpse to the ground, the body rattling in the manacles that chained it to the wall. Startled, he backed away quickly, too quickly, backing into something sharp. He tried to whirl around on his sudden assailant, but the stabbing pain of an addict’s needle immediately pierced through the thick layers of his duraweave and into his flesh.

Reacting on fear more than training, he lashed out wildly, firing his blaster with one hand and his flame thrower with the other. The wall of fire lit the cellar up brighter than daylight, illuminating the alien faces of the falsely-inebriated attackers that had been lying in wait for the barkeep to send another fool into their trap. Fearing for his life, for his son, Din battled his way through the many hands grabbing at him, but even in his fury he started to feel his pulse slowing down, reacting to the heavy dose of Spice he had been pricked with.

The room began to spin, his eyes began to lose sight, and it wasn’t until his skull cracked against the dirty floor that he realized his helmet had been removed in the fray, damning him forever in the eyes of his Creed. As the world began to fade away he felt himself get kicked over onto his face and a pair of cuffs locked around his wrists.

“Skocha-kloonkee, the Imps’a gonna pay’a lot’sa money for you, mister bucket man. Hehehe, should’a known better than’a to go into a spicehole alone.”

Before Din lost consciousness entirely, his spiked mind conjured up an image of you, lounging in the passenger seat with Grogu seated on your lap, watching the stars streak by overhead. He tried to reach you, his arms straining weakly against his fetters, trying to touch the memory of you one last time. You turned to him and smiled, holding the baby’s fat little paw up and waving it at him.

“Beans, say bye-bye to papa.”

~

The hour was still early, but you were already dressed in your stupid little monkey suit, ears clad in your empty beskar cuffs, pockets full of fabric and fangs; backpack abandoned entirely to avoid suspicion. Today you would be finding out where the Wyvern was destined for when she left port, but you didn’t really care. All that mattered was that the hangar doors would be open during the myriad of activities.

Today was your chance to escape.

*Beep!* Dropping from hyperspace in: one hour.

The navigational warning chimed throughout the expansive corridors of the Wyvern, echoing pragmatically in your spartan room, and you danced a little jig with excitement. Toodle-oo, fuckos! Consider this popsicle stand: blown!

In your abysmally small quarters the fresher area left much to be desired, but the Admiral had at least done you the decency of giving you a private room with it’s own washing space, as tiny as it was. The shower, sink, and potty all shared the same square footage, and the mirror on the wall was barely big enough to fit your face.

You were working on your appearance now, making yourself presentable before father dearest came around. The more you looked like you had accepted your position as crewmate, the less likely he was to notice you go missing when you slipped away. You combed your hair with your fingers, brushing it back as to more easily seat the dumb little hat on your head. Turning away from the mirror, you picked the hat up off the sink and started to put it on, but nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw someone else's eyes staring back at you.

Yo̷u̵ ca̴n̷̎not le̸̪̕a̵ve.

Angrily you stomped your foot, startled by the flickering, faceless apparition that wasn’t physically there when you turned around. “Shit balls of motherfucking hell! I can’t get off‘a this ship fast enough! I can’t get away from you fast enough!” You smushed your hat on your head, glaring at the bluish, indeterminate figure.

H̴e’̴̓s ̴̉c̶̍oming.

“Listen here, you ectoplasmic bitch.” You hissed with fury, stabbing your pointer finger at the warped image in the aluminum. “I don’t know who you are, or where you’re getting your ‘information’ from, but he ain’t coming!” The deep-cut wounds of heartbreak that had started to scar over split open again, spilling fresh sorrow down over your ribs. “I-I don’t need him anyway. I can handle this myself.”

He n̵ee̵d̶s y̵ó̴̧u̶.

“Bullshit!” You stormed away from the mirror while the Wyvern’s antique wiring faulted overhead, making the fluorescent lights flicker and allowing the shadows to reveal the space where the phantom was standing; casting a faint, ghastly aura on the corners of the room. Snatching a fang from your pocket you whirled on the void, brandishing the pointy end at where a throat might be. “Who’d’ya think you are, anyway, huh? Acting like you know what’s best for me? Telling me that Din’s gonna come back? Ain’t no knight-in-shining-beskar coming for me and I’m sick of you telling me otherwise!”

H̴e’̴̓s ̴̉c̶̍oming.

“That’s it! I’ve had it with your games! Your lies! Show yourself, you spookyass motherfucker! Show me who you really are!”

Sweat began to bead on your brow, anger and heartbreak and venom coursing hotly through your veins until it was pulsating behind your eyes. You grabbed the second fang, ready to sink your teeth into the incessant phantom, their edges cutting into the marks they had already put on your palms once before. To any onlookers you would have appeared like a madwoman, brandishing glittering fossils at empty space, your lips pulled back in a snarl, ready to strike.

“I said show yourself!”

Out went the lights.

And in came the ghosts.

Though the bulbs overhead had blacked out completely, the room was radiating with the light of the sudden crowd, the masses of shimmering specters appearing to go on endlessly throughout a space bigger than your room, bigger even than the Wyvern herself, stretching well beyond the edges of infinity. Farther and farther and farther until your eyes couldn’t distinguish them anymore.

There. Were. Billions.

You blinked fast, your breath catching in your lungs until you were nearly hyperventilating, feeling claustrophobic amid the incorporeal congregation. The sweat on your brow turned to ice, your eyes darting between every face, every person, every body, seeing them clearly for the first time.

Some of them wore elaborate robes, some of them were dressed like peasants, and even more distressing were a collection of beskar plated warriors, their visors glowing with otherworldly light. There were species you were familiar with, and many many more that you weren’t. Some of them were even wearing white duraplast, their eggshells cracked to reveal the glowing eyes underneath.

Some of them you recognized.

“We are the victims of the Empire. The citizens of Alderaan, of Jedha, Scarif, Mandalore and countless others. The Republic we once served turned its back on us, and then its weapons, eradicating the very people that brought it into being.”

Many voices spoke at once, the cacophony of it resonating in your skull until you were clawing at your ears, nearly dropping your impromptu daggers to protect yourself from the skull-splitting noise.

“You must stop it from happening again, but you can not do so alone. Only with your soulmate at your side will you save the people from the vindication of the Empire.”

Hot tears stung at your eyes, flooding out from a place of fear and anger. “Soulmate? SOULMATE?! Bullshit! Bullshit bulllshit bullshit! Din is not my soulmate, if he was then he wouldn’t have left me here rot! Dumped me on the Empire’s front fucking door like yesterday’s garbage! Not that I can even blame him anymore, who could ever love an Imp? We are monsters!”

“You are not an Imp, Tra’laar. You are something far greater than they will ever be.”

The sound of your gifted name hurt in your chest more than the broiling hatred that bubbled underneath your broken heart, taking you down to your knees. In front of you, a pair of specters knelt down to your level, a man and a woman in intricately embroidered red robes. The woman’s eyes were warm and adoring, and the way her cheeks rolled high almost made you feel calm, maybe even loved. The man’s aquiline nose stood out beautifully above his radiant smile, giving you the impression that this was a man who would go to the ends of the galaxy for those he loved.

They looked hauntingly familiar.

The woman reached for your hand, and you felt her. You felt her holding you, as if she were really there, her dainty fingers brushing over where the fang was biting into your skin, fading away the pain. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she was still smiling, looking at you like someone seeing the stars for the very first time.

“You are Hope Incarnate.”

You bolted upright from your little cot, gasping for air until your throat was so dry it felt like fire. Sweat streaked over your brow and down the dip of your spine, soaking the sheets under you. With wild, bloodshot eyes you searched around your closet-sized room for any trace of the phantoms, but even in the dim night light you could tell you were alone. Angry with yourself, you slammed a fist into the steel wall, furious that you had been duped by hyperspace yet again.

The pain of striking the unforgiving hull stung more than you thought it should. Flipping on the lights, you gasped when you looked at your palms, the healed krayt bites red with fresh blood. It had been days since you sliced your palms on their edges, pounding on the bottom of the Razor Crests ramp, and the skin had long since closed up. But now it was as fresh as the day they had been cut, weeping crimson.

I have got to get off of this ship.

It took the remainder of the hour to compose yourself, getting out of your sweat-soaked pajamas and tending to your wounds; but at least Spooky and Friends let you be. Your mind replayed the omen on repeat until you were certain that you had completely lost your mind. No such thing as ghosts. You are tired, you are stressed, and you are completely absolutely one hundred percent bonkers. Fuck this entire noise.

Dressed in your stupid little outfit, for real this time, you sat at the edge of your bed until the the Wyvern’s navigational warning sounded again, giving you only a moment before the ship was dropped out of hyperspace. Eager to get the fuck out, you ran out of your room so quickly that you nearly smashed into the Admiral as he was coming around. “Ah, good morning, Sparrow. I see you’re eager to start the day. Come, I need you on the bridge.”

Obediently you followed along behind Forescythe without a word, letting the imposing captain carve a swath through the multitude of scurrying crewmates as you made your way to the flight deck. When the blast doors opened on the wide, triangular space, your eyes went right over the heads of the officers and out the window to the bright yellow world hanging beneath the ship.

“Is that… Is that Tatooine?”

“How very observant of you. Yes, it is indeed, though it won’t be for much longer.”

Whispers hissed at your eardrums, you must stop it from happening again. “What do you mean?”

The Admiral chuckled, the sound grating like nails on chalkboard. “It’s been hard keeping this secret from you, little bird, but you know how much I love surprises! Oh, look, here comes the rest of the fleet.” He nodded towards the transparisteel as another, smaller starcruiser came into view. Then another, and another, and another until there were at least a dozen titanium daggers hovering in a semi-circle that spanned out on either side of the Wyvern like wings.

“The Empire has been busy since you left,” he scolded, folding his arms behind his back like some kind of skeletal vulture. “The Death Star is obsolete, though the mere idea of a supermassive planet destroyer was folly from the beginning, taking decades to build and almost as long to fire. No more, now we can vaporize an entire world with just one single ship.” He gestured with a flourish, blind to the color draining from your face. “The Wyvern will be at the forefront of the Empire’s destructive capabilities, and lucky you, you will have the honor of a front row seat. What a pity it is that you cannot serenade Tatooine’s demise with one of your songs.”

Stinging bile crept up your throat, threatening to send you into a panic. “Th-there’s people down there. How can you justify killing so many innocents?”

Forecythe scoffed, “Innocents?! On that dirtball of a planet? Inconceivable. The Maker will thank us for wiping it off of the face-” His monologue was interrupted by a hailing beacon lighting up on the communication officer's holodeck. The officer in your old seat answered the incoming transmission, talking to whoever was on the other line through their headset.

“Sir, they’ve located the target.”

“Excellent! And on Tatooine, no less. How ironic. Have the target transported to the receiving hangar so we may make their acquaintance.”

You’d long since become numb to the Admiral’s prattling, your mind racing to find a way to stop Tatooine from being wiped off the map. The ugly little hunk of rock had done you no favors, but that wasn’t an excuse to add more names to the list of dead. You were startled when you were addressed again.

“Come along, little bird, I have a gift for you.” Forescythe said with a crooked smile. If he was trying to be genuine, the effect was entirely lost upon you, his gummy smile reminding you of the forgotten captain’s corpse you’d discovered on Endor. I don’t want anything from you, monster. You flashed him a pair of raised eyebrows in response, and he turned on his heel, waving for you to follow. Whatever the distraction was would at least buy you some time.

You dutifully walked alongside the Admiral through the ship towards the balcony that oversaw the receiving bay. The hangar was swarming with troopers and officers alike, eagerly anticipating the transport unit that was easing itself through the magcon field. The bloated tick of a ship billowed with steam as its landing gear deployed, and soon the short access ramp was angling to the ground. Out first stepped a pair of troopers, their guns drawn on the open door.

Then, out stepped a man.

He was cuffed with his arms behind his back, escorted by another pair of troopers manhandling him down the ramp. Blood poured freely from a wound on his scalp, matting his dark brown curls and pooling in the exposed recess of his eyes. His gait was unsteady, though he was still futilely trying to wrest himself free of the troopers as they marched him through the hangar. You nearly puked your heart out at the sight.

Din.

The Admiral laughed proudly, “They’ve caught that damned mando that everyone’s been on about, though I’m not entirely sure why Moff Gideon struggled so much to catch him, or even what he wanted from such a loathsome creature. There’s nothing of value on him except maybe his armor.” A vile glint sparked in the man’s eyes. “It will be so much fun to peel it off.”

You barely heard his words over the sound of your heartbeat thundering violently through your ears. No.. no no no no no. Another egghead disembarked from the transport, carrying Din’s helmet like an empty garbage can. You swallowed around the cotton growing in your mouth, fumbling for words. “They took his helmet off...”

“Indeed. Being uncrowned is the greatest dishonor you can inflict on one of those wretched things, it renders them worse than dead in the eyes of their cult. After we remove Tatooine from the sky we should-”

“Before.” You interrupted, your voice cold and level, far cry from the hurricane of turmoil you were choking down. “Before we attack Tatooine. I want... I want to tear his armor off, and then I want him to watch. As punishment for stealing my ship.”

The Admiral’s wicked grin sent shivers down your spine, and you knew your lie had taken root. “Very well! Oh Sparrow, it’s so good to have you back aboard. I’d always wondered if you’d taken after me.” Disgust welled up in your guts at the pride beaming off the vile man, but at least you were going to get close to Din.

And do… what, exactly?

The tall man leaned over the balcony railing, shouting down at the guards. “Take the prisoner to the bridge, and make him… comfortable. Wouldn’t want him to miss the show!” Behind you Forescythe turned on his heel and set off back towards the bridge, and you cast a wary glance down at the prisoner below. Din’s bloody head hung limpy, but when it swung your way his blackened eyes caught you, glaring daggers through your soul before one of the guards cold-clocked him between his shoulder blades.

If Din’s here then where’s Grogu? You watched the transport unit, scanning for signs of life, but it appeared to be empty. Ok, maybe they didn’t get him. Your already sickened heart did a violent backflip in your chest, or maybe they did and took him somewhere else, or worse, left him for dead. Din and the guards disappeared through a sliding bulkhead, and you sprang to life to hurry in the Admiral’s footsteps.

When you arrived at the bridge, the stormtroopers had already magnetized Din’s cuffed wrists to the wall, dangling him just far enough off the floor that he couldn’t support his weight properly with his legs. The blood clouding his eyes dripped down the length of his nose and over his lips, staining his teeth crimson. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, hinting at a broken rib or two; but worst of all were his eyes. Bared for all to see, violating his Creed with every Imperial gaze that fell on his uncovered face, and yet the pools of bloodied earth were locked to only one other pair.

Yours.

“Looks like he remembers you.” Forescythe said with a villainous laugh, striding slowly over to the manacled Mandalorian. “My my, would you look at him, he is quite impressive, or at least he was”. The Admiral hovered just out of Din’s kicking range, cocking his head like a raptor eyeing a weak little mouse. “See this marking?” he said, pointing a bony finger at the mudhorn on Din’s pauldron. “They only get these when they become clan leaders. This one’s probably got a whole nest somewhere, breeding like rats. Is that what Moff Gideon was after, hmm? The rest of your bucket headed zealots?”

Din growled, the timbre of it so low and threatening you felt a chill run down your spine. He shouldn’t be here. Though you were still furious with him for what he did to you, you knew this wasn’t a fate that he deserved. Doesn’t he though? Doesn’t he deserve exactly what he did to me? Bile burned in the back of your throat. No, nobody deserves this, not even him.

Forescythe chuckled darkly at the Mandalorian’s weak show of bravado. “I was there, you know, when they gave the order to eviscerate that pathetic excuse for a planet.” Yellowed teeth shined under cold, soulless eyes in a smile that could freeze blood. “I was one of the first commanders to get to… test out the kyber crystal technology that eventually led to the creation of the Death Star. They made me a captain for it, commissioned a Corellian ship for me and everything.” He leaned in close to Din, grinning wickedly at the warrior’s seething anger. “Doesn’t Mandalore look so pretty now, all turned to glass?”

“Demagolka!”

The admiral scoffed at the searing insult, nodding to one of the guards. An electric prod crackled to life in the trooper’s grip before it was being stabbed into Din’s unarmored side, making him cry out in pain.

“No!” You shrieked, immediately covering your incriminating piehole. Fuck.

-flicker flick-

Forescythe glanced up at the sputtering lights, then slowly, maliciously down to you. He scrutinized you a moment, then readdressed the guard, not taking his eyes away from your failing facade.

“Again.”

-czzt cRaCK cRAcK CRACK!!-

You ground your molars into paste trying to keep yourself from screaming, but tears pricking in the corners of your eyes gave away your distress, and when the Admiral signaled the guard a third time it became unbearable.

“Stop it!” You roared through snarling teeth, ignoring the faulty lighting and the feel of the ship quake underneath you.

Forescythe’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “I knew it.” he hissed, his lips curling upwards in a serpentis sneer. “I knew that voice of yours was special, but I never realized you needed a catalyst in order to unlock your potential. Does this... upset you?” He snapped his fingers at the guard, sending another bolt of electricity through Din’s body and bringing more angry tears to your eyes.

“Stop hurting him! I’ll.. I’ll do whatever you want just let him go!” You yanked the cuffs off of your ears and cast them on the floor, the sound of beskar on durasteel jingling like loose change. “I’ll… I’ll sing. Whatever you want, just stop hurting him!”

“Oh, no... we’re well past that now, little bird.” Forescythe loomed over you, an evil glint in his eye. “Now that I know I didn’t waste all those years training your voice, we’re going to take it for a little spin.”

Little miss well-behaved evaporated from your roster of characters, replaced with the big bad bitch you knew and loved. “I’m not doing a goddamn thing. I don’t know what you’re on about, you old shitbag, but you don’t control me. I’m not afraid of you!” you growled, snarling like a rabid nexu.

“That’s no way to talk to your superior officer, bilgerat.” Boney fingers snatched you by the collar of your uniform. “You think I pulled you from the scuppers because of your pretty little songs? No, Sparrow, I knew there was more to you than that. I knew it when I heard your voice through three whole decks of durasteel, and I knew it when you tried to rip your own ears off after we blew up Alderaan.” Forescythe hauled you to him, breathing gross old-man breath in your face. “You didn’t just watch it get erased from the maps, you felt it die. You felt it through the Force.”

You spat in his face, earning yourself a stinging backhand. “Ungrateful brat. I made you, I can unmake you.” The ship quaked again beneath your feet, and the lights in the helm went off, turning the wide, triangular space red under the emergency lights. “That’s it, you feel it again now, don’t you?” The dark crimson lights sank shadows under the Admiral’s eyes, highlighting the bones of his skull, confronting you with the grinning face of death.

From behind the collection of stormtroopers a weak, grating voice called out. “L-let… let her… go…” Din called weakly before he was electrocuted again.

“I said stop hurting him!” You barked, your words so steeped in anger they almost weren’t your own, like someone else was speaking through you.

Forescythe laughed, villainous and wicked. “There it is! Yes! Does that mando mean something to you, girl?”

“Go t̶o he̵ll!” Your voice no longer belonged to you, it was the voice of your nightmares, many tongues speaking at once, spewing toxically from your throat. Around you the air became thick with energy, making the hair on your arms stand on end.

“Now now, Sparrow, is that any way to talk to your father?”

“You are n̸͈͆ȏ̷̪ť̶ my FÀ̷̜TH̵E̴͘R!” The energy in the air became palpable, tangible, burning through your veins and setting your fingertips ablaze with crackling firepower. The Admiral reeled from the burn, dropping your collar and backing away from you with confused, frightened eyes. You clenched your fists so hard your nails dug into the skin of your palms, drawing blood from the marks of the krayt’s teeth. “And that is n̸͈͆ȏ̷̪t my n̶a̷m̸e̵.”

Fear was replaced with undeserving pride, spreading a pearly grin across Forescythe’s gaunt, haunting visage. “That’s it! That’s it, Sparrow! Look at yourself! Look at your hands!” he screamed, pointing at the blisters that were starting to form along your arms. “There is power within you! Let me help you discover it! Help you use it to raise the Empire to its former glory!” He stretched a claw-like hand to you, “Join me, Sparrow, and together we will rule the entire galaxy!”

“THAT IS N̴̻̑O̶T̵̒ ̶M̸̆Y̴ N̷À̷̜M̶E̵!” You screamed, the fury of a thousand voices knocking Forescythe and the guards down to the unsteady ground and sending the officers running for cover. The burning in your fingertips turned to raw power, sparking lightning from your hands. Electricity danced over the metal decking, snapping at the Admiral’s frantic heels like vicious, bloodthirsty dogs. You didn’t see the firepower you were generating, your eyes burning with hateful tears.

You crossed the room on vengeful steps to where the Wyvern’s captain was scrambling to find his footing, snaps of plasmatic energy crackling underfoot with each stride. You hefted the vile man up the wall by his neck until his feet were off the ground, choking and squirming in your grip.

“What’s wrong, captain?” You purred with as much benevolence as an abused circus tiger. “Are you trying to sing for me? I bet your voice sounds so prĕ̴tty̵͝. Go on then, sing me a song.” Terror shined in the whites of his eyes, blood oozing from their corners and out of his ears, dripping hotly over where your fists closed around his throat.

“You can not hide who you are, Sparrow, you’ll always be a worthless scupperbrat without my help. You need me.”

You thrashed Forescythe against one of the consoles, crushing his windpipe under your voltaic claws. “I'm not going to TELL YOU Ā̷̡̲̤̊͒G̶̓A̶̛̫I̶N̵̳̓̋!!.” You could feel his pulse under your fingertips, quick like a frightened rabbit caught in the claws of a mighty, savage beast.

And it felt good.

Energy crackled over his skin where your hands met his flesh, making him writhe in pain from the scorching burn. Under your cataclysmic deathgrip you felt the man laugh, ugly, strained belts of air that made the boiling in your blood rage like molten lava. “Pray tell then, bilgerat, who do you think you are?”

You bared your teeth and smiled, dangerous and threatening. You inhaled, bringing every ounce of air in the room into your tormented lungs, ready to breathe dragonfire.

“I

AM

TR̸̻̰̮̘͘A̷͎̜͔̭͋̽’̸̯͙͖͍̟̾̿̆͐̐͠͝LḀ̵̞̈́́̂̕͝ͅA̶̧̧̠̪͝A̶͎̝̠͖̿̀̇̅̈͜Ă̵͙͎̰̪̿͘A̸̼̥̰̙̱̭̗͆Ȧ̸͙͕̺̫̂̚R̴̨̻̉̊̒́R̷̡̛͕̮̋͊̉͝R̸̫̗̹̻̈̋̃!̴̼͖͕̯̟̖͐̐̽!̴͚͐́͛̂!̵̘̺̮̔͌͊̌̀̓͜ͅ!̶̟̱̹͙͎̀”̵͇̖͙̌̈͠͝

Hate and anger flowed through you in a pyroclast of scorn, erupting from your wicked maw in a firestorm of blinding energy. Your banshee screech overpowered Forescythe’s own terrified screams, but his terror was short lived as the force of your rage started to make the flesh of his face quiver, ripple, and tear until it was peeling off, revealing meat, then bone.

When only a ghastly skull was staring back at you did you silence your scream, dropping the Admiral’s faceless corpse to the floor. You wheeled back around in time for one of the rising stormtroopers to goad you with the electric prod, making you wail. The pained cry tore at the raw meat of your throat until your voice evaporated entirely, taking your siren strength with it. You stole a krayt fang from your pocket and drove it upwards into the soft spot at the edge of the trooper’s helmet, carving downward and splitting their jugular wide open.

Finding the other fang you lashed out with reckless fury, sinking your teeth into the meat of the second guard, blood splashing out over your hands. The third guard didn’t stand a chance as they were caught in your whirlwind of carnage, their blood spilling to the floor with that of their crewmates.

Surrounded by your kills, breath heaving in your chest, you turned your enraged eyes on the man still chained to the wall. Din’s bootheels scooted out from under him, struggling to get away from the blood splattered banshee that was glaring him down.

He looked so helpless, so… vulnerable. You remembered his hateful words, his malicious actions, the heartbreak that was still so fresh and stinging in your chest.

The coppery tang of blood hung heavy in the air, burning in your nose and fueling the rage that surged through your veins. He left you. He left you for dead. He took everything from you. He took your heart and your home…

And your son.

“Where is he?” You seethed, numb to the hot splashes of blood pouring over your hands, from both your killstreak and the charred gashes that streaked down the length of your forearms where the meat of your flesh had melded with the duraweave of your uniform.

“S-safe. He’s safe.” Din stammered, “What… what are you?” His bloodied brow furrowed, “What’s wrong with your eyes?!”

Confused, you glanced at his chestplate where two white-blue lights were shining back at you, and realized with horror that it was your own reflection. The world around you finally started to sink in: the dark red lights, the still-warm corpses, the splatter of viscera on the console that had once been the Admiral’s face.

The klaxon blaring overhead.

Whatever phantom force you wielded dissipated like mist, nearly taking you to your knees as it left. You fell more than leaned over Din to his cuffs, fumbling with the unlocking mechanism until he was freed. “Don’t think this m-means that… that I… woo, that I forgive you, ya big fuckin’ jerk.” You were starting to feel woozy, making you wonder if this was how Grogu felt whenever he used his funky baby powers. “The ships got… got some kinda weapon on it, ‘nother planet popper. I gotta fi-fi-find some way to… to stop it.”

“The hell do you mean ‘popper’?

You flailed your arms around in a grand gesture, sending droplets of scarlet flying “Kaboom!”

“Fuck! Grogu’s down there! Millions of people are down there!”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Din tried to wipe the blood that had pooled around his eyes with the back of one armored hand, but the beskar did little to help clear it away. You grumbled and scooted closer on your knees, trading the fangs for the red silk cloth in your pocket and going right for his orbits. He recoiled from your touch, and instinctively you hissed at him to hold still. Reluctantly, he obeyed, watching you with distrust until he spotted what was in your hand.

“You kept that?”

Shrugging, you dabbed harshly around his eyes until they were as clear as you could get them. “Kept a lotta things.” The talking and the cleaning was making you exhausted, and you sank back on your haunches, nearly falling over into the sprawling pool of blood.

Din caught you before you fell, holding you gently, but even his careful touch burned like acid on your rendered flesh. In the corner of your eye you caught his brows fly high when he clocked your wounds, his breath catching when he saw the whitish tint of bone. “You need bacta...”

You ignored him, glancing around the room for a solution to your predicament when one presented itself to you. Under the smear of gore that had been belittling you just moments prior, the ruined console of the main power controls flashed a desperate warning:

WARNING, RHYDONIUM COOLING CELLS OFFLINE. DANGER! UNSTABLE TEMPERATURES DETECTED!

Oh the irony. Sparks danced from the shattered screen, raining down over the bloodied skull of the murdered captain and catching in his empty sockets, glaring back at you. You forced a laugh. “That’s what you get for tryna mess with me, you sick fuck! Gonna blow your own ratsnest sky high!” Your laughter knocked you off your haunches and into Din’s arms, leaning on him heavily.

Looking up at him you smiled, though his face was a disaster, fear and blood etched into his handsome features. It befuddled you that you could still see his face. “Where’s your bucket?”

Din scoffed, “This entire ship saw me without it, not to mention the shitheads on Tatooine that sold me out. I can’t put it back on.”

“There won’t be anyone left alive to remember your face after the ship blows. How’s that for a loophole, eh?” He scrutinized you a moment, swallowed hard, then nodded. It took a great deal of effort for him to pull both himself and your boneless body up from the floor, and even more strength to stumble over to where his helmet had been stashed, sinking the metal over his head and pocketing the beskar cuffs that laid close by.

The impenetrable beskar slid into place not a moment too soon, his visor flickering to life right as the blast doors to the bridge slid wide, opening on a platoon of troopers.

The eggheads fired with reckless abandon into the delicate consoles of the bridge, aiming for the malnourished Mandalorian and his bloodrending banshee. Even in such a sad state, Din was still faster, whirling you behind his blaster-proof body and setting off the salvo of whistling birds from his vambrace; obliterating each and every Imp in sight.

Hugged to his chest, you blinked at the pile of corpses, then glared at the one who had slain them. “Why don’t you use that fucker more often?”

Din ignored you and blasted the door controls apart, locking the two of you in before dragging you both over to one of the escape pods that dotted the prow. Behind your fleeing duo the console was flashing even faster:

WARNING, RHYDONIUM COOLING CELLS OFFLINE. EXPLOSION IMMINENT! DANGER!

Din set you carefully on your own two feet so he could pry the door to the escape hatch open. The little, single-seated pod was just barely big enough to fit the Mandalorian as he backed into it, his arms outstretched to take you.

You started to squeeze in with him when something out the window caught your eye, and your heart sank through your boots at the harsh reminder that Forescythe had been named Admiral because he now controlled a fleet. The dozen or so starships hovered ominously on either side of the Wyvern, their points aimed right towards Tatooine, poised to make the killing blow.

Din growled at you “Come on, you’ll fit. We gotta go before this damn thing blows!”

You turned up to him slowly with glassy eyes. “I… can’t. The other ships…”

“Fuck’em!”

“No!!” you screamed, dimming the lights. “If I don’t do something about them then Tatooine is still lost!” You pushed away from him and stumbled back through the bridge, your eyes going from console to console until you spotted the flashing light on the comms station. Hand-over-hand you dragged yourself over to your once-prestigious seat, flopping down in the familiar chair and slamming the frequency wide open.

“Come in Wyvern, this is Jabberwocky, what’s your emergency, over?”

“The weapon’s unstable! I repeat! The weapon is unstable! Abort mission! Abort mission! Scramble all ships! I repeat! Scramble all ships!!”

“Who the hell are you? You’re not the Admiral!”

“The Admiral is dead, the damn rhydonium has been leaking radiation into the water supply and the fuel lines! The damn thing’s gonna blow! Save yourselves!”

“Seriously?! I mean, roger! Aborting mission!” You watched with a big, shit-eating grin on your face as the surrounding ships winked out of existence, disappearing into hyperspace. The rhydonium’s warning screen was flashing faster than a bounty fob now, and it wouldn’t be long before it blew the old dragon sky high.

“Ok, let’s go, please!” Din pleaded, trying to urge you to the escape pod. You leaned back heavily in the officer’s chair, the edges of your sight going dark as exsanguination took its toll. Raising your arm, you watched with a silly look on your face while you flexed your fingers, the tendons squirming over your exposed bones beneath what was left of your char broiled flesh. Most disgustingly of all was the shiny piece of metal on your palm, the Admiral’s aurodium insignia lodged in the sundered krayt bite, fused to your flesh from the heat of your rage.

Haha, gross.

“Why… why are you even still here? Go on, escape!” You sneered at him, still angry.

“I’m not going to make the same mistake twice,” he said, crossing the room with his hand stuffed under his ribs, trying to hold himself together. “I’m not leaving you behind again.”

You strained a laugh, the noise grating in your shriveled throat. “Y’don’t need me, y’made that perfectly fuckin’ clear. Leave me to die with the rest of the scum. Besides.” You chuckled, raising your withered hand so the emergency lights danced over the gold plating your palm. “I’m the captain now, and the captain should go down with the ship.”

There was nothing left for you outside of the Wyvern anyway, maybe it was time for you to join Spooky and Friends for good. The Empire would surely hunt you down for your crimes, an even more vehement organization than the Guild, and that would only put Din and Grogu in even more danger than they had been when they still called you family. On a dragon you had risen to the stars, how fitting it would be that on a dragon would you leave them. Poetic, really.

Din cast a worried glance at the rhydonium thermometer. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

Tilting your head back until your skull met the headrest, you relaxed and closed your eyes, feeling the hot drip drip drip of blood running down your arms and pooling at your feet. “Why bother? Why do you even care what happens to me?”

With enormous difficulty he pulled his helmet back off, leaning in close to you. You flinched when two armor plated hands came up under your face, gently lifting you by your chin until you were met with his eyes. Even in the crimson-soaked lights his enormous honeywells shined with more depth than any ocean, glittering with stars.

“Because I still lo-”

*kaBOOM!!!*

Somewhere in the bowels of the ship the overheated ore blew its top, shearing the ship in twain. Din was nearly thrown to the ground from the force of the explosion, nearly dropping his helmet to hold on tightly to the arm rests of your chair. He threw the bucket haphazardly back over his head and scooped you into his arms, roaring in your ears about how stubborn you were sometimes. Under his boots the dying dragon began to angle towards the planet below, starting her final journey to meet the ground.

Din hustled to the escape pod, backing into it and hugging you to his chest, pressing you against the hexagonal divot in his beskar that you missed so much. The little hatch slid closed, sliding over your backside and squishing you up against the Mandalorian. Your guts did a nasty flip-flop as you were launched into space, dropping you towards the planet below.

Before you lost consciousness, whether from the blood loss or the inertia, or just plain old exhaustion, you squinted out the tiny transparisteel window at the ship you’d left behind. The front half of the Wyvern’s Tongue was just starting to break the atmosphere, a colossal blade pointed straight at Tatooine's sprawling desert landscape, breaking apart as it lost the battle with the desert planet’s robust sky.

Breaking the sound barrier, dragonfire erupted around its bow as it tore through the dusty air, sending tendrils of flame fanning in its wake. It was falling fast, but the sheer size of it made it appear to be sinking in slow motion, almost like a dream.

Maybe it was a dream, you thought as you felt the plated arms of your podmate tighten around you, his gloved hands burying into your hair as you plummeted towards terra firma. There was a good chance you wouldn’t survive landing, it was an Imperial built shuttle after all, but at least you wouldn’t die alone.

The roar of atmospheric reentry drowned out any words you may have said to each other, any last words of wisdom or heartfelt apologies would be forever lost to the winds of time, so you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him back; a final act of forgiveness before the darkness took you.

~

Far away from the sinking ship, the tiny capsule skittered over the sand dunes like one would skip a stone over a lake, bouncing over the sand until it lodged itself in the side of a hill. The hatch door launched off, sliding away from the two bodies it had protected. Raising his bucket, Din watched as the Wyvern met the ground, the enormous beast of the ship blocking out the suns as it crumpled into the dunes. Dragonfire erupted around the monstrosity, consuming it in a column of flame and ash that whipped up a sandstorm to rival any fallout.

Against his chest plate you laid limply, making it difficult for the Mandalorian to roll you underneath his body. He boxed you in with his arms and legs, putting himself between you and the oncoming sandstorm as it bore down on your pod. Gritting his teeth behind the visor, he curled over top of you while the deadly storm roared overhead, determined to keep you safe if it was the last thing he did.

The desert sands whipped over his back, flinging superheated shrapnel and massive chunks of durasteel flying as if they were toys. Din held your body to his, just waiting for the fallout to crush you both dead, or the sands to blow you away; but an eternity later the storm passed, leaving you both unharmed. Exhausted and in agony, the Mandalorian shook the sand from his back and hauled your near-lifeless body from the newly carved dune, brushing the dirt from your face. “Tra’laar? Are you ok? Can you hear me?”

No answer.

He tugged a glove off and stuffed his fingers up under your jaw, hunting for a pulse. Your heartbeat was weak, but steadfast, and he sighed heavily with relief. “This is all my fault. I never should have left you behind, cyare! Please… please wake up!” Kneeling over you, he ran his hand down your face, gently brushing away the grit stuck to your skin. When you still didn’t respond he dug his arms under you and hauled himself to his feet, ignoring the feel of his broken ribs grinding together. With you in his arms for what he knew could be the last time, he set off across the dunes towards the city on the horizon.

~

A warm desert breeze passed softly over you, the first herald of the Tatooinian dawn coming up over the mountains to burn away the mist that hung in the air. It felt nice on your skin, gentle and promising as the new day. It would be so nice to lie like this forever, eyes closed, stretched out and comfortable, basking in the double sunlight. Your eyelids were so heavy, but as much as you would like to laze about til the stars fell down, you knew you had slept long enough.

Slowly, achingly slowly you started to pry your lids open, the world around you blurry and faded. Turning your head was a chore, and was accomplished more through the aid of gravity than muscle. At your side you saw two blurry figures, their features distorted by the haze behind your eyes, but to you they looked like a man and a woman, both wearing intricate red robes like the people in your premonitions.

The familiar lady leaned over you, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your sticky brow. Her radiant smile shined with love and adoration, rivaling the warmth of the twin suns themselves. When she spoke, her voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, as if it was already in your ears.

It’s time to wake up now, Starsong. He’s waiting for you.

The stranger smiled and glanced over at the man who was sitting down in a little chair next to whatever you were laying on. You followed his eyes to where he was holding your hand, quizzically furrowing your brow at his forwardness and giving yourself a headache that made you squeeze your eyes shut.

When you opened them again, the man in the chair was replaced by a different character, this one dressed head to toe in beskar and bandoliers, his helmeted head tilted forward until it was resting on his chest plate, slowly rising and falling in time with his breath. Even in his sleep he was drawing languid circles on your palm with his thumb, his fingers twitching slightly to hold yours closer.

“...Din?”

The fingers on the back of your hand squeezed tight as he bolted upright, nearly jumping out of his seat and frightening the attending nurse droid. “Hey, you’re awake! Are you alright? How are you feeling?” The Mandalorian asked frantically, taking your bandaged hand in both of his and clutching it to his chest.

“What… what’dya mean how am I fe- oh.” You looked down at yourself, finding the long glowing tubes of bacta needles sticking from your other arm between long strips of gauze, making you immediately nauseous. A leather gloved hand came up and caught your face, pulling you back over to meet his infinitely black visor.

“It’s ok, cyar’ika, nothing’s missing, just keep your eyes on me. You were in bad shape when I got you here, but the infirmary had e-bacta infusions on hand. You’re healing up well! They were able to remove the metal piece from your hand and debride the duraweave from your burns, and most of the skin on your arms has already grown-”

“Ok ok ok enough!” you grumbled, starting to feel sick. You leaned back against the cot, relaxing into the feel of a gentle hand brushing over your cheek and down the side of your neck. Din’s caresses made you hum from his comfort, but your hums soon turned to growls. “Din, why am I still alive? I should have gone down with the ship.”

The hands withdrew immediately back to the lap of their owner. “I… I couldn’t let you.”

Your lips pulled back to bare your teeth, adding fresh agony to your growing migraine. “Fuck do you mean couldn’t let me, You don’t get to ‘let me’ do anything! How dare you act like you care!” You hissed with a sting in your voice. “Why do you even give a shit what happens to me?”

“Because!” He barked, fidgeting with his gloves, watching his own yellow tips go round while he twiddled his thumbs, searching for the right words to say. “Because I… because Grogu would never forgive me if I had let you die.”

Something about that last line made your heart ache, maybe it was the reminder of losing your son, or maybe it was the way that Din was clearly trying to hide deeper feelings. “I’m surprised he’s not in here, wouldn’t have to waste credits on bacta then.”

“He tried to heal you, but something about your wounds wouldn’t let him. I-I can’t explain it but… but he tried.” Din’s helmet snapped away from you, fixating on something of interest on the bare stucco wall. “He tried and tried until he passed out, then woke up and tried again. It was too much for him, I-I c-couldn’t keep letting him run himself dry.” Din sighed, letting his shoulders droop. “...He misses you.”

Sorrow and fury nearly broke the circuits of the heart monitor, summoning the nurse droid to come check your lines. You ignored the fussing robot to interrogate the Mandalorian further. “Why? Didn’t you tell him I’m a traitor? Didn’t you explain to him that I’m a lying, filthy Imp?” Your teeth flashed in a snarl. “Didn’t you tell him I’m not part of your clan anymore?”

Din’s laugh startled you, “The day that boy listens to me is the day the universe collapses in on itself. You’re the only one he ever listened to.” Fidgety hands toyed with the strap that crossed over the widest plate of beskar, fingers stopping at each slug to set them perfectly in line as if they weren’t already. “I can’t get him to eat, or sleep, it’s almost like I’m not even there. He… he cries nonstop, especially when he’s looking for you...”

You blinked at the itching in the corners of your eyes, your tear ducts having long since dried out. Though he was talking about Grogu, you knew by the guilt that steeped his words that the little green terror wasn’t the only one suffering from the Mandalorian’s decision to abandon you.

“He… he needs you…” Din trailed off, slowly tilting his visor over at you again, his hands stilling. “I…”

Din paused, letting the unspoken words hang heavily in the air, bringing with them a silence that would rival the infinite void of space. The nurse droid seemed to fade away, followed shortly by the beeping heart monitor, then the walls, then all of Mos Eisley, consumed by the roar of silence.

You could hear it though, the sound of those three little words that would change everything. Three tiny, insignificant words that even ghosts knew how to use. Powerful in their simplicity. You stared at where his eyes should be, imagining his furrowed brows, his tear-streaked cheeks, the corners of his lips twitching as they fought the floodgates that threatened to burst.

Just say it, Din, say what you need to say. Fix what you have broken.

“I...I’ll go get him.” Swallowing around your dry tongue, you nodded, dropping your gaze to the floor. So close. Din stood and brushed imaginary dirt from his clothes, “There’s someone else who wants to meet you as well, if it’s alright.”

“Who?” There wasn’t a single living being in all the galaxy that you wanted to see right now besides Grogu, plus you doubted there was anyone you knew who would want to see you anyway.

“Um… someone who’s been looking for him. His… people.”

You felt your heavy heart sink right out through your spine, dropping like a slab of raw meat onto the dusty hospital floor. “His… h-his people? Does… does that mean he’s going ho-”

“Just hang on, ok?” Din rose hastily and sped from the room, leaving a thick aura of unanswered questions in his wake. When he returned, he gestured to someone behind him, indicating that it was safe to enter your room. A young man with tousled blond hair and long black robes crossed the threshold to the medbay, but you couldn’t care less about who he was or what he looked like, because your eyes were locked to the little green baby he was carrying.

“Bubu!!!” Grogu cried, flailing in the man's arms until he was brought closer.

“BEANS!” you reached out with your good arm to take the squirming little monster, hugging him to your chest while he sobbed.

“Bububububububu…” He babbled, tears streaking down from his cosmic eyes while he patted your cheeks and dug claws into your skin. You curled up on your side and hugged the baby close to your chest, ignoring the dampening fabric beneath you as your own tears trickled down onto the threadbare sheets. You tried to comfort him by kissing his wrinkly head between choked sobs and carefully smoothing his ears, but the joy of having your baby back only made you cry even harder.

“Boo-boo? Wh-what… what’s he trying..?”

“Buir.” Din answered, his voice strong with reverence. “He is trying to say buir.” You burrowed your face against the shaky baby and reached out towards Din’s voice until you found his hand.

“Thank you.” You whispered between tears. “I thought I’d never see him again.” You pried your flooded eyes away from Grogu to glance up at the stranger standing politely in the corner, remembering what Din had said about Grogu’s people. “Who’s mister sunshine over there with the cute boots?”

The young man smiled and bowed slightly. “My name is Luke Skywalker, I came to investigate a disturbance in the Force that led me here. When I met Grogu I thought it may have been him reaching out to me, but now that I am standing in the same room as you, I realize that you are the source of the shockwave that I felt.”

You cradled Grogu against your chest, “The Force? Isn’t that just a saying the New Republic uses? Live long and prosper, may the force be with you, to infinity and beyond, blah blah blah...”

Luke laughed, “It is, but the Force is very real. It is the life energy that flows through all living things, even after they have passed on.” The young man crossed the room to your little trio, his robes and cape swishing dramatically with each step. “Tell me what happened to the ship that crashed out on the dunes, something tells me you were involved?”

You recounted your tale, from your hyperspace premonitions to your whispering nightmares, describing the ghosts you’ve seen and heard. You held up your arms for him to look at the damage the lightning had done, and pointed to your throat when you told him how you shouted the admiral apart. He listened intently and without interruption until you were telling him about the rhydonium bomb that blew the ship to smithereens. “And then I woke up here.”

“That’s fascinating, I’ve only read about Thunderfuries in the ancient texts, I never thought I'd meet one in real life, they’re exceptionally rare. Some scholars have even described them as mythological. Their charismatic voices have been described as ‘more powerful than a siren's song and a thousand times more deadly, able to lull insomniacs to sleep or shout the stars down from the sky.’”

You kissed Grogu’s head and propped yourself up on your elbow. “How come it's only manifesting now? I mean, I’ve had some weird shit happen in my life but never like that.”

“You’ve probably used it before without realizing it. Have you ever been so mad your voice changed? Or convinced someone with an unbelievable lie? Maybe even called someone back from the brink of death?” You nodded at each of his questions, feeling the color drain from your face. “Your powers may become more volatile when you’re threatened, or when someone important to you is in danger, a catalyst, if you will. May I have your permission to touch you?”

You shrugged, not really caring, but Din stiffened visibly at your side before backing away to let the man through. Luke placed his left hand on your forehead and closed his eyes, concentrating. “Yes, the Force is strong with you.” He moved down to your throat, touching your larynx softly. “Even stronger here, I’m willing to bet that the midi-chlorian count around this area is where it is highest, but I still feel something else.” He palpated your sternum though your ratty hospital gown, then your stomach, and finally the bottom of your belly, making you flinch. “Here. There is something here as well. It’s faint but-”

“No…”

“Your youngling…”

“NO.” You shouted, making the man recoil from the energy you gave off. “Not you too! First that damn robot and now this dude. I am not pregnant, I'm chipped! I’ve been chipped since I was a teenager. Get that damn nurse droid over here and I’ll prove it!” You barked at the droid organizing the bacta. “C’mere and scan me!”

The animatronic healer rolled over to you, a long scanner unfolding from it’s chassis. A hologenic light flickered over you, scanning up and down your body, making an extra pass over your abdomen that beeped when it had completed its investigation. “I-am-sorry-miss, but-your-chip-appears-to-be-missing.”

“MISSING?! The hell do you mean…” You trailed off, too many thoughts hitting you at once until one of them struck you like a bell. “Hoth. I probably left it on Hoth. Fan fucking tastic.” Oblivious to the needles in your skin you squished your eyeballs under your palms and slid your fingers into your hair, trying to yank it out.

When you opened your eyes back up you flinched from the collection of boys staring at you. Luke looked respectfully embarrassed, Grogu’s eyes were full of stars, but Din looked like he’d been frozen in time, not even breathing. He managed to croak out a single word: “Ch-chip?”

“Yeah, my standard-issue contraceptive implant’s probably sitting in a pile of goo in that fucky cave. You must be packin’ some pretty potent spunk to have already knocked me up.”

“Con... con-con-con… c-con..tra-”

“Din?”

“C-con…” Din short circuited and fell silent, his mental cogwheels grinding to a halt. A heavy silence filled the small infirmary for a time before he was moving with agonizing slowness. He brought one hand up and set it so gently on your tummy that it was almost non-existent. “...Mine?”

You rolled your eyes so hard they almost fell out of your skull. “Yeah bucket boy, ain’t nobody else got to tap this.” You shimmied in a terrible attempt at seduction, bobbing your bacta lines more than your boobies. He nodded solemnly, still trying to reboot, but the silence gave the poor sidelined Skywalker a chance to speak.

“Congratulations, I think. If it’s alright I would like to speak frankly.” You shrugged and nodded, not waiting for Din.exe to come back online. “Yours and Grogu’s Force powers are very special, but also very dangerous. While it shows that you both have extraordinary talent, without training that talent will go to waste, or worse, could fall into the wrong hands. With your permission I would like to take you both to the Jedi Temple where you can learn to master your abilities.”

You started to try to sit up, struggling against the pain that still permeated your body, but Din sprang to life, helping to ease you comfortably to a seated position with Grogu on your knee. Setting your hand on your collar bone you rubbed at your throat. “Yeah, I think I know what you mean. I dunno jack shit about this Force whatsit, but it was pretty cool to melt Forescythe's face like that. If I go with you, will you teach me how to do that without burning my arms off?”

“The lightning is a byproduct of the Dark Side of the force, it is only manifested through hatred and anger. The more you use it, the more it will destroy you.”

“Oh...”

“I will teach you how to use the Light Side, which is achieved through patience and dedication.” He laughed, “And also won’t burn your arms off.”

“What’d’ya think, Beans, you wanna go to school?” Grogu chirped sweetly in your arms, rubbing at his eyes with fat little paws, then yawned. “I’ll take that as a yes. Alright, sunshine, it’s a deal, ain’t nowhere else for me to go anyways.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Once you have made a full recovery we will be on our way. It was nice to meet you as well, Mandalorian. May the Force be with you always.” The nice young man bowed slightly before turning on his heel and heading out the door, his cape billowing behind him as he went.

Grogu curled into a ball on your lap and fell asleep faster than you’d ever seen, and carefully you brushed your hand over his ears. “Poor baby, so sleepy. You rest now, you’ve earned it.” A heavy silence filled the room, punctuated only by tiny snores. When you looked up from the sweet little baby you were surprised to see Din’s visor locked on you from where he sat, frozen solid. “Well, bucketboy? You gonna say something?”

Wordlessly he started digging into the pouches on his belt, fishing around until he pulled the remains of a microchip out into the dusty sunlight. Although it was nearly crushed beyond recognition, you knew by its broken legs and shattered insignia that it was all that was left of your contraceptive implant. Fresh, scalding rage bubbled in your chest at the sight. “Din… Why do you have that?”

“I found it that night on the Sunskate when you sent me to find you some soap. It was in the canister we used to capture the egg-pod-thing. I should have told you about right away but… but I was worried that maybe the pirates planted it there. Then I got it into my head that it had come from you and… and…”

“And what?!”

“And I’m sorry!” He cried in a strained whisper, careful not to wake the blessedly sleeping baby. “I don’t expect your forgiveness, nor do I deserve it, but… but I’m sorry.” His modulated voice cracked with something, maybe faulty wiring, maybe tears. “If… if I’d just asked you about it from the start none of this would have happened.” He gestured vaguely at all of you, sitting at the end of the cot in your shabby gown, your bare feet swinging freely. “I’m sorry for how I acted and what I said. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“You’re only saying that because you stuck a bun in my oven.”

“No, what I did was wrong, it was cowardly.” his visor snapped up to meet your eyes, “I have dishonored you and myself. I broke every vow I made to you without giving you a chance to explain. I shot at you, I shot at my wife.” His voice faded away, weighed down by shame. “I am a monster.” His helmet tilted away from you towards the ground, studying his boots.

You thought for a moment, watching the warrior coming to terms with his own judgement. Licking your dry lips, you asked him coldly: “Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Try to shoot me.”

He turned away from you shamefully, “Because you were… b-because I decided that you were a threat.”

“A threat to who? To you?”

“No.” he paused, his breath hitching in his lungs. “A threat to… to Grogu.”

“That’s what I thought.” You chided, cocking a brow at him when he turned to face you again. “You saw a threat to your son and you acted, though maybe you could have, oh I dunno, listened to me before you went off your rocker.” His hands twiddled with the edges of his legplates, his eyes avoiding your gaze. You readjusted the bundle on your lap, tucking his goofy potato sack robe under his butt. “If I thought you were a threat, I would’a shot you too.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“No, it doesn't, though I probably shouldn’t have been keeping secrets from you.” Now it was your turn to look away, turning your gaze up to the stucco ceiling where maybe the Maker was watching you. “However, if you hadn’t broken my heart and dumped me on the Empire’s doorstep then I’m guessing Tatooine wouldn’t be here anymore, or whatever planet they decided to fuck over. So I guess…”

“You don’t need to justify it. What I did was wrong and hateful.” He scootched the little chair closer to your side until his knees bumped against the cot’s edge, barely inches away from your own. “If you never want to see me again, I- I would... understand. I wish you and Grogu the best with your training. And the youngling too if… if you decide to keep it.”

His visor sank back to the floor before he was pulling himself to his feet, making to leave you and take his guilty conscience with him, but you caught his hand before he got too far. He whirled around, gawking at you with that big metal bird impression that he does so well.

“What do you mean if? Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

You heard something rattle behind his modulator, accompanied by the strained quake in his shoulders. “I can’t force you to, or even ask you to. I know you said you w-weren’t ready for children, and to have to raise one alone would be-”

“What makes you think I would be alone?” You squeezed his captured hand, running your thumb over his knuckles. Din cautiously stepped closer, brushing his hand over Grogu’s wrinkly little head.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. You’ll have Grogu and Luke to look after you. The boy seems trustworthy enough, and once you master your powers-.”

“That’s not what I mean, Din.” You tugged on his hand, scrounging up the courage to find out the truth, even if you had to use a crowbar to get it. “What… what were you going to say to me, before the rhydonium blew?”

His armored shoulders rose with a sudden intake of breath, going stiff while the air stuck in his lungs. His response came out slowly. “Does... does it matter?”

“If it didn’t, would I be asking?”

Yellowed fingertips flashed in the fresh dawnlight filtering in through the infirmary window, fidgeting on the ends of armored wrists. Din squared his shoulders and stood straight and proud, his modulated voice giving away his timidness. “I...”

“Yes..?”

“I…” he took your hand in both of his, careful not to upset the bacta lines growing from your flesh or the precious bundle swaddled on your lap. “I… I still love you.”

You cocked your ear at him and waggled your brows. “What? I didn’t-”

“I still love you!” Din fell to his knees in front of you with a mighty racket of metal and munitions that shockingly didn’t wake Grogu. “I love you, cyare, I need you! I love the sound of your voice and the warmth of your smile. I love the way you laugh, the way you cry. I love that you terrify me like no one ever has. I love the way you feel, the way you smell, the way your fingers used to tangle in my hair when we slept together.” He carefully lifted your hand until your knuckles rested on the brow of his helmet, “I miss you, beautiful creature of the stars. I would give anything to have you back again.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

You pondered a moment, letting him wallow in his guilt until you could hear his breath getting ragged from the suspense. “Alright, give me your ears.”

“You... want me to cut them off?”

“Pfft, no, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.” You said with a laugh. “I want you to listen.” You pulled your hand away from the cool metal of his forehead to pick at the bacta tubes on your other arm. “I was an Imp, but not because I wanted to be. When I was a child I was stowed away on the Wyvern before it left Corellia’s port, which happened often enough on that skughole of a planet that there was a name for us. We were called bilgerats.” You met his visor, watching the way his head cocked to the side. “The Empire adopted me, I didn’t have a choice.”

“Like… like a foundling?”

“Mmhmm. When the captain decided that I had potential, or apparently magic, he gave me a name and a real job, but it was never my choice. I chose to leave them behind. I chose to become a hunter. I chose…” You paused, flitting your eyes between the corners of his visor where you knew his eyes were, wishing that you could see them for yourself. “I chose to love you.”

A broken sob rattled his helmet as his composure started to break down, his hands coming up to caress gently at your cheek. You held your hand over the back of his, leaning into his palm. He took a series of deep, desperate breaths before he found his voice again. “C-could you e-ever love me again?”

“Only if you promise to never dump my ass over stupid misunderstandings again, think you could do that for me?” He couldn’t speak, he just nodded so fast his helmet almost flew off. Laughing, you stretched your arm out to him, careful not to lose the foundling on your lap. Din clambered up from the floor so fast his boots nearly went out from under him, plowing into your chest with a hug so fierce you felt your ribs creak. “I sure hope so, tinman, because I still love you too.”

Not even the dry desert air could stop your tears anymore, and you let them flow freely into the fabric of Din’s cowl, burying your face between his shoulder and the edge of his helmet while he hugged you like his life depended on it. The sharp metal cut your skin and made you frustrated that he even still had the damn bucket on. “Din can you take your helmet off? There’s nobody here but the droid. I want to see you.” He shook his head ‘no’, dragging his palms over your back, his leather gloves snagging on the ties that held your gown closed. “Can we go somewhere you can take it off? Maybe… maybe somewhere more comfortable?”

“You’re in no shape to move.”

“Please?”

He hated it when you begged, or maybe he fucking loved it, either way he was nodding and rising to his feet, stuffing your collection of trinkets into his many pouches. He cast a suspicious glance at the nursebot before helping you pull the bacta lines free. Immediately the attending droid started to protest, but was met with the business end of a blaster. Din cocked his helmet arrogantly, a mused laugh sneaking through his modulator.

“We’re checking out.”

~

You were giggling like a schoolgirl as you were carried up the ramp into the Crest by the Mandalorian, cradling Mr. Sleepy against your chest. The armored warrior set you down gently on the edge of the bed, jabbing at his vambrace to close the ramp. You sniffed the musty air, crinkling your nose. “Holy shit what is that smell?! No wonder the kid can’t sleep, It stinks in here! Open a window!” The singular transparisteel viewport didn’t ‘open’, but the ventilation did, and soon slightly-less-stinky desert breezes circulated through the cabin. “That’s better, now off with your damn head!”

“Alright alright.” Din chided, fishing for the edge of his helmet and pulling the offending beskar away, setting it down gently on a nearby crate. Though the blood had been washed from his hair days ago, a crudely placed cauterizer burn still shined red with swelling, but that was only the start of his worrying features. His hair was unkempt and ratty, his eyes sunken and hollow, even more than they had been when you’d seen him uncrowned aboard the Wyvern. His shaggy facial hair did a poor job of hiding his pale, nearly translucent skin.

But his smile, his adorable, lopsided smile was exactly as you remembered it, rolling the swells of his cheeks right up into his deep brown eyes. Dazzling canines caught the hazy cabin light while he beamed at you sheepishly, his eyes glancing at your face then bashfully away, aware that he must look terrible.

Carefully you set the foundling down on the bed by your side, brushing a wayward ear from his face before reaching out to the baby’s father. Gloveless hands found your cheeks, his touch more cautious than if he were handling porcelain, pulling you into a long awaited kiss.

Din kissed you like it was the very first time, chapped lips brushing yours softly, tentatively, like he was afraid that touching you would wake him from this dream. The dream of having you in his arms again. You slid your bandaged hands up his armored shoulders until you were at his scruffy jaw, pulling him closer.

At the feel of gauze on his skin he pulled away, worry etched into the creases around his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you, maybe we should wait til-” Huffing, you dug your hands into his messy hair, dragging him back to you and kissing him so hard you felt your teeth knock together. He inhaled with surprise before melting into your hands, tilting his head to chase the taste of you deeper.

The bristles of his mustache tickled at your nose, but you were too lost in his love to notice, tangling your fingers in the curls that hung at the back of his neck. The hands at your cheeks glided down to your shoulders, then your sides, then around to your back, deftly picking apart the knots that held your ugly gown together. He pulled away from you again, “May I?”

You nodded and laughed, “Please, it’s itchy! Though I’m pretty sure half of Mos Eisley already saw my hooha flappin’ in the breeze today. Hey what happened to that cantina on the corner? They used to have the best spotchka…”

“No idea. Must have been a big fire though…” He laughed at his own poorly-veiled lie, kissing at your jawline while he tugged the last knot free. The ratty hospital gown fluttered to the floor unnoticed, the two of you lost in each other’s eyes. Though you were naked save for your bandages, he couldn’t take his off of your face, reverence stretched across his features. “Is… do you think what the nice man said is true? That you’re… um…”

His versatile hands that could snap necks like twigs or tear flesh asunder came up to settle gently on your belly, rubbing softly back and forth and sending scalding heat to your cheeks. You shied away from him, studying the cabin wall like the secrets of the universe were written there. Flustered, you found your voice, “I don’t know, maybe. Pretty early to tell, but he was right about everything else. Probably right about that, too.”

He caught your embarrassment and withdrew. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to… If you don’t… I’ll support any decision you-”

You silenced him with a finger on his lips. “No, I want to. I’m just… I’m scared.” You hugged yourself regardless of the warm desert breeze, fingertips fiddling with the edges of the gauze that rode up to your elbows. Nestled against your thigh you saw Grogu twitch in his sleep, half sunk into the smelly Tatooinian bed roll, his sweet little smile matching your own. “You’re such a good dad, Din, like you were made to be one. But…” You brushed your hand over the foundling's supersized ears, “But I don’t think I'd make a good mom.”

“You already are.” Din whispered with more conviction than you’d ever heard, his hand finding your chin to tilt your eyes back to him. “You always have been. From the day you met Grogu you’ve been his mother. You’re strong, and fearless, and terrifying.” He smiled when you laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear for you. “But you’re also loving, and sweet, and compassionate. And did I mention you’re the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life?”

You giggled again, rolling forward until your brow met with his. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not. I think you’ll be amazing.” He kissed you again, stronger than before, breathing in deeply with the scent of you, of his mate. “I know you will.” You studied his face a moment and nodded, feeling your breath hitch threateningly in your throat. Din heard your hidden distress and backed away, tearing his remaining armor off and gently setting it next to his helmet until he was bare chested before you, a large bacta patch holding his broken bones together.

He dove towards you with passion, his chest pressed to yours, his kiss hungry but gentle. Though his flesh was warm and inviting against your own, your fingers quickly found where his ribs were showing through his sides, rippled like a washboard from not eating properly. You made a mental note to grab some of those roasted taters you liked so much later, but for now you let yourself get lost in the Mandalorian’s touch.

Though his hands were careful, you could tell that there was a hidden desperation behind his movements, his touches frantic to confirm that you were really here. His fingers slid up your back to tangle in your hair, holding you close while he experimentally licked his tongue into your mouth, eager to meet your own. A wide, calloused hand braced on your thigh, supporting his ever-growing weight over top of you. You hummed into his mouth and patted his chest, asking him to give you space.

He looked at you quizzically, but before he could start another long winded string of apologies you nodded down to where Grogu was sleeping peacefully. By the look on his little princely face it had been a long time since he’d slept so well, and though you knew he deserved his rest, he was very much in the way of what you and Din were after.

Maybe it was the bacta still flowing through your system, or maybe it was the fact that you’d survived yet another near-death experience. Or perhaps it was true what the ghosts in your visions had said, that the man before you really was your soulmate, destined to return to you again and again. Either way your body craved him, flooding your belly with heat at the sight of the robust warrior that would rather let himself waste away than live a day without you in it.

You needed him.

And he needed you.

Right now.

You scooched off the end of the bed, covered the baby with a thin blanket, and slid yourself into Din’s arms, kissing your way up his neck to the bottom of his jaw. He shivered under you, groaning with pleasure until you reached his ear, nipping at his earlobe where you whispered: “Do you remember the first time you made love to me?”

He growled, the low timbre of it making your skin prickle with goosebumps. “How could I forget?” His scruff brushed your cheek as he nuzzled you, dragging his teeth along the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his palms squeezing into your hips. You took a slow step backwards, luring him to follow until your knees bumped against a crate, a subtle laugh escaping your lips when you plopped down on it. Din fumbled for the sleeping cubby controls until he found the button that closed the protective door, shielding the foundling from your erotic courtship dance.

Not an inch of space remained between the two of you when he pressed his body to you again, slotting his mouth to yours, hands gripping the stubborn crate to support his slow, demanding ruts against your heat. You wrapped your legs around his waist, catching your heels in the pockets of his duraweave pants, trying to kick them off. His rich laugh rumbled against your chest, reverberating in the warmth flooding in your heart, and pussy. “Please, riddur’ika, let me take care of you.”

Lost in the kisses that he was planting down the length of your chest, he didn’t see your brows furrow at him. “Do… do you still get to call me that?”

He froze, his lips poised just above your pebbled nipple, so close to getting a taste of you. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “That...that is your choice to make.” His pleading eyes looked up to you, so big and full of sadness you almost cried. “I would… I would like to again, but only if-”

“Yes.” you pleaded, running your fingers through his hair, skimming the long, jagged scar. “Yes, please, don’t ever stop calling me that.”

“Ner riddur.” He moaned, sucking the tip of your breast into his hot wet mouth, arms coiling around your waist. The hastily renewed vow tumbled from his lips in between each languid roll of his tongue, mumbled like a prayer to your altar of forgiveness. You sighed and arched your back into his affections, gasping when one of his nimble hands snaked around your front and sank into your folds.

Stars you’d missed this, you’d missed him. Missed the way his lips sought every inch of your chest, missed the way his fingers curled perfectly against the spongy spot hidden in your walls, drawing beautiful gasps from your parted lips. You’d even missed the way he ran his mouth, spilling muffled praises against your skin between greedy laps of his tongue.

He released your swollen bud with a pop of his lips, kissing down the softness of your tummy. You leaned back until the cool metal of the crate met your spine, offering yourself to him fully. Din’s whiskered kisses ticked at your sensitive middle, each one slower and more deliberate than the last until he was just below your belly button. The fingers buried inside you slowed, rubbing careful circles that couldn’t distract you from the loving way his lips met your skin, his kisses lingering.

“Mine.” he whispered with a secretive giggle, his unoccupied arm scooping under the small of your back, holding you steady. He kissed you once more, then pressed his entire face into your belly, rubbing his scruff over the tender flesh, almost like he was scenting you.

Still speared on his fingers, legs flung wide to accommodate him, you lifted your head to get a better look at his foolishness. “Tinman…?”

“I’m sorry, I just.” He planted his chin on your pubic bone, slipping his fingers out and smiling up at you with adoration in his eyes. “I just… I can’t believe it.”

“Really? After all the times you said you wanted to breed me, you’re flummoxed that you’ve actually gotten me pregnant?”

Din popped up like a whack-a-mole at the magic word, a hundred emotions spread across his face. “S-say that again.”

“Breed me?”

“No!”

“Flummoxed?” His brows sank with frustration over his lust-blown eyes, making you laugh. “Fine fine. Din.” You propped yourself up fully, your knees hugging his chest where he was kneeling between your legs. With his head in your palms you brushed your thumbs over his cheeks, reveling in the way he was waiting on bated breath for your words. “Din, I’m pregnant.”

The joy that radiated off of this man could have knocked the suns from the sky if they were any closer, his laughter so full of hope and happiness you couldn’t help laughing along. This was how it should have been presented, not flickering across a screen or coming from a polite stranger. Just this, the two of you alone together, both of you looking like complete garbage and not even caring.

No, in that moment you were the two most beautiful creatures the Universe had ever made, painted so brightly in excitement and love that it was blinding. Din kissed your palms, his face already starting to bubble over with emotion. “I’m… I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Mhmm, now c’mere, give mama some sugar.” You hauled his beautifully wrecked face up to yours, kissing him deeply. His tongue was sloppy, needy, spearing into your mouth between groans of pleasure. You heard the fumble of buckles and zippers, then the flump of pants hitting the floor. His heavy cock bobbed against your belly, leaving kisses of precum above the womb it had filled. You rocked your hips, trying to notch him in your slick folds, but his fingers met your cunt again, scissoring you open.

“I said I wanted to take care of you, buir’ika.” He groaned into your mouth before disappearing down your body and burying his face between your legs. Din’s wicked tongue spun delicious circles around your engorged bean, slurping and sucking away as if it was the only thing he’d ever eat again. You were just starting to feel the knot tightening in your guts when his dutiful mouth slowed, licking experimentally into your cunt, humming curiously.

“Wh-what? What is it?” You panted, rocking your hips against him, trying to fuck yourself on his face.

“You taste different.” He caught your questioning groan and shook his head, the motion making you convulse with need. “Not bad different, just different. Sweeter.” There were a plethora of excuses you could have made, maybe it was that he’d just forgotten how you’d tasted, or maybe it was the fact that you’d been living on Imp food. It couldn’t possibly already be from your changing hormones.

Could it?

Nothing but cries of pleasure made their way past your lips when he dove back to his feast, pulsing his expert fingers against your core and spiraling you towards devastation. Locked to his face, you squirmed on his tongue until he brought you the stars, your pent-up orgasm soaking his scruff and dribbling down his chin. Greedily he lapped your arousal away, humming at the taste. You’d barely gotten a chance to catch your breath before he was rising to his feet, angling his throbbing cock up into you and stretching you full.

“Din!” You whined, your cries swallowed by his mouth on yours, letting you taste your own release. Shit he’s right, I do taste good! His kisses became messy, then lost all together, his head falling from yours to bury against the crook of your shoulder. His cock eased itself out, making you feel every ridge, every vein before it was slamming back into the cradle of your body, the sound of him fucking you resounding wetly throughout the hold.

“Riddur’ika” he moaned into your skin, sinking his sharp teeth into the meat of your neck to mark you as his once again; leaving a blooming patchwork of welts in his wake. With his teeth holding you in place he started giving you what you both so desperately needed, pounding deeply into your flooding cunt. Your walls clenched around him, making him groan and strain, his hips snapping with frantic, frenzied thrusts. It was all you could do to hold on.

Eyes closed, lips parted, head lolling back, you were consumed by his passion; digging your nails into the skin of his back and surely drawing blood. Under your fingertips his muscles coiled and bunched, rippling with each powerful thrust, his cock demanding to be swallowed whole.

Your weeping wellspring sucked up every inch of him, drawing him all the way inside to the gates of your precious womb. The head of his cock bumped haphazardly against your cervix, his length shifting the ring of muscle even deeper into your body, the delicious stretch making you obscenely wetter.

Releasing your captured throat, the Mandalorian leaned back from you, throwing your legs over his shoulders so that there was nothing to stop him from burying himself to the hilt. Each ragged thrust scraped his curls over your sensitive clit and sent his cock spearing into something devastating inside. You cried out from the force of it, your muscles squeezing around his girth as you were catapulted towards ecstacy’s edge.

“That’s it, mesh’la, soak my cock. Claim me as yours!” His oaken voice sent you spinning, obeying his command and drenching his swollen member in your divine nectar. He groaned at your fluttering muscles, your silken folds caressing him and drawing his own gushing orgasm from him. Under your calves you could feel him straining to keep from shouting the heavens down, his face contorted almost painfully while he painted your insides with rope after rope of hot, potent baby batter.

Broken panting echoed in the tiny space of the Razor Crest’s interior, carried by the wisps of desert air breezing in through the ventilation. Din fell heavily forward, his sweat-streaked chest just inches from your heaving breasts, barely giving you room to breathe. Slowly he sank further down, the skin of his abdomen sticking to your belly, then your chest, sealing you together. His hands found your face, brushing the hair from your sticky brow and planting a kiss there, paving the way for him to rest his forehead against yours in sacred unity.

Hot breath mingled in the space between your mouths, bringing with it the spice of lovers bodies, a mix of lust and sweat and adoration, flooding your synapses like an addiction. Though he would happily let himself melt into your body the threat of crushing you underneath him made his exhausted arms shake, especially now that you were harboring precious cargo.

He butted his head against yours once more before pulling himself upright, offering a hand to you. You took his gentle gesture, but the shift in gravity made your soaked cunt gush with your combined cum, oozing down the side of the crate and pooling on the floor. Din couldn’t help himself, his agile fingers sneaking down to your wrecked pussy, stretching it around his fingertips and watching his pearly conquest slip out of you.

Humming with adoration, Din took you by your elbows, careful not to upset your bandages, and hugged you close. The Mandalorian felt like a furnace pressed against you, trailing his fingers up and down your spine and giving you conflicting goosebumps. “You’re so beautiful, mesh’la.” He purred, nuzzling into your neck. “There can be no other as beautiful as you.”

“Yet.” You chided, turning to meet his confused eyes. Stealing one of his hands you pushed his palm to your belly, laughing when he put your puzzle together.

“Our baby…” He cooed, still mystified by the concept. “Our baby will be beautiful, and terrifying if their mother is anything to go by.”

“Rude.” you barked, tugging playfully on his ear. He chuckled, splaying his wide palms over your belly, rubbing tenderly and no doubt imagining you all full and round with his warriors, your breasts heavy with milk, your skin glowing. His spent cock twitched between you, making him flush red. You laughed at his thoughts clearly plastered across his face. “I wonder what they’ll be like, the child of an Imp and a Mand-”

“You are not an Imp.” He retorted with ruinous conviction. “That’s not who you are anymore. You proved that when you sank an entire star destroyer to protect the people of Tatooine.” His hands cupped your face, holding you where his big beautiful eyes could see you, really see you. “I’m sorry that I let your past blind me to how much I love you, but now I see you for who you really are.” He kissed your forehead again, a slow, meaningful kiss that conveyed all the words he couldn’t find. Stars glittered in his lashes when he met your eyes again. “You’re not an Imp, cyare, you are a Mandalorian.”

Some kind of noise busted its way out your throat, maybe a laugh, maybe a sob. Either way you were shaking your head. “Thank you, but I’m not a Mandalorian either according to the Jedi boy.”

“I don’t see why you can’t be both a Mandalorian and a Jedi. Your son is a gremlin and your husband is an ass. I think you can be whatever you want. What was it that he called you?”

“A Thunderfury!”

“A Thunderfury!” He waved his hand dramatically, his eyes shining bright. You snickered at his antics, the melodic sound inviting him to spin you around in his arms, your thighs slicking with lovespunk as you danced. Instantly you wanted the fresher, but your heels knocked against his belt on the floor, making something in the pockets jingle. Bending down, you rifled through the many pouches until you found the one that had your things: two krayt teeth, one blood-stained rag, a pair of beskar cuffs, and surprisingly one other item.

An aurodium insignia.

“This was the Admirals.” You groaned, turning the half-melted token over in the light. Disgust overwhelmed you, and for a moment you considered opening the ramp door and chucking the emblem out into the hangar. Peli could probably find a buyer for it, but another thought snuck its way into your frontal lobe, spreading a grin over your face. “How much beskar do you think this will buy me?”

Din’s brows nearly shot off into space. “The insignia of a high ranking Imperial officer that you slaughtered? As much as you want, a full set even, but what about the Jedi? He’s supposed to take you-”

“But daaaaaad, I need a new outfit for the first day of school! Besides, I can't show up saying I’m a mando when I don’t have any beskar! Also I think the scary sewer queen would kill you if you didn’t tell her we’re expecting.”

“You’re absolutely right, but you do have some beskar.” Din padded over to the armory, throwing munitions and gear out of the way until your faceplate was brought into the light. “I think this belongs to you.”

You took the beloved slab of steel gingerly, turning it over in your hands. Din found the beskar cuffs and lovingly set them over each of your ears. When you set the armor on your face, the visor automatically flashed to life, presenting you with a fireball of a man standing before you, his chest and cheeks burning scarlet. Rolling the iron to your crown, you grabbed the krayt fangs from the pile and handed them to him. “And these belong to you.”

The opalescent Impkillers looked tiny in his wide hands, their whitish shimmer almost glowing in the cabin light. He nodded and thanked you, sniffling back his emotions, trying to remain steadfast as though you couldn’t see right through him. His fingers tightened over the sharp teeth, their edges creasing his callouses. “I’m going to miss you while you’re away.”

Just like that your beautiful, illustrious moment was cast in a dark, cold shadow. “Away? You’re going with me, right?”

“I don’t know if I can. I’m not a sorcerer like you or Grogu, and I’ll have to do something to earn credits for the baby. You go to school, grow our child. I’ll find work, there’s always bount-”

“Woah woah woah. Abso-fuckin-lutely not! You’re coming with us! I’m not going through this pregnancy or my forcefuckery without you.”

“The boy flew an X-wing here, there’s not exactly room-”

“Then we’ll get the coordinates for the school and just… meet him there? You said you’re never leaving me behind again, well I’m not leaving you behind either, ya big fuckin’ jerk.”

“I don’t think he’s going to just give you that information. What makes you think you can convince him?”

“First of all, something tells me he’s desperate, and secondly,” You planted your feet wide, ignoring your sticky, cumsoaked thighs and jabbing your fists to your hips, beskar crown glittering like royalty and making Din realize that one of these days he was going to have to tell you that as an Alor’s wife, you were technically were.

“I’m Tra’laar, the Thunderfury!” You roared, channeling your Force power to make the Crest shake on it’s fat little legs. Dins wide eyes were a stark contrast to your beaming smile, but the sound of scratching and chirping caught your ears before either of you could say something.

The sleeping cubby’s drophatch slid out of the way, revealing the disheveled little baby. Grogu glared at the two of you, rubbing his squinty eyes and squeaking on about how you’d interrupted his beauty sleep. Giggling, you took the baby in your arms and sat down on the bed, cradling him against your bare chest. “Aw I’m sorry, Booger, I got carried away.”

Snuggling the child, you were surprised when Din came over to you with a warm washcloth, offering to clean his mess from your thighs. You held Grogu close so his eyes were covered while Din tended to your needs, gently wiping the evidence of your reforged bond away.

When you were as clean as he could get you, you thanked him and scooted back up the bed, resting your weary head on the bunched-up bantha wool at the back of the cubby. You cooed at the fussing baby. “Do you need a lullaby, sweetie? I need to practice before bucket-baby comes. Would that be ok?” Grogu’s enormous eyes seemed to light up even in the dark recess of the alcove, his little head bobbing with a nod.

“He’s missed your songs, cyare.” Din hummed, crawling into the bed with you, laying so that he faced you and his son. You shot him a cynical glance, but he didn’t shy away. “I’ve missed your songs as well. I-if your voice hurts too much, it’s fine, we can-”

“I’ve missed singing to you as well, and to your son.”

“Our son. Just like it will be our baby. I’ll never make that mistake again, you have my word, and should I ever break it again I want you to put a bullet in my skull.” You were about to protest that last line, but his stern glare told you he wasn’t joking, so you nodded, agreeing to his terms.

“Anything in particular you want me to sing for you, husband?”

He smiled, running his hand over your bandages until his fingers tangled with your own, dancing lightly over the foundling’s forehead. “There was one a long time ago, it was the very first one you ever sang to Grogu, before he even had a name. Something about a navigator?”

“Of course.” You played with his fingers and cleared your throat, dropping your voice into a low whisper like you’d done a hundred times before.

“Oh, I have sailed the midnight sea from Hoth to Arvala-5.

Seen the Cloudshape Falls of Alderaan, met rocks that were alive.

But soon I came to realize as world to world I roamed,

That nowhere in the galaxy could really be my home.”

Across from you Din’s eyes fluttered, fighting the pull of sleep so he could listen to you for as long as possible. You nestled closer to him until your foreheads bumped together, your faces curled towards the child that was already starting to drift back into his afternoon nap.

“So call the navigator, set the course and go!

We’ve stars and planets to explore, my wild heart tells me so.

Beneath the metal decking I can hear the engine sigh

And all I need is a mighty ship and a staaaa-aarr to guide her by.”

Neither of your boys made it to the last line, so overcome with stress-induced exhaustion that they were both sailing off to dreamland on the words of your song. Later you could find Mr. Sunshine and sort this whole Jedi nonsense out, but regardless of what the stranger wanted you weren’t going anywhere if Din couldn’t be by your side, the two of you having already suffered enough apart, missing your soulmates.

No, come what may, your clan of three, soon four, would not be splitting up again. Come hell or high water, you were in this together.

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TAGLIST

@mrsparknuts @cookiejuicedesu @kaermorons @ironbabey @theflightytemptressadventure @emesispo @what-iwish-youknew @misscamptl @t3a-bag @poppunkdee @misscamptl @pandastasia @simpingmess @lilychristine01 @inaturenymph @buttercup--bee @blackd0gdesignuk @tanzthompson @transientblueseraph @jasmincita @sunnnygiiirl123 @beskarboobs @doin-stuff @marvelranger

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #bargaining with beskar #bwb

[aureostuff]

Anger Issues

Brothers with an MC who has anger issues, cusses like a sailor and is also very strong, but is very supportive and caring.

Gender Neutral Reader

Lucifer

He can get quite annoyed with you at times since your outbursts tend to lead you to breaking anything within a five kilometer radius, and that includes his brothers.

He’ll have to lock you up in your room to prevent anything else from breaking. 

Sometimes when you get REALLY angry at him, you’ll end up swearing at him so fucking hard that Satan would literally be cheering you on.

“Lucifer you motherfucking son of a bitch where the FUCK is my Limited-Edition Vinyl Box Set?!” “MC, what did you just call me?”

This man will not accept being called a ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, remember he’s the avatar of pride. He will not take your insult well. It also turns out that he accidentally broke it.

Though you insulted him that badly over your broken Vinyl box set, you still care for him as usual. Scolding him for having a shitty work and sleep schedule. Insisting that he could get more work done rested well. (though you’d prefer if he worked less and spent more time with you)

Mammon

Is fucking scared of you, but also fucking in love with you. He’d even sacrifice the things he’s bought that were so fucking expensive, for you to use it as a stress reliever. 

Story time, when Mammon tried to escape Levi and use you as a sacrifice. You’d literally grab his jackets collar, and said to him. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Are you that scared of some scrawny-ass bitch?”

Sadly, he managed to get away. 

There are cute moments between you two at times. Like how you are literally helping him get over his immense fear of Lucifer and telling him to ‘man up’ and you also encourage him to stand up to the people who bully him, like a real man.

“Listen here Mammon, you gotta stop letting your lil’ brothers bullying you. You are literally the second strongest, act like it! You’ve gotta stop acting like a pussy!”

All I can say is you’re making progress, just very slowly.

Leviathan 

Remember how I said that you called Levi a ‘scrawny-ass bitch’? He was very offended by that, but couldn’t help but accept it as the truth since he is what you’d call a ‘Slim-Jim’

He’ll yell at you, saying that was offensive. And he couldn’t help it since he was a disgusting shut-in Otaku.

“Who the fuck told you you could degrade yourself huh? I see nothing wrong with how you are you fucking dumbass!”

He’ll be crying tears of gratitude, but he’ll quickly wipe them away and get down to business to defeat, the Huns.

He’ll invite you to play video games with him (specifically games like Super Smash Demons) just to see your angered reaction when he wins. He’ll find it amusing and scary at the same time. It was funny to watch the loser rage when you won. And it was scary because unlike the times when he watched the losers rage, the loser, was RIGHT beside him, and could literally put him in the hospital. 

Whenever he calls himself a gross disgusting otaku, etc. you will literally smack him and swear at him very heavily, yelling at him to stop calling himself that. 

Satan

You think the avatar of wrath, ANGER INCARNATE, would get along with you, A LITERAL TICKING TIME BOMB THAT’S ABOUT TO EXPLODE. Well you are sorely mistaken. 

You guys would literally be the best the best of buddies. No doubt about that. You both would go to libraries (and proceed to get kicked out because of how loud you are), go to art museums to admire art. (and proceed to get kicked out because you’re being too loud and disturbing the other people who are trying to admire the art).

He’ll vent to you about his daddy issues problems with Lucifer. And you’ll gladly help him vent out all his pent up anger. “Listen here Satan. The best way to vent your anger is through violence, so if you don’t want to beat somebody to a bloody pulp, now’s your chance to do so.” when you told him that he was like: dude wtf is wrong with you. Then you told him that he could just use a punching bag. 

So yay! He can let out all his anger AND get ripped! Nice. He can use his (soon to arrive) muscles to crack Lucifer’s head open, yipee!!!

Though sometimes you get angry at Satan and vice versa. You two’ll get into fights and the room you two were fighting will be absolutely DEMOLISHED. Satan would be in demon form- no joke, he will be in his fucking demon form. 

You will both be incredibly bloody and beat up, that the brothers wont be able to recognize you. Apart from those ‘small’ fights, you both are very good friends and always look out for each other.

Asmodeus 

He’ll be telling you that being that angry will make you look like an old person, ew! 

Honestly in my opinion, he’ll be the person you’ll complain about your (small) problems to the most. He’ll be painting your nails and you’ll be like: “Dude, Beel ate the fucking food I ordered from Akudonalds! I was fucking starving and Beel just had to come along and eat it.”  “I get what you mean darling, one time Beel ate the limited edition perfume I had bought and was going to use on my date with this hot succubus.” 

Whenever he’ll take a pic with you, you’ll always look angry or be mid-shout in said pic. 

The replies on that photo would fall into one of three categories: a. They’re mainly focusing on Asmo, b. They would be laughing at your face or c. They’d be asking on who the fuck you were.

Asmo would reply to one of the comments in category c telling them: “He’s my significant other ofc~~”

You could always sense whenever he was feeling insecure, so being the good friend you are, you pull up a chair, and have a talk with Asmo.

Beelzebub

Your strong? Well now you’re Beelzebub’s gym buddy yayyyyyy.

Ninety percent of gym equipment is broken since you get a bit too angry, and Lucifer is going to give you one heck of a scolding. 

Beel will eat your food (he’s the avatar of gluttony, what’d you expect), then you’d literally be throwing hands with this giant.

“BEELZEBUUUUUUUUUUUB, HOW DARE YOU EAT THE FOOD I’VE BEEN WAITING TO ARRIVE FOR A LITERAL FUCKING HOUR.”

He’ll feel sorry and try to make it up to you, he’ll give you food, more food, even more food. Till there’s a mountain of his stash of food (plus the food from the fridge) right outside your door, he would literally wait outside your door, starving, as he’s waiting for you to go outside.

When you do go outside, you’ll spot Beel, hugging his knees, most likely asleep. You’ll sigh and grab some of the food on the pile and made your way towards the man. You grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head up. Beel would yawn and blink twice, then he’ll see your face. “MC... I’m sorry about your food...” you sighed. “Don’t worry about it Beel, now eat this shit. I know you’re hungry.”

Belphegor 

When he tried to kill you, your first thoughts were: Aight, time to kick this guy in the family jewels

And that you did. 

Though you still died, so your efforts were all in vain, and then you came back to life. You literally charged at him and pinned him to the ground, shouting profanities as the brothers tried to get you off of him. 

Honestly, you guys really wouldn’t get along that well. If he’s going to try to sleep, one way or another you’re going to stroll in arguing with one of his brothers. You were yelling loudly and swearing a bit too much that it caused Belphie to wake up, which in itself is an impossible achievement since Belphegor could literally sleep through an entire building construction even if it was all happening right beside him.

He’d be pissed that you woke him up, and then you’d forget your previous argument and focus on the one you currently having with the Avatar of Sloth.

He’ll be very happy when he sees you have fights with Lucifer, because nobody in their right mind would dare shout curse words and punch him in the gut, apart from him and Satan of course. When Lucifer locks you up in your room, he’ll make an attempt to help you escape your prison if he’s feeling generous. 

#obey me #obey me x reader #swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons

[hyeonbun]

gone

↠ prompt; you listen to her song after the breakup 

↠ group; blackpink

↠ pairings; rosé x female reader (main), jennie x female reader

↠ genre; angst

↠ content; a breakup with no happy ending

↠ word count; 3.2k

“Hey baby.” Chaeyoung greets you by putting her arms around your waist and giving you a back hug. “Whatcha doing?” She says in a sing-song voice while resting her head on your shoulder. You couldn’t help but smile at how cute she is.

“Just getting a few textbooks out of my locker.” You answer while pulling out two books that were buried in the back of your locker. Once you were done getting the stuff you needed for your homework out of your locker, you close it shut and put your bookbag back on your shoulders. It was the end of the school day and you couldn’t wait to leave this depressing place.

“Yay! Let’s go!” Chaeyoung claps excitedly and grabs your hand so that you could hold hands while walking down the halls. As you are walking you notice your best friend Jennie, who appears to be upset. She accidentally makes eye contact with you and then quickly looks away. Although you were confused, you decided to just brush it off anyways because she was probably just having a bad day.

…

“So what are we going to do for this project?” You ask Chaeyoung, followed by a long sigh. Neither of you were looking forward to this project considering it is worth half of your final grade.

“I’m already stressed out. How about we take a little break first?” Chaeyoung suggests and you notice the mischievous smile on her face.

“But we haven’t even started yet.” You interject, already anticipating her next move.

“I know. We can worry about it later.” She assures you, causing you to nod in response. She grabs you by the hand with a smirk on her face and leads you over to her bed.

Chaeyoung motions you to lay down, and you follow her command. Your face starts to heat up as she straddles you and she notices how flustered you are. The look in her eyes tells you everything that’s going on in her mind. Next thing you know, her face gets closer to yours and she’s pressing her lips against your lips. You feel her smile into the kiss which subconsciously causes you to do the same.

The kiss deepens as she slips her tongue past your lips. Your hands end up tangled in her hair while one of her hands slides up the bottom of your shirt. Your tongues battle for dominance and you can feel yourself melting at her touch. In this moment, all you wanted was her. 

“Hey bestie!” Lisa enthusiastically says while barging into the room. She stops in her tracks after seeing the both of you. You and Chaeyoung look at her like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh… I think I interrupted something… I’ll leave you guys to it then.” Lisa continues as she awkwardly starts backing out of the room and closes the door behind her. 

“I forgot that she has a key to my house.” Chaeyoung mentions with a horrified look on her face. “I also probably should have told her that we were working on a project today.” You simply nod in response, still embarrassed by the whole situation.

“Maybe we should get back to working on the project now.” You comment and she nods in agreement.

…

After returning home later that night, you check your phone to see a few missed texts from Jennie.

J: We need to talk

J: Please facetime me when you get the chance

You read the texts over again and ponder the situation. You had no idea what these messages could be about. Jennie has never randomly sent you texts with a serious tone like this before. You tap on her contact and hesitate for a few seconds but ultimately decide to press the facetime button.

Jennie picks up almost immediately, looking extremely distraught. You notice she has bags under her eyes and her mascara is all smudged. She hurriedly wipes away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. You give her a sympathetic look and she takes a deep breath before speaking.

“I really don’t know how to say this.” She admits and begins fidgeting with her hands.

“I promise you can tell me anything, it’s okay.” You try to comfort her, earning a sniffle in response. You watch her attentively as she looks down at her lap before deciding to speak again.

“Well… I-I’m in love with you. I feel really guilty for doing this right now because you are in a relationship with Chaeyoung but I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had to let it out. I’m sorry.” She confesses and instantly ends the call, leaving you to stare at her contact in total shock. 

After all this time, you couldn’t believe that the person you’ve had a crush on for the past four years just confessed to you. It came out of nowhere. At this moment, you didn’t know how to feel. You felt everything and nothing simultaneously. Deep down, you had feelings for Jennie this whole entire time. None of this was making sense because you were almost 100% positive that she didn’t like you back. As much as you love Chaeyoung, you knew you couldn’t deny the way Jennie has made you feel all of these years. 

The more and more you thought about this situation the more it hit you. You felt sick to your stomach with anxiety. Jennie liked you all along. After all, she was always there to help you and look out for you when you needed it the most. 

Memories start resurfacing and you start feeling even more overwhelmed. There was that one time where you decided to go to a party and got blackout drunk and she made sure you were safe the entire time and even took you home. You also remember that time you had a midterm exam where you knew none of the content and she went out of her way to help you study so you would pass. A year ago when you got your heart absolutely broken by one of your exes, she consoled you and was a shoulder to cry on.

As you look back on all of your memories with Jennie, it felt like you fell in love with her all over again. After burying your feelings for her for so long, they only came back stronger. You can’t help but to feel guilty now that you know she likes you back. Your phone vibrates in your hand and you brace yourself before looking at it.

C: goodnight baby i love you sososo much ❤

Your heart drops as you read the text from your girlfriend. Why did this situation have to be so complicated? You wonder why Jennie couldn’t just confess before when you were actually single. Now you just feel extremely guilty for thinking about being with Jennie.

You: goodnight i love you too 😊

You set your phone down on the table next to your bed and let out a deep sigh. Maybe you should just go to sleep. You hope that this is some kind of messed up dream and that when you wake up none of it will have happened and you’ll feel normal again. You get ready for bed and lay down. Your anxiety keeps you up for a little bit longer than expected, but eventually you drift off into sleep. 

...

Your obnoxiously loud alarm wakes you up in the morning. As much as you want to hit snooze, you realize you have to pick Chaeyoung up and take her to school with you. Suddenly the memories of last night hit you out of nowhere. You remember what Jennie said and you just now realize that you didn’t even send her a message after. To be fair, you had no idea what to tell her. How would you tell her that you liked her back while being in a relationship with Chaeyoung? Reluctantly, you got ready for the day and grabbed your bookbag.

You: i’ll be there in 5

You watch as Chaeyoung walks out the door and happily skips towards your car. She gets in your car and cutely smiles at you. An intense feeling of guilt washes over you, but you force a smile back at her anyways. You spend most of the car ride thinking about the situation and you don’t even realize it until Chaeyoung speaks up. 

“What’s wrong?” Chaeyoung asks out of concern, noticing you’ve been silent the whole time. “It’s not like you to be this quiet.” She adds on, causing you to become increasingly nervous.

“I promise it’s nothing serious.” You lie with a hint of sadness laced in your voice.

“Are you sure?” She questions after hearing your tone. “You know you can always talk to me about anything.” She reassures you, yet it only makes you feel worse.

The truth is you are in love with Jennie and Chaeyoung has no idea. You didn’t have a plan for how you were going to resolve the situation. On one hand you’ll break Jennie’s heart, but on the other you’ll break Chaeyoung’s heart. You knew it had to be one or the other. There was no way you could talk to Chaeyoung about it because you know that will break her. 

“Yeah I’m sure.” You answer, and notice her slowly nodding in response. After what feels like forever, you both finally arrive at school. Chaeyoung holds your hand as the two of you walk through the doors and through the halls. 

While walking past, you glance over at Jennie’s locker and feel your stomach drop. You notice Jisoo hugging Jennie as she cries into the older girl’s shoulder. Jisoo was trying to console her. You know exactly why she is crying and you know that it’s all your fault. You should have sent her a message. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” You accidentally mutter out loud, causing Chaeyoung to quickly turn her head to look at you. 

“Can’t do what anymore?” She questions with furrowed eyebrows. You feel all the color drain from your face.

“This relationship. I’m sorry.” You burst out impulsively, completely shocked by your own words. You begin to panic so you immediately bolt to the nearest restroom.

Once inside, you let out a huge sigh and aggressively throw your bookbag on the floor out of anger. You couldn’t believe that you just did that, it completely slipped out of your mouth. You sit down on the bathroom floor and place your head in your hands. Your anxiety starts to take over once you realize that not only have you caused Jennie to cry so much but now you just broke Chaeyoung’s heart. Tears begin to fall from your eyes. 

The door suddenly bursts open, causing you to jump in your spot. Of course it was the last person you needed to see right now. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jennie cries out in confusion and takes a seat next to you on the floor.

“I just broke up with Chaeyoung.” You completely break down while hiding your face in your arms. 

“Oh no… why did you do that?” Jennie asks followed by some sniffles. “You didn’t have to do that. I didn’t expect any of this to happen. I feel awful now.” She rambles while sobbing. 

Instinctively, you put your arm around her and pull her closer to you. She lays her head on your shoulder and your heart flutters despite all of the heavy guilt. The both of you stay just like that for a while, crying in silence. The bell for class rings but neither of you dare to move. 

“I’m sorry for not messaging you last night.” You speak up after minutes of silence. “I saw you crying in the hallway when I came in and it hit me.”

“Honestly, I was just an anxious mess. I was crying mainly because I regretted doing that. I also felt selfish because I knew you had a girlfriend but decided to confess to you anyways. It also struck me that you didn’t like me back.” She admits her feelings with a sigh.

“Who said I didn’t like you back?” You ask, causing her to go silent for a few moments.

“Do you like me back?” She questions and moves her head from your shoulder to look at you. 

“Yes. I’ve liked you this whole time, since the day we met.” You confess while looking in her eyes.

“Is that why you broke up with Chaeyoung?” She asks for confirmation and you nod your head in response. “So what now?” She wonders, causing you to shrug your shoulders.

You make eye contact with her and notice the way she is looking at you. There is nothing but love and admiration in her eyes. Both of you get lost in each other’s eyes and in the moment. One thing leads to another and she closes her eyes and starts leaning in, so you do the same and your lips connect.  

You felt so many overwhelmingly good feelings at once. Not only was your heart pounding out of your chest but there were also butterflies in your stomach. This was absolute bliss. She eventually pulls away and looks at you with that heartwarming smile. Her contagious smile causes you to smile too. 

…

A few hours pass and you dreadfully enter the class you share with Chaeyoung. You feel so guilty and you know that seeing each other’s face would cause so much pain for the both of you. Minutes pass and the bell rings, yet Chaeyoung has still not walked through the door. For the entire duration of the class, you anxiously watch the door but she never shows up. Extreme guilt hits you again as you realize she ditched class because that is something she has never done. 

Before you know it, the school day is finally over and you somehow made it through. You walk to your locker to grab a few things although you already planned on doing nothing school-related for the rest of the day.

“What happened with Chaeyoung?” Jisoo suddenly approaches you, searching for answers.

“I could ask the same thing. She never showed up to the class I have with her.” You nervously inform her, trying to avoid the actual question at all costs. Jennie didn’t mention anything that happened between the two of you to Jisoo which is odd.

“Well earlier this morning before class started she ran out the doors crying. Everyone watched her.” Jisoo tells you, making your anxiety act up.

You start to assume the worst of this situation. Right now she’s probably somewhere crying her heart out all because of your selfishness. Earlier when she ran out crying, you were busy kissing and talking to Jennie. This realization made you feel like an awful person. However,  you were filled with so many conflicting feelings that it felt like there was no right answer. You didn’t realize you were lost in your thoughts until you noticed Jisoo looking at you expectantly.

“Who drove her home?” You ask her hesitantly, not knowing whether she knew the answer.

“I assume Lisa did. Lisa didn’t show up to any of the classes we have together but I saw her earlier this morning.” Jisoo answers and you simply nod your head in response. 

…

When you got home later on, you debated whether or not you should talk to Chaeyoung. You knew that it would probably make things worse if you did. Not only were the emotions and tension high, but you also knew that you were the last person she’d want to talk to right now. After staring at her contact picture for a few minutes, you decide against it and set your phone down. You lay on your bed and instantly get reminded of yesterday and how happy the both of you were while making out. You had no idea how you’d ever feel better about this situation or how you would get over it.

…

A month has passed since your break up with Chaeyoung and things have changed drastically. You’re currently the happiest you’ve ever been with your girlfriend, Jennie. All of the guilty feelings and emotional wounds have since healed and disappeared. Nowadays, you have no idea how Chaeyoung feels because you haven’t talked to her since the day you broke up. You eventually realized that there was no time to dwell on the past so you stopped worrying about her. 

It was currently lunchtime and you sat down at your usual spot at the lunch table in the corner. Since you were early, you watched as everyone else poured into the cafeteria. You see Jisoo sprinting over to your table and you assume she’s just eager to eat her lunch, but she has no lunch with her. 

“You need to see this right now.” Jisoo declares out of breath while shoving her phone into your hand. 

You look at the screen and realize it’s a three minute video that includes Chaeyoung and her guitar. Hesitantly, you unpause the video and you were not prepared at all for what was about to come. 

I thought that you remember

but it seems that you forgot

It’s hard for me to blame you

when you were already lost oh yeah

Your heart sinks from hearing the pain in her voice as she sings.

I gave you all of me now you don’t

Want to be involved oh yeah yeah

I really gotta face it oh yeah yeah

It was only the beginning of the song but you didn’t know how much more you could handle.

I just wanna be the one

But to you we’re already done

Tell me why’d you have to hit and run me

Now I’m all alone crying ugly

You broke my heart just for fun

Took my love and just left me numb

All the painful feelings were starting to resurface. Finally hearing her side made you realize how much you hurt her. 

Another story that’s sad and true

I can feel the pain can you

You had to be the one to let me down

To color me blue

There was no denying that the song was definitely about you.

Hate to see you with someone new

I’ll put a curse on her and you

Ain’t no looking back

Now you’re dead and gone

My love is gone too

She knew that Jennie was the reason you broke up with her.

All my love is gone

All my love is gone

All my love is gone

All my love is gone

Now you’re dead and gone

You feel more and more anxious as the song goes on.

All my love is gone

And the hate has grown

Standing all alone and

I’m searching for something

But I can’t feel nothin’

I pack my bags and go

You broke her. You are the reason she feels this way. All because of your selfishness.

This don’t feel like home

Too much darkness for a rainbow

I feel so used

How am I supposed to live without you

I refuse yeah

Although you feel guilty, you can’t help but notice those last two lines especially. You begin to wonder if she still loves you deep down. As the last few verses were sung and the song ended, you didn’t even notice the tears falling down your cheeks until Jisoo points it out. All the progress you made was destroyed. 

You broke her heart and you were just going to have to live with that fact.

#blackpink scenarios #girl group scenarios #rosé scenarios #rosé scenario #kpop scenarios #imagine #blackpink #rosé #park chaeyoung #blackpink rosé #rose scenarios #rose #blackpink rose #rose scenario #blackpink imagines #rose imagines #rosé imagines

[justcallmenikki7]

BTS Reaction To: Drunk Mafia BTS

Summary: your mafia boyfriend gets drunk and shows a different side to them.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, crack, alcohol consumption, mean!Namjoon, crying!Jungkook, mentions of sexual undertones, cute but annoying drunk Hoseok, mafia!au (but not really mentioned mafia), emotional Yoongi who needs readers love and reassurance, cute Jimin.

W.C.: 2.4k

Request: hi!! can you do a drunk bts mafia reaction?

Notes: Like I’ve said before, I love Mafia requests.

Jin:

You knew that you should not have left Jin alone with his brothers for thirty minutes.

You knew that leaving his side so you can go and talk to Jisoo about girl stuff, leaving Jin unattended with his brothers, especially the maknae when there is alcohol involved was a no-go. But you did it anyways, so now you are here – dealing with a flirty Jin who has one too many drinks in his system.

“You’re so pretty,” Seokjin cooed, body weight leaning into yours as you walked him to the car. “But!” He announced loudly, shocking you. “I haves a girlfriend, ACTUALLY! A fiancée. So, my compliments need to stop. I-It’s just that you look so much like her, that it is uncanny.” He rambled. “You even have the same, comfy, soft boobs! Are you her doppelganger?” Seokjin asked with a curious voice – a voice that does not suit his mafia boss persona.

Laughing at his question, “No, Jinnie, I’m Y/N. The actual her.” Mouth dropping wide in astonishment, “No way! Baby!” He yelled, flying into you, sending the both of you to the ground. But even in his drunken state, his reflexes still worked, and he turned you guys around to where he took the beating of the ground while you fell onto his chest. “Ooo, I like this position,” he said cheekily, smiling up at you.

“Of course, you do, you drunk.” You chuckled, “Now, get up. We need to get your drunk ass home.”

Yoongi:

The sound of breaking glass was what caught your attention from the book you were reading. Closing the book, you put it aside to see if the sound would repeat again, which it did. The breaking glass was coming from above you, which is where your boyfriend’s office was. Standing up, you quietly, but quickly, made your way up the stairs, slowly hearing the curses and angry words coming from your boyfriends’ mouth. Once you got to the office door, you quietly knocked on the door, silencing all of the commotion on the other side of the door.

The door opened, showing the distressed man in front of you. Trying to hide his tears, he turned around and made his way over to his desk, silently telling you that you can come in.

“Yoongi, what’s wrong?” You asked softly, walking up behind him, putting a few feet between you guys.

“Nothing. Why do you ask?” He replied, being short with you.

Spotting the bottle of whisky on his desk, you connected the dots that he is stressed since whisky is his escape drink.

“Well,” you started off, “There’s broken glass on the floor from you throwing it, whisky on the desk, and you’re obviously crying. So, something is wrong.”

“Wow, why would you ask me since you apparently know what’s going on.” He snapped, turning around to look at you, eyes blank.

Taking a few steps back, you coiled in on yourself by his harshness. Realizing that he wants you to leave him alone, you respected his wishes. “I’ll leave you alone then. I just wanted to check up on you.” You bowed, turning around and leaving.

Before you could walk out the door, you felt a soft grip on your arm, pulling you back.

“Please don’t leave.” Yoongi asked, voice raspy. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Not saying anything, you pulled your boyfriend into a hug. Your actions caused your boyfriend to breakdown, shocking you at the sight. The most dangerous man in the underworld, the one who scares the law itself, was falling apart in your arms for a reason you do not know.

Hoseok:

“And a BOOP!”

Trying to stay calm, you watched the finger – for the twentieth time – come in contact with your nose. Your eyebrow twitched from irritation. Surprisingly you were keeping your composure really well. You were not blowing up on your boyfriend yet.

But the thing that you do not get is how the man who can kill a person with a smile on his face, not even flinching, can act so childish and love messing with your nose whenever he is drunk.

It is like trying to figure out how many licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll.

“Your nose is so cute!” Hoseok squealed, face moving close to you, breaking your personal bubble boundary, “It has a little arch to it!” He added, a squeal evident in his tone.

That was a new one, you concluded.

“Can I run my finger over your nose?” He asked, voice innocent.

Releasing a sigh, a sigh that seemed to be very offensive that Hoseok took to heart. “Are you mad at me?” He sniffled, looking away to hide his face.

“No, Hobi.” You reassured softly, “I’m just getting a little irritated, but I am not mad at you, I promise.”

Sniffles growing louder, you realized that you messed up.

“I’M ANNOYING YOU?!”

Fuck.

Before you could say anything else, your body was met with the couch while your boyfriends body was thrown on top of yours. ‘I’m sorries’ were spewing out of his mouth rapidly, body shaking from the sobs racking over his body.

“Yes! You can run your finger over my nose.” You said, hoping it will calm him down.

As if a light switch was turned off, your boyfriend immediately stopped crying, a huge smile gracing his face. “Yay! Thank you!” His finger running over your nose, face morphed into a concentrated look.

Namjoon:

When you walked into your home, your sense of smell was met with alcohol – mainly whiskey and cigars.

“Oh no,” you whispered to yourself, preparing yourself for what was possibly going to happen.

Namjoon is drunk by now, and this only happens when he is overly stressed, or in need of an outlet for his anger. So, a drunk Namjoon equals an angry drunk Namjoon. You have only seen this side of him just once, and it was not pretty.

You did not speak to Namjoon for a week because of it.

He promised you he would not seek comfort from alcohol ever again – but he broke his promise.

Walking into the living room, you found your boyfriend sitting in the single sofa chair, the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone, showing the caramel skin of his chest. But his beautiful sight was ruined when you saw the whiskey bottle sitting on the side table with the cigar on the ash tray, and a glass of whiskey in his ring clad hand.

“I am surprised you have not started yelling yet,” Namjoon mocked, interrupting your train of thought. “Last time I drank, you freaked out on me.”

Taken aback by his words, “I didn’t freak out on you? Plus, I am not going to now. I am curious on why you are drinking, whiskey especially.”

“Oh, so am I not allowed to drink certain alcoholic drinks?” He asked, sarcasm and mockery laced in his words. “Wow, you’re more controlling than I thought.”

You could feel your heart break at his words, eyes stinging from the tears that are wanting to spill. “Wow. Um, okay.” You said, not knowing what words to use. You were beating yourself up mentally from how weak you are and your inability to stand up for yourself. So, choosing the cowardly way out, you turned around and made your way to the guess room that was in your house, locking the door and hiding yourself in there.

Jimin:

Sitting at the booth in the bar, you listened to your best friend Yoonji vent about her and Namjoon’s relationship.

Tonight, was club night with the boys.

Having a boyfriend who is a mafia boss that owns his own private club was awesome, especially during parties. Not having to pay and wait in line was awesome, drinks and food was free, and the best of all – sitting in the VIP section away from the drunk people.

“I just wish that he would make more time for me,” Yoonji stressed, eyes tearing up. “I feel so alone sometimes…” She trailed off, taking a gulp from his glass.

A frown was on your face, watching your friend cry was one of the worst things ever. Before you could add your opinion in, you felt a body that was all too familiar fall on top of you. A pair of lips attached theirs to yours, shocking you from the abruptness.

“My Love!” Your boyfriend announced, a drunken grin of his face, cheeks tinted red from the alcohol he has been drinking. “I have missed you so MUCH!” He stated, lips now turned downwards.

“I’ve missed you too, Jiminie.” You replied back, honesty laced in your words. “But, I’m talking with Yoonji here,” you motioned towards your friend, your boyfriends head whipping around quickly to look at her.

“Ooops! I’m sorry Yoonji!” He apologized truthfully, head turning back towards you. “Is it okay if I lay my head on your lap while you talk with Yoonji? My head hurts, and I PROMISE! I won’t speak of anything that you guys say to Namjoon!” He promised, sticking his pinky in the air towards you.

“Wait, what?” Yoonji asked in shock. “How do you know we are talking about Namjoon?”

“Cause silly! You just admitted to it,” Jimin giggled, already making himself comfortable on your lap. “Plus, the both of you came in upset, so it’s kinda obvious that you two are arguing.”

And that was the last thing your boyfriend said before he was lulled into a deep sleep.

Looking up at Yoonji, you gave her an apologetic smile. “Jimin’s extra blunt when he’s drunk?”

Taehyung:

As you conversed with your boyfriend’s gang members girlfriends, you could feel the heavy stare on your back from your boyfriend. You knew that you looked hot – thanks to the constant compliments and love that your boyfriend gives you everyday has helped with your self love. Wearing a sexy, but appropriate dress to the ball that was thrown by an ally mafia gang was a good idea because it was messing with your boyfriend. You knew the little things that riled up your boyfriend of three years – and this dress was one of them; especially when he had alcohol in his system.

“Um, Y/N?” Madison, Jungkook’s girlfriend of seven months spoke, catching your attention.  

“Hm?”

“Taehyung is I think glaring at you,” She said nervously.

Smiling at her innocence, “Oh, is he?” You asked, turning around to look at your boyfriend who just finished downing his glass of wine. When the two of you made eye contact you gave him a gentle smile and he winked at you. You could see that he has had a lot to drink due to the flush of his cheek and aura that he was giving off.

“He literally has been undressing you with his eyes all night.” Suri commented, bringing a blush to your cheeks from her bluntness.

“And you are right,” Taehyung admitted, surprising you from his sudden appearance. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, head ducking down to nuzzle into your neck. His breath smelt like alcohol and cigarettes as he pressed kisses to you neck. “You’ve looked so beautiful all night that I got turned on.”

“You’ve smoked a cigarette?!” You yelled, shocking the girls and Taehyung.

“What? No, baby—”

“Do not ‘baby’ me,” your voice came out deadly. “You told me you quit!” You accused, glaring at your boyfriend who looked scare, something that you will later laugh at since he is the biggest mafia boss in the world.

“I did. I just had two with Jackson and Namjoon!”

Not wanting to make a bigger scene, you walked away with a nervous and apologetic Taehyung.

“He’s totally not getting anything tonight,” Suri chuckled into his cup of wine.

“$20 he is,” Jisoo, Jimin’s friend had bet.

“You’re so on.”

Jungkook:

“Ugh, another fucking voicemail,” Jungkook grumbled drunkenly. “Y/N, this is my hundredth voicemail, when will you answer? Please answer. I’m sorry that I snapped and scared you. I know that I acted out irrationally during the argument. You’re right, I am childish and short tempered, but that doesn’t give me the excuse to say what I said and act how I acted. Wait? Did I say that right? hopefully because I want to make this right with you. I love you, Y/N, and I know that I have a suckish way of showing it, but I do. You’re the light in the darkness that I live in. never would I have thought of meeting you, meeting love in this Mafia world. I just want, need, you back, baby. Please come back to me,” Jungkook stopped, the sobs taking over him. The scary realization of losing you might be coming true. “Please give me one more chance to make this right.”

And with that, he hung up.

On the other side of the city, you listened to the voicemail that Jungkook had sent to you, tears streaming down your face and blurring your vision, your mind already being made up. Putting on a bra and shoes, you grabbed your purse and made your way to Jungkook’s mansion. When you pulled up, you were met with Phil and Leo at the gate. The two guards gave you smile, relief filling their eyes.

Walking into the mansion, you were met with a disastrous living room that had glass and frames on the carpet. A sigh escaped your lips as you realized that you had of fixing up to do.

“I am this drunk that I am imagining you standing right in front of me?” Jungkook asked, scaring your soul out of your body it felt like.

“It’s actually me, Kook.” You giggled, eyes tearing up at the relieved look in Jungkook’s eyes.

One minute his was on the stairs and the next he was squeezing you into his chest.

“You’re back,” he croaked. “Thank God, you’re back to me.”

#bts mafia reaction #bts mafia imagine #bts mafia #mafia!jin #mafia!jungkook #mafia!yoongi #mafia!hoseok #mafia!taehyung #mafia!namjoon #mafia!jimin #kim seokjin imagine #jin imagine #min yoongi imagine #yoongi imagine #jung hoseok imagine #hoseok imagine #kim namjoon imagine #namjoon imagine #park jimin imagine #jimin imagine #kim taehyung imagine #taehyung imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook imagine #bts v #bts agust d #bts suga #bts jhope #bts rm #bts jin

[kareniliana]

Enzo: “A werewolf in state penitentiary”

A//N: Okay so I decided to get high and just write. After having an almost 2 hour long ft call w my sister who literally is down the hall from my room 😂

So.. okay I know I sound lame, but I need some new friends. Idk, I just feel like recently my friend circle is limited to my sister and my sisters two friends. Like they’re not actually my friends, but pity friends.

yeah I'm lame I know.

hope you are able to forget what I just wrote and enjoy this Enzo imagine. Fair warning, it’s gonna get real sad and messed up. I hope you can keep up..

xx Karebear 💛🧸

You met Enzo a few years after he escaped from the school with a torture chamber, by the time he met you he had wanted nothing with romance or love. He wanted to just live free. But then he met you, and it was like a new book to be written. 

And a love story was written indeed. He had fallen for you almost too quick. As for you, you were reluctant to even be friends with him. You were a werewolf, sure you haven't triggered your curse yet but you still have the gene. You had to be wary about who you make friends with, a few wrong words and you’ll go full wolf. But with Enzo, he was basically unbreakable. Aside from the fact that he can't step in the sun with the daylight ring, or he can’t touch the vervain flower, or go into houses without permission, oh and a werewolf bite will kill him a painful and slow death.

So yeah, there's that. 

However, he was always there to justify your anger and help you release it without murdering anyone. He became your rock, then you graduated college and was going off to live in New York and be a publisher. 

But that plan became the back burner. You put pause on your life, because you did in fact trigger your curse. In the most shameful way possible. You got into a fight with someone at a party, with Enzo not there to calm you down you  into your car and angrily driving back to the shared house with your friends. 

You weren’t thinking straight, your were drunk and angry. 

You never made it home, wondering into the other lane, the other car swerved and slammed on the breaks. You jerked the wheel, drifting your car to face the opposite way. Their car didn’t even scratch yours, but it drifted into a tree. The car was totaled. 

Instantly sobering up, your panting was the only thing you heard. The music was background noise, you barely even noticed it. Quickly you undid your seatbelt, instantly calling Enzo as you ran to the car.

The windows were shattered, the car had shrunk in size. Most of the hood was in the tree. The man in the drivers seat was basically choking on his own blood. His seat trapped him against the steering wheel, it dug deep into the man chest. The glass had cut his face and arms, blood seeped his wardrobe.

You tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. You screamed into the air out of frustration.

Enzo answered your call happily, he was in route to your house.“Y/n, I’m coming by to pick you up- Enzo!” You interrupted him.

“Enzo! I messed up, hurry! He’s hurt. He- he needs your blood! Hurry!” You screamed into your phone, almost wanting to touch him to help, but there isn’t anything you can actually do.

“Where are you! What happened?” 

“About a mile from the cliffs! IS THAT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW!”

You hung up, not wanting to get more stressed than you already are. You checked to see if the man was still breathing, but it was more like shallow breaths. The fear in his eyes made you cry, tears starting to stream down your face. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so incredibly sorry. Oh please please forgive me. I’m sorry sir.” You sobbed, holding his bloody and cut up hand. He calmed down, he stopped shaking. He wasn't scared anymore.

He tried to talk, but blood was coming out of his mouth. “Shh, shh. Oh...” You whispered, hoping he would hold on a bit longer.

“Where is he?” You whimpered, quickly looking around not seeing a single soul anywhere.

Then you heard it, his last gasp. You watched as his eyes go dull, losing any spark of life. His hands go limp, his head fell to the side. His eyes frozen open, you sobbed as you reach over to close them shut.

He was gone.

You cried silently, time stopped. Even as Enzos car screeched to a halt, you stood there crying.

He vamp-sped to you, noticing the dead guy and totaled car. He took a glimpse to your car a few feet away, not a dent or scratch. Not a single piece of evidence that links your car to the dead mans car. 

“I- I killed him.” You whimpered, you never go of his hand. Squeezing it tighter, in hopes that he would just jump back into his body. But nothing happened.

“I’m sorry, Love.” He tried to comfort you, soothing your back. “I will take care of it.”

You dropped the mans hand, “We- we can’t cover this up! He's got a family! He’s got loved ones! They have to know!” You shoved him away, yelling at him.

“Love, I know. But we can’t have this coming back to you.” He said reasonably, but you weren’t having it.

You laughed sarcastically, “Yeah okay, so what, I'm suppose to go on with my life. Knowing I got away with murder! Oh and let’s not forget to mention I triggered my curse! Whoopty-doo!” You yelled more, Enzo just stood there, accepting it.

“You wanna go to prison? A werewolf in state penitentiary, yeah that’d be great!” Enzo brought back some sense back to you. 

You took a step away from the car, sighing “Okay, so what’s first?”

“Wash you hands in that little pond creak thing over there, I’ll take care of this.”

You nodded, following his instructions. There was a little creek that followed the edge of the trees. Quickly rinsing the blood from your hands you held back any tears, you wanted to be done crying. You got bigger things to worry about. Like how you're gonna hide transitioning from your housemates. They were all perfectly human, knowing nothing of the supernatural.

Meanwhile, Enzo siphoned out some gas and pours it over the mans body and the inside of the car. He flicked the light on, about to drop the lighter in the car, when you walked behind him.

“Wait, what’s his name?” You got his attention, hoping he would have looked at his ID.

“You sure you want to know?” He asked, turning the light off.

You nodded your head, he quickly reached inside, grabbing something. You were looking out to the road, mainly to check your surroundings but also because you couldn't look into the car without the feeling to hurl.

“His name was Maxwell Hues, by the looks of the wallet he sure does love his dog.” He showed you his wallet, it displayed three mini pictures of his poodle.

You nodded your head, “Okay, we’re done here then.” You grabbed the lighter from Enzo’s grasp, flicking it on and throwing it into the car.

You got into your car, you left it on. With the music blaring, you reached for the knob to turn it off. Complete silence, you finally let it sink in. 

Looking into your reflection, “Well, you’re officially a werewolf and a murderer. Yay.” You said sarcastically.

Driving off behind Enzo, you never looked back. Not even when the flames reached the tank of gas and exploded the vehicle.

#enzo x reader #enzo st. john #enzo St. John imagine #the vampire diaries #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries x reader #enzo St. John x reader #tvd imagine #tvd x reader #TVD universe

[aimasup]

So I saw a bunch of Human AU Sanders Sides and thought I could make my own version

Backstories under the cut for anyone who’s interested

(Tw warnings such as mentions of abuse, homophobia and car accidents but it’s angst with a happy ending don’t worry)

-Long post-

-Patton:

Toddler to child: Parents love me and I love them! Lots of friends in kindergarten! Met Logan one day! He’s so smart!

Grade school: More friends! Logan’s opening up! Everything’s perfect!

Highschool: My parents are arguing more and I’m tired Meeting Roman and Remus! Roman’s so cool! Meeting Virgil! Virgil needs a hug! I feel sad and stressed sometimes and I don’t think I want to worry anyone with it.- Virgil’s with us now yay!

College: My best buds are here! I got into an accident halfway through my studies Virgil please don’t feel responsible. It’s not your fault. I’m so sorry Logan I should have understood your situation better. Roman please get mad I deserve your anger and I feel awful and empty but I shouldn’t show it because some people have it worse than I do I know it why do I feel this way? I’m fine honestly this is fine everything’s fine I’m just the problem -

Adulthood: So. I’m not the problem. I just need to work on my attitude and my flaws. I love my friends and family so much because they let me know that expressing my feelings is ok! My parents are fine now! I’m getting professional help! I work in an animal care center with Virgil! Roman is successful and pursuing his dreams! Met this guy named Dean and he works with Logan in the bookstore next to our center! He’s fun but he might need to stop lying so much, but other than that I’m happy with where I am now!

-Virgil:

Toddler to child: Parents love me and I love them. Bullies can go suck it. I feel bad that my parents always spend their time comforting me but they’re my whole world and I feel safe with them.

Grade school: Bullies are getting worse. Dad’s dead. Mom is stressed and busy so I don’t want to trouble her further. She still spends time with me for some reason. I don’t think I deserve friends. MCR is great. I met Dean and Remus. They’re. Interesting. I hate Roman.

High school: Oh my god everything is stressful and oppressive and everyone is scared of me. That’s good. Maybe. Met Patton, Logan and Roman. They’re only somewhat scared? Hm. Dean and Remus are getting into even more trouble than usual and pulling me into them. Maybe they aren’t good for me with how they’ve been acting lately. I’ll go be with Patton. - Maybe they don’t really accept me they’re just waiting to kick me out like everyone else why would they even like me-

College: Mom I love you so much I swear I’ll get a good job and make this college money worth it you’ll see. And things are surprisingly less stressful? I really like my friends? Patton why the hell did you save me from that car. Logan you have some explaining to do. Roman you shut the fuck up. - Everything is my fault I should have never said anything why am I always like this everyone was right about me- 

 Adulthood: Mom!! You can now retire!! Roommates with Patton, Logan and Roman now and I love being with them so much. And. Dean and Remus are still around. Well then. Whatever. I work a nice job at an animal care center with Patton and I have my friends and I’m learning to be more open and things are going well for now. Not bad for a life.

-Logan:

Toddler to child: Parents go to work most of the time and I see them every other weekend. Who cares about everyone else in kindergarten I have my books and Crofters. Oh hello Patton.

Grade school: I’m smarter than everyone else and I know it. Patton is a wonderful companion. I’m doing well for my age. 

High school: Virgil and Roman are interesting. Remus needs to chill. Virgil no let me lay some facts down for you because you are valid you hear me. Oh! Oh my gosh! I met this amazing student and he makes me feel special and happy! I think I love him! - It hurts but that’s fine- 

College: I’m coming for those degrees! Patton needs to stop asking me to leave my boyfriend. He doesn’t understand how important this man is to me! I can stand a little pain! Wait what happened to Patton. Virgil? Roman? Ok. Wait. Shit. I’m an idiot. I can’t believe it took me this long to figure out - I’m such an idiot it doesn’t matter how knowledgeable I am I’m still a gullible moron when it comes to relationships and everything my ex has ever done and said to me is all my fault because I fell for his manipulations-

Adulthood: Ok. I trust my therapist and my friends when they say it’s not my fault and that it’s alright. What I felt with my ex wasn’t love and I’m not a moron for falling for him. I can always start over. Like with the bookstore I now own with my receptionist Dean. Apparently he knows Virgil huh. They frequently bicker whenever Dean goes to their animal care center to buy snake feed so that’s interesting. My parents have retired and are now trying to make up for lost time with me? I appreciate it I suppose. Now I live with my companions and contact my family and things are alright.

-Roman:

Toddler to child: Parents love me and I love them! They buy me anything I want! They support my dreams! But Remus keeps bullying me and I’m not sure how to feel about him. He’s still my brother

Grade school: I have so many friends! Extra-curricular activities because I’m really talented! Remus has new friends to cause trouble with oh boy. More people to bully me the better for him ugh. Virgil especially creeps me out. I’m getting a little concerned as to how my parents are treating Remus but I’m sure he’s fine 

High school: Ok. So. Apparently telling my parents that I like guys is a bad idea. - That’s going to scar on my back for sure- They treat me completely differently from when I was a kid? And I met Patton and Logan and I think I might be a tad spoiled by my family. Also Virgil’s here but he’s getting more and more ok. I’ll hang out with him now. - I’m ungrateful and a disgrace and I’m not as creative as I ever thought I was- 

College: Welp. I’m moving out. I wish Remus the best of luck because I think he’s coming too. My parents officially suck as much as Logan’s current boyfriend. He needs to dump him. Wait I’m a YouTuber now! Yay! - I’m getting more and more stressed and overwhelmed from debt and I fear rejection from my fans and friends the moment I say something out of line and the moment I run out of good ideas for them- Oh shit Patton what happened!! Logan what did you do!! Virgil you shut the fuck up!! Remus you’re not helping!! - I could have prevented this why didn’t I realize this earlier am I that self absorbed-

Adulthood: Yes I’m a full time YouTuber and actor and singer now!! Patton, Logan and Virgil live with me now and they even work close together! Remus is now a comic book artist and novel author, hope he doesn’t traumatize people too much. Logan’s receptionist Dean sure is a character.  I still fear rejection- but I know things will be good for now!

-Deceit:

Toddler to child: Where are my parents. Why is the orphanage so small and why do people look at me weird when I talk. I’m never getting adopted.

Grade school: Well, I’m adopted now I guess. No way in hell am I telling them everything that happens daily in my life. Why do my new parents think my bedroom door needs to be removed. They took my little garden snake because it wasn’t a ‘normal’ pet? Hm. Why hello there Virgil and Remus. Hello Roman. 

High school: That’s it. I’m getting piercings, I’m getting a huge tattoo, I’m kissing snakes. Screw my parents. I don’t need to let anyone know anything about me. My opinion doesn’t matter anyways and everything about me is going to be bad no matter what so why bother So they fear us, Virgil? Good. Wait. Where are you going?

College: I’m moving out officially. Remus is in a different college. -Don’t miss him at all. I shall play along to society’s whims for now and get a degree and never use it. Got rid of the tracker under my car. I don’t think I’ll ever contact my parents again.

Adulthood: I think I’m doing rather well as a citizen. Remus is my new apartment mate oh god. But he is now a comic book artist and novel author so at least he has a job. Perks of working in a bookstore with Logan. That nerd’s one of Virgil’s new friends? And emo boy now works in the animal care center next to us? Whatever. I’ll leave them be unless I need some new snake feed. Things are peaceful now for me at least.

-Remus:

Toddler to child: I want my parents to look me in the eye and tell them they care more than just throwing fancy stuff into my arms dangit. Whatever I’ll just take it out on Roman and the kids in the playground.

Grade school: -If you can’t say anything nice don’t open your ugly mouth ever at all- So I’m disturbed? So my thoughts aren’t normal? Fine! Not like I can control what comes into my head! Let me bully Roman some more with my new buds Virgil and Dean! - freaking star child has everything I hate him so much what will it take for my parents to have their attention on me I’ve caused so much trouble in school why won’t they care-

High school: Roman what the hell happened?? I was planning your murder but now I’m not sure how to feel?? Damn you?? Uh?? We’ll move out?? And where the hell is Virgil going again?? Dean?? He’s leaving us? Alright. That’s it. That’s it - my grades and reputation are shit and my parents always assume the worst of me anyways so I’ll just sleep around with a bunch of guys every other week for quick cash and drag my family’s name through the mud and have fun because I don’t hate myself completely but my ideas are bad and I’m bad and- 

College: Fuck you mom and dad! Roman and I are moving out!! I’m gonna become a comic artist and write terrifying stories that’ll make Satan cry!! - Ugh Dean’s in another college dammit I miss him- Roman what is it this time someone get run over or something? What happened with that nerd Logan?  Is Virgil alright- What the fuck happened? - the star child is crying why are you crying why am I crying why do I feel like this I don’t care I shouldn’t care I hate you I hate me-

Adulthood: My ideas are selling! I’m a comic book artist and a novel author! Dean is my new apartment buddy! My brother is still some fancy theater geek but who cares! And the store Dean works at sells my books! And Virgil’s in the animal care center next door! I met his new friends officially and they’re boring lol. I really like where my life’s heading!

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides human au #remus sanders #sympathetic remus sanders #duke remus #deceit #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #logan sanders #logic sanders #morality sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #princey sanders #roman and remus #creativitwins #my art #my post #very long post #long post #janice sanders #janus sanders

[herstarburststories]

Beautiful Ghosts [p1]

A/N: HAPPY BDAY TO ME, YAY! The first chapter of this hopefully mini series is for @alleiradayne 's 1k celebration! Congrats, hon. A mix of angst and two kinds of comfort here. I gotta admit that I started working on this months ago and kept going until I was satisfied with how it was going. Hope you guys like this one! Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

Summary: Something as tribal as death wouldn't keep you away from Dean.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Prompt: I’m not going to leave you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.

Characters: Dean and Sam Winchester, you

Rating: PG 13

Word count: 2404

As always, you are in Dean's arms when the two brothers enter the bunker after a hunt. There isn’t any sound to break the silence, no raucous laughter, or even a snarky comment about today’s slain monsters. Their steps are stronger than usual, and one breath is missing.

Of course, it’s different from your usual entrance. Your arms aren't tangled with Dean's and his aren’t wrapped around your waist or shoulders. You are in his arms, yes, but you are lying still in a state of lifeless despondency. To think, he was once hopeful, stupid enough to believe that he'd only be carrying you like this when he was marrying you. 

Sam is awfully quiet. He can think and organize a hundred words into speeches in his mind, but nothing comes out. The younger brother feels like a kid during a class presentation too worried to say the wrong word and receive the wrong reaction. Therefore, he chooses silence, just like the other Winchester. They both make room for the grief that way.

It's a silent agreement that you are gone for good. The spell used to bring Eileen back is no longer available, and there is no devil willing to make a pact — not that one would allow the others to do so, after all.

Dean still considers it. More than once, more than a million times between the drive back home when you laid in the backseat with your guts on the car's floor and putting your body on the couch with more tenderness he’d thought himself capable of. 

He would come back to hell just to save you, even if it meant not staying to see you thrive. The agony would be more bearable if he knew that for each scream of his, there would be a grin of yours.

He has no hope now. All Dean Winchester has is anger and unprocessed grief slowly metamorphosing into sadness, hate, and bloodthirst. Even when he killed the fucking werewolf right after he laid his teeth on you, it wasn’t enough. He needed to make someone hurt as much as he did.

It was supposed to be an easy hunt, but isn’t that life with this job? It's usually supposed to be a quick thing, and then you are choking your own blood like it's tequila.

“She is in a better place now.” Sam is the first to speak, utterly doubting that his brother would make a noise if he didn't first.

Sammy was always full of faith, but this time it made Dean furious. “You don't know that.”

“Dean.”

“Don't, Sammy. Don't even fucking try. You know who we are and what Billie thinks about us. Do you think (Y/N) won't get the same destiny as we will? Alone in the empty, going crazy for years, decades!?”

“We can find a way—“ 

“No, we can't! We all signed her death sentence the minute we asked her to move in. And she—“ Dean cuts himself off with the sharp knife of silence, staving any hope left with harsh thoughts. The living room is maybe the most similar it’s ever been to the old glory days now: men of letters used to get frustrated there all the time, usually with a bottle of whiskey and a dead body on the floor, full of holes from experiments. 

The eldest Winchester wants to scream, throw a chair, break a lamp. He’d do anything to get this heavy sensation out of his veins, as if every single drop of blood weighs 500 pounds.

Still, he doesn't fall on his knees.

An inconsistently wry smirk consumes Dean’s face, warped with grief. “I had to put her guts back in her body, you know? To carry her in the car.”

He lifts his hands. They are stained red. Sam purses his lips together, trying to find something to say that would have helped him when Jess died. Nothing but an annoying little voice saying time comes to mind. It's gonna be hard, but they will make it. They always do.

Sammy doesn't tell that to Dean, though. He isn't ready yet. And neither is Sam to vocalize the words.

We are gonna be okay because we always do. And the dead bodies end up like frightening memories and nothing else.

That would sound too cold, like most truths for hunters. If Sam says those words, it becomes real. Not even the bloodstained picture of murder is stronger than words of farewell. Besides, you were his best friend. He had to recompose and convince himself that everything would be okay before he helped Dean. For once, he had to be the brother who shut all the turmoil in to take care of the other

“I'm sorry, Dean.”

And then, Sam does the only thing that he could think of as useful for making the ache bearable. He hugs his big brother.

Dean struggles to get away from the hold, even with every fiber of his being screaming to remain there. “Let me go! Sam, I'm serious. Fucking let me go!”

“It's gonna be okay, Dean.”

“Let me go, Sammy! Now!”

“You are not alone, Dean. I'm here. She will be okay, too.”

“Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”

Until he finally gives in, collapsing in Sam's arms like that little kid in Kansas who didn't want to cry in front of his dad after seeing his mom get killed.

There is blood on Sammy’s favorite shirt now, but he doesn’t care. He just tightens his embrace around Dean while his brother is lost into racking sobs. 

His grief is just as expansive as Dean’s, their ragged souls laced with a sickening kind of sweetness that can only show up when someone you love needs help. It squirms and crawls in their guts to make a home that sticks. It’s their tiny comforts— the good feelings always show up in defiance of the ache like a plant growing on concrete. They just have to get the energy to look for them.

Everything is still the way you left it in Dean's bedroom. He didn't put your clothes away. You left your book on the shelf and kept your perfume in the wardrobe. Your pillow is still scrambled as if you had left for a couple of minutes to grab a cup of water and would soon come back to snuggle up to him. Well, it could always be from the fact that he's holding onto that piece of cotton for dear life. If he had long nails, his floor would be a complete mess now.

He's glaring at the wall, mind trying to come up with ways to cope with the growing ache in his whole body. Yes, the books and poets and films speak fondly about heartbreak, but he already threw the last glimpses of his bruised heart on the fire, burning with your body to the point no one could say it was ever in his chest to begin with. What could he do? There's always a way for the Winchesters. If Dean thinks hard enough, maybe he can defeat death. Maybe he can have you back.

Dean puts the pillow away after another sniff. The smell of your pepper shampoo is almost fading — he shouldn't have hugged it. Nonetheless, the green-eyed hunter focuses on coming up with ideas, and it's a stupid, humanly behavior when his mind goes to what desperate people usually seek.

Dean was never a pious man. The fact his mother died while angels were too busy watching over him to help her didn’t do it any good. Yet in stolen moments like these, he, like most humans, would bear his soul in a peace offering to all the holy things he doubted. The Winchester never prayed for himself, though. Who would answer his cry for help? He never deserved to be saved. So, he put his hands together and closed his eyes for who he cared about. As the Layla woman who told him to have faith or Sammy as something scandalous happened. It was rare, but Dean did that sometimes. He used to hope someone was listening. He doesn't pray anymore, not even now. Because he knows someone is listening, and he doesn't care.

Can an empty room seem crowded? Yes, when touch-starving grief is piled inside, begging to be seen. Why can't he allow himself to feel it? Why can't he cry? Why can't he just stop using anger as a comfort? Dean doesn't know. It used to be easier to cry before. He'd say he's lost his emotions, but the all-consuming anger and his ferocious barks to keep the hurt is burning proof he isn't yet.

Y/N died, and it's his fault. Y/N died, and it's his fault. Y/N died, and it's his fault.

His nostrils are opening, the wrath that swaths him as comfortable as his own skin. It’s not natural enough that he doesn't feel the burn, and you know he's going to break again. Your Dean doesn't break easily, but when he does, it's in a million little pieces that he wouldn't allow people to help pick them up. He’d rather shove them under the bed with his childhood monsters or bruising his hands as he exasperatedly tries to get them all by himself. You know he's going to shift into a storm and start breaking things. You know it's a temporary morphine, and the sickness will remain in the morning.

That's the incentive you need to try harder, to flash yourself into this plane of existence long enough to be seen. You force every fragment of yourself and light and whatever other pieces you are made of now to appear. To be heard. To show Dean he isn't all by himself again.

An image starts glitching in front of him. It’s rapid enough for Dean's reaction to come as a frown and his hand to snake around to the gun at the hem of his pants. 

And then, he blinks and a heart-stopping joy hits him. He can't believe the unbreakable heaven that he's being blessed with. Every feeling that should be burrowed under his skin is fighting to come to the light, and God, he wants to. For the first time, he doesn't want to hold back because what was trying to come together finally is you.

You. You are standing right before his own green eyes. There is a soft look on your face. It’s laced with that pretty smile that’s always spread happiness to him as well. You are here, standing in his room, clean clothes and blood in your veins. Guts inside your body! He never imagined he'd be happy to think that.

Is this his heart? Oh God, it is. And it's beating. No, no. It's racing. His heart is working again and now he almost falls on his knees. The pain was never able to break him, but he had forgotten how strong happiness could be. He's relieved.

Dean's eyes burn when he looks at you. Maybe it’s because he’s too shocked to even blink or perhaps it is all the tears that were flowing. Who cares? That man would allow his entire body to collapse in flames if the smoke signaled you back home. 

He takes a few steps, having the nerve to touch you — probably the most daring thing he has ever done. He is ready for you to dissipate, for that to be a dream, anything. And you don’t. You remain there. You don’t leave him too. Your usually warm body is gelid, but Dean doesn't care. It's an honest warning, yet he's happy to ignore those for once. You're here. 

“Dean, I—“ Your voice. It's your voice saying his name. He recognizes the importance of a name now. For a brief moment, he's confused. What the fuck is happening? You purse your lips and Dean chortles in dismay, unable to discern his inner state of being. “I don't know what to say.”

“I thought I had lost you. I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I thought you were gone for good.” He's found the words for you, exhibiting his vulnerability so quietly. Your entire soul feels it— it's not true what they say. You don't stop feeling when you are dead. You start to feel everything deeper because after leaving your meatsuit, all that is left is your soul. And what's a soul but the patchwork of emotions? “I thought you'd never come back again. That I'd have to go on without you. I'm so sorry. It was my fault. I should have saved you.”

“No, Dean. Don't start self-loathing and all that. It wasn't your fault. What happened to us could've happened to any hunter. And if it happened to me, there is a reason for it.”

“A reason for you to be ripped apart?” He scoffs at your belief of fate. You always had a graceful heart in you, even after you met Chuck. 

“I'm back, right? I told you I'd always be with you, and I'm here. Always.” You intertwine your fingers, and he watches your hands for a little while. While it’s difficult for him to grasp anything but pain nowadays, he accepts the rush of joy in his chest. Dean looks up, and you're still here, big eyes offering him a loving gaze. “I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to suffer by yourself again. I promise.”

He kisses you, and it feels like your emotions have finally found a perfect body to rest in when yours is a little bit tired — a place to call home. He kisses you, and everything is worth it. Because he kisses you. And you kiss him back.

Dean Winchester is a marvelous hunter. He should know that the cold his tongue experiences in your mouth while you two make out ferociously isn't quite right. You should feel fervid, and you are warm in every way of being but skin. He should pay attention to that. He should stop trying to make you come alive with love. Still, he can't bring his rational side to care. That man was always guided by emotion, anyway. What could matter more than you on his arms? Worries could be postponed because you did what no one else ever could.

You came back to him.

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[starlite-writes]

Auber belongs to @alkalamity, and the Novation species (and Leaf) belong to @packedlunchmeat! C:

Content warnings: gaslighting, emotional/mental manipulation(? better safe that sorry), brief strangulation.

---

It's quiet today.

Angel enjoys quiet. It's a rare thing, but pleasant nonetheless. Today, they're spending the blissful silence sitting on the couch with a book in their lap.

"Angel!"

They shake their head in annoyance at the sound of Auber outside their door. 

"It never lasts," Angel mutters under their breath. Still, they don't move to check the door.

There's the sound of fists banging against the wooden door, and then Auber's voice again--

"Angel! Open the door now!"

A sigh as they turn the page.

"So help me God, I will get my keys and open this door myself, Angel. Open up. I need to talk to you."

Angel huffs, simply crossing their legs. "I feel as though that violates some form of landlord law," they call, just loud enough to be heard.

"Quit the smartass comments and open the door!"

Angel doesn't move.

It takes but a moment before the sound of jingling keys meets their ears, and then the door is swinging open. Auber stands in the doorway, two swords in their lower two hands, their key ring in their upper right. 

"Hello to you too," Angel greets coolly, hardly sparing them a glance. By now, they know better than to display any kind of concern when greeted by a potential threat. "Picking useless fights again, are we?"

"Well, if you already know, then that makes things a lot easier on my end." Auber steps closer, setting their keys in their pocket and moving the swords to their upper hands.

"Enlighten me," Angel drawls lazily. "What is it I'm supposed to know?"

"That I'm here to start a fight!" Auber points one sword at Angel accusingly. "What's your relationship with Mal?"

Angel barely keeps from smiling. Ah. So that's what this is about. Good going, Mal; you've really made an enemy of the landlord, then.

"Who's Mal?" they ask, keeping their voice even and void of emotion. A simple question with no personal stake--voiced just the same as one might ask the time.

Auber's jaw clenches just slightly. Angel sees it from their peripheral vision. 

"Braconid wasp. About yay high." Auber holds up a hand. "Red. Kinda stupid."

Angel licks their finger as they turn the page, still not looking up. "Sorry; doesn't ring any bells."

Auber squints, all four of their eyes narrow and lit with carefully concealed anger. "Angel. Your name is literally listed in his 'person who referred me' section."

"Is it now?" Angel asks, finally standing up as they close their book. They walk to their bookshelf, replacing the book carefully. They turn back towards Auber, leaning against the wall. "How strange. I think you've been scammed, then; I've never referred anyone. I don't have any friends who can afford your prices."

Crack!

Auber swings their sword, the tip of the blade connecting with the wall hardly an inch from their head. Angel doesn't even flinch. Instead, they stare at Auber with an unimpressed expression.

"Stop it," Auber hisses. "I've had enough of the stupid mind games."

"And I've had enough of your tantrum," Angel replies coldly. They turn to glance at the cracks branching around the blade. "I'm not paying to repair this."

"It's your security deposit."

"You did the damage."

Auber pulls the blade out of the wall, and Angel watches in disgust as drywall dust cascades across their newly cleaned floor.

"I don't remember that," Auber says innocently.

"I have cameras," Angel points out. "You've broken in too many times for me not to have them."

"It isn't breaking in if I own the place," Auber fires back. 

"It's breaking in if I pay you obscene amounts of money each month to live in said place," Angel hisses, their ears pinning back.

"My prices aren't even that high!" Auber snaps. "Stop changing the subject! I know you're connected to Mal! What's your deal with him, Angel?"

"I literally don't even know who that is!" Angel snarls, digging their heels in further. "I have never met a Mal in my life!"

Auber is losing their composure--Angel can see it eroding away with each word they utter. They're angry.

Good.

"Angel," Auber says, their voice cold. "I know you know him. I'm not looking for a fight with you but I swear to Christ if you keep this up I will kill you where you stand. All I want is a simple answer--what is your connection?"

Angel barely keeps their lips from twitching up into a smile.

"I can't answer that if I don't know the person," they reply, voice equally low and icy.

Auber moves fast--faster than Angel expected. One second they're standing a couple feet away, and the next they're practically pressed against Angel's body, the blade of one sword placed firmly against their throat. Angel's teeth are gritted as they press against the wall behind them instinctively. 

"With every gaslighting sentence that leaves that filthy mouth of yours, you get that much closer to dying," Auber warns. "You've already got a blade to your throat. "Do you really want to push this further?"

"You won't kill me," Angel replies, their voice strained even as they say it as if it's a fact they're certain of.

They're not sure at all. Auber currently has an incredibly concerning glint in their eye--something Angel can only describe as mania--and they wouldn't put it past Auber to do something entirely reckless and foolish in a fit of passion.

"Do you want to test that?" Auber whispers. 

Angel doesn't, actually, but they hold fast to their pride. 

"Tell you what," they say, reaching up and carefully pushing Auber's hand away from their throat. "Take me to his apartment. If it is as you say it is, surely he will be there, or some sign of him will be. Sound fair?"

Auber tilts their head as if thinking about it. 

"Fine." They step back. "But I expect a well-thought out apology."

"Only if you really deserve one, asshole," Angel spits in response, rubbing at their throat. Their hand comes away sticky with a small amount of amber blood. "Lead the way, then." 

Auber all but throws open the door to Angel's apartment before taking off towards one a few doors down. Angel follows leisurely, upper arms crossed over their chest and lower ones in their pockets.

Auber waits until Angel catches up to unlock the door with one of their keys, throwing it open and turning towards Angel expectantly, like See! I knew you were lying!

Angel peers past them into the empty apartment. "Very convincing empty and desolate apartment you have here."

"What?" Auber turns, and sure enough, the living room is completely clean--suspiciously so. It looks like whomever left did so in a way that suggests they were never there in the first place.

Good. You can listen, then.

Auber turns towards Angel, their expression the definition of furious.

Angel just smiles in response. “Well, I think you owe me an apology.”

“You better tell me where he is,” Auber says, their voice low. “I know you know. It's your job to know.”

“Auber.” Angel gives a tired sigh, their expression painted with practiced exasperation. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. Are you feeling all right? I know things have been stressful for you lately; perhaps the pressure is finally making you crack? I think you may have tried to return to work too quickly.”

Auber’s teeth grit, sharp teeth barely exposed under their curled lip. Despite their clear anger, there’s undoubtedly a waver under it. They’re entertaining the idea.

Excellent.

Amused, Angel wonders how much it will take to make Auber snap completely. Not much, they wager.

Angel leans against the door frame with a small smile. "Well? Should I call Leaf for you? Maybe she can bring you home and--ack!"

Their words cut off in a strangled cry as Auber grabs them by the throat, shoving them against the wall.

"You're such a liar," Auber hisses. "Have you ever spoken a word of truth in your life?"

"Of course, I have," Angel answers, glaring up at their landlord. "Look, I'm sorry I don't have a way to peek into that silly little brain of yours and see whatever you've concocted in your traumatised haze of existence, but--"

Auber squeezes harder, enough to stop Angel breathing for several seconds. They cough and draw in a shaking breath.

"Stop--talking," Auber says through gritted teeth. "Stop. Just…" They let go of Angel, one hand coming up to cover their eyes. "Go." 

"What?"

"You heard me." Auber gestures away from the apartment with one of their swords, and Angel flattens themself further against the wall to avoid getting fileted like a fish. "Just go. I'm tired."

Angel's wings twitch. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Auber huffs. "I just really don't want to talk to you anymore. Go home. I'll… call Leaf… or something." Their voice is flat and they genuinely sound tired.

There's a flicker of something like guilt in Angel's chest. Maybe they did push too far this time. Still, they offer nothing by way of apology, turning on their heel and walking away, leaving Auber by Mal's empty apartment. 

Alone.

#my writing #gift writing ♡ #other's characters #gaslighting #emotional manipulation #strangulation #tw #text #novaverse #oc: angel #oc: novangel #alkalamity #packedlunchmeat

[megurine-san-7u7]

My Valentine - OS

WONDERCORP PROMPT

It was one of those days in which Kara would drop by unannounced with donuts in hand. Successfully pulling Lena away from her tiring job.

Although it was still a bit difficult for her to get used to the idea of having friends, the blonde reporter was very persistent in becoming her friend that Lena was unable to refuse that friendship.

And even when from time to time the Luthor was reluctant to trust, given her rocky past with betrayals in her life. Lena just had to remember brown hair, chocolate eyes and gentle kisses, and all doubts would banish.

She had met Diana by chance in one of her trips to Europe, and the amazon was quick to win her heart.

How could she resist a goddess herself?

Diana had teared down her walls and made her believe in people again. The amazon was the only reason Lena didn’t shut herself off completely after her brother’s trial.

A sigh left her lips, it was barely noticeable, and even with super hearing, Kara was more distracted by the story she was telling Lena.

And she should probably pay attention, but her mind was elsewhere.

Miles away, more precisely, across the ocean. In a certain museum where her lover worked.

It had been barely a year since she moved to National City.

The memory of the day she took the hardest decision of her life, was still fresh in her mind.

.

She got off the phone, a blank expression and dull eyes.

Diana was by her side in an instant gently taking hold of her face to look her in the eye.

“What’s wrong?” She asked with a soft voice.

“LuthorCorp…” Lena mumbled with a distant gaze. “…is mine now…”

The amazon waited for Lena to gather her thoughts, gently stroking her lover’s cheeks with tenderness.

“I-I thought mother would take control…” a frown etched on her features. “but…Lex left it all to me in case something happened-” again a distant gaze settled on her features, as if her mind was miles away.

Because something did happen. Her brother went mad and murdered hundreds of innocent people, all because of his vendetta against Superman.

“Lena-”

“I just can’t believe him!” Lena huffed in anger and moved away from her lover’s touch. “I don’t want LuthorCorp, I never wanted it!” She exclaimed while pacing around the room. “Lex knew it! And he still-”

Her anger was abruptly stopped when a pair of strong arms surrounded her body from behind. Lena felt the instant calm Diana always provided.

“Why would he do that?” She muttered with a broken voice.

“I don’t know…” It was the only thing Diana could say. “But it is done.”

Lena sighed and turned around to hid her face in Diana’s neck, letting her lover held her and comfort her.

“What to do next is up to you, my love.” The hero mumbled while gently caressing the Luthor’s soft hair.

Lena knew Diana was right, and a lump formed in throat.

She wanted to stay in Paris with her lover, but with her family’s company in her control, her wish could not be anymore.

LuthorCorp was one of the biggest companies in the world, holding much power, and in the wrong hands -like her brother’s- its resources could be used wrongly.

It was easier to walk away from it all when she didn’t have the power to do something. But with Lex’s actions, Lena did have the power to change the company’s future, to turn it into a force of good.

The only catch, she’d have to return to America.

“I have to go back…” The words left her lips in a whisper, as if reluctant to be voiced at all.

“I know…” Diana said gently, still caressing her hair.

Soon the tears she was trying to swallow couldn’t be held back anymore, and Lena started crying on her lover’s shoulder, wetting her expensive blouse. But Diana didn’t complain, on the contrary, she strengthened her hold on the young woman.

The hero knew her better than anyone else, and she always understood Lena’s actions, never asking for something the Luthor wasn’t ready to give.

“I don’t want to leave here…”

“I know…” With a sigh, Diana gently moved Lena away, placing her palms on Lena’s cheeks and wiping away the tears. “But it doesn’t mean this has to end here.”

“No?”

“We can make this work if you want, Lena. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She said those words with sincerity and a big teary smile on her face.

.

“Lena?” Kara’s voice brought her out of her memories, and by the look on the blonde’s face, it wasn’t the first time calling her name.

“Sorry, I spaced out a bit.” Lena said with a practiced reassuring smile. “What did you say?”

Kara narrowed her eyes a bit, and a crinkle formed between them. It was clear she was worried, but their friendship was still new and she didn’t want to push.

“I asked you about your plans for this Tuesday.” Kara said with a smile.

“Uh, I have work to do-”

“What?! No, you can’t work on Tuesday!” Kara refuted right away, an offended frown on her face.

At her confused expression, the blonde opened her eyes in surprise.

“You don’t know what this Tuesday is?!”

“Should I…?”

Searching her memory, she tried to remember if someone on their friend group was celebrating a birthday or something. But her mind came up empty.

She looked at Kara at a loss, and the blonde gasped in shock.

“It’s Valentine’s Day!” Kara exclaimed as if it was a sacrilege to forget such a day.

“Oh…” Very eloquent on her part, but Lena just didn’t know what to say.

She remembered the last year’s Valentine’s day.

Diana had prepared the day with anticipation, and Lena was a little surprise at her lover’s enthusiasm. But the amazon told her about Eros -also known as cupid- and how the day reminded her of the Greek God, son of Aphrodite. It made her remember her mother’s stories about the gods when Diana was just a child.

Lena had listened to everything the amazon wanted to share with a smile on her face.

The Luthor had been happy by just spending the day with Diana, but the demigoddess had made sure to make it a day to remember…

And now, they would spend the day apart. They had talked about it a few days ago, but their schedules were too hectic, and neither Lena could fly to Paris, nor Diana to National City.

And the Luthor really didn’t want to think about that.

“I have a lot of work to catch up on, so I’ll be really busy that day…” She said, a grim look on her face.

“No way, you can’t spend Valentine’s alone.” Kara protested. “You can come to my place; we were planning on throwing a party with everyone.” The blonde said excitedly.

“Look Kara, I appreciate the offer but…”

‘But I rather focus on work instead of thinking about my girlfriend across the world.’

“Come on Lena, it’s friendship day.” Kara whined with a pout on her face

“Kara…” Lena tried again, but the pout only increased, and she felt like kicking a puppy in the rain. “Fine. But after I finish working.” She said with a resigned sigh, knowing she’d regret it later.

“Yay! You’re the best!” The reporter exclaimed while launching herself at the Luthor, and almost asphyxiating her with the bear hug.

.

Tuesday came sooner than she could expect.

She woke up like usual, checking her phone and the ever-present text from Diana.

‘Good morning, love.

I hope you have a wonderful day.

Yours, Diana.’

Lena smiled like a school girl in love, and wrote back a message. Although a little frown appeared on her face. Diana hadn’t mentioned anything about Valentine’s Day.

But she decided to ignore it, maybe Diana didn’t want to be reminded they were continents apart either.

.

After a couple of hours of work in the morning, her assistant knocked on the door and stepped inside her office.

“Do you need something, Jess?” She asked with curiosity, barely giving her assistant a proper look.

“I have a delivery for you, Ms. Luthor.” Jess said with a smile on her face.

When Lena raised her head from the documents in her hands, she gasped at the beautiful bouquet in Jess’s arms.

Those were her favorite flowers, and there was only one person who knew of that.

In an instant she was out of the seat and approaching her assistant to take the bouquet in her own arms.

The Luthor smelled their fragrance and a content smile settled on her lips. Then she noticed a note gently buried in the middle of the bouquet.

Jess noticed the happy giddy look on her boss and decided to leave her to her privacy.

Lena didn’t even notice her leaving, and was quick to take the note from between the flowers.

‘My beautiful star,

How I wish I was by your side.

Your smiles make my heart beat faster

Your kisses make me feel like flying

And knowing your heart belongs to me brings me absolute joy.

My heart is yours completely, I love you.’

The Luthor felt tears prickling at the corner of her eyes, it still amazed her how happy a simple detail could make her heart flutter.

Lena let herself a moment to enjoy the fragrance of the flowers, and when her heart was content enough, she turned to press the button she used to call her assistant.

“Jess, could you please bring me a vase filled with clean water?”

“Right away, Ms. Luthor.”

.

Her work went a lot easier after Diana’s note, and her mood was completely improved from when she first arrived at her office.

Time went by without her noticing, her thoughts only on her beloved.

So when Kara came inside with lunch in her hands, Lena was startled to say the least.

“Sorry…” The blonde muttered with an apologetic smile.

“Don’t worry about it.” Lena was quick to wave away the apology, and her smile was once again on her lips.

Kara tilted her head slightly in contemplation, as if not fully understanding the good mood. But a smile of her own plastered on her face.

If Lena was happy, then she was happy too.

And while putting the dishes on the table, blue eyes zeroed on the flowers on Lena’s desk.

“Nice flowers.” She said and a little frown etched on her features. “I thought you hated Valentine’s day.”

Lena laughed with mirth and left her chair to join Kara on the couch.

“I never said I hated the day.”

Kara waited a few seconds for Lena to add something else, but the Luthor didn’t say anything else about that, and instead brought out another topic of conversation.

The rest of their lunch was spent with a confused human puppy and a overjoyed Luthor.

“So, uh, I’ll see you at the party?” Kara asked, fidgeting with her glasses, sensing there was a story behind Lena’s smile and those flowers on her desk.

“Sure…” The Luthor said absentmindedly while gently stroking some of the petals of the flowers.

Lena seemed to be immersed in her thoughts, so Kara decided to leave it be for now.

She could get answers later, she told herself.

.

After Kara left, the young Luthor went back to work.

There had been a few problems in the research department, and she was currently writing to several people on how to take action on the problems.

Once again, she let herself get immersed in her work, not giving the clock even a glance.

.

Lena was just finishing typing a few important e-mails, when the balcony door opened and a gust of wind entered the office

“I see you still get carried away with work.”

At hearing that voice, she felt her heart beating faster inside her ribcage, and her body was quick to turn around.

“Diana…you’re here…” Lena mumbled when her eyes settled on Diana wearing her Wonder Woman suit.

“I am.” The amazon said with an amused smile on her lips, seeing that the Luthor still could not believe her presence was real.

“Oh my god, you’re really here!”

When Lena realized the sight in front of her wasn’t made up by her mind, she was quick to jump out of her seat and go to the arms of her lover. Diana caught her and spinned with Lena in her arms, like those lovers in the movies they watched in Paris.

They laughed with happiness in the arms of the other, filled with joy at been together after months apart and only videocalls in between.

When they finally settled down, their eyes met and soon the distance between their faces started to disappear.

Their lips met in a kiss, and soon they lost themselves in it.

It had been too long apart.

.

The party was supposed to be at night, and Kara was still patrolling the city in her super suit.

But when the sun started to go down, the blonde knew it was time to go get everything ready.

Suddenly Lena came to her mind, and she just knew the Luthor would still be working, so the hero decided to go visit her friend and remind her of their plans.

With a smile on her face, she flew towards L-corp, but when she was near, her eyes opened wide in surprise.

Inside Lena’s office was none other than Wonder Woman, currently in a deep kiss with Lena Luthor.

Shocked by the view, Kara lost control of her ability to fly for a moment, and before she could do something, she crashed on the Luthor’s balcony.

There was dust everywhere, and a new Supergirl’s dent shaped on the balcony’s floor. When she looked up from her place on the floor, Kara noticed the couple had separated, but Diana was standing in front of Lena protectively.

“Supergirl…” The amazon acknowledged her fellow hero, but still not letting Lena out of her protection, which made Kara frown.

The blonde opened her mouth to say something, but her mind came up empty on what she could say. So, she was just sitting there with dust on her suit, opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

Lena cleared her throat and taking hold of Diana’s hand, she looked at her lover’s eyes to communicate that it was fine, she was not in danger. The amazon nodded her understanding and lowered her guard.

The Luthor then approached the fallen kryptonian.

“Are you okay?” She asked gently, and Kara finally seemed to snap out of her trance.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” The blonde then stood up and dusted off her clothes.

Silence once again settled in the place, and yet again Lena was the one to break it.

“Is there a reason you came crashing on my balcony?” The Luthor asked softly.

“Oh, sorry about that…” The reporter was quick to apologize with an embarrassed blush on her cheeks.

Lena almost chuckled at the sight, because in front of her wasn’t Supergirl, but her dorky friend Kara.

“So?” The Luthor inquired again raising an eyebrow.

“Uh…yeah, I was just passing by and…” Kara was saying, but her eyes would dart from time to time to the amazon, who was currently serving herself a cup of water from Lena’s cabinet. “…and I…” the blonde had a crinkle between her eyes, clear confusion on her features, and once again Lena had to bite her lip to avoid laughing.

“And?” She tried to keep Kara focused.

“And uh…Kara Danvers asked me to remind you of the party…” The blonde finally said a full sentence with her gaze on the Luthor.

Lena’s smile dropped in an instant.

Kara was looking at her with a hopeful expression, and being honest, the Luthor had completely forgotten about said party. Even worse, she didn’t want to attend anymore. Diana was there with her, and Lena preferred her lover’s company than some party with people she was just getting to know.

“You’re going, right…?” The blonde hero asked tentatively.

Lena opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped when Diana’s voice reached her ears.

“You can go if you want, my love.” The amazon said in Greek, and by Kara’s confused expression, she didn’t understand it.

“I rather be with you.”

“And I’d like that as well, but if you wish, we can go to that party together.” Diana said with tenderness in her voice. “We can do whatever you wish, my love.”

Lena nodded and turned around to face Kara again, who was darting her eyes from one woman to the other while they were talking.

“So…uh…?” The blonde hero was at a loss.

Lena pondered her options, but there wasn’t really much to ponder. She already knew what she wanted.

“I’m sorry, Supergirl…I don’t think I will be making it to the party.” The Luthor said with the softest apologetic voice she could muster. “Please give Kara my sincere apologies.”

“I-I see…” There was hurt in her eyes, but Kara was quick to regain her composure. “I’ll pass the message then. Have a good night, Ms. Luthor-” she turned to her colleague in being a hero. “Wonder Woman.” And acknowledged her as well before flying away.

Lena sighed, feeling a bit bad after seeing Kara’s expression, but she didn’t regret her decision.

“Did you like the flowers?” Diana asked with a soft smile on her lips.

“I loved them, thank you.” Lena replied with a happy smile, approaching her beloved to. “Now, where were we?” she muttered with a deeper voice and surrounding Diana’s neck with her arms.

The amazon smiled and kissed her again.

#supergirl #lena luthor #Diana Prince #kara danvers #wondercorp

[towerfandoms]

Would you consider doing a pt 2 to Hanahaki Disease where everyone finds out about the surgery? 😖😖

Of course you can! Thank you so much for requesting this. First part can be found here. I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.2k

CW/TW: nothing much, mentions of hospital and not being able to breath.

Genre: angst, not as bad as the last one though. a lot of Endorsi comforting the reader <3

Hanahaki Disease (2)

Y/n!” came a foreign voice startling you out of your pleasant thoughts. You stood there confused as you couldn’t pinpoint exactly whose voice it was, thought it was familiar.

You turned around, still with a smile on your lips.

“Hm?” you replied, taking in the sight of the person in front of you.

He had an angelic smile, velvety laugh, porcelain skin and piercing, bright blue eyes. He was the definition of perfection. You questioned to yourself if he was hand-carved by the Greek Gods themselves.

“Are you ok? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days?”

“I’m so sorry if this sounds rude but do we know each other?”

——————————————————————————

Khun stood there still, in shock. For the first time the blue haired man was speechless. Whatever he was expecting after not talking to you normally for weeks certainly wasn’t this. And it wasn’t just the blank look on your face that irked him, it was also your tone. You were talking so formally and polite it made him feel disgusted.

It had been a couple of weeks since your confession. You two hadn’t spoken much bar an occasional greeting or discussing of plans. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he had missed you. A lot. Despite everything that’s happened, you two were best friends and it hurt not talking to you. But he had wanted to give you space. Now he almost regrets that.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked, anger masking his confusion and hurt though he knew the answer deep down. He knew it wasn’t. Khun was a perceptive person, so he could tell that you weren’t messing around.

“No? I just had surgery though so I guess i’m still a little out of it,” you replied almost breathlessly. Not only was he a work of art, he had a beautiful, almost velvety voice to match

“Surgery? Why didn’t you tell anyone? We’ve been worried sick about you for the past few days!”

You were gone for three days and nobody knew where you were. Sure you didn’t have to tell anyone but it’d be nice if you had even left a note.

Thinking back, why didn’t you tell anyone? You felt bad that your friends were worried about you. You hadn’t been yourself but you didn’t want to worry them anymore. You didn’t realize how long the operation would take.

“I’m sorry. I thought everyone was busy and didn’t want to worry them more,” came your sheepish reply.

“Y/n, we‘re your friends. You could’ve at least told us.” he scolded. Though his tone was harsh it wasn’t hard to see the lines of worry across his forehead.

It was really weird, you thought. You could remember everyone else quite clearly. Why couldn’t you remember him? He seemed so familiar too. And why did you even have the surgery in the first place? The answer was right there in the back of your brain but you couldn’t reach it.

Khun

Khun? What the hell was a Khun?

No, not what.

Who?

“Khun…?” you asked uncertainly.

You could almost see some of the tension roll off his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s my name,” his tone was rather harsh but for some reason he was rather easy to read. You could tell how stressed he was.

Khun could also read you easily. He noticed your still confused look and sighed.

“I’m gonna call Endorsi, maybe she’ll know what’s up,” with that Khun sauntered off with the intention of finding your best friend and getting answers.

Almost immediately as he left the room Endorsi came running in. You could hear the man named Khun scoff and continue walking down the hallway, leaving you two alone.

“Don’t hate me but I was listening into your conversation and i just can’t help but worry,” she babbled breathlessly. “What’s wrong? Did you have surgery. Can you remember me? Please don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me. Otherwise I’ll have to slap it out of you,”

She was joking,,, or at least you hoped.

Without giving you time to respond she wrapped her arms around you and rested her forehead against your shoulder. You instinctively hugged her back.

“You didn’t actually forget me did you?” she mumbled sadly into your shoulder.

“What! No, of course not! How could I ever forget one of my closest friends.” you replied with the most certainty you could muster. It was true though. You could remember every little detail about her. She was rather hard to forget.

Upon hearing that Endorsis mood took a complete 180. “Yay, ok now can you please explain everything?”

“I can try but the truth is I don’t remember anything myself. I had a surgery for three days but now I don’t even remember what it was for. I think it was for lung disease.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? You can tell friends anything. We could’ve gone through this together. Man that must’ve been so scary having surgery alone,”

“No it wasn’t actually that bad. But the issue is I can’t remember that Khun man qnd he looks really sad about it. “

“Khun, sad? I doubt it,” she snorted. “This sounds really familiar though. There’s actually been a lot of cases lately where people had surgery for something in their lungs and forgetting about their loved ones when they wake up. I think it’s something in the anaesthetic.”

“Oh…” you trailed off unsure.

“Yeah, I think it was like Hananene illness or something.”

Hanahaki

You felt like you were in the hospital again. You could hear the nurses and doctors arguing throwing that cursed word around. You kept trying to take big gulps of air but it felt like you were drowning. It was so painful. Your lungs were bursting even though there was nothing in them.

Except those wretched blue flowers.

“Earth to y/n. Earth to y/n. You ok? You look like you just remembered a ghost.” Endorsis head was no longer on your shoulder, instead her arms were gripping them, lightly shaking you.

“It was Hanahaki disease,” you said a little too quickly.

“Oh yeah it was- Wait! Did you have Hanahaki disease?”

You nodded a bit ashamedly, looking to the side.

“And it was Khun who you were in love with, that’s why you’ve forgotten him,”she whispered softly with the sudden realization.

“I can’t remember a thing about him though. I could barely even recall his name,”

Endorsi looked at you with such sadness sadness in her eyes you were scared she was going to start crying.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve known.”

You were taken aback by her strange kindness.

“Hey, it’s fine. Besides I’m alive and I’ve forgotten him so it doesn’t really matter now” you weren’t sure who you were trying to reassure.

“Still, I’m not sure how we’re going to tell him,”

“Tell who, what?” asked Shibisu, entering the room with Bam and Hatz.

Endorsi turned to you and gave you a look that said it was going to be a long night.

Silently you agreed.

A/n: sorry for leaving it off here but i did it for two reasons. one otheriwse it was gonna be a long ass story. and two, to see if people wanted a next part. literally one dm/ inbox message and i’ll do it cuz i really enjoy writing this. thank you! oh also if y’all wanna make it someone else x reader. or we could even do a little bit of khun secretly being in love and wants her back. possibilities are endless, lemme know !

#tower of god #tog #khun aguero agnis #khun x reader #khun #khun aa #khun aguero agnes #tower of god khun #kami no tou #endorsi jahad #endorsi zahard #endorsi x reader #tower of god endorsi #tog endorsi