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ladamedusoif · 4 months

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Secrets (Marcus Pike x GN!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 24

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boy Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to keep up with my writing.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x GN!Reader

Word count: 1743

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Angst; fluff; references to parental illness; no use of Y/N; no physical descriptions of reader; no gendered pronouns; minor swearing

A/N: This can be read as a standalone, but I wrote it thinking of Marcus and Reader from ‘Hot Chocolate’ and ‘Christmas Market’ in this series.

“How’s Marcus?” Your mother’s voice is bright and breezy on the call.

You pause a little too long for her liking.

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, mom, it’s just…he’s not himself, lately. I thought we were all set for the holidays - you know how we booked a little cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains - but every time I try to talk about packing or planning, he gets tetchy and weird.”

“Maybe it’s work stress? He does have a lot on. Poor Marcus.”

“So do I, mom, and I’m not taking it out on him. Every time I ask him outright he just says everything’s fine but it isn’t. It’s like he’s hiding something from me.”

Your mother tut-tuts. “That’s not Marcus. He would never keep secrets from you.”

“I wish I could be as confident as you are.”

***

With Christmas falling on a Monday, you and Marcus had planned to take off on the Saturday morning, making the most of the extra days off before the holiday. By Friday night, he’s got the bags ready to load into the car and your refrigerator is groaning with food for the vacation, all ready to be stacked in cool bags for the journey.

Things hadn’t improved much in the time since you’d voiced your fears to your mother. Marcus remained unusually tetchy and irritable, a far cry from his usual sunny self. He insisted he was looking forward to the time away with you, but there was just something off. Something hidden underneath the surface, and for the first time in your relationship he had put up enough defences so that you couldn’t reveal the truth.

Maybe he’s unhappy, you think to yourself. Maybe the vacation is make or break.

Your stomach churns as you imagine five days away with Marcus while he tries to decide if you need to end the relationship or not.

Your phone rings as you’re sorting out a couple of bottles of wine for the trip. Mom. You brush it off, muttering to yourself that you’ll call her later, once the packing is done.

It’s barely two minutes later that Marcus comes into the kitchen, talking on his phone while trying to catch your attention.

“I’ll put you on now…sure. Sure. Well, I’m sure he’ll be okay, I’m so sorry - okay, keep us posted.”

He hands you the phone, mouthing “Your mom”.

“Mom?”

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry… you’re probably up to your neck with packing and sorting for the trip.”

“Just tell me, mom. You wouldn’t call Marcus if it wasn’t urgent.”

“Darling…it’s your dad. He’s had a fall, he’s in hospital, and -”

Your heart drops. “Mom, is he okay?”

She pauses a second too long. “Fine, fine… just hasn’t regained consciousness yet but it’s fine! I just felt you would be angry if I waited until after your trip to tell you. But it’s fine!”

“Mom, you’ve said ‘it’s fine’ so many times I’m pretty sure it isn’t fine.”

“Sweetheart, please just go on your trip and we’ll keep you posted. Okay?”

You become aware of Marcus peeking around the corner, trying to assess your mood from the tone of your voice and your body language.

“Did the doctors say when they think he’ll regain consciousness?”

Another pause.

“They’re not sure, sweetie.”

You look up at Marcus, your eyes looking into his as you tell your mom you’ll be home tomorrow.

***

He swears it’s fine, but you know Marcus is annoyed. Or hurt. Or maybe a mix of both.

Shit, maybe this really was a make or break vacation.

He had offered to come with you, but you dissuaded him, not wanting him to have to be thrown head-first into the madness that was your family - crisis or no crisis.

“I’ll just stay here, I guess.” He casts an eye over the bags in the hallway.

“Babe, no.” You wrap your arms around his waist. “We paid for the cabin and it’s too late to cancel now. It would be a pity not to use it at all. You’ve got that stack of reading you want to do. And, like, when dad wakes up I can come down and join you. What do you think?”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze. “I guess.”

“I love you, Marcus. I’m so sorry.”

He sucks on the inside of his cheek and kisses you - not on the mouth, but on the cheek. “I love you, too.”

***

When you arrive home in Ohio you hop straight in a cab to the hospital, where your mother and siblings have spent the night keeping vigil. You try not to panic when you see your dad, hooked up to a morass of tubes and wires.

“The doctors say it looks worse than it is,” your older sister explained. She holds out a bag of peppermint candies. “Candy?”

It’s several hours before you realise you haven’t let Marcus know you got there safely, like you promised. Too busy trying to get a clear answer from your mom about what, exactly, the doctors have said, and distracted by trying to track down a doctor to discuss a prognosis.

Hey babe - I’m sorry, I have been talking to my mom and the doctors here. Dad okay, still no sign of improvement but stable. Love you - call you tomorrow.

You spend that night at the hospital, insisting that your mom go home and rest. You watch the dark sky brighten, slowly but surely, as Christmas Eve dawns.

“It’s Christmas Eve, dad,” you murmur, unsure if he can hear you or not. “You’re not in the drunk tank, though,” you joke, referring to his favourite Christmas song, ‘Fairytale of New York’. “Just in hospital. I’ll let you know if the NYPD choir turns up.”

You get up and stretch your legs, wandering into the hallway in search of caffeine and sugar. The hospital cafe is quiet and you grab a cup of black coffee and a donut before returning to your dad’s floor.

Panic sets in when you see nurses moving in and out of his room. One of them turns, spots you, and grins.

“He’s waking up! Can you call your mom?”

By lunchtime, he’s fully awake and talking, grumbling about not being allowed home for Christmas. You duck out later in the afternoon to call Marcus and update him.

It goes straight to voicemail.

***

The hot shower feels like heaven as you rinse away the strain of the last couple of days. Well, some of it, anyway. Marcus still hasn’t answered your calls.

Thankfully, you’ve found a distraction, volunteering to prep some food at your parents’ house that can be easily taken to the hospital for Christmas Day. You slip on a pair of soft old sweatpants and a college hoodie and pad around the kitchen, filling some Tupperware containers with individual servings of cold cuts and salads while listening to the cheesy Christmas show on the local radio station.

You crawl into bed late that night, casting one final glance at your phone.

Still nothing.

***

You stir awake at about two in the morning, roused by a thumping noise coming from somewhere in the house. As your brain adjusts, you realise it’s someone knocking on the door.

You grab your brother’s old baseball bat as you descend the stairs. Can’t hurt to be prepared, after all. And you’re pretty sure this isn’t Santa Claus calling.

You open the door slowly, reluctantly.

A pair of coffee-brown eyes. A soft, uncertain smile. Cheeks flushed with cold.

“Marcus?”

He rubs his hands together and stamps his feet. “Can I come in? Got really cold in the car on the way up here.”

You fling your arms around him as he steps inside, forgetting the strangeness of the last few weeks. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He holds his soft, dark green knitted cap in his hands and looks nervous. Really nervous.

“I… I had to see you.”

Oh, shit. Wait - is he going to break up with you on Christmas morning? While your dad’s in hospital?!

“Ooookay.”

“Baby, I -” He falters. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this.”

He is definitely about to break up with you. And good riddance, because he’s clearly heartless.

“Just get it over and done with, Marcus.”

He takes a deep breath and exhales, long and slow.

“I wanted to have the space to do this at the cabin, y’know?”

“Marcus. Just say it.”

“Baby, I’m so grateful for you - you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met, so kind, so loving, and -”

You’ve had it. “Marcus - just say you don’t want to be with me. You’ve been weird for weeks. You’re here on Christmas fucking Day, having driven a seven-hour journey to get here. You obviously can’t be with me a minute longer, so you might as well just -”

He has dropped to one knee.

Wait. What?

“I wanted to ask you to marry me.”

Your jaw drops. For once, you’re stunned into silence.

“Baby?”

“I…Marcus. I just…is this…fuck.”

He reaches into his coat pocket and presents you with a little box. “Um, do you mind if I stand up again? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

You chuckle and help him to his feet, before opening the box to find a perfect, simple engagement ring.

“I can’t believe it, Marcus.”

He shrugs. “You seemed sure we were about to break up. I’m sorry I’ve been so stressed the last few weeks, my love. I was just readying everything for a perfect proposal, in the mountains, and I was so worried you’d say no, and then the ring was delayed, and then - well. And then your dad got sick. But he’s awake? I’m sorry, I only just saw your messages. My phone was in the trunk.”

You lift your gaze from the ring. “He’s awake. And I’m sorry, too - I didn’t know what you were keeping from me, and I didn’t even think of this.”

Marcus raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you?”

You chuckle. “Mmmm. Maybe I thought a man as perfect as you couldn’t possibly want someone like me.”

He pulls you tight to him and kisses you. “Baby, you forgot something.”

You look confused. “I did?”

“You didn’t give me an answer yet.”

Tears shining in your eyes, you slip the ring on your finger. “A million times yes, Marcus Pike. Provided there are no more secrets.”

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x gn!reader #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff

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theold-ultraviolence · 2 years

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No One Like You (SIDE A)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader // available on ao3

Summary: The prospect of life after graduation year loomed heavily on your mind, just as your unspoken feelings for your best friend, Eddie Munson, were getting too difficult to contain. On a spur of courage, you decide to finally confess, through a language that both you and Eddie understood far better than words.

masterlist // TRACK 08

TRACK 09. Hysteria, Def Leppard

‘…Out of touch, out of reach, yeah

You could try to get closer to me

I'm in luck, I'm in deep, yeah

Hypnotized, I'm shakin' to my knees…’

He’s up at the crack of dawn on Monday, before Wayne can get the chance to open his eyes and prevent him from cutting school.

He knows it’s true love because no force of nature known to man could get him to wake up this early, on a Monday of all days. The photo lab doesn’t even open until 9 AM, so he’ll just drive around, listen to your mixtape and burn time until he’s right there at their doorstep like the annoying customer that everyone despises.

He decides he’s gonna drive down to school, park somewhere at a safe distance from the entrance, just to see if he could catch a glimpse of you. He pulls up by the cliffside of the woods, and true enough, there you are, pulling up on your bike already in your gym clothes, as that was the first class you had on Mondays…

“Why would they do that to us!?” You’d complain to him every time, on the odd occasion that you did cut class to hang out with him instead behind the bleachers or out in the woods. “Who puts gym first thing in the morning on the curriculum!?”

He adored the sight of you, all pouty and soft around the edges in your worn, forest green shorts and gray shirt, in total contrast to the cigarette you held between your fingers, before passing it back to Eddie…

On the fly, he hops out of his van and slithers around the mass of students, trying to remain unnoticed, pulling the collar of his leather jacket up to his ears and wrapping his bandana around his head to disguise his signature head of brunette hair.

He scurries to the back of the building once the first bell of the day rings, ready to climb up the tree and perch himself on the railing of the gym’s opened window like an absolute madman.

You’re hunched over, sitting on the bench with your head propped on your hands, looking bored out of your mind and miserable as ever. If he didn’t know any better, he’d know it’s just because you hate to be made to play volleyball first thing in the morning, with a group of people you don’t like…

“...Seriously, Eds, why can’t we have gym class together? Why can’t we have every class together, it would make everything better. I know you wouldn’t pick me last if you were a team captain.”

“Awww, you flatter me!” He had batted his eyelashes at you, gesturing with his hand so wildly that it had sent cigarette ash all over the table.

“Shut up!”

“Nah, but I agree. Maybe that way I wouldn’t be failing Mrs. O’Donnell’s, I could just copy your answers and score an instant A.”

“Wow, so that’s all I am to you, huh?” You’d said with a full grin on your face and eyes sparking with mischievous joy. “Someone to bribe to get the answers to your homework?”

“You know that’s not true, babe…”

But you’re not miserable because you have to endure your morning stuck with the normies. Even from a distance he just knows that the way in which your mouth is downturned and how your sad eyes seem to be focusing on nothing in particular is all his fault.

But it won’t be long now. If all goes according to plan, by tomorrow he’ll have you in his arms to soothe all ills from your precious heart and make up for the time that was lost.

As if sensing eyes on you, you turn directly towards the gym’s window – making him jump back down on his feet instantly, wobbling on his feet to stand when he hits the concrete.

He should really learn to be more discreet.

Otherwise you’re gonna be out there thinking you’re hallucinating his dumb ass everywhere and might end up changing your mind about him.

–

The clerk of the photolab – some guy he recognizes from chemistry class a few years ago, who had already graduated – huffs and rolls his eyes as he pulls up to unlock the door of the store upon spotting Eddie’s figure sitting on the pavement with his back to the wall.

“Munson.” The kid flatly acknowledges without making eye-contact.

“Hey, man!”

By now Eddie was used to people being put off by him so he doesn’t sweat about it – and he knows from experience that the first costumer of the day fucking sucked balls, so he tries to be as nice as he could and don’t take – Charlie, the name tag read – Charlie’s attitude to heart as he waits for him to get everything set before dumping a huge stack of film negatives on the counter.

“‘Kay, we’ll have these ready by Monday, next week.”

“What!”

That wouldn’t do. That just wouldn’t fucking do, this operation is time-sensitive!

“Hey man, Look! I need to have these ready by tomorrow, please! It’s urgent. Is that good?”

He tries to give Charlie his best puppy eyes, palms opened in a pleading gesture because he just couldn’t grab Charlie by the lapels of his blue vest to plead that he’d do this one favor for him, even when they never interacted at all back in the day.

“Tomorrow!? Are you insane, Munson!? This process just isn’t done overnight. And our best developer moved to California. We’re neck deep in orders ‘till next week.”

“No, no, no man! This is important, please! What do you want me to do?”

Fucking Charlie doesn’t even budge to his pathetic begging.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. That’s just how the thing goes.”

“Alright, alright, alright, I got it.”

He puts his tin lunchbox on the counter with a loud thud.

Everybody that was in need in Hawkins High, knew just what kind of lunch Eddie carried in that infamous box of his and it didn’t have anything to do with peanut butter and jelly.

“What’s it gonna take, huh? Special price, just for you, man. Whatta ya want?”

Eddie opens the lid and Charlie’s eyes brighten so quickly he has to do a double take to make sure he’s not already stoned by sight alone. Cautiously he reaches his hand to push away the bag of pretzels and Eddie’s wallet, which clouds the view from a bundle that’s tightly sealed in plastic wrapping.

“When do you need this, exactly?” Charlie asks, finally lifting his gaze to stare directly at Eddie.

“As soon as possible man! Think you can get them ready tomorrow?”

“Wednesday tops, that’s the best I can do, but it might be Thursday if my manager catches me sneaking this order in.” He says as he reaches for his own wallet after Eddie tells him what the price with discount would be.

“Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, man, I could kiss you!”

“Just take the money,” Charlie giggles nervously, “Now, get out of here, Munson.”

“THANK YOU!”

He sprints out the door with an uncontainable grin and a huge weight lifted off of his shoulders, now that at least part of his big master plan is being taken care of. Now all he needs to do is cruise down to Reefer Rick’s to see if he got the second part of his gift all set up.

He walks down the street to where he parked his van when he’s suddenly being called by a tune that’s all too familiar as he’s lived with it for the entire weekend…

…Hypnotized, I'm shakin' to my knees

I gotta know tonight

If you're alone tonight

Can't stop this feeling…

It’s coming from inside the Radioshack store, and he can’t help but walk inside, if only to bask in the magical, mysterious coincidence of it playing in this specific time.

The employees eye him suspiciously as he wanders aimlessly through the aisles of electronics, until he reaches one corner of the store where they have a mounted TV, with the actual video of Def Leppard’s Hysteria playing on MTV.

And ohhh, how fitting it is.

The video shows a group of couples, dancing and twirling around in a dark warehouse-type of setting, with the band playing atop a stage. They’re only illuminated by a couple of overhead lights with the rest filtering in through the windows, with moonbeams showering each couple in a hazy, dream-like manner.

The couples are diverse, but there’s one in particular in which the camera focuses on from time to time – a guy with long hair and a leather jacket much like his own, and his partner clad in denim.

They could’ve easily been the both of you.

The video even lingers on them, separated from the rest, even showing them in a sunlit scene once the song drives off to the yearning guitars of the bridge.

“Sir, do you need something?”

An employee interrupts his daydreaming, and in the trail that his eyes make to look at the guy, his sight catches something that makes everything in his head click.

“Yeah, actually I think I do…” he replies, looking at a shelf with the newest JVC camcorders.

“How much does one of those cost?”

When the employee lists the price he can’t help but whistle defeatedly – If only he hadn’t given a significant portion of his stash to goddamn Charlie man, he would’ve been able to cover the cost of the camcorder, easily.

He lifts up his gaze again to the video without paying much attention to it, as his mind flies off to the written pages of your last letter…

–

My dearest Eddie,

This is it, the last one. I feel like I’ve been writing for so long now, it feels strange to reach the end of my tale. I know the last couple of letters have been real downers, so I want to leave you with a brighter note.

‘I get hysteria when you’re near.’

Didn’t Def Leppard just aced it with these lyrics? Such effortlessly put. That’s just it. Whenever you’re around, my heart instantly does a little flip and it doesn’t ease until we’ve both said our goodbyes for the night.

‘When you get that feeling, can you believe it?’

For so long, I thought the feeling didn’t exist. I had started to believe that there was no such thing as finding true love, finding your person. Made-up bullshit invented by the candy companies to sell chocolate on Valentine’s Day, by production studios to sell their newest rom-com with the hottest star in Hollywood.

I’ve seen the couples all around me in the halls at school and I couldn’t understand how two people just got together like that? What did they feel? How did they feel? Is it like some sort of pull? How do you choose your person, and what are the odds that that person will choose you?

‘It’s such a magical mysteria.’

See? Even Def Leppard can’t explain.

‘When you get that feeling, better start believing, cause it’s a miracle.’

And it is a miracle.

I had already lost hope, Eddie. Had started to get used to the fact that maybe I was not meant to discover what that felt like, not meant to experience it. Maybe I’m part of the people that’s meant to be alone, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t need anyone to complete you, and I don’t feel like I’m missing a part of me at all. I’ve just…always longed to have someone by my side, not to fill a void but to share my life with. To walk side by side as we unfold the paths we’re meant to trail as life goes on. Someone to laugh and cry with, to struggle and celebrate with.

And I always wanted to feel that little magical feeling the songs talk about.

Hysteria by Def Leppard had never made sense to me until I met you.

And suddenly I couldn’t stop this feeling of hysteria in my heart every time you’re near me. When I get that magical, unexplainable feeling, there’s nothing more to do than to start believing.

You make me believe that it’s still possible for me.

And as Joe Elliot so wonderfully says,

‘Dream me off my feet, oh believe in me.’

Here’s to believing, Eddie.

I end my letters to you, hoping that we’ll be happy, no matter what happens.

That’s what love is, I’ve learned. Hoping for happiness, and believing in happiness, regardless of the circumstance.

With all my love,

(Y/N).

… He doesn’t hesitate then.

He’s gonna end up broke as shit but it would be so, so worth it.

You’re worth everything and more.

–

Your heart feels a little bit hollow when Friday rolls around and you haven’t heard from Eddie.

You’re convinced he's avoiding you. He has to be, right? After he drove off like that?

When you’d ask around with the Hellfire Club, they’d all told you the same thing; that he wasn’t answering their calls, that he hadn’t been to any of his classes, or even band practice.

Had your letters been so cringeworthy that he had to flee from town? Fuck, what an idiot, you shouldn’t have done that, you knew you’d spook him away!

The chime of the last Friday bell grants you enough presence of mind to cut the flow of those intrusive thoughts and at least make it to your locker in one fluid motion. You’re just aching to grab your books for the weekend and get the hell out of here, order some junk food and wallow inside a fort of blankets. Maybe watch a rom-com, to add more insult to injury.

But when you open your locker, your heart stops – feels like it’s about to teeter down right to your stomach.

There’s this chunky, caramel brown binder that could barely fit with the rest of your books and an envelope that’s peeking through its pages.

You take a look around to either side of you, down the halls, to make sure this isn’t some kind of sick joke; maybe someone that had gotten a hold of your own letters to Eddie and decided to pull a prank on you, but everyone’s too preoccupied with rushing to the main halls for the weekend.

You tread carefully as you open the envelope, and pull out a simple piece of paper with messy handwriting that reads,

“Sweet child o’ mine, this is for you…”

E. M.

–

‘Oh it's a miracle

Oh say you will, oh babe

Say you will

Get closer to me, get closer baby’

(Up next: TRACK 10. Sweet Child O' Mine, Guns N' Roses)

taglist: @sweet--em

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #reader insert #stranger things #fanfiction #joseph quinn #friends to lovers #romance #slow burn #my writing #no st4 spoilers

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halleymacleod666 · 2 years

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3 binge days..... it's gonna take at least 3 fasting days to go back to where I was. Why did I do that, why did I ruin the progress I made, the food was so not worth it, it's never worth it.

I've had enough of myself, I'm starting today, right now, not tomorrow, not Monday, not next month, not next year, RIGHT NOW, there is no tomorrow, there's only right here and now, I've postponed success enough.

I'm gonna become "that girl". I decided. Whatever my definition of "that girl" is, of the perfect me, I'm gonna be that. Starting now.

First, I'm gonna make tea cause I have a cold.

I'm gonna go braid my hair so it's pretty for tomorrow for work.

I'm gonna put on a tv show and clean every inch of my apartment and organize everything no matter how long it takes, ill be up all night if i have to.

I'm gonna get out of bed on time and get ready for work.

I'm gonna show up to work with a smile on my face and use all the free time I have there for studying and I'm gonna do it every damn day no matter how tired I am. There's a quote in one of my favorite TV shows that goes "you either do it right, with a smile, or don't do it at all". No matter how bad I'm feeling, if I wanna be successful that's what I'm gonna do, grind every day on my 9-5 job I fucking hate and bust my ass studying and learning so that one day I won't have to do that 9-5, so that I can finally be happy and do something that matters, I didn't drop out of college to be a failure.

I'm gonna stop eating, food is just a form of procrastination that I keep using and which I definitely need to stop, if I can grab control of food maybe I can grab control of the rest of my life as well.

I'm gonna grab my water bottle and termose with tea to work everyday.

I'm gonna show up well groomed and not look like I just got out of bed.

When I do eat, I'm gonna eat small and healthy portions, like a girl I wanna be would eat.

I'm gonna workout daily

#tw ed rant #anorexik #eating disoder things #ed diet #i want to be th1n #meanspp #model thin #thinner is better #tw ana thoughts #tw ed diet

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shygirrrl · 1 year

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I have my last dbt session tomorrow and yeah look, I’m happy it’s the last one. Like, I am feeling so much better and so much more grounded and like all the self care and actually making an effort with myself has actually started paying off. Like yeah it’s not ideal that I have literally $4 to my name but I’m also like… I’m not dead hun 🤷🏻‍♀️

I don’t know, dbt makes me feel emotionally dumb. Like I don’t know if you ask me how I normally feel I’m usually just tired or hungry and I know that’s not an emotion but it’s the truth ok sis I’m a numb gal. Yeah but then suddenly I have moments where it hits me and I want to die but yeah look I’m a mess but I’m trying my best. And like the sessions have been at 9:00 AM on a Monday so I literally have been waking up after snoozing my alarm, rushing to my computer and throwing some clothes on and doing the Telehealth session and I’m like just not able to connect like with it like she talks to me and there’s literally not one thought in my brain because I probably haven’t had coffee or food or sunlight yet and it generally takes me about an hour to wake up and be ready to hold human conversations. It’s probably something to tell my therapist but I’m just so good at not talking about it that I’ll keep doing that, who knows. But yeah look I don’t think I click with this lady because she’s like how do you feel emotionally about that and I’m like wow hun, ease up. I only talk about my emotions with my romantic partner ok jeez

And she was like just looking at you you don’t seem overly distressed are you just good at masking and I kind of was like sis I feel like that’s one of the worst thjngs you can say to a mentally ill person because FUCK I GET IT ALL THE TIME. I know I look like a placid turtle. Pls don’t remind me I don’t look like what a typical distressed person looks like.

And she was like oh how do you like deal with therapy, like do you go away and think about it after or do you come prepared and I was like I literally have no idea sis, I don’t do either like all she told me in the first session to take notice of my emotions and to validate them and I was kinda like oh like ok. Like I kinda do that already and she was like ok I’ll send you an emotion wheel x and I was like cool x

And she never sent me the damn emotion wheel so I guess I’ll never know my emotions. Nah I’m just being dramatic for real but…

OH and she said I need to journal so I don’t look like a deer in headlights when I’m asked questions but I literally just think that’s me lol (I already journal also)

So here I am considering quitting therapy completely because I’m like ok like LOOK dbt was okay, like it was a good refresher and it was kinda reassuring that like most of the things she recommended I was like already applying and doing (aka not believing every thought in my head, or reframing or whatever the heck it’s called, and like I dunno like exercising and meditating and MEDITATING 🍃

Nah but honestly I have no idea it’s kinda made me like maybe there’s not a whole lot more I can get out of therapy like… but I dunno??

Like I’m hoping I can move back with my normal therapist but I don’t know if she’s going to want for me to keep doing dbt instead and idk I’m kinda like nah I think I’ve had enough.

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necromancer-nonbinary · 2 years

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😶

#ok in some ways it is a relief. but mostly its just annoying #we are supposed to make up hours we miss at work. bullshit but that is a whole other rant.#i called in last monday because i was cumulatively exhausted and hadn't really had a weekend so i said okay time for a break.#and it was great! end of the day i thought you know what im totally ready to go to work tomorrow #(feeling faded by thursday but that is beside the point)#anyway boss came over and reminded me hey make up the hours #and i assumed i could do so at any point in the pay period (and also forgot for a few days) so i have been doing it this week #stayed an extra hour tues wed and yesterday was gonna do it again today and then only have to do 4 hours tomorrow so maybe id have energy #but today he came by again and was like hey. im looking at the timesheet and i see what youre trying to do #but youre supposed to do it that same week because now this is counting as overtime instead #and yeah. glad to know i can leave at a normal time (hell could even leave early) today and that i dont have to come tomorrow #but perhaps you should have made this clear the first time maybe?#'ill let it go because i like you' no let it go because it was an honest misunderstanding idiot #between the extra hours and the awful reorganization theyve been doing this week i am already back where i started re: tired #fucking stupid

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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From Eden: Four

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, mentions of mental illness, grieving, trauma, panic attack; delusion, manipulation, drugging, intimidation.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The mc suffers from agoraphobia. After a new neighbour moves in across the street, her home becomes even more of a prison.

Note: Well, here’s the next chapter of this creeper story and this one even had me a little shook.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Transcript:

Sunday

It’s Sunday now and she’s asleep. At last. She wouldn’t drink the tea so I had to make her. I promised her it was just chamomile to keep her calm, a half-lie. Now she’s sleeping, her soft breaths against my elbow as I sit with her.

She screamed when she found me in the house. Then the panic made it hard for her to breathe and I had to count with her. She couldn’t even remember what came after three so I kept my hand over her mouth until she was woozy and weak. Now the pills will keep her asleep until I’m ready. Until she’s ready. I found the old bottle in her cupboard, if they’re expired, that means they might not last.

I read it all. These pages of her thoughts. She’s so alone, so confused she can’t even see that I only want to take care of her. That she needs me. Her doctor, her caretaker, they can’t really help her. I know it better than anyone.

A diagnosis does nothing, hell, this journal does nothing. The doctors say writing down the mess helps sort it all out. What a bunch of liars. And what can they do for her but keep her in this house all alone and take her inheritance. That’s all they want, to be paid for their empty words.

She doesn’t have to pay me, I will help her.

Monday

She tried to scream when she woke up. I had to cover her mouth again and hold her down in her bed. I hated it, seeing her so afraid. She didn’t stop flailing and the tears trickled down her cheeks and temples in her terror. I hushed her and begged her to be quiet, she did but her round eyes assured me she was still afraid.

I let her sit up as I took away my hand. I never meant to touch her with that one. The metal is so harsh and inhuman, I only want her to feel me.

She mopped her face as I looked through the closet and I found a pretty dress with the same purple colour as the pansies I brought her all those weeks ago.

I gave it to her and told her to get dressed while I called Tisha. I assured her that the girl is okay, she is, she’s safe and she has me. The doctor’s happy to have someone there with her and added that she’s even more happy that she’s warming up to me.

She mentioned it was tough for the girl to trust men. I can’t blame her, I have met too many evil ones too.

Now she’s sitting at the table and eating some pancakes with blueberry syrup. She keeps looking at me and I see her eyes linger on the journal.

I told her I just want to know her and this is the best way. If she won’t talk to me, I need to learn about her another way. The more I read, the more I realise we’re so much alike.

She’s so precious, the way her tongue flicks over her lips to lick up up the sticky syrup. She trembles just a little as she cuts the fluffy pancakes with her forks and stabs them.

This place needs a good cleaning. It’s stuffy and dusty and smells of mildew. It will give me something to do then maybe we can sort out the garden. I didn’t realise picking those tulips would leave such a mess. Well, I could find some sunflowers to replant from the garden center down at the depot. I think she’ll like that.

She’s crying again.

Tuesday

I had to give her more of the pills. After Tisha came by to evaluate her and Lorena dropped off the groceries, I saw how fidgety she was. Her voice shook as she spoke with them and I worked on fixing that shed window once and for all.

The doctor commented on how kind that was but it had to be done. This place really needs to be fixed up. How could such a precious creature live like this for so long? How could she be hidden away from the world when she’s so beautiful? I know why. I see it in her eyes, the same deep cracks I see in my own. She’s been hurt.

When Lorena was finally gone and we were alone, she began to sob and even hit me. She tried to push me away and told me to go. I had to stop her, I had to…

I don’t want to write about what I had to do but I didn’t hurt her. I just made sure she stopped and I got her some more tea. She drank it as she sniffled and I watched her as she set down the mug. It wasn’t long before she slumped and began to snore.

I pulled her down so she’s comfortable across the couch, a pillow under her head with the little throw over her middle. She looks peaceful. While she’s sleeping, I’ll make some dinner and maybe a dessert. She has lots of cookbooks around here. I want her to realise everything I can do for her, that she doesn’t have to do everything alone.

Wednesday

I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t thinking.

She didn’t wake up for dinner so I left it in the stove to keep warm. I ate when my stomach began to grumble and the tart I made wasn’t too bad, just a little dry. I got washed up and came out to check on her again. She was still dead out so I moved her over and sat to feel her breath against my fingers.

I couldn’t help but admire her as she slumbered. I felt her soft lips and had to poke my finger just inside. I felt the stirring and I knew I should go, get dressed and come back to take her to bed. She could have her dinner tomorrow.

But I didn’t.

It was so fast. It hurt how hard I suddenly was as I let my hand wander along her throat and down her chest. I peeked under her shirt, she’s very womanly, so soft and warm. I did stop…

For a couple minutes. I don’t know. It felt so weird. Like I wasn’t me, like it wasn’t my body. It felt like those days when my mind wasn’t my own and I just watched from the side as horrible things happened. As I did those things.

My hand was between her legs before I realised it. I rubbed her warm cunt, I couldn’t get enough of it. It was so soft, so wet, so welcoming. I rubbed and rubbed until I heard her low breaths hitch.

She didn’t wake, the pills heavy on her eyelids still. I pulled open my towel and pulled her hand against my cock. She touched me too, I helped her as she slept. I moved her hand as my own continued to explore her. Her body twitched and she came as hre bud throbbed beneath my fingertips.

I came too and watched the ropes drip down her hand. I kept her hand around me, moving it until I was so oversensitive and tender that I gasped. Her hand was slick with me and the sight of her glistening palm is intoxicating. My cum is still there on her hand.

She’s on the couch still. I don’t know what will happen if I move her to the bed. I’m afraid to find out… but excited too.

Thursday

Today was a good day!

I took her out to the garden to see the flowers I ordered. I still can’t leave her, she’s not ready. I helped her plant them and her hand kept touching mine. She would flinch but I saw the way she pressed her fingertips to her palm after as if basking in it.

When we finished, she even made lunch. We sat and ate, quietly, but I don’t mind. I’m not very talkative either and I understand, a lot has changed in a life that hasn’t changed for a very long time.

As she finished her soup, dipping the crusts of her sandwich into the tomato broth, I went to the living room and looked at the old victrola. I knelt to examine the records and I knew many of them to my delight. This place reminds me of a lot of things, as if I’ve found everything that I lost.

She came and watched me from the door. When she’s nervous, she moves around a lot and she teetered on her feet as she clasped her hands. I smiled at her, I wanted her to smile back but she just blinked.

“What’s your favourite?” I asked, “you have Garland? Sinatra? Armstrong?”

“I like them all,” her voice was so thin I barely heard it.

I took out a Louis Armstrong vinyl and dropped the needle. She shied away as I went to her but that’s how the girls always were at the dance hall. I took her hand and she didn’t resist further. I drew her to me and led her as her untrained feet tried not to stomp on mine. For a moment, I was back there again, before the war, before the uniform, before the train.

It was just me and my gal!

Friday

Last night, I gave her more pills. I caught her in the garden just after dinner. I was washing up and she snuck out like a naughty child. She was by the gate when I came out, peering out into the street. The new lock was still in place, the one she doesn’t have the key to.

She began to cry as I told her to come back in. She said she wanted to leave if I wouldn’t. I told her she was being dramatic and she needed her tea. She said she’s afraid of me. Afraid? What have I done but taken care of her when her doctor and caretaker can only be bothered when they ‘have time’.

She calmed down and drank her tea and had some of the tart. She liked it a lot and I said I’d get more strawberries, she didn’t need to send Lorena this time. She’s in bed now, still asleep.

Later

I thought I heard her so I went to check on her. She had kicked off her blankets, she must have been hot. So I pulled out a night gown from her dresser and took off her jeans and her shirt. It took me a moment to process her nakedness and I got that same tingle from nights ago.

I couldn’t help but touch her just a little. She was wet again, as if she was expecting it. So long together and I can’t blame her for wanting me but I know she’s too shy to say it. When she’s awake, she just gets in her own way.

I’m not going to make excuses. I lost control. I touched myself too and before I knew it I was on top of her. She was still only in her bra and panties and her tits fell out as I shook the bed.

My hand is hardly enough but I didn’t want to rush this. I played with her chest just a little, her nipples went hard and I had to taste them.

When I was ready to explode, I stayed bent over her and pulled down her panties. I came on her but I didn’t enter her. Not yet, as much as it hurts, it’s not time yet. I left her covered in my cum and pulled her panties back up. I took off her bra and dressed her in the night gown.

Now I’m just winding down and I’ll sleep too soon. I’ll hold her and think about my cum still in her panties. Maybe I’ll do a little more, use her hand a little to release a little more tension. It’s so hard being so close but I have to take it slow. For her.

Saturday

I kissed her good morning and today she didn’t pull away. She didn’t do much until I told her to get up. When she did, she didn’t even try to cover herself as her night gown had ridden up in her sleep.

And I saw the way she stared at my body, my boxers all I had on. When she realised I caught her, she quickly looked away.

She also didn’t know I noticed how she tugged on her panties and shifted on her legs awkwardly. No doubt she could feel me still but she wouldn’t know why.

She’s in the shower now and I’m waiting for the coffee to brew. I can hear the patter of water and I wanted badly to join her and help her scrub her body, admire it beneath the trickle as it explores every crevice I long to.

I know I can’t and just thinking of it is making it hard to sit still. I thought playing with her hand last night would keep me happy for a little longer. That it would help my thoughts and my patience but now I want to do everything and more. And I want her to know it this time. To feel it.

No. Not yet. But I can still make her smile. When she comes out I’ll give her her new journal, with pages not about to fall away from the spine and unstained by errant drops of tea. I can’t wait to see her surprise!

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #captain america #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #from eden #mcu #marvel

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janekfan · 3 years

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Duress

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30665933

As ever, Jon’s timing was impeccable.

Impeccably awful.

Barely a month into his new “promotion” and already he could feel a toll. If he was completely honest with himself he hadn’t expected quite this level of work despite not being a stranger to long hours. To put it bluntly, the archives were a mess. Gertrude hadn’t left any clues as to how filing was done and it all seemed so haphazard he had to wonder if it wasn’t on purpose. He was up to his elbows in files he’d found in a water stained cardboard box when Tim sauntered up, looking down his nose at the papers in disgust. Jon wished he would help and didn’t know how to ask for it with their relationship as strained as it currently was. Tim had silently allied with Sasha when Elias made the announcement and they were all navigating the current situation gingerly. Jon didn’t blame him. She needed support. The statements and recordings and organization could wait until they were ready.

“Hey there, boss. Was wondering if you wanted to come out with us tonight.”

Oh, of course. It was Friday, wasn’t it.

Jon looked around his office, strewn with papers and post-its and worse off than it was this morning. Guilt welled up in him like blood from a wound. Tim was losing his already limited patience with him.

“Uh, yes, that would be nice. It has been a while.” He leaned back and wiped his dusty hands off on his trousers adding to the light streaks already there.

“Yeah, I’ll say. Too important to hang out with us now, ey Jon? Now that you’re a corporate bigwig?”

“I am not!” Tim held his hands up in supplication.

“Just kidding, yeah?” It didn’t sound like it was just anything; certainly not the jokes Tim used to tell. This just felt cruel, probably because Tim thought it was the truth. Jon could admit he was prickly and difficult and knew he never won over many. If he lost Tim and Sasha over this he didn’t know what he would do. “Usual place.”

That exchange happened hours ago and Jon didn’t feel well. He couldn’t go out like this, pulse pounding, head throbbing, vision swimming. He’d have to cancel. But he’d canceled at the last minute on them so many times before and he could tell their patience was wearing thin. How was he supposed to choose between his new job and his old friends? Why couldn’t he just be normal for once?

Why did Tim choose now to forget this sometimes happened?

Any moment they’d be by to collect him and Jon was so dizzy he wasn’t altogether sure if he could stand. He hadn’t felt like this since Uni when he and Georgie spent many a late night studying for exams. He’d crashed shortly after, struck down with some illness or another, and barely remembered more than a glimpse of her face staring down at him with concern. Surely they would understand?

“Ready, boss?” Casual with his jacket over one shoulder, Tim leaned into the office, scowling when he laid eyes on him, exasperated. “Really, Jon?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Tim scoffed. “S’sorry. I know it’s rude, I’m just. Tired.” That was a part of it anyway.

“You know, Jon, you say you still want to be friends and then never hang out with us.”

“I know, I’m--”

“You’ve cancelled so many times at this point I don’t know if it’s even worth inviting you.” Jon’s heart nearly stopped, a painful lurch that all but choked him.

“...Please.” Bare more than a whisper, Tim raised an eyebrow in question.

“What?”

“P’please keep inviting me.” If Jon wasn’t so sure he’d pass out upon standing he’d be springing to his feet. “I, I, I’m there. Next Friday, bells on, I swear.”

“And tonight?” Cold sweat slipped down his spine. But if he rested this weekend, took it easy next week, maybe asked them for a bit more help-- “Sure, boss.”

The weekend came and went and Jon tried every trick in the small volume of self-care tips he actually paid attention to. He wanted to show them what they meant to him, even Martin, new and bungling as he was. If they were to be a team, he needed to get to know him. And besides, Sash and Tim enjoyed his company. Had been inviting him out the whole while. Unfortunately, Jon was still exhausted from not sleeping well for bad dreams and restlessness, not eating enough because anxiety turned his stomach. But he’d made a promise and he vowed to make good on it.

Monday saw a fresh pile of work stacked neatly in the center of his desk blotter, old assignments shoved off to the side and a note in Elias’ neat scrawl informing him that this was the priority. Jon spent the next hour putting together the things he’d been in the process of collating and jotting down a list of instructions that even Martin could follow before dragging it out to where his assistants were working.

“Hullo, Jon.” Bright and cheery, Martin chirped a greeting and Jon forced a small smile.

“Morning.” Tim and Sasha nodded back, expectant looks on their faces. “I, um. Well, Elias brought in some more documents for me to take a look at.”

“Promotion came with some extra obligations, did it?” Tim laughed, elbowing Sasha good naturedly.

“Yes, I suppose it, it did.” Jon shifted nervously, anticipating the answer even before he’d asked. “I was hoping you would be able to help me with these ones?” He lifted the stack and Tim made a show of whistling.

“Wow, I mean. I would, boss, but I’m in the middle of this other thing you gave me last week.”

“Oh. I was. Well I was rather hoping you’d have wrapped that up by now.” The room began to tunnel and Jon staggered just a step even though he was standing still. He hadn’t been able to use his cane and handle this veritable mountain.

“You and me both.”

“Jon?” Martin’s worry was more embarrassing than anything else and he forced himself to focus despite the trembling in his hands. “I can take some of them.” But the messy heap on the corner of his desk in danger of toppling hardly seemed smaller than it had the week before. It wouldn’t do to add even more to what the other man couldn’t seem to handle but...

“Th’thank you for the offer.” He selected a few slim folders and handed them off and somehow the work in his arms became heavier.

“No problem!” Martin was beaming so he must have done something right and it sparked a bit of warmth in him. “I’ll make an exchange for another, soon as I finish this up.”

Tuesday went much the same, though Jon’s insomnia and sore joints forced him out of bed and he decided to use the gift of time to come in early to get a bigger start on the old mess so he had more time for the new mess and while Martin was slow it helped to have someone else tackling it with him. He suspected that Tim and Sasha were making a statement in their being shiftless and Jon couldn’t find it in himself to address it instead hoping that once he proved himself they could move past it. Using the stairs proved foolish as Jon nearly took a header from vertigo and he thanked the stars he was early and alone so he could sit down and wait for the episode to pass. Lord, he hurt. Joints on fire, white-hot fire pokers of pressure needling his hips. He hung his head when tears of frustration began to fall.

Wednesday found Jon buried alive and struggling. He had to stay late in order to finish out the day and by the time he made it home he could barely stand, falling into bed and waking the next morning still dressed in his wingtips and work clothes. Marginally better for the rest, Jon used the boon to plow through the rest of Elias’ assignment, skipping lunch he knew he wouldn’t eat anyway to finish.

“Oh, Tim!” He called out his door as he passed, relieved that he wasn’t ignored. “When you have a moment could you take these up to Rosie?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Jon pushed away the disappointment when the end of day came, his assistants left, and the box still sat on the corner of his desk.

No bother, Tim probably forgot and Jon searched the stacks for the department’s hand truck with its one sticky wheel and found it loaded up with more of Gertrude’s chaos. He didn’t have much choice than to shove at it unceremoniously until it toppled over, papers fluttering out of their folders and under shelves. He’d just have to deal with it later. What’s one more thing? When he tugged, his shoulder very nearly came loose and his yelp of pain was swallowed up in the dark and the dust. Noone around to hear him anyway.

More tears.

He was a mess.

He went along more carefully, cursing the squeak of the blasted wheel, cursing Tim for his forgetfulness, cursing Elias for letting him even steal the job from Sasha to begin with. Cursing time itself because he wanted to go home and it was already an hour past.

“Rosie, I’m so glad I caught you.” She was just starting to collect her bag. “Can I leave this for Elias to collect when he gets in?”

“Of course, Jon!” She helped him lift it to her desk and disguised his taking a rest with interest in her writing a note of explanation.

“Thank you, you really are a lifesaver.” Jon chuffed a weak and humourless laugh. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Of course, dear. Just take that along with you so I don’t have to hear about it from the night staff.” The dolly. Yes. It would have to go back down with him wouldn’t it?

Thursday Jon could barely lift his arms. The debacle from the day before had taken whatever they had left and he was scared that at any moment, his arm would drop from its socket. That happened sometimes. So far, no doctor had figured out why.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Tim jolted him out of staring at his pen cup and the surprise set his heart to racing. Jon didn’t know how many minutes he’d lost.

“Ah, uh.” Absently, he rubbed at his chest, willing the battering tempo to slow before it shook him apart.

“Boss.” It sounded too much like a warning and felt too much like his last chance to prove he had what it took to be their friend.

“I’m not backing out!” Quick to cover up his fumble. “Don’t forget to collect me.”

“Never!” Jon couldn’t help but hope he did.

It was a short walk to their usual pub and Jon pushed himself to keep up, breaking out in cold sweat as the nausea from his laboring heart rocked his stomach. He couldn’t wait to sit down. They were regulars enough that the first round appeared before them as if by magic. Jon sank into the conversation around him, sipping from his pint, wishing it was water, and interjecting when he felt up to it. Martin kept staring at him. Jon didn’t have the energy to pretend.

“Oh come on, boss! Our company can’t be that boring!” Tim was three drinks in and clapped Jon hard enough on the shoulder to rattle his bones. Jon bit his tongue so hard he tasted iron.

“Ah, no, just a long week.” His voice was papery as a wasp nest, thin and drawn. “Looking forward to a lie in.”

“Aren’t we all?” Tim drained his glass and Jon looked down at the worn scratched surface of the table to hide his irrational irritability with the statement. He didn’t corner the market on sleeping in. The others deserved a restful weekend just as much as he did.

“I’m surprised you managed to make it through Elias’ busy work.” Sasha murmured, selecting a chip and using it as a means for sauce delivery.

“Martin helped a great deal.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Jon, but we know who worked his way through the majority.” They exchanged a warm smile.

“Yes, well. Any you did, I didn’t have to. It was very much appreciated.” Martin was bright red and Jon’s cheeks were warm, from alcohol or otherwise, and Tim’s cawing laughter rang bright as a bell over the cacophony around them.

“You’ve broken him, Jon!” They caroused well into the evening until Martin mercifully faked a yawn and explained he had an early morning. Jon almost hugged him and if it weren’t for the state of his shoddy joints he may well have. Holding up a very drunk and very affectionate Tim, Sasha nodded to him.

“This was lovely.” Her grin beamed. “We’ll have to do this again.”

Jon dreaded it.

That month they dragged Jon out to the shops for lunch a few times each week. Catching dinner after work became a regular occurance. Sasha hosted a movie night one weekend. Friday nights at the pub continued.

Jon wasn’t sure which was worse; the exhaustion or the steadily increasing pain, but it felt worth it when the frosty attitude began to thaw. They were still friends. That’s what counted even though the littlest tasks had become huge when faced with choosing which ones to do at the cost of himself. He knew better and still he was overspending, going into the red just to collect more and more debt with no way to catch up other than lose his friends. Something was going to break. Jon hoped it wouldn’t be him.

Groggy, slow, Jon came to with his cheek mashed into the statement he’d been skimming. Something was...wrong. His heart. Racing, pounding against his breastbone, trying to hammer its way to freedom or jump straight out his throat. He blinked hard, trying to bring anything into focus and failing. The first attempt to stand had him face down on the desk again, the next he took in steps.

Sit up. Let the room stop moving.

Breathe. In. Out. Count them.

Ignore the agonized beating. Ignore the fear that came with it.

Stand. Slow. Wait. Patient.

Let the world fall still.

Jon didn’t bother picking up his bag. His phone, wallet, keys, all in his trouser pockets.

“Sorry all. I. I think.” He paused, gulping for air, swallowing none. “Need to go, go home.” If what made it out of him were even close to words he’d consider himself lucky. His tongue was thick and clumsy in his mouth, tripping up the syllables fighting their way past the rabbit-quick hammering,

hammering,

hammering.

“What’s wrong?” Sasha was at his elbow, Tim halfway out of his seat.

“Not feeling well.”

“You sure you can get home, boss?” Nodding absently Jon made his way carefully to the lift before Martin could offer to call him a cab or something equally ridiculous.

Muscle memory got him back to his flat and it wasn’t until he collapsed into bed that he remembered it was Friday and he’d again ducked out on drinks again. Tears collected on his lashes, slipping down his temples when his trembling got the better of them. They. This. All his hard work and he’d undone it. Before the encroaching black overtook him he fumbled with his phone, tapping out an apology to the group chat and barely managing to hit send.

He slipped in and out. Lucid one moment, hallucinating the next, burning away to nothing and ending up on the floor more than once after passing out attempting to, to…didn’t matter. There wasn’t enough in him to attempt it again, opting to lay flat on his back in the sweat soaked sheets trying not to move for the pain. For a wild, hysterical moment Jon was sure he would die here, alone, phone just out of reach, melting in wretched heat and so uncomfortably hot it was difficult to remember a time when he wasn’t.

Jon hurt.

Everything was darkness and agony. Each tremor an earthquake threatening to tear him apart. He was trapped in treacle, done up in bits of twine, strung together with razor wire and unable to move. It was a familiar voice that clawed its way down to him. Lifted him up, low and soft, a stone tumbling down a mountain and catching Jon up in the landslide. He thought he answered, made some attempt at a response, drawn out of him like water from a well. Hurting and disoriented Jon drifted. Consciousness slipping in and out through his fingers like the surf, breath like coals banked beneath his ribs. Jon’s body wouldn’t cooperate as it should and time seemed to skip from one moment to the next between long bouts of nothing.

A heavy palm, cool and comforting, came to rest over his forehead and Tim materialized out of nowhere, startling Jon enough that he keened when each joint shrieked and protested at his moving.

“Sh, sh, shh.” Tim. That’s right...he wasn’t sure it was true, but he was wiping down his over sensitive skin with a damp flannel to quell the coals for a handful of moments.

“Wha’s..?”

“When you didn’t come in yesterday or this morning, we figured we should check on you.” So many words. Too many to parse more than a few but the flood came anyway, streaking into his greasy hair because he’d been sure no one would come and Tim kept applying the cold compress; wrung, applied, repeated, and Jon sobbed with the simple relief of it, tears cool against the incandescence of his skin.

“Are you...l’leaving?” He winced at the raw scrape of his voice against his vocal cords. “Been. You’been s’so angry with m’me.” Tim’s face fell and Jon wanted to apologize. It was the illness, that’s all, lowering his defenses and simmering his many insecurities just below a fractured awareness that refused to keep them in where they belonged. Instead his breath hitched and he choked on a whimper of defeat. “Tri’tried so hard ‘nd still. M’sorry.”

“It’s alright.” So unbelievably soft. Jon thought he’d ruined this long ago and the tears came somehow faster. “I think we need to call an ambulance, bud.”

“No...nonono…” Jon didn’t want to be poked and prodded by strangers and stuck full of needles alone in a cold sterile room. Even in his ragged state Jon could see Tim was torn. “Pl’please.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed, gentling him with a touch. “But if you can’t keep this down we have to go.” Medicine. Lucozade. Fed to him mouthful by mouthful in the intervals he was awake.

Quiet sounds he recognized, Martin. Sasha. Hushed. Martin tipped the next sip into him and Jon wasn’t aware of much, but he was aware enough to know he was disgusting after having slept and sweated in the same bedclothes for days. Martin wouldn’t hear of it and Jon didn’t know where to put all the feelings and he was so tired of crying and couldn’t seem to stop.

Sasha, they told him, has gone out for supplies and they asked if he’d like help getting out of his uncomfortable trousers and button down, now missing several buttons no doubt from his restlessness. Jon didn’t trust his voice, only nodded, trying and failing to sit up, losing consciousness entirely when one of them levered him up with an arm behind his shoulders. Tim was explaining it to Martin when he came around, peering up at them through fluttering lashes.

“S’al’...” Clumsy, the words wouldn’t come to him.

Together, they shift his limbs, passing him back and forth between, one moment resting against Martin’s chest, another tucked into the hollow where Tim’s shoulder and neck meet. He should be helping but he can barely stay with them, just concentrating on the pulse currently beneath his ear to ground him. Carefully, as though he is some precious thing, they rid him of the awful, disagreeable stickiness and their low murmuring seems such an intimate thing. He isn’t worth it. This. And then soft, clean clothes, well worn and familiar and when Jon surfaces again he’s with Tim on the sofa, bundled up and more comfortable than he’d been in months.

Martin is changing his sheets.

“I’m sorry, Jon.” He didn’t know what for and shook his head, or tried anyway. “Made you think you had to push yourself like that. Ignored how exhausted you were and guilt tripped you into not telling us ‘no’.” Lord, so many words, Jon dizzied himself trying to catch them, hold them, decipher them. “You should be able to trust us, and I.” A suspicious sniff. “I’m sorry.” Jon relaxed into him with a hum he hoped conveyed something.

“I think I remembered which meds he tolerated best.” Sasha elbowed her way into the flat, face lighting up when she saw he was awake. Kind of. “Jon! Thank god. You were in such a bad way.” Whispery and rushed, the same feeling in it as with Tim. “Let's get you dosed up and back to bed, okay?”

It was late evening judging by the window. The reading lamp was on. Martin sat beside him with a book he couldn’t recognize by cover alone.

“Mah’in..?” So it hadn’t all been a hallucination after all.

“There you are.”

“Miss’d work.” He nodded, uncapping a bottle of sports drink and holding it to his chapped lips. Jon drank what he could.

“Not important right now, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Gave us a scare.” Easy, like it was nothing in the world to do it, Martin laid the back of his fingers against his neck, against his throat. “That’s a relief. Tim called us in a panic.” By way of explanation. “But I think you’re past the worst of it now.”

“Don’, don’ remember.”

“Probably for the best. We’ve decided, if you’re alright with the arrangement, that one of us should stay with you.” That sounded okay even if normally Jon would fight it tooth and nail. He did remember being alone and scared. “Tim and Sash are talking. I get the feeling we missed something very important.”

“Mm.” Jon tried to sit up and swooned, came around with a pillow behind his back.

“Dunno if I’ll get used to that any time soon though, I’ll be honest.”

“Happens sometimes. Th’that’s why…” Martin picked up the thread.

“You cancelled on us. I understand. And I hope, I hope you know you can always tell me, us, I hope, when you need to. There’s no shame in it. I’ll admit, I’m upset with Tim.” He fussed with the quilts, smoothing out imaginary creases. “He knew this was something to look out for and he didn’t tell me.”

“No, it’s--”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Martin spoke with conviction. “Ever. I don’t want you to, to push yourself like this for a blasted game night. We can do other things as a department. Things that don’t jeopardize your health like this again.”

“Martin’s right.” Sasha sat at his feet, draping a hand over his ankle, and Tim stood at the foot of the bed. He looked proper chastised, eyes rimmed in red and swollen from crying.

“I’m so sorry, Jon. So sorry. I should never--I was angry and frustrated and used it to. To hurt you. Make you think we’d stop being friends over a stupid night out. Not like I lifted a hand to help you! When I knew you wouldn’t ask a second time!”

“S’okay.”

“It’s not!” Tim was a staunch friend. The type who got to know you so well and sometimes aimed too precisely at your soft parts. He didn’t need another telling off. Exhaustion lapping at his limbs, Jon curled his fingers in poor imitation of a come hither gesture. Willingly, Tim allowed himself to be pulled along by it, slotting himself beside Jon on the mattress to hide his own tears in his chest. Graceless, Jon managed to tug a hand over the back of his head, tangling fingers in Tim's hair, surrounded by friends and not alone.

“Will be, then.”

#TMA #the magnus archives #season one #jon sims #martin blackwood #sasha james #tim stoker #insecurity #lack of communication #sickfic #sick jon #fever #chronic illness #ehlers danlos syndrome #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #EDS #Pots #undiagnosed chronic illness

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naamahdarling · 4 years

Text

Monday: Try to call my low cost mental health clinic cause I'm feeling rough and think I might need a meds adjustment. I forgot, it's labor day or something, and they don't answer. I don't get a day off from being mentally ill but hey, I still hope they're having a nice time. 👍

Tuesday: Call again, ask to speak to Cool NP. Get appointment for the next day. Okay, cool, I can wait. ✔

Wednesday: Appointment! Cool NP ups my dose and sends it to the Big Lady Doctor who handles ADHD meds. Should be ready tomorrow. ✔

Thursday: Go to clinic to get meds and call to have them brought out. 20 minutes later I am given a bag with my 2 other scrips but not the Vyvanse. ❌ We flag down the pharm tech and politely ask her to go get that rolling, or find out what is going on. 20 minutes later, I get a call. Big Lady Doctor is IN VIRGINIA until the 28th of September. (1,200 miles) ❌ Other Big Doctor, Very Weird Super Old Forgetful Guy Who Is Incredibly Into Wolves, is only in the clinic 3 days a week. I ask if he is there today. Staff has to go see if his wizened carcass has been dragged home yet. It has not! ✔ They give his withered claw a jiggle and Big Doctor VWSOFGWIIIW rubber stamps the scrip. Hallelujah. ✔ They will call when it's ready. I am still in the parking lot. I wait another hour. They call. They can't fill it because the dose increased and they need a prior authorization from Medicaid. ❌ I tell them to send it. I actually CALL MEDICAID and somehow by the grace of god reach their pharmacy desk in one try. I tell them to watch for it and ask about turnaround. They say maybe today, maybe early tomorrow. Very nice but ultimately unhelpful. I drive home after 2 hours spent in the parking lot looking at some trees. It's the most green I have seen all week. I am still feeling terrible. 💀

Friday: Spend an HOUR calling my pharmacy every 15 minutes. They never answer. I escalate to every 5 minutes for half an hour. Then 6 back to back calls. No answer. ❌ Seventh call, they pick up. I ask about my meds. Medicaid has not returned my prior authorization. ❌ I try to call Medicaid with the EXACT same number. The phone tree is different. A mystery. I select the option for "patient". I am rerouted to the "provider" line. The rep seems shocked and flustered, has no idea what to do with me. ❌ I suggest that I might be transferred to or given the right direct phone number or extension for the pharmacy desk. They ask for my provider number. I remind them I am a patient and give them my social. They mumble something about transferring me to the patient line. I get some hold music, some ringing, more hold music, then the line disconnects. ❌ I call again. The same thing happens, sans ever reaching a rep. ❌ I call the pharmacy back and ask them to call when they hear back. They tell me they will try but they close at 2:30. ❌ It is 12:30. Without expecting them to do it, I tell them to call me if they haven't heard back from Medicaid by then as that will still leave me with a couple of hours to work on this from the Medicaid side. I am now feeling significantly worse than I did when this started on Tuesday. I also feel ill, possibly from stress. I just want a break, as I have been trying to solve this myself for two days. At least I am not in a parking lot. I lay down to rest a little. Bad idea. 💀 I sleep through 2:30 by accident. 💀 The pharmacy never called. ❌ It is only 4:30 at this point. Even though it's Friday and they're probably out, I try Medicaid again. I get the phone tree that works! I talk to a helpful rep. The pharmacy never sent the prior authorization. ❌❌❌ I now have to start over with the pharmacy on Monday. They will send the prior authorization, then I will have to call Medicaid to confirm they did, then keep bothering them both until it is returned, guaranteed at least 24 hours later. Then I will have to call the pharmacy, maybe repeatedly, to get them to put 30 pills in a plastic bottle and walk about 30 yards to get it to my car. ❌❌❌💀💀💀

...

I...I don't even know what to say. I would have my social worker handle this, but she's not good at this sort of thing. She doesn't make back to back calls unless I am physically in her presence and probably, at that point, crying. Otherwise she gives people time to do their jobs. But you can't, with these people. You can't. Because they won't. Are they overworked and understaffed? Yes, 100%. But some of this is just inexcusable.

I have a neurological disorder. It makes it very hard to do things. To self-motivate and initiate tasks. I have anxiety, which makes phone calls hard and fighting with pharmacy people and phone reps really hard. I take stress poorly because I am mentally ill. I am currently undermedicated for ADHD, and struggling both with executive function and depression from lack of dopamine, the chemical that lets you feel happy.

I still did all of this, and I did it for nothing. It has cost me quite a bit, reserves-wise. Maybe for a normal person it wouldn't be too bad, I don't know. I'm not normal. I am getting treatment for a reason, I am certified as disabled for a reason. That reason is that I am neuroatypical and seriously mentally ill. All of this is so much harder for me than it is for someone who is not.

I still did it. I should not have to do it!

I kicked down doors, rattled cages, remained polite, made over a dozen phone calls, waited in a goddamn parking lot for two hours, and at every stage I have had to walk people through taking the next step at THEIR JOB, and I should not have to do it.

And this week, from Tuesday to Friday, I did it for nothing.

This is what disabled people get for the crime of being different. I just don't know what to say.

If you're able to do a basic thing like call your doctor and get a refill within 2 days? Congrats. You are immensely fucking lucky.

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cora-vizsla · 3 years

Text

Cabur Chapter 3

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: Talk of strict parents. Swearing. Drinking alcohol. Talk of sex. Smut. Dominant/submissive undertones. Unprotected sex and talk of how reckless that is because you should always use protection. Just a tiny bit of fluff.

AN: I start classes on Monday so I wanted to get out as much as possible. It’s a long chapter but a lot also happens in it. If I missed any tags please let me know!

You helped Din carry everything inside and set him up in your room. He had tried to argue but with him having an ad’ika you felt like he needed the privacy. Once everything was sat down you saw large ears poke out from his bag and your smile was almost painful.

“Who is this?”

He looked down and sighed, nodding at the small creature. It reached for you and you picked it up and it cooed loudly. You giggled and both men tilted their head to the side as if asking you what was wrong with you. It reached its small hand out and touched your helmet.

“What is its name?”

“I’m not sure what his name is.”

“He was your bounty?”

“Yes. Now I’ve been tasked to find his people.”

“What happens if you can’t find them?”

“Then we are a clan of two.”

You held the small creature to your chest and looked down into his big black eyes. He was cute, that was for sure.

“Does he need to eat? What does he eat?”

“Frogs. Anything he can get ahold of.”

Paz barked out a laugh and Din tensed. You brought him over to the kitchen area and started pointing at things. He finally reached out for a can of fish, so you opened it for him. It smelled but he seemed thrilled with it.

“There is a stream close to here. I can go to the village and get you fresh fish. How does that sound?”

He cooed at you and you rest your forehead on his. He shut his eyes and cuddled into you. You ignored the two other Mandalorians in the house and focused on Dins ad’ika.

“He likes you.”

“I like him!”

You glanced up at the two and they were staring at you.

“Why don’t you two go out on the porch. You can take your helmets off. The villagers won’t come near when it’s getting close to dark. I’ll cook and watch the ad’ika.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Din. He is safe with me.”

“I know he is. He can just.. be a handful.”

“He’s my buddy, right sweetheart?”

His face lit up and he touched your helmet again. Din sighed and walked outside. Paz shut the door and looked at you.

“I got the impression you were going to talk to me.”

“I always talk to you, Paz.”

“You know what I mean.”

“We can talk later, okay? Go with your brother. I need space for a little while.”

He nodded and went outside, shutting the door behind him just a little too rough. You set the child on the counter and clapped.

“Alright, kiddo. What do we want for dinner?”

You slipped your gloves off and started to dig through the supplies. You sighed realizing you didn’t have as much as you wish you had. Suddenly a gentle touch skimmed across your hand and you looked down to see the child shutting his eyes and touching you. The image of soup came to mind and the flashes of Din ordering soup for him often. Another image of Din sipping soup under his helmet in a way that the child couldn’t see his face. The child wondered what his savior looked like. You gasped and he moved his hand, looking up at you.

“You use the force, don’t you little one.”

He smiled at you with his sharp little teeth.

“I can make soup, ad’ika. Tomorrow I’ll get you fresh fish to eat, yeah?”

He giggled and you got to working on a fresh batch of soup.

As soon as it was done, you dished out a bowl for the child. He giggled and it warmed your heart that he liked what you did for him. You dished out two more bowls and knocked at the door asking if it was safe to come out. You heard Paz say yes so you opened the door holding the two bowls. They took it from you and Din snorted.

“How did you know the kid likes soup.”

“He told me.”

Din whipped towards you.

“What?”

“You didn’t tell me he’s a force user.”

“What do you know of force users?”

“They have exceptional powers. He used his to tell me how you always order him soup. He wonders what you look like. If he’s your ad’ika why don’t you show your face?”

“I’m.. I’m not his biur. Not yet.”

“Tell him that, though it may break his heart. He thinks the world of you, Din. I’ll go back inside so you two can eat. Sorry it isn’t much. I’ll get more supplies tomorrow.”

When you turned to go back in, Paz grabbed your arm stopping you.

“Thank you.”

You nodded and walked inside, shutting the door and letting out a shaky breath. The child was looking at you and you walked over, seeing he needed more. You sipped at your own the way he had shown you Din did.

“We don’t take our helmets off unless it’s with our children or our spouse.”

He reached his hand out, so you let him touch your bare skin. He showed you Din again, and you could tell he questioned what you had just told him.

“He is tasked to find your people but if he can’t find them you won’t be going anywhere. He will always take care of you even if you aren’t sure what’s going on right now. He won’t ever leave you behind, okay?”

He smiled again and you pat the top of his head. You hoped that Din would figure it out. No child deserved to feel so alone.

---

You cleaned up until the child started to yawn. You scooped him up and walked around, softly singing to him. He fell asleep quickly and you smiled at how precious he looked. After a while you put him down on your bed so he would be in there when Din was ready to sleep. When you walked out both men were coming inside.

“He’s asleep. He ended up really sleepy, so I walked around with him until he fell asleep.”

“Thank you, vod’ika. Sometimes he has a hard time falling asleep.”

“It was nothing, Din. I’m happy to help.”

“Why don’t you tell Din about the little girl in town that needs a biur.”

Din looked at Paz then back at you. You sighed loudly and put your hand on your hip, glaring at the larger man.

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“She has no family?”

“No, she doesn’t. She really likes your vod’ika and hops from home to home to have somewhere to sleep. The village calls this one here cabur and I was yelled at by a small one for speaking ill of her. The little one in question is enamored with her cabur.”

“Vod’ika, why haven’t you taken her in?”

“We aren’t talking about this. None of us. Drop it. There wasn’t even a need to bring it up.”

Din tilt his head to the side, and you could have smacked Paz you were so mad.

“You won’t listen to me. Maybe you’ll listen to Din.”

“Paz, you are the most insufferable pain in the ass I have ever met!”

“And you’re the most bullheaded stubborn sheb I’ve ever met!”

“Well if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.”

Paz barked out a laugh and stepped forward. You tensed your body, hands balled into fists as you stared at him. Din looked between both of you and crossed his arms.

“What the hell is going on between you two?”

You both yelled nothing, but it was hard to miss the difference in your inflection. You were furious and wanted Din to know that there was absolutely nothing to talk about. Paz sounded defeated and frustrated that there was nothing going on.

“I might believe that if I didn’t walk up to you on his lap.”

You tossed your hands in the air and let them slap at your legs when they dropped.

“Of course, that’s when you would walk up. You didn’t see all the times I yelled at him or told him off. You weren’t even here to see me shoot him. But yes, you walk up when he pulls me against my will against him. Wonderful!”

“You shot him?”

“Against your will?!”

They both spoke at the same time and you were the one to laugh that time. You slipped your gloves back on and went to the door. As soon as you opened it Paz slapped his hand on it, effectively stopping you from leaving when it slammed shut.

“I will break this fucking door Paz and then you can tell the village why we need a new one. Let me out.”

“You aren’t running away! This is exactly what I was talking about before. Anytime things get hard or slightly uncomfortable you run away.”

“Do you think maybe I’m running from you?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Every time I’ve had to run it has been your fault. Perhaps you should be more worried about your actions that cause me to do this than me doing it.”

He grabbed your shoulder and spun you before pushing your back against the door. You glared up at him and saw Din start to walk forward but he stopped when you didn’t try to fight back.

“I thought we were past this, ad’ika. I thought we were past you trying to run from me when all I have done is try to help you since the moment I got here. Do you know how lucky you are to still be breathing? No one just shoots me and lives. No one yells at me and treats me poorly and gets to live. I’ve killed for far less.”

“Then just go ahead and do it! Go back to the Armorer and tell her that you found me dead.”

“I’d need your beskar, you stupid girl.”

“Over my dead fucking body are you taking this beskar off me.”

“That was just my point! Stars you are obstinate for no reason! If you put half of this fire into getting what you want instead of hiding, you’d have the entire galaxy!”

“I AM NOT FUCKING HIDING YOU GIANT FUCKING OAF!”

Din cackled at that and it broke the concentration between the two of you. Paz stepped back and let go of the door.

“If you aren’t hiding, then talk. Go ahead and run out the door though. I know you’re going to. It’s what you do. You’re no verd. Warriors don’t run from their problems.”

Your entire body was shaking you were so angry. You did want to bolt. You wanted to head out the door and find an entirely new planet to be on away from everyone you knew, including Din. He was supposed to come to you to help you deal with Paz, not question you.

You stomped over to the counter where you kept your alcohol. You didn’t drink often but you had it just in case, more so for wounds than anything else. It was strong and you liked being on your toes. However, this situation was entirely different. You yanked your helmet off and slammed it on the counter, your back towards the two men.

“What are you doing?”

Paz sounded unsure and you could feel Din shifting his weight like he did when he was uncomfortable. You grabbed the bottle and took a huge swig, wincing when it burned your throat. You leaned forward, both hands on the counter and sighed.

“If I’m going to deal with this I’m going to need to be at least buzzed. You’re much to vexing to deal with sober and since your brother has decided to do the absolute opposite of what I was hoping he would do, this is how I’m going to deal.”

You took another swig and pulled your helmet back on, not caring that your hair was hanging below your helmet for once. You turned around and motioned for the living space. It was going to be a long night.

---

Paz filled Din in on everything that had happened in the last year. You chimed in to correct or add to what he was saying. Din listened intently glancing at you when it came up you had been protecting everyone.

“So, you have been living by the creed the entire time.”

“Yes. No one has seen my face. The village doesn’t even know my name.”

“Vod’ika, why are you being so hard on yourself then. Is it your biur?”

You shrugged.

“I think they meant well. I do. It’s just that it.. You know the stipulation when they took me in.”

“I do.”

“What?”

You cursed yourself. Drinking always made you chatty and even though you knew that was what you needed to do, part of you forgot that Paz would be finding things out you had hidden from him before.

“I told you before that the creed saved me.”

“Right, and I said that you didn’t take the creed until years later.”

“You aren’t wrong. The problem is I had to promise to take the creed long before that. Mandalorians are given the choice to take the vow and when they want to. For my biur to take me in, I had to promise that I would train so I was worthy to wear the beskar. Without this metal, without this helmet, I would be dead on the street.”

“So those were your choices? Die or become one of us? Who let this happen? Does the Armorer know about this?”

The more questions Paz asked the angrier he became. It made you tense but it almost felt nice that he knew why you felt the way you did.

“She does. That’s why I was asked to look out for her. They never did anything that could warrant them being sent away, but it was a fine line. There are extremists everywhere in every group, but the Armorer wanted this one to be safe.”

“She wanted me to have a chance. I was forced to take this creed, but it doesn’t change how important it is to me. I swore to be different than them. It’s why I’m so strong in my beliefs, Paz. I need to do things this way, so I don’t end up like them.”

“Then why be so upset about the helmet? Your biur would have disowned you but if you had just gone to the Armorer she would have understood. The rest of us would have understood.”

“I broke the creed. I’ve broken what it means to me. Just because my beliefs on this are different than yours doesn’t make them invalid. I can’t rely on everyone just forgiving the broken creed. I won’t.”

“And you won’t marry outside of love because you don’t want to be like them too?”

You nodded and pulled your legs up, so you were more or less curled up on the couch. Din reached over and put his hand on your knee. He had always been the one to console you even though it wasn’t very conventional. That was how you learned to fight. You channeled all your pain and frustration into fighting.

“Go get some sleep, Din. I have a feeling the kid will be up soon.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind giving up your room?”

“Yes. I have no problem sleeping on the couch.”

He stood and stretched, groaning at the movements.

“Getting old, Din.”

“Yeah, shut up.”

You laughed and said goodnight as he walked back into the room. Before you could stand up to get a blanket, Paz was handing one to you. You thanked him quietly and started pulling your beskar off, stacking it neatly by the couch. You laid down on your side once you were done and Paz sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch so he was close to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of that?”

“It’s not something I like talking about.”

“It doesn’t change that you run from everything.”

“I know it doesn’t. I at least have a reason for it.”

He tilted his head back, so it was resting on your thigh. You felt strange but the feeling wasn’t horrible. His breathing changed a few times like he was going to talk but decided not to.

“Were you actually unwilling?”

“What?”

“When I pulled you on me. Were you really unwilling? I don’t want to upset you.”

“I.. no. It wasn’t unwilling. I would have said something. I was just mad and embarrassed that of all times that was when Din showed up.

He fell silent again and with how steady his breathing was, you almost thought he fell asleep.

“Have you been like that before with someone?”

“Sat on someone’s lap?”

He turned his head to face you and you barked out a laugh.

“Oh! Yes. Yes, I’ve had sex before, if that’s what you’re asking. The creed says nothing about sex.”

“And they never saw your face?”

“You’re the only one who has seen my face since I’ve taken the creed.”

“So, you just had sex with your helmet on?”

You laughed and shrugged.

“It’s the only part of the beskar that has to stay on. You know that. You’re saying you’ve never had sex?”

“Of course, I’ve had sex! What kind of question is that?”

“Oh, so you can question me, but I can’t question you?”

He huffed and rolled his head back, so he was facing forward.

“I guess that’s fair. You know, you’re being pretty bold considering I’m the one who has been drinking.”

“Bold? No. Being bold would be telling you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You chuckled expecting him to join in with you but instead he just turned to look at you fully.

“I know we fight something fierce. I know that I’m not the most patient person in the galaxy. I do respect you. I think even more than I did before and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Thank you, Paz.”

“You’re nothing like your biur. I understand not wanting to be like them. You just can’t not live because you’re afraid you may end up like them.”

“I’m scared to live. I’m scared to let anyone close. Not that I’ll admit it again once I’m sober.”

He rumbled out a laugh and you smiled at the sound.

“I hope you can begin to trust me.”

“I do trust you Paz. I just know it’s not actually me that you want. You just want the tribe back.”

“You’re so sure of that?”

“Of course. What use would you have for me? You need a woman that will stay home and give you warriors. Someone to come home to. Marrying me out of obligation would do nothing but hinder you. You’re already a warrior. No use for ‘nother.”

“Do I look like the type of man that would come home anywhere? This is the longest I’ve stayed anywhere.”

“I ‘dunno Paz. Look pretty domestic to me.”

He laughed and pulled the blanket up on you, hearing how tired you are by the sound of your voice.

“Get some sleep, cabur’ika.”

“Will you leave with Din?”

“What? Of course not. Din has his own journey. Mine is right here.”

You laughed and rolled away from him. You were so tired that you didn’t even fight him when he turned shut the light off and slipped your helmet off your head. You mumbled out a thank you and giggled when you heard him stumble into his room.

“G’night Paz.”

“Goodnight, cabur.”

---

You stood on the porch watching the sunrise the next morning. You could still hear Paz snoring and as annoying as it was, you were getting used to the sound. When you heard the door open, Din walked out holding the small child.

“Good morning”

“Morning.”

“He wake you up early?”

He grumbled and handed the kid to you. You smiled and scratched the top of his head, smiling when he cooed at you.

“How long are you staying?”

“Depends on if you and Paz are going to kill each other.”

You sighed and sat down, leaning against the wall. Din joined you, keeping one knee bent so he could rest his arm on it.

“I’m not going to kill him.”

“Well then you’re going to need to have sex with him. One or the other.”

You laughed and smacked his arm.

“Din!”

“I’m serious. The two of you need to get some energy out and it’s either going to be fucking or killing. I’ve known both of you for a long time. Never seen either of you at anyone’s throat like this.”

“He wants me to marry him.”

“I know you have your own ideas for marriage, but in our tribe, you know it’s about convenience and strength. Who can you be compatible with to make sure the tribe lives on?”

“I hear what you’re saying.”

“You’re letting your pride keep you from the tribe. We need you. Paz needs you. The Armorer isn’t on Navarro anymore. I’m not sure where she is or where they all moved to but there aren’t many people left. Having one more person would be a huge deal.”

“So, I just enter into the marriage like a negotiation?”

He shrugged.

“Why not? Aren’t most marriages like that? Not that I’m well versed in that but it’s all a negotiation. Decide what you both can and can’t live with and meet in the middle. As much as he pushes my buttons, he isn’t a bad man.”

You sighed and nodded.

“I know he isn’t. I just don’t want him to regret it later.”

“That sounds like his decision to make. Not yours.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

You tilt your head and laughed, picking up on his playful mood.

“Thank you, Din.”

“You’re welcome, vod’ika. You two will figure it out. Neither of you have anywhere else to be. May as well be together instead of you both being alone.”

“What about you?”

“I have the kid.”

“And what happens if you find his family?”

“Then I’ll be showing up on your doorsteps. Don’t worry about me. I’m used to doing things on my own as a bounty hunter.”

“That mean you’re leaving soon?”

“I need to. I have a lot to do to find the Jedi. It seems like every time I find something out, I need to do five different highly dangerous things to find out something else.”

You laughed and rest your head on his shoulder. He squeezed your leg playfully before sighing at the child.

“You ready to go, kid?”

He looked up at you and touched your hand. You slipped the glove off, letting him connect with you again. He showed you his time with you and you felt how comfortable and safe he felt. You smiled and pressed your forehead to his.

“You will always be welcome here, ad’ika. Take care of Din for me, yeah? He won’t ever admit it, but he needs you just as much as you need him.”

Din sighed next to you but didn’t correct your statement. You handed the child over to Din and stood when he did.

“Don’t you want to say goodbye to Paz?”

“I already told him I’d be gone by the time he woke up. Besides, I’ll see you two again. You know how to get ahold of me.”

“I do.”

“Thank you for letting us stay here.”

“Always, Din. I mean that. If you ever need anything just call. The blue giant and I will be there.”

He put his forehead to yours again and you shut your eyes, not wanting to cry. As much as you knew he needed to go, you were going to miss him terribly.

“This is the way.”

He stepped away and slung his bag over his back, walking into the woods and out of sight. You looked back towards the cabin and sighed, knowing there was a huge talk that needed to happen between you and Paz. You hoped desperately that both of you could keep calm enough to come to an understanding.

---

Paz finally came out of his room and you motioned for him to sit next to you. He instead sat in front of you by the wall and you sighed.

“You’re so stubborn.”

“We know this. Din leave?”

“Yeah. He left this morning. He said you already knew he was leaving.”

“I did. We don’t really do the goodbye thing.”

“I let him know that if he needed help from us to just comm me.”

He snorted and crossed his arms.

“Volunteering me now?”

“Well you seem to be sticking by my side so yeah.”

“Where else would I go? Not like I have a home to go to.”

You crossed your arms and tensed up.

“Is that how you feel? We just built you an entire room, Paz. You don’t see this as your home?”

“It’s not sustainable. We’re safe for now but soon enough they will come looking for us. There are a lot of people who want to wipe out the Mandalorians.”

“Why are you being so hostile today?”

“I’m not being hostile.”

He basically snapped at you, so you narrowed your eyes. When you tilt your head to the side he scoffed and looked away.

“Could have fooled me.”

You got up to head to the kitchen and heard him stand, following you.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

You turned and he was directly in front of you. You jumped slightly and he wrapped his hands around your biceps. You already had your armor on, but he easily wrapped his large hands around you.

“You keep running.”

“Paz, I’m going to cook food. Aren’t you hungry?”

“What?”

You laughed and shook your head slightly.

“I was going to go into town today to get fish for Din’s ad’ika but since they’re gone, I wanted to make something to eat and figure out what we need. I still have some of the soup or I can make something new.”

“I.. you don’t need to cook anything new. The soup was good.”

You started heating the food up while he stood leaning against the wall. He had his arms crossed as he was watching you.

“I know that when you came around, we were already pretty secluded, but our warriors were never meant to fight alone. We used to have vast armies, and everyone had their role. When the purge happened is when we had to learn to fight on our own. We held onto the tribe mentality as much as possible, but I always hated how we taught the young they were on their own.”

You listened to him, leaning back on the counter. As much as you normally would say something sarcastic, hearing Paz speak about the culture was always something you enjoyed. It also helped that he wasn’t talking down to you.

“When I could be around to teach the children, I made sure that they knew we were important to each other. I think being out on my own made me forget that for a long time. Being utterly alone makes you think of things differently, even if that means it isn’t always right.”

“I can agree with that. When you’re the only person you need to look out for it becomes a little easier. I don’t.. I don’t usually care so much about myself. What has kept me going is the obligation to the village here and making sure I could send back to the tribe whenever possible.”

You dished out the now warm soup and moved to the living area, sitting down on the couch. Paz sat down on the chair near the kitchen and you heard his helmet set down on the counter. You took your own off and sat it next to you. You were surprised at how comfortable it was being in the house with him, even if you couldn’t really look at him.

“When I first came here, I refused any comforts. I slept on the ground in a side alley in the village. It made the village very upset to know I wasn’t warm and safe. They didn’t understand that it doesn’t really matter where we sleep; we’re just happy to be actually sleeping.”

Paz chuckled and you smiled.

“They offered me all the best houses there, but it didn’t feel right taking from them. They finally insisted I live here and furnished the entire thing. I didn’t really have any credits to offer them, but I couldn’t just take without payment. That was how we decided on our agreement. I could help them, and they could help me. It makes them feel good when I’m taken care of.”

“And you feel better know that you’re keeping them safe.”

You hummed in agreement and drank some of the soup, smiling at the memory of the small child enjoying it so much.

“Running may have been what brought me here, but it isn’t what kept me in one place. I am comfortable but I just wanted to feel like I was taking care of someone like I would have been taking care of the tribe.”

“You have a very kind heart, cabur. I understand fearing being like your biur but you are nothing like them.”

“Thank you. It makes me feel better hearing that. I know that they were extreme and stricter than most. I just want to live by the creed without losing who I am at the core.”

“You sound more at peace today.”

“I guess so. Din and I chatted before he left. Plus talking to both of you last night helped too. I’ve been… stubborn.”

You heard him slip his helmet on, so you did the same. He sat down next to you on the couch, being physically close to you for once. You turned so you had your legs crossed and could face him fully. He made the couch look so little but there was more than enough room for you to sit any way you wanted.

“I did always tell myself that I would only marry for love. However, your point that I don’t let anyone close to me was valid. I can’t love someone if I don’t let myself near anyone.”

“Did Din tell you that, so you finally believed it?”

“No. I knew when you said it that you were right. I’m not very good at admitting that.”

“Neither am I.”

You laughed and nodded.

“There aren’t many of us left and those that are happen to be scattered across the galaxy. I am lucky to still have two tribesmen close to me.”

“We are lucky to have that. You aren’t the only one.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. I’ve been horrible towards you for saving my life and it was wrong of me. I don’t know if I would have done the same thing for you then, but I would now. I’m sure you know that I’m not in love with you, but I do have tremendous respect for you. I know there are things we would need to talk and work out, but if you truly want me to be your riduur, I will accept. This is bigger than just the two of us. Our tribe needs both of us”

He turned and put his hand on your knee. His hand felt warm even with all the armor and you tentatively put your hand on top of his. He squeezed your fingers in response.

“What do you need from me?”

“I don’t expect us to change. I don’t want us to feel like we need to act differently.”

“What of ad’ike? Do you still want children?”

“Yes, eventually. There are plenty of children who need biur. When we are both ready and feel like it’s time, we can discuss it.”

You expect him to bring up the small girl in the village, but he didn’t.

“I also want you to promise me that you will not regret this. If you.. meet someone else.. and want to promise yourself to them, then you need to do it. I will not come in the way of your happiness. Not any more than I already have.”

“You would absolve it for me to be with someone else?”

“Yes.”

“You know that means you likely would never find another within the tribe.”

“I know, Paz. You did save my life and now you want to marry me to so I can go back to our family when the time comes. I at least owe you a way out.”

He reached over and pulled you, so you were sitting sideways on his lap. One arm wrapped around your waist and the other rested on your leg.

“I know I’ve made mistakes and I’ve let you down. I’ve hurt you more than any enemy could and for that I am sorry. I know you think in your head that I am only doing this because of the tribe but that isn’t true. I want us to start over. I will do whatever it takes. We can figure all this out together. We both know what is at stake and I’ve let you down before, but I am so thankful for this chance. You said you don’t want us to change, but cyare you have already changed me so much.”

You felt your chest tighten at his admission. You desperately wanted to say something, but you were at an absolute loss of words.

“You deserve so much better than what you’ve gone through in your life. You deserve so much better than me.”

“No. No you’re a good man. I don’t know that I can physically not give you shit every day but don’t think for a second that I think less of you.”

He chuckled and held you tighter.

“I wish you could see yourself for the warrior you are. Your strength is so much more than could be put in words. I’m glad you opened up to me last night. I know it hurts to do that.”

“It does.”

“I need to see all of it though. Just like you need to see every side of me. Guess it’s a good thing you’ve already seen me being a total asshole.”

You laughed and felt some of the tension fall from your shoulders.

“I just feel you’re settling because you feel guilty about my broken creed.”

“It’s much more than that to me now. I would be the luckiest Mandalorian in the galaxy to have a riduur as strong and resilient as you. Someone to raise warriors with together. Between your smarts and my brute strength, they would be unstoppable.”

He placed his hand on the side of your helmet and turned your face towards his.

“Whenever you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together.”

---

Your trip into town was fairly uneventful. You were able to tell Paz more about the village and the history you had learned from the elders. He listened intently which made you incredibly happy.

Something had shifted between the two of you. His entire attention was on you and his movements synced with yours. You tried to remember if he had always gently touched your back when you stopped to look at something. Did he always turn towards you so fully when you spoke?

You couldn’t figure out if he was acting different or if it was you. It was entirely possible that you were finally letting that wall down around him. You noticed things that would keep you alive but social interactions weren’t something you looked at closely.

It wasn’t that you disliked what he was doing. It was just different.

“The market should be opened by now. There isn’t usually a lot left so I don’t feel as bad taking what no one else wanted.”

“They get more supplies tomorrow?”

You nodded and felt your face heating up. He was overwhelming but you absolutely decided you liked this side of Paz. The two of you continued through the village and made it to the market. You worker smiled at both of you and you didn’t miss the way she looked at Paz’s hand resting on your lower back. She gave you a huge smile and wished you both a good day.

“They’re all so friendly here.”

“Yeah, they are. It’s nice to not hide who we are. They like the fact that we’re Mandalorians.”

“Nothing like Navarro.”

“Which is why I like it here.”

You walked back to the cabin, both carrying the food. You put things away and started a meal, having finished off the soup earlier that day. Paz sat in the kitchen chair watching you cook and hum to yourself.

“Is there something you want to talk about? I don’t think you’ve looked at me this much in my entire life.”

“I think you need to bring Lahta here.”

“Paz.. I don’t want this life for her.”

“It would be her choice. Your circumstances were different. That isn’t the norm. We bring foundlings home and give them a chance regardless of what they choose.”

“I’ve never seen someone not take it.”

“I don’t know many that haven’t. It is still a choice.”

“Then they’re cast aside if they don’t want to?”

“No. They live with us as part of the tribe. You don’t remember people being around with no helmets on?”

“My biur kept me away from most. Can we.. can we talk about this later? I’m a bit overwhelmed if I’m being honest. We’ve talked about a lot today.”

He sighed but nodded.

“Okay. We will talk again though.”

You nodded and finished cooking. You did want to discuss bring the girl home. You had thought about her often and it kicked up once you found out she had no family. It was just too much to process. You sat the plate down in front of him.

“When.. when do you want to.. share vows?”

You winced at how meek you sounded.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“How do I know I’m ready.”

“I’m not sure. You will though. We will both know.”

You grabbed your food and walked into the living area again. Slipping your helmet off, you started eating enjoying eating a hot meal. You thought about how soon you could actually eat with Paz and it did warm your heart.

“You looked beautiful when you were dying.”

You choked on your drink and started coughing.

“What!?”

“No.. I.. fuck.. When I saw your face. You were beautiful.”

“Paz, there were a thousand different ways you could have said that better.”

You burst into laughter and you heard him grumble.

“I mean it. I didn’t mean to put my foot in my mouth, but I did mean it when I said you’re beautiful.”

“I do have to say that when I thought of my future husband calling me beautiful, it didn’t sound like that.”

“Maker kill me now.”

“No. Not now.”

“When then?”

“I told you. Once you go lay down by the wood line. I’m not dragging your ass.”

You burst out laughing when you heard him slam his helmet on, so you did the same. He stalked over to you, looming over you still sitting. You desperately tried to stop laughing but you failed miserably.

“You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“I think I’m fucking hilarious, actually.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm? Did you not hear me? Is your hearing going, old ma-“

You were cut off when he abruptly grabbed you by your chest armor. He lifted you up like you were absolutely nothing and spun so he was pressing your back against the wall. He moved himself forward, pressing his body against yours. You worked hard to control your breathing, but he must have noticed. The dark chuckle that came from deep in his chest sent a shiver down your spine.

“Not so mouthy now, huh?”

You knew damn well if you spoke at that moment your voice would have cracked, so you shook your head instead.

“That’s what I thought, little one. You’re such a brat sometimes, you know.”

“I may have noticed.”

He chuckled again and pushed one of his legs between yours, holding you up more efficiently. You stifled a small gasp but again he chuckled at your reactions.

“I think you like getting a rise out of me, cyare.”

“Perhaps you’re just easily provoked.”

He pressed his leg forward more and you gasped. Your hands shot to his shoulders and you gripped the straps to his armor. He moved his hands to your hips and gripped them hard.

“I’ve thought about this, you know. I’ve wondered what little noises you would let slip through your lips when I put my hands on you. I’ve thought about how much you would like me dominating you. Tell me, cabur’ika, is this the reaction you were hoping for?”

“Stars you and cocky.”

“Tell me to stop then.”

“Why would I do that?”

He growled out a laugh and lifted you more so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He immediately turned and head to his room, kicking the door shut behind you.

“Holy shit its dark in here.”

You hadn’t even thought of putting a window in, more concerned with having a space for him. He pinned you back against the wall, using his body to keep you up when his hands moved up and took his helmet off. You inhaled sharply through your nose but there was absolutely no seeing anything even as your eyes adjusted to the dark.

“It has its uses.”

“I can’t see anything.”

“Good. Then we aren’t breaking the rules.”

“Pretty fine line.”

He chuckled and moved his hands to your helmet. You tensed slightly but nodded, helping him remove it.

“Your bucket is so light.”

“Well in comparison to yours all my armor is light I’m sure.”

He set your helmet down carefully next to his on the dresser and placed his hands gently on each side of your face. Your breath was shaky as you moved your hands up to do the same to him. You smiled when you felt his soft skin and the facial hair covering the lower half of his face. You traced your thumb across his bottom lip and felt the sigh slip through.

“So, this is why you asked if I had sex with my helmet on. You figured out a loophole.”

“Surprised someone as smart as you didn’t think of it.”

“Maybe I just don’t like cheating the system.”

Your voice was playful, and you felt a smile spread across his face.

“Hmm, but if we didn’t cheat the system how would I ever be able to do this?”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You gasped against his lips at the sensation. You had thought of kissing before, but you never expected it to feel so intimate. You had let others touch your body, that didn’t seem like a big deal to you. His lips pressed against you was hands down the most intimate feeling you had ever experienced.

You were afraid that you would feel inexperienced and naïve, but the way Paz kissed you was everything. He slowly showed you what to do with your mouth in a way that made you hungry. This was nothing like how you learned how to fight; violent and unforgiving. You learned how to press your lips to his in a way that clouded every other sense. The feeling of him against you quickly made you breathless. When he broke away, he pressed his forehead to you and rubbed his nose against yours.

“You have far too many clothes on, mesh’la.”

“I guess you should fix that problem then.”

He chuckled and kissed you quickly before starting to work on your armor. It was shocking to you just how easily he was able to hold you up. He made quick work of your armor and you laughed at the fact that he seemed more proficient than even you were.

“I may have studied your armor so I would know just how to get it off you.”

“How often have you thought of doing this?”

“I’m not sure they make numbers that large.”

You bit your bottom lip and giggled as he unhooked the rest. You went to start on his but he stopped you.

“Please, cyare, let me do this. Let me take care of you.”

You hesitated before letting out a breathy response of okay. He moved to pull your gloves off and then your shirt. Once your skin was bare, he pulled his own gloves off and ran his hands up your sides with a groan.

“You’re so soft. Stars how are you so soft?”

He leaned forward and started peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders while his hands ran roughly up and down your sides. Eventually he wrapped one arm around you and pulled away from the wall, quickly moving to the bed where he set you down on your back. He pulled your pants off you leaving you completely bare below him. You were able to see his outline but with how dark it was it was absolutely impossible to see details beyond that.

“Why is it that I’m the only one with nothing on?”

“Is someone impatient?”

“Yes.”

He laughed and made quick work of his armor. You watched him as you moved further up the bed, getting comfortable. He unceremoniously removed his clothes and tossed them on the floor near his feet. Your heart started to race when he crawled up the bed and grabbed your hips. The surprised gasp that fell from your lips was embarrassing when he yanked you down, so you were directly below him.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go right now.”

“That would make me an awful liar.”

He kissed you again as you ran your fingertips across his skin. His chest was littered with small scars and bumps from years of fighting. It was a start contrast from the way that he gently kissed you. The man had destroyed and killed for most of his life yet his hands were skilled in the way that they gently worked your flesh in them.

He trailed his kisses down your neck where he suckled the skin, absolutely leaving marks in his wake. You breathlessly moaned at the sensation and he groaned in response.

“Such beautiful noises for me, cyare. Stars this is better than any dream I possibly could have made up.”

He worked his way down, worshiping every inch of your skin that he could get to. When he pulled your pebbled nipple into his mouth you arched your body into his. He gripped your hips roughly and held you in place. Your hands shot to his head where you laced your fingers through his hair. He groaned against your sensitive skin when you gently tugged at his roots.

“Tell me what you want, mesh’la.”

“Oh stars. You. I want you.”

“Hmm, that isn’t very descriptive.”

You huffed in frustration and he chuckled. He slipped off of you, so he was laying at your side. You wined at the loss of contact but quickly silenced yourself when he kissed you deeply. He continued to kiss you as he ran his hand down your body until he was able to slip a single finger between your already soaked folds.

“Maker, cyare, you’re already so wet for me.”

You moaned against his lips and he started working your sensitive clip. He kept kissing you as he worked your body better than you possibly imagined it could be done. When he slid his hand down further and started to slip a single digit in you gasped at the way it stretched you.

“Maker, Paz.”

“Fuck you’re tight.”

He grabbed your hand closest to him and guided it down to his throbbing cock. You gasped again when you felt just how large he was.

“Uhm, how.. how is that even going to fit in me?��

He laughed and continued to push his finger in and out of you. When he pushed a second in you arched your back and moaned loudly.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. Oh stars.”

He continued working you and you wrapped your hand around his shaft. He groaned when you did and picked up the pace that he was using on you slightly. He continued kissing and sucking at your neck as you felt your climax inching towards you. When he started rubbing his thumb against your clit you cried out soon after, hit hard by your orgasm.

“Fuck I need you, cyare. T-tell me to stop.”

“No. Please don’t stop Paz.”

“Come on, mesh’la. Tell me what you want. I need to know. I need to hear it from your pretty mouth. I want to hear you beg for me.”

You whimpered when he pulled his fingers from you, feeling suddenly empty. When he kissed you, you pushed him and climbed over, straddling his waist. When you placed your hands on his chest and sat up, he groaned and gripped your hips hard.

“Why is it me that has to beg? Maybe I want the great Paz Vizla begging for me.”

“Oh, is that what you want? You want me to beg you to fuck me? Beg you to sink that tight pussy down on my cock?”

“Yeah. I do.”

He hummed and pushed you down, making you grind along him. You gasped and grabbed his wrists. He chuckled and used your surprise to flip you both back over. You gasped again when your back hit the bed and he pressed his weight on you. He kissed you deeply, so you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him further forward.

“Such a needy woman. Just tell me what you want, and you’ll have it. I’ll always do whatever I can to give you everything.”

You wanted to fight against him. You wanted to prolong the game and not give in. You didn’t want to submit; not yet. Something about the way his hands ran over your body and how he pressed into you dissolved any resolve you had to keep your submission at bay.

“I want you, Paz. Please. Show me how much you want me. Let me give you ever piece of me.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He kissed you again, this time softer and passionately. One hand held the side of your face while the other reached between you. You felt him press against you as he continued to kiss you.

“Relax, mesh’la. It’s just me. You know me. You know I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

You moaned against him and he gently pushed into you. The stretch was slightly painful at first, so you appreciated the care he was taking. He pushed the entire way in, filling you in a way you never knew possible.

“Haar'chak, you are so tight.”

He braced himself on his forearms that he placed by your head. When he stared moving inside of you, there was no way you were stopping the moans from falling from your lips. Your entire thoughts were consumed with him and everything he was making you feel. You wanted to move your hips to meet his thrusts, but he was just too much. You were too full, and his body had your legs spread too far.

“Stars how I’ve dreamt of this. I’ve dreamt of you split open on my cock moaning for me.”

You cried out at a harder thrust when he hit just the right spot inside of you. Paz groaned and hooked one of your legs up higher. You felt tears start to well in your eyes at just how overwhelmed your body was. He had achieved the impossible by going further inside of you.

“Come on, cyare. Cum for me. Let me see what it feels like.”

He tilted back so he was on his knees, lifting your lower back up so he could continue to pound into you. He moved his thumb to your clit and worked it until you screamed out. When you clamped down on his he growled and moved quicker. You let your head fall back onto the bed as he mercilessly pounded into you.

“Where?”

“Inside. Fuck- implant. I have the implant.”

With three more strong thrusts he came hard inside of you. He stayed deeply seated inside of you until you felt him start to soften and he slipped out. You whimpered at the feeling and he chuckled as he flopped on the bed next to you.

“Fuck, Paz.”

“Already did.”

You laughed out trying to catch your breath.

“I guess now would be a weird time to ask if you have any diseases, right?”

You turned to where you knew he was and laughed again.

“Yeah that talk is usually before sex. But no. I have no diseases. We honestly should have had this entire talk long before now.”

“Oh well. Not a lesson I plan on needing.”

“Oh?”

“Nope.”

“Not planning on fucking anyone else within an inch of their life?”

He barked out a laugh and pulled you, so you were resting on him. You shivered when your sweaty skin started to cool off, so he yanked a blanket over both of you.

“No. You’re going to be my wife, mesh’la. I’m all in with you. Even if you didn’t have the exact body made to fit against mine.”

“Hmm. You sure know how to lay it on thick, Vizla.”

“Oh, I’m just starting. For now though, sleep would be nice.”

You nestled into his chest and sighed. For the first time in a long time your body felt relaxed and comfortable. Before long the sound of his snores filled the room and you smiled against his skin as sleep took you too.

---

Translations Haar'chak: damn it cayre: belovid ad’ika: little one, child vod’ika: little brother/sister cabur: protector/guardian

#paz vizsla #paz x female!reader #paz vizla x reader #paz x reader #the mandalorian #fanfic

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ladynestaarcheron · 3 years

Text

Fears All the Way Down - Chapter Five

ao3 - masterpost

hello, my dears. here's chapter five, without too much fanfare. enjoy<3

---

The morning of her first self-defense lesson with Cassian, Nesta awakes to a cool breeze blowing in the scent of roses from her open window.

"Good morning," Nesta says, smiling slightly. "I guess you liked my gift."

She had finished it yesterday, in the jewelry-making session. It had taken her the better part of the day. A sort of cover for the cracked, broken part of the walls the Illyrians had destroyed. Golden and gleaming and prettier than the beige paint around it, but complementing all the same.

And now the House, apparently, is showing her affection for it: a new rose bush outside of her room, fat flowers dangling down over the top of her window. A very pretty frame for her already spectacular view of the city.

The House gives her different clothes today, too. A fitted shirt, and a knee-length loose skirt, with leggings underneath. As close to pants as she'll wear. By Cassian's slight approving nod when she meets him after breakfast, he approves.

"We'll be starting on the roof," he says, in lieu of a greeting.

She nods once. She remembers hearing him, back in that awful first week here-goodness, but it's not yet been a full month since then, and it feels so long ago-hearing him up there, throwing knives around or whatever it was he did. She guesses she'll soon find out.

The crispness of the morning mountain air hits her in full force, but Cassian doesn't act like it fazes him at all. In fact, judging by the way his wings spread slightly wider, he likes it.

"All right," he says. "Let's begin."

The hour ticks by, slowing and speeding up depending on moments when Cassian touches her. There's none of his usual chatter or teasing; he's serious and unsmiling. The training ring is probably sacred to him.

Serious and unsmiling, but not discouraging. He's generous with his praise when she achieves his simple tasks-too generous, she thinks, but perhaps he has some ulterior motive.

Or perhaps, a small voice inside her head says, he's relieved you'll finally know how to defend yourself, and he means it.

It's not as daunting as it had seemed at first, this self defense. He's good for their agreement; this isn't training. He takes all her weaknesses and her proposed attacker's strengths into consideration and shows her how to maneuver past it all. How to cause an assailant-even one as big and strong as he is-to let her go when they grab her arms tightly in front, how to move her legs when she's caught in a chokehold, and how to break free when someone grabs her from behind.

"I guess no one will be able to pull onto your hair, though," he muses, more to himself than to her. "Keep your arms at your sides; you don't want them to get in the way of this one," he adds, mercifully changing the subject too quickly before he can notice her expression.

No one can pull on her hair now, that's the whole point. But they had, they had, rough enough that strands came out and she had no way to escape. What if she had known these tricks then? Would she have had a prayer? Would she still be human? Elain? And what of Father, would he still be alive? Or would it not have mattered; only delayed her certain torture and death, because she had been human, and they had been Fae, and in the end, that was all-

"Arms like this, Nesta," Cassian says, switching from mock-assailant to instructor as he gently tucks her arms against her sides, and drawing her out of her head to the sound of his voice and the feel of his hands on hers, his body behind her. His wings block out the wind, and she can feel the warmth radiating from him to her core. "Because you don't want them to get in the way of when you break out...and why else?"

"So I don't use them to hurt myself," she says, repeating his words from earlier.

"Right...good. Let's do this one again. One last time."

She takes a deep breath.

"Ready?"

"Yes." She doesn't hesitate. She doesn't need to. He doesn't let her feel trapped.

"All right, I'm grabbing you now-good!"

For she is ready for him, this time. He wraps his arms around her from behind, his arms trapping hers at her elbows, and she instantly draws them in like he instructed. Without waiting for his prompting, she gathers her strength and throws her head upwards and backwards, like he had shown her, and then leaps away as his arms fly open.

"Good, Nesta!" he says, eyes shining as she turns around. He isn't hurt; he keeps moving away for this one so she doesn't do any real damage. "You would've hit his neck there...normally, I'd say go for the chin, but neck's really good...at that speed, with that force, really good..." He grins broadly at her, his first smile of the morning, and after an hour of being in instructor-Cassian's presence, she blinks at the easy switch.

"You did really well," he says, after handing her a glass of water. "Did you...how was it for you?"

She shrugs slightly. "All right." It wasn't fun. But it was hardly suffering. And the movements, following Cassian's instructions...a good way to keep herself focused.

"Would you...do you want to continue?" His voice is casual, but from the careful way he does not meet her eyes, she can tell he is tense.

"Yes," she says, trying to keep her voice casual too.

He brightens, and something inside her dims automatically. His...elation, relief, whatever this spark is, at seeing her agree to do this...it feels, somehow, as though she is doing something wrong. She is cheating or lying. She does not deserve this, is not worthy of his joy. Of him.

"It's not healthy to do workouts every day," he says, "especially...when you're in recovery."

When you're weak, he means. When one is ill and emaciated-even if she is getting better, and trying, it's not going to be enough-never enough-

"So I think...Mondays and Tuesdays...and Thursdays and Fridays? If you'd like to do this long term, I mean."

Nesta blinks. "How long-term?"

He shrugs. "Till you want to stop, I guess."

She purses her lips slightly. "Don't you have...I mean, will you be able to do this four times a week, indefinitely? Don't you have..." An occupation, she wants to say. Running the strongest military on their island, maybe one of the strongest in the world. "You don't have the time," she decides on instead.

He does it again. His deep hazel eyes latch onto hers and don't let her go. She doesn't have a prayer of looking away until he lets her. There's not enough self-defense lessons in the world for her to be strong enough to fight this off.

"I always have time for you, Nesta."

She shivers, and it doesn't have anything to do with the crisp wind under the weak October sun.

He moves his head, and lets her go.

"So tomorrow, then," he says.

"Tomorrow," she echoes. She doesn't stay to watch him fly off.

---

Nesta had done incredibly well. Spectacularly. And she had looked even better.

He had stayed up half the night before, wondering if she was going to show up in pants. She hadn't, but the skirt she had worn had gone only to her knees. The shortest he'd seen her in by far. And her black top...like a second skin. A healthier skin, almost normal. Not translucent any longer. Covering a softer body. More curves, like she used to have. Bones not protruding so much. Golden hair shining in the dim light, coiled and braided like a princess', like a queen's. She even has it up when she goes to sleep, he'd learned during her first week here. Does she ever wear it down? Only to bathe, probably. And what does she look like then, with this slight new weight, this perfect skin, this beautiful hair reaching he doesn't even know how far down...He'd only allowed himself a few moments of ogling her before violently shoving out all thoughts anywhere near the realm of lust from his mind. The training ring was not for this.

Feyre and Elain are beside themselves with happiness, as he knew they would be, when he tells them how it went.

"She agreed to more lessons," Feyre says in wonderment.

"It can only be a good thing," Elain says, tugging on a stray lock of hair.

"Yes," Feyre agrees. "But...maybe, considering...you know. Your history." She shoots him an apologetic look. "Maybe it'd be best if..."

Cassian's heart rate picks up. "You think someone else should teach her?" No, his instincts tell him. She had asked him. She wants him to do it.

But he knows he'll give in. If her sisters think it would be better...because it's her that matters. Not what he wants. What matters is her getting better.

Oh, but he knows he can be the person to help her. Or one of the people, at least. If she just lets him.

Mercifully, Feyre says, "No, no, not that. Just...maybe you could do with a chaperone? Azriel or-well, no, not Rhys. But maybe it would be good for Az to drop by occasionally...what do you think?"

"That's not a bad idea," he admits. A buffer. He could do with one.

"So, what are you teaching her, exactly?" Elain asks.

"Just some self defense. Breaking away from an assailant, today." But maybe, in time, he can convince her to do more. More general exercise, maybe even some offensive techniques. "There was something at the House," he adds. "On the wall where the Illyrians attacked."

"What?"

"This gold...thing. Covering the damage the Illyrians did to it." He clenches his jaw at the memory.

"I thought the House was magic now," Elain says. "Couldn't it have fixed itself up."

"Nesta made it," he says. "She told it she was going to fix it, so..."

The wall had been as fine as any other in the House, in any one of Rhys' homes, before the attack. Painted well, a warm beige, and decorated with any number of ornate pictures and mirrors and shelves for vases and whatnot. But now, the wall was white and bare but for the swirling metal covering the cracks and craters.

Cassian understands. If Nesta had made something for him, he'd want it to be the only thing people saw when they looked at him.

"She made something?" Feyre asks, eyes widening slightly.

"She did say she had that jewelery thing...she said she liked it."

"I never thought of Nesta as an artist before," Feyre says, quieter. "She never had any patience for painting when I showed her."

"Well, I'm sure she doesn't think of herself as an artist...I got the impression she liked it as a way to calm herself down."

"Do you think? What does she need calming down from? Is she-is she angry, do you think?"

Feyre and Elain continue to discuss Nesta and guess at her thoughts and motives while Cassian sits and desperately wishes he could only ask her.

---

Thalia asks to see her as soon as she's available, so Nesta tells Gwyn she'll see her after lunch and heads down to her office.

"Good morning," Thalia says, smiling up at her from her couch.

Nesta sits opposite her. "Hello."

"You're looking refreshed."

"I started...some self-defense. Just a little. With, um, Cassian." Does she know Cassian, Nesta wonders. Probably. He's the kind of person everyone knows.

"Really?" Thalia says, sounding impressed. "How wonderful!"

Nesta shrugs a little.

"Well, I think that comes at a perfect time, actually."

Nesta's eyes shoot up. "Why?" she asks, wary.

"I think I've settled on an idea to help you tackle your goals. I wanted to know what you think."

"All right," Nesta says, after a beat. "What is it?"

Thalia tilts her head back slightly, chin set. Oh, this should be good. "What do you think about keeping a log and schedule of trying new things?"

She sucks in her bottom lip before saying, "Trying new things? How does that help me with my goals?" It seems like Thalia is trying to push her own agenda over actually helping Nesta achieve hers.

"It'll get you in the habit of doing things you aren't used to," Thalia says, patient. "It'll keep you focused on something. It might bring new joys or interests into your life, perhaps personally, or perhaps by bonding with others. And it'll greatly increase your confidence and self-esteem."

Nesta blinks. "That's not one of my goals."

"I know, dear. It's one of mine."

Nesta looks down. "It's..." She forces herself to say the words she would normally just drown in inside her own mind. "Just hard to remember sometimes."

"What's hard to remember?" Gentle, not prodding.

She swallows hard. It sounds so stupid inside her head. How will it sound out loud? "That I'm actually supposed to...get better. Sometimes it feels like that's the wrong thing to do." She bites her tongue-she hadn't meant for that part to come out.

But Thalia never acts like what she's saying is pathetic, even if it is.

"How does it feel wrong?"

Nesta sighs. Not out of irritation over the question, just because she isn't quite sure how to answer. "It's...I don't know. Sometimes one just knows a thing is wrong."

"Hm," Thalia says. Considering, thoughtful. "Well, at any rate, your self-defense lesson today can count as your new thing for the day."

"Well-wait, for the day? You want me to do one new thing per day?"

Thalia's lip quirk. "How often did you think I was asking you?"

"I don't know. A week, maybe."

"I don't think so. Once a day, please. Don't forget to track them all. Write them down. Run along, now, Nesta, and if you could take these books with you? Thank you."

Gwyn finds her putting Thalia's books back on the fifth level. "So, how did it go with Thalia? And with your training session with Lord Cassian?"

Lord Cassian. She'll never get used to that. "News travels fast, I see," she says primly.

"You know it does. How did it go?"

"It went...all right."

"Which one?" Gwyn takes a book from Nesta's hands and puts it on a shelf over her head.

"Both of them. Actually, I think the lesson with Cassian went better," she says in surprise, after reflecting. "And it wasn't training. It was just some self-defense."

"Same difference. What happened with Thalia?"

"She's making me try one new thing a day."

"One per day? Every day?" Gwyn shudders. "I can't believe you go along with everything she says. All her meetings and exercises and now this self-defense...You must be four times as brave as I am, at least."

Nesta winces.

"What are you going to do?" Gwyn continues, either not noticing Nesta's discomfort or respectfully ignoring it. "For your new things, I mean."

"I don't know," Nesta says, weighing two books, as if debating between her options for tomorrow and all the tomorrows after. "I guess...try every fruit I haven't?" Gwyn laughs. "I don't know what she expects me to do."

"I'm sure you'll think of things. You're...you'll do better than the rest of us. You do better than the rest of us. It's so obvious, how much you want to live." She says it confidently, assuredly, her teal eyes set.

Nesta bites her lip. "I did really want to live," she says quietly. That night in Hybern. She had fought with everything she had. The whole way to the Cauldron, and even after, inside it. She hadn't stopped. "I...can't..."

"I know," Gwyn says, voice soft as Nesta's. "You can't remember why. It's all right. You will. I can tell."

Nesta blinks rapidly. She's not about to cry. She's not. She just...she doesn't know what she is.

"I can't believe it's not even noon," she mumbles.

Gwyn chuckles. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your day's hardly going to be a quiet one. Calliope wants you all afternoon."

She likes Calliope, generally, so that's not so awful. "For what?"

Gwyn shrugs. "Sorting through her papers, probably. Maybe she wants you as an assistant."

If Nesta gets assigned to a High Priestess, than she doesn't have to do these menial tasks anymore. Of course, there's no promise that the priestess she'll be assisting won't have her own miserable things for her to do...Merrill, Gwyn's priestess, is a royal pain, Nesta knows...

"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then," Gwyn says. "Wearing your dress backwards or eating starfruit."

"Ha," Nesta says flatly.

Gwyn laughs once more before going, unbound copper hair flowing behind her.

She's wrong, Nesta knows, about her being braver than anyone else. About her being brave at all. All she's doing now is what other people are telling her. Go see Calliope in her office, Nesta. Come sit with Thalia on the third level, Nesta. Tell Clotho if you liked Daphne's lecture, Nesta. Simple motions, simple movements. Nothing brave about it.

"Now again on the left, Nesta. Good. Good."

It's Thursday morning, and Cassian is the one ordering her about. Sometimes she thinks he sounds like any one of the priestess, with how he talks to her in these lessons, which makes her feel...she isn't sure. It's odd, certainly. Considering all the ways they used to talk to each other. Barbed insults, right in the House, to the other end of the spectrum. The words that cycle in her head some nights, the newest among them being I always have time for you, Nesta...and, of course, intermittent praises from when she does well.

"Excellent. Keep your torso just like that...now with your arms just as I-yes!"

There's really not any bravery required, Nesta decides. Not when the priestesses are all eager to do anything that encourages the girls to, well, do anything, and not when Cassian is...himself. Even now that Azriel, the member of her sister's circle Nesta is wont to consider her favorite if only because he never talks to her, has started showing up for a few minutes every session. Even he, with his face more closed off than Amren's (back when they were on speaking terms), and those dark shadows of his...even he does not discourage her.

Their hour ends, and he watches her drink two glasses of water-discreetly, drinking some himself, too-before turning to leave.

"Um," she says, voice slightly louder than it needs to be.

He pauses. Turns. Waits.

She can't look away again-his eyes-but she has to say something, doesn't she? What was it she was going to say?

"I seem to be doing well," she blurts out. Then flushes crimson.

He grins. "You're doing very well, Nesta."

She smooths her skirt, as if that'll somehow help her regain composure. "What I mean is," she says, voice hopefully not wobbly, "these...lessons...seem to be doing me good."

His grin gets smaller, but his eyes grow soft. "I...am very glad to hear that."

"I mean they help me feel...better. I feel better. Stronger. And I don't get so distracted all the time. And I...don't think about drinking so much." That's true, she realizes. In fact, she hasn't wanted a drink since...Monday? Sunday? She can't even be sure.

Cassian inhales sharply. "Good," he says, rather faint. "That's...that's so good, Nesta."

"So I was wondering if maybe you thought that...because I thought...well, I-I don't know, but maybe..." Stammering, tripping over her own words, it's just-

I have never in my life thought you were pathetic.

She nearly gasps, the words playing in her mind so clear in his eyes it's almost as though she can hear him saying them aloud.

"I thought maybe some other girls would like to join. If you don't mind. Having some more of us."

Cassian blinks. "I...I don't. I don't mind at all. I think that's a great idea, actually."

"Well, I also thought," Nesta starts, encouraged, "that since, you know, you've wanted that female Illyrian legion for so long-" he blinks again, evidently unaware that she knows that-"maybe you could also see if some Illyrian girls wanted to join. Just to see if they have a taste for...any of this."

Cassian's mouth falls open slightly and his hand goes to his forehead. "I...can't believe I never thought of this myself, actually," he admits. "Self-defense as a sort of gateway...that's actually really fucking brilliant, Nesta."

She huffs a sound of amusement at his swearing; it's been so long since she's heard any curse, as the priestesses are all so pious and proper. He starts at the sound.

"Well," she says, ducking her head to busy herself with her skirt so he doesn't see her color again. "I have to go bathe and..."

"Oh, yeah. All right. Well...so Monday? With some other girls?"

"If they want," Nesta says. "I don't know if anyone will want..."

"Well, you just let them know. Maybe ask Clotho..."

"I will. And...will you go to that camp? Windhaven?"

"Windhaven?" he asks.

"I met a shopkeeper..."

"Emerie?"

"Oh," she says. "You know her."

"She's the only female shopkeeper," he says. "We've met."

"I talked to her a little. I think she might be interested. I think she has some friends who might like it, too."

"Oh," he says, surprised. "I didn't know...I assumed-well, never mind. All right, Nesta. Goodbye, then. And great idea, really. And..." he trails off. She looks up to see him smiling. "You did really well. I mean it."

She nods, just once. But then she says, "Thank you."

She can't quite believe she said that. But judging by the way his grin widens enough to show all his teeth, it's something he's been waiting a while to hear.

#nessian #nesta archeron #nessian fic #once again i never have any idea what to tag this #anyway excited that this is getting more into it #the fic i mean #i'm really excited for the next chapter when we see the girls #can't wait for nesta to have friends omg

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