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baby-dr1ver · 3 years

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woman

aaaaah part 2 of the HS1 series! v excited for y’all, it’s uuh smutty- I decided to make this smut instead of angst like the song because, i was feeling flirty!din. Like imagine when they are, ya know, the slow parts of the song- oh myyyyy goooooood. Tbh it doesn’t really make sense but, oh well?

Pairing: Din Djarin x innocent(sorta)!reader

Rating/Warnings: sex pollen!au, Din is helmetless the whole time, flirting, making out, slight fingering, p in v, dirty talk, Din being sweet, a little bit of innocent reader, slight choking, finger sucking, swear words, shitty writing.

A/N: y’all can thank @jedi-jesi because she motivated me to get this out-

Being Cara’s friend was great. You got to travel, meet new people, and even make friends. You also got to meet her friends, since you both were in the same line of work. That’s how you met Mando, or Din as he said to call him. You met him after a long, successful mission him and Cara went on.

Cara had sent you a hologram, filling you in on the latest, and you were ecstatic at the good news. She had told you that she was bringing a friend, and suddenly you were curious. You didn’t know this ‘Mando’ but, you were determined to be friends, that’s just who you were. “Okay Cara, I’ll meet y’all at the cantina!”

Before you got there, you picked some beautiful blue flowers to give to Cara, it was tradition!

When you arrived, you spotted Cara, with her broad shoulders, and what you guessed was Mando. He was dressed in his beskar armor, but without his helmet. The thought of meeting him brought butterflies to your stomach. Weird? Paying no mind, you walked right over to their table and sat down at the open seat. “Y/N you made it!” You gave her a shy smile before looking to the man across from you. “Uh, hi I’m Y/N uh Cara’s told me a lot about you.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She told you all about each mission she went on with him, and how much of a softie he secretly is.

“ hi, I’m Din, nice to meet you” He held his hand out for you to shake. Your hand felt sweaty as you reached for his. You don’t know why you were suddenly nervous. You felt sparks when your hands touched, gross. Since when were you this cheesy? “Pretty flowers,” he commented. “Oh! Thank you! They’re for Cara!” You exclaimed and handed them over. Cara took them and passed some over to Din, who took a big sniff. As he did, his body stiffened as if he was electrocuted.

Time went on and you and Din somehow sat a little bit closer. He would throw a suggestive glance your way, that implied much more. Din didn’t take you as the type of guy to have the cocky, confident attitude he was giving off, but you were liking it. “Y/N, wanna help me get some more drinks?” Din asked. You gave him a curt, shy nod and stood with him. Walking with Din to the bar, he stood close, and his hands would brush yours. That hand would run up your arm to your lower back, as if to guide you. If you could turn any darker shade of red, you would. His simple touch seemed to heat your whole body, and send tingles down your spine. You arrived at the bar and Din ordered three more spotchka’s before he turned to you.

“So, how do you know Cara?” It caught you off guard. “Oh uh, we’ve known each other since we were little, and just about 4 cycles ago we reunited.” You say with a smile, reminiscing on the past. You were sad when she left to be a Rebel shock trooper, you knew you wouldn’t see her for a while, the person you grew up with, who you’d come to love as a sister. “How about you?”

He lowered his head and chuckled, “I met her on Sorgan, uh we had gotten into a fight” He laughed. That went on for a while, the casual back and forth, as if you’d known each other forever. He’d share stories about missions, and the kid, and you, would tell embarrassing ones about Cara. You’d laugh, blush, and got lost in his eyes. You hung onto every word he spoke. The way his lips moved, the pink, plumpness of them.The way he moved his hands about, had you in a trance. You wonder how they would feel wrapped around your- You saw a hand wave in front of your face, the very hand you were fantasizing about.

“Hey! You okay? You zoned out for a minute.” You shook your head, and hoped he couldn’t sense your growing…..

“Yeah, sorry, just uh lost in thought I guess.” Din didn’t press further, just kept the conversation going. “So, any special?” You knew what he was insinuating. “Ah no, there’s no one. There hasn’t been for awhile.” You locked eyes with Din. The dark brown eyes, staring into your soul made you dizzy, and hot. He made your skin crawl with need. “I think I’m gonna get some air.” You said before you walked out into the cool breeze of the night. You couldn’t figure out what was happening to you.

Your skin felt like it was on fire. Your head swimming with need. Cunt dripping with arousal. “What is happening?” You said out loud. You didn’t realize that Din had followed you out. Watching your every move. The way you rubbed your arms, eyes, temple, stomach. Almost clutching it as if you were in pain. Little did you know, he was feeling the same. The same titillation, lust, buzzing, feeling. It was like you both had caught a- oh maker, the flower. It must have been a pollen of some sort.

“Ad’ika?” He asked softly as he approached you. His cheeks were red, at the thought of what he wanted to do to you. His confident act was long gone as he approached your trembling body. “Din-hurts-please” You say in broken fragments. Your insides feel like they were being liquified. Your body spoke before your mind did, and reached out for Din. He walked until he was inches from your body. “Y/N do you- do you feel it too?” At his question you frantically shook your head, yes. “Yeah Din, I feel it-please” He pulled his ungloved hand to your cheek and gently cupped your face. You leaned into his embrace, soothing the ache you felt for a second. “Oh cy’rika, you’re so hot huh? Need me to help you?” He wasn’t gonna tell her about the pollen, rather keep her sweet and innocent, thinking it was her body's natural reaction. “Please” You let out one last time, giving him permission. He pulled your face in, not giving you a kiss, no, just nose to nose, staring into your eyes. Your breathing picks up at the closeness of your bodys. You needed him, you needed him to soothe the ache, the fire, that was happening within you. He finally pushed his lips to yours. You let out a moan mixed with a sigh at the contact. Something inside you preened that he was finally touching you. You and Din made out sloppily before he pulled away and made his descent down your neck. “Mmhm you smell so good ik'aad. Just a needy little thing huh?” You only moaned a reply. He was kissing, licking, biting on your neck, creating bright red marks that would surely be there tomorrow.

It didn’t hit you that you were out in the open, granted it was dark and no one would see you in the alley way, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Din- oh maker- please I need more” You could feel his smirk against your neck. He pulled away, and started to trail his hands from your hips to under your shirt, trying to remove it. You lifted your arms up, to assist him, and he looked at you with awe, and suddenly was in a rush. “gota'la gar're mesh'la” He said before diving into your chest. Din bit and licked at your breast. He would grab at one nipple with his mouth while he had a hand on the other. He would pull away and watch a string of saliva come from your nipple, with pride. He would listen to the pornographic moans, and feel his ego grow. “Oh maker- Din feels so good!”

“Yeah? Are you ready for more mesh'la?” You nodded. He went to your pants, and shoved his hands in to feel your soaking wet center. He groaned as he felt you. You mewled as Din started to circle your clit with his middle finger, before he would trail down to your opening. “Gotta get you ready huh? Gotta make sure you're nice and wet for me.” Maker, the way he talked. The sweet vibrato of his voice, and the rough pads of his fingers were doing things to you. The fasterhis finger went in and out, the more his palm would rub against your clit, bringing you a little but closer to the edge. “Oh kar'taylir darasuum you like that huh?” “Hmm ye-yeah feels so fucking-” You were cut off by Din crooking his fingers just right, hitting a spot that made your back arch in pleasure. “Din I think I’m gonna- I think I might-” He stops. You stutter out in protest, upset that you were so close, and he just stopped. “Sshh ad’ika, I need to be inside you when you come.” Maker, you could melt into a fucking puddle. You didn’t care that people could walk by and see you getting your brains fucked out but the hottest man on the planet. You never wanted him to stop. Din unzipped his pants, just enough that he could pull his cock out. Gods, he was big, you didn’t know how he was going to fit. He pulled your pants all the way down before he turned you to face the wall, pulling your hips out. “You ready cy’rika?” You turned your head to him and nodded. “Are you sure it’ll fit?” You didn’t have time to think before he entered you with one swift thrust. You both let out a syncronizsed moan. Guess it does. The fire, the ache, the itch you felt, started to melt, just a little. He didn’t give you time to adjust, he started to hammer in you with no care in the world. “Maker, you're so tight. Feels so warm, and inviting.” The more he talked the wetter you got. “This what you need ad’ika, needed someone to fill you to the brim huh” Oh my- your pussy clenched, hard. Din felt it and about came on the spot. If you kept squeezing him like that, he wasn’t gonna last long. “Oh maker- yes Din- needed it so bad, need you to fill me- make me cum” You were panting. The way he fucked you, so sweet but so animalistic, he wanted to be gentle but, he was like a caveman. You savored the contact, you latched on to the careingness and dominance of Din. Your thoughts stopped when he pulled out, turned you around, lifted you up and filled you back up. This was more intimate, facing one another, legs warped around his beskar covered waist. You hid your face in his neck, hiding your red face. Moaning in his ear, leaving trails of spit and bites on his neck, wanting to leave marks of your own. You felt very possessive in that moment. Like you didn’t want anyone else touching him like you are. Din pulled you back by your hair, and kissed you. Like he was desperate for more contact. “Din, harder” You moaned out like you were in heat. Begging to be bread. It was filthy really, being fucked by a man you just met, in a dark alleyway. Begging him to ruin you, in a way no human has. Din pulled back to look into your eyes, when his hand came up to the base of your throat and lightly wrapped his fingers around it. My gods, this man was going to be the death of you. You gave a small nod before Din squeezed just a little tighter. “Such a good girl for me, letting me use her like this, for anyone to see…see you squeezing the life out of my cock” More moans flew out of your mouth. You were babbling at this point, to cock drunk to properly respond. “ge ogir ner kar'taylir darasuum” “Din please I need-” You tugged at the hand on your throat. He titled his head in worry, thinking he was hurting you. That thought disappeared when you brought his hand to your mouth. He rested his thumb on your lips and smirked, “Oh ad’ika, you need my fingers? Just a dumb baby huh, can’t even talk” You whined. He finally pushed his thumb in, at the exact same time he tilted his hips and hit your g-spot. You wanted to tell him you were close, how good he felt, how beautiful he looked fucking you. He beat you to it, “Look so pretty like this, drooling, spaced out and ready to come, ” You nodded, hoping he understood that you were close. Your moans got louder, as they ricoshade of the walls. Gods, the things he did to you. Your body was heating up, and started to shake. He must have sensed that you were close, you couldn’t tell if it was the way you were squeezing his dick or your loud moans. “You close?” He questioned, and you nodded. He took his wet thumb from your mouth, and pushed it onto your clit. He was rubbing harsh circles, praising you, waiting for you to cum. “Yeah gonna cum, gonna cum for me ad’ika- go ahead baby, cum for me” And you did. Your mouth opened in a scream, and you clutched at anything you could grba, at the time it was Din’s cape. “Din!” That’s all he heard, Over and over, like a mantra, the only thing you could remember. There was no time to come down before Din was thrusting again. He grunted and panted, trying to chase his orgasm. You pulled his face to yours so you were nose to nose again. “C’mon Din, want you to cum- want you to cum in me, don’t you want that Din?” He let out a broken moan, and thrust one more time before you felt a warm feeling deep within you. He dropped his head into your neck, and you played with the curly hair at the back of his neck. “You can’t say things like that and not expect me to blow my load like that '' You giggled at his exaggeration. You didn’t verbally respond, just a slight hum. No one said anything for a while. Your fever had broken, and you were no longer trembling. You’d hope that you would see him again. That you wouldn’t have to see him touch another woman. You wanted to wear his clothes, and parade his marks around. You wanted him to call you everyday, so your phone was never dry, and lonely. It didn’t matter that you just met Din, you wanted him. You wanted him to make you his, his woman. “Din?” He hummed back, still inside you. “Will I see you again?” He pulled his head away from your neck, and smiled. “Do you want to?” You nodded at him, and blushed. Di-d you- Did you want to?? He didn’t say anything, just pulled you in for a kiss. A kiss of a new beginning, under the stars of Nevarro.

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redhoodieone · 3 years

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Fucking Perfect

A/N: Hey, y’all!!! Here’s another fic that was actually a request from @jasontoddslut. I hope you all enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language, violence, and smut!

It wasn’t that late. With a DVD and a large free pepperoni pizza in hand (the pizza was actually a “thank you” from a local pizza owner after Jason saved his life), Jason couldn’t help but keep smiling underneath his red helmet as he drove to his and Danielle’s home. They were supposed to have a night in; no distractions, no interruptions, and no patrolling, for him at least.

But Bruce had called him for help last minute around 9:00 because Joker decided to break out of Arkham Asylum with every other inmate, from Harley Quinn to Scarecrow. To say the mission was bizarre as hell wouldn’t be exaggerating. Jason and Dick laughed their asses off the entire night because it was like a high school reunion for all of Gotham’s villains. Even Bruce couldn’t help but grin a little when he saw the Riddler and Penguin link arms and skip down the street behind Bane, Two Face, Mr. Freeze, and Killer Croc.

It was one hilarious but memorable sight.

But now all Jason could think about was getting back home to Danielle as he speeds down the streets on his bike from Arkham while holding the box of pizza and DVD. Just thinking about a hot shower, cuddling with Danielle on the couch under a fluffy blanket, and just falling asleep in the comfort of their home makes him consider giving up the vigilante life sometimes.

He wondered what his life would be like not being everyone’s hero.

No more subtle or dangerous injuries. Staying in bed the entire night. Having the ability to go here and there and do everything normal like others. Maybe even settling down somewhere in the countryside, where he can finally retain his own property, perhaps build himself his own auto salvage business where he’ll specialize in fixing and rebuilding expensive, fast cars and bikes.

Having something to call his own has always been a secret dream of his. Only Y/N knows all that.

Jason could just see it now: waking up early to see the beautiful sunrise from the safety on the ground, arm wrapped protectively around his wife, who would be pregnant with their child...

He initially tenses up at that particular thought. Jason has never even spoken about his desire to have kids. Hell, he has always boasted about hating kids; often complaining about them being bratty, loud, and just being unbearable little shits.

Jason even pretends to despise Dick and Barbara’s five-year-old son, Tommy, just because he enjoys pissing them off. But in all honesty, Jason loves his nephew and knows damn well that if anything were to happen to Tommy...Jason would fucking kill them in a heartbeat.

Fuck, even Barbara gets on Jason’s ass about when he’s finally going to settle down and have kids of his own. She and Dick make the normal, perfect life look easy. They were brave and strong enough to walk away from the vigilante life, only promising Bruce that they’ll help him every now and then and only for big emergencies.

Jason couldn’t believe it at first. Dick and Barbara just happily moved to a safe, typical suburban but luxurious home far away from Gotham. They made it look so effortless and picture-perfect.

With Dick and Barbara gone, all Jason has is Tim and Damian around. Which isn’t much considering they have their own lives.

And Jason used to have Y/N, his best friend.

Before Jason’s thoughts could consume him more, he pulls up to the private parking garage at his penthouse. After he parks his bike, he climbs off and removes his red helmet; quickly inhaling air after sweating so much. Holding the helmet underneath his left arm, he carries the pizza and DVD and heads to the elevator.

He sighs heavily; his back hurts like fuck after being thrown around a lot from Killer Croc. He wonders if it would be completely sexist or just entirely fucked up if he asks Danielle for a backrub.

We’ve been together for two years. She knows my line of work, and if she really loves me, she’ll give me an all-body massage...and besides...this is the first time I’m asking for one anyways, he thinks to himself.

The elevator dings and opens for him; revealing the private floor that is his, courtesy of Bruce. If it weren’t for Bruce, Jason wouldn’t have the luxury of such a private and quiet place to call home. Bruce owns the entire building, mostly business associates and employees live and stay here anyways.

Jason walks to the door and opens it; is actually quite stunned that it’s unlocked. Mostly because he’s OCD about that, even if this floor and this entire building is private, Jason still likes to take precaution.

The guy fucking grew up on the streets and has seen and done bad things. Really bad. But he’s not like that anymore. Oh, no he’s not. Now, Jason lives by his new principles, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a badass anymore or is violent by nature. He is still Jason Todd.

Stepping inside his penthouse, Jason kicks the front door shut with his heavy boot and sets the pizza and DVD on the entryway table. He puts his helmet back on and quickly pulls a gun from his thigh holster. Jason takes this seriously, just as with any mission or recon.

He quietly goes down the hallway, immediately notices their bedroom door is cracked open and a light is on. He raises his gun and says...

Fuck it. I’m going in with my gun. Hope this all ends well with no blood.

Jason kicks open the bedroom door and has the most fucked up, perfect view of his girlfriend, Danielle, in bed with another man; a man who is on top of her, fucking her underneath the covers, IN THEIR BED!!!!!

Danielle gasps in surprise. “Jason! What-what are you doing home so early?!” she panics. She sits up and pushes the man off of her. Her tits are on display, after the blanket falls from her chest.

The male brunette is shocked at seeing Jason. The naked man uses the sheet to hide his lower body. Jason thinks this guy is a fucking tool. He’s shaking badly, and he’s sputtering like an idiot.

“Oh, oh God! This is Jason? You’re with fucking Red Hood? Oh, my God...OH, MY GOD! This guy is gonna kill me, Dani! He-he has a fucking gun in his hand! I’m gonna fucking die!” the man cries out.

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING MOUTH, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Jason yells from underneath his helmet. The voice changer that’s built into his helmet makes him sound more dark...even demonic. But Jason could care less about anything and everything right now. All he can think about is beating the shit out of this guy. “WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

Danielle runs a hand through her messy long red hair, and sniffles. She’s actually...crying?

“This is Paul-”

“Don’t fucking tell him my name! Jesus Christ! Are you trying to get me killed?!”

Jason aims his gun and shoots near Paul’s head. The loud, piercing sound fills the room. The bullet hits the wall, but nonetheless scares the shit out of Paul.

Paul covers his eyes and cries. “Of fuck...please don’t kill me. Oh God, please don’t...”

Jason removes his helmet in anger and throws it down. His green eyes are already red-rimmed. He won’t admit he’s crying...God no...his allergies must be acting up.

“So, what the fuck, Dani? You’re seriously sleeping with someone else?” Jason asks, rhetorically of course. “In our house...underneath our covers...in our bed?!”

“Jason, please. I-I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Dani says.

“But you wanted me to find out?” Jason snaps, suddenly moves closer to the bed. Paul moves backwards away from him. “You wanted me to find out, but just not this way? JESUS CHRIST, DANI! What the fuck were you thinking?! Why the hell would you do this to me, after everything we’ve fucking been through!”

“Because you weren’t here! You weren’t here tonight!” Dani yells.

“What the hell does that mean? You decided to cheat on me because I WASN’T HERE TONIGHT?!”

Paul slowly stands up with the sheet. “Maybe I should leave...” he mumbles.

“How about I show you the way out, BUDDY?!” Jason spits out. He grabs Paul’s throat and drags him across the bedroom.

“DON’T HURT HIM! PLEASE DON’T HURT HIM, JASON!” Dani cries out.

Jason was seeing red. He couldn’t see or think straight at all. With a huff, Jason slams Paul down to the floor and drops down to beat the fucking shit out of Paul. His fist keeps coming down hard and fast, and he definitely ignores Paul crying, pleading for him to stop. Jason even ignores the sight of a lot of blood and bones cracking underneath his punches.

“STOP IT! JASON, STOP HURTING HIM, PLEASE!” Dani screams in horror, pulling Jason back by grabbing his leather jacket.

When Jason finally stops, he realizes Paul’s face is almost disfigured because of the blood and swelling, but he doesn’t care. At all.

Jason shoves Dani away from him and glares down at Paul. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Paul. You’re not going to open your fucking mouth. You’re not going to tell anyone about my home. You’re not going to tell anyone about me. Your injuries? You’re going to tell everyone you got your pansy, white ass jumped in an alley and that you obviously lost the fight. And you’re going to walk out of here naked. You’re not going to look at Dani, not talk to her, not even think about her, you’re just going leave. NOW.”

“B-but what about my-my clothes?” Paul stutters.

Jason quickly collects all of Paul’s clothes and opens his bedroom window. He pulls out his lighter and lights the clothes on fire. Jason drops them over the railing. “You don’t need them. After fucking my girlfriend in my home and in my bed, you bet your homewrecking sweet ass that you’ll be walking home in nothing but shame and remorse. Now, get the fuck out of my house before I break your legs next.”

“Yes sir. I’m sorry, sir. No one will ever know about this,” Paul rambles on as he struggles to stand up. Once he does, he quickly leaves the bedroom but not before mumbling. “Why couldn’t she date Green Lantern or-or Batman. Wait! Not Batman! Anyone but Batman and Red Hood!”

As the front door slams shut, Jason turns to face his naked girlfriend, Dani. He feels his chest tighten, causing a pain he hasn’t felt since he was a kid and lost his mother and home. He wants to cry in front of her, maybe even scream at her, but all the anger he felt before is gone now. Jason’s only left with a sense of sadness and he doesn’t even know what to do about it.

The silence is killing them. He’s no fool. He can see she’s trying to hold herself together but is failing immensely because she’s looking up at him with those sad, puppy dog eyes.

But a thought quickly crosses his mind: only Y/N’s puppy dog eyes make him give into her. Every time. Y/N’s Y/C/E eyes weakens him, and he always wants to please her when she looks at him.

But Dani’s eyes don’t. There’s no sense of comfort and warmth in them like Y/N’s.

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Jay,” Dani begins.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Jason interrupts angrily. He doesn’t even know why she’s apologizing. He knows he can’t forgive her. He won’t forgive her.

Dani scoffs. “You can’t seriously be pissed off at me. You’ve fucking cheated before. You’ve slept around like Bruce does. You can’t fucking hold this against me! I gave you a chance!”

“You’re forgetting that I used to do that!” Jason yells. He runs a hand through his messy dark hair and growls under his breath. He needs someone to calm him down. He needs someone to tell him everything’s going to be all right. He needs the comfort and warmth only one person has: Y/N. Jason realizes he needs her now more than ever, and that scares him a bit. “I haven’t done any of that shit since we’ve been together. The second I realized that I was in love with you, I changed. I changed because I wanted to be with you! And you bringing up my past to try to justify your actions is fucking wrong, Dani.”

“Cry me a fucking river, Jason,” Dani spits out.

“Nope. Not this time. Get the fuck out of my house.”

Dani doesn’t put up a fight. She gets dressed, packs a bag of her things, and tells Jason she’ll be back for the rest later. She does glance at him one last time before she walks out though.

“The thing is...I needed my boyfriend, not a hero.”

The door slams shut, leaving Jason frozen in place. The silence is deadly; he can feel his thoughts racing and screaming loud in his head.

He needs Y/N.

Jason needs his best friend.

Tears force themselves out his eyes as he calls Y/N.

“Hello?”

Jason pauses, and he wonders if he’s making a mistake. Maybe she won’t come. He hasn’t been a particularly good friend to her lately. “Y/N, I need you. I...need you, please...”

“I’m on my way.”

Jason knew he was in deep shit after he finished off a new bottle of whiskey before Y/N came over. He couldn’t help himself. After he hanged up with her, he ripped off his costume and stripped down to nothing but his white Calvin Klein boxer briefs. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, even after lowering the thermostat to 62 degrees.

Perhaps the end of his real first serious relationship was suffocating him mentally and physically. He’s never lived with a girlfriend before either.

He was about to open a new bottle of whiskey just as the front door opens and closes.

“Jason?” Y/N calls out.

Jason whips around fast and grins. He’s buzzed, but not quite drunk yet. “Y/N!”

Y/N is stunned to see Jason in nothing but his underwear as he runs to her and embraces her hard. She stumbles back a bit, but he captures her easily to steady her and holds her tightly to his chest.

“You’re soaked...and cold,”

“It’s raining outside like it always does,” Y/N giggles and gently pushes Jason back a bit. “Let me take off my coat and get warmed up.”

Jason allows her, watches intently when Y/N takes off her raincoat. She’s wearing her black and red plaid pajama pants and a Metallica t-shirt he’s positive she stole from him. She kicks off her booties and displays her light blue fuzzy socks he adores.

Jason knew Y/N had to have been in bed when he called, but she came anyway. She always comes to him because she’s always there for him.

She’s always been here for me, hasn’t she? Why haven’t I seen it before? He thinks to himself.

Y/N smiles softly and reaches a hand out to Jason. He takes it, almost hypnotized by how he does anything she wants. She leads them to the couch, but not before she sees the pizza box and DVD on the entryway table. She raises an eyebrow at him.

“That...was my failed attempt at romance tonight,” Jason admits sheepishly.

Y/N shakes her head, but still smiles. “It doesn’t have to go to waste. We can eat the pizza and watch the movie, right? I mean...only if you want to, of course,” she says.

“Only with you, sweetheart.”

Y/N releases his hand and quickly grabs the pizza and movie. She meets him in the living room where Jason’s already sitting down. She smiles and puts the DVD on. But before she sits beside him, she heads over to the kitchen. She returns with two cans of soda and napkins.

Jason looks down when her soft, small hand reaches out to him...only to take away the unopened bottle of whiskey. “No more tonight...please.”

He can’t help but nod his head. She’s right, he’s had enough to drink. He can’t numb his feelings and thoughts anymore. That’s why when Jason starts crying, he doesn’t feel embarrassment or anything. Y/N’s seen him at his best and worst; and she’s still here no matter what.

The movie is playing, but they’re not watching it. Jason can’t even hear it. When he looks up to see why, he can only see Y/N looking at him.

She doesn’t ask why he’s crying. Jason knows Y/N’s caring nature is all about comfort and understanding. That’s why he doesn’t move or say anything when she scoots closer to hug him. The second she wraps her arms around his neck, he cries freely. He embraces her; allows her scent of cinnamon and sandalwood calm him down.

Jesus Christ...has she always smelled so good? Fuck...this perfume is making me hard right now. Jason shamelessly thinks to himself.

“It’s okay, Jay. What you’re feeling right now, it’s not forever. You won’t feel like this again anytime soon. I promise,” Y/N whispers. She runs her hand through his hair. “I’ll always be here for you. Always and forever.”

Jason opens his eyes and pulls back to see Y/N. Clarity finally hits him. His heart beats faster when he looks down to her soft lips and back up to those puppy dog eyes, that he loves so much. She looks back at him with the same intensity, he wonders if she recognizes what he’s just realized.

“You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” Jason whispers.

Y/N smiles as she runs both her hands up and down Jason’s chest. “It took you long enough to see it,” she answers.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he says, nodding his head in agreement.

“No, no you just made a mistake and now you’re going to give me what we both deserve,” Y/N says softly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jason finally kisses Y/N. He wanted to slam his lips against hers, but he knew she deserved better than that. He takes his time and allows their mouths to move together, so they can really feel each other. But the second Y/N opens her mouth for more, Jason can’t say no and deny her that.

He tastes her as thoroughly as he can, but he wants more. He pulls away and asks her with his eyes. When she nods her head, he gently pushes her back onto the couch and climbs on top of her so their pelvis’ touch appropriately.

“I would take you to my bed, but I have to burn it because it’s seriously fucked up, doll,” Jason says in between his kisses. “Another man’s cum is stained all over my blankets...in case that’s not clear enough, Dani cheated on me.”

Y/N caresses Jason’s cheek and gently smiles at him. He was expecting her to cuss about Dani or get uncomfortable about talking about what happened, but Y/N did neither of those things. Her eyes said it all.

“It’s okay,” Y/N whispers. She leans up a bit to kiss him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jason closes his eyes and sighs. Y/N was here, and she’s not going anywhere. And that’s all his heart needs to move forward.

When he opens his eyes, Y/N sits up a bit to take off her t-shirt. She’s braless. Jason’s sharp intake of breath is evident when he can’t take his emerald, green eyes off her perfect tits. Jason helps her remove her pajama pants, along with her panties and socks.

His cock is painfully hard in his underwear. Seeing Y/N’s naked body underneath his is giving him all sorts of naughty ideas, but he knows what he really needs right now.

Y/N knows, too. She bites her bottom lip and pushes down Jason’s underwear, revealing his hard cock. She briefly takes in how thick his dick is and how delicious the precum is smeared across the head.

“I promise I’ll take my time learning what you taste like and what makes you cum. I just...I just need to feel...” Jason struggles out, but when Y/N touches his chest, he inhales deeply. “I need to feel warm. I need to feel...you.”

Y/N nods and looks deep into Jason’s eyes. “Feel me, Jay. I want you to feel all of me.”

Jason bravely pushes his cock inside Y/N’s pussy. He closes his eyes and breathes hard. She was everything he was hoping for. He loved the way her walls were tight, warm, and wet. He lowers his forehead to hers and he bathes in the way she moans. Jason pulls back a bit to look down at her; he smiles at the way she bites her bottom lip and throws her head back.

“Fuck...Jay move, please,” Y/N moans.

He’s more than thrilled to do her request, especially when she moans out his nickname only she can call him.

Jason moves his hips. His cock shifts in and out of her steadily before he thrusts deeper. Y/N wraps her arms around him and meets his thrusts so his cock can hit her g-spot. Jason was proud at that moment for having a cock shaped well enough to hit Y/N’s g-spot; he desperately wants to make her cum so hard.

“Oh, fuck...you feel so good, princess. Do you like taking my cock like this?” Jason moans out.

Y/N moans and wraps her legs around Jason’s waist. “Y-yes! Your cock is so big. Please go harder. I-I want to cum!” Y/N cries out.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you harder! I want you to cum with me! I want to feel you cum on this big cock!” he’s panting, he’s giving her everything she wants.

Jason fucks her harder, slams his hips against Y/N’s body. He’s already on the verge of cumming, but he can’t help it. Y/N’s moans are affecting him. Her tight heat is hitting him harder than ever. He knows this’ll be over any second, but he promised her he’ll take his time when they do it again...maybe for round two tonight.

He lowers a hand to rub her engorged clit as he thrusts faster. He’s so close. He’s so close to a hot release and he wants her to cum with him.

“Cum with me, princess. I want to feel you cum so hard,” Jason pants out, his thrusts are crazy and uneven.

Y/N raises her hips so Jason thrusts five times to make her orgasm. She cries out his name. She cums hard and all over his cock. Her walls tighten around him, and she’s sure her body goes into shock. When Y/N looks up with lustful, hazy eyes, she sees Jason’s face contorted in amazement at her.

More than satisfied, Y/N pinches her own nipples and bites her bottom lip. She wants Jason to cum now.

“Cum in me, Jay. Fill me up with your hot, delicious cum. Mmm...I can’t wait to taste it. I want to suck your big, hard cock next,” Y/N says seductively.

Jason’s face adorably scrunches up as his release hits him. He thrusts a few more times, cumming hard like she did, spurting every drop of his cum inside her. His moans drive her wild. He breathes heavily and continues to ride out his orgasm until he has nothing left to spill inside.

He pulls out and drops beside her, but quickly holds her so she doesn’t fall off the couch.

Because just imagine getting a concussion after having an orgasm.

Y/N hums in the afterglow of sex with Jason. She rests her head on his chest as he rubs her back. He kisses her forehead softly. He feels more than okay now but knows there will be plenty to talk about after the sexy haze fades.

Thoughts of living in the countryside flash into his mind. Watching that sunrise, with Y/N’s in his arms, and she’s carrying their child in her womb.

That perfect life appears real now. His dream doesn’t seem impossible to achieve. With Y/N there, everything seems possible.

“Are you okay now?” Y/N asks softly.

Jason grins and looks down at her. He doesn’t quite know what to say but figures he should try.

“With you in my arms, I’m fucking perfect, princess.”

#dc comics #batman #red hood #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x y/n smut

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earthstellar · 2 years

Photo

I can’t believe we got a Kup design for TFP, which was basically a re-deco of WFC Ironhide, and I don’t think it was used for anything aside from an RID figure in like 2012

that having been said, WFC/TFP Kup would probably not have been super kid-friendly, thinking in terms of the general target demographic/TV audience for TFP, lmao

notice how they kept the facemask on him, possibly to help justify why he isn’t constantly chewing on a cigar in this continuity LOL

I don’t really think the WFC Ironhide design works that well when re-deco’d for Kup, but then, I’m so used to him being a grey-green-teal cygar chomping rectangle of a bot that I fully admit anything else is jarring to me, lmao

also the specific shade of green is a bit weird to me; I like green on most bots that feature it as a primary paint colour, and TFP Bulkhead’s green works great, but idk, the green they used here just seems a little bit too lime-coloured?

it just seems like a very bright tone when accented with the light metallic silver, and that doesn’t really read as “old beat up bot” to me; it seems a little too fresh or clean, if that makes sense???? maybe if they covered him in superficial battle damage like scratches on his armour etc. it would fit a little better for the character. it just reads as young to me, for some reason. (and the faceplate is very G1 Wheeljack-like, which is also a little jarring, although I like the way it’s applied on the actual face model here with the angles carrying up into the optics which then lines up with the helmet centrepiece. it just doesn’t read as Kup to me, either.)

but then, TFP somehow never really had a solid toy line, so IDK I feel like Hasbro really screwed the Aligned Continuity in general when it came to figures. still blows my mind that we somehow never really got a full, complete line up of the basic main character bots.

the sun has gone down, so here’s where I rant briefly about TFP’s comparatively shitty toy releases lmao

especially as there is absolutely a good number of people who would love a TFP release of figures, like holy shit, how did THIS show not get a strong toy line???? it’s so bizarre to me lmao

like TFA had some great figures (Shockwave/Longarm in particular was cool as hell) and Cyberverse had some really killer ones too (I really like the Grimlock design from that lineup) but they just dropped the ball with TFP/Aligned designs/figures

not even gonna talk about RID because I’m still pissed off about so much of that content lmao, I just think about how they made Bumblebee a dipshit bigoted cop in that series and I physically recoil away from anything produced under that whole branding line altogether lmao, god dammit :(

people are losing their shit right now over the RED Series Knockout figure, which looks pretty screen-accurate and it’s fucking incredible, and it’s like, whyyyyy did they not do this kind of thing with TFP/Aligned designs to begin with, why are they only just testing the waters right now like a decade or more later??? please Hasbro, let us have this lmao

ANYWAY, BACK TO KUP

I’m not intentionally trying to be down on the TFP Kup design or anything, it just doesn’t read as Kup to me all that much. hard to pin it down, but I think it comes down mostly to the overall design just deviating perhaps a bit too much from what made Kup visually distinct from others (I get that he’s a re-deco here, but was the Ironhide model the most appropriate to re-deco into Kup? I’m not sure, there were so few overall figures for this line that options were limited, sigh...) and the fact that his paint tones and overall vibe just doesn’t read as an old, war-hardened, beat up gruff guy to me.

IDK this is probably just down to individual interpretation, but let me know what y’all think, I’d be interested to hear if anyone feels like this design works for Kup’s character within the context of the general WFC/Aligned Continuity designs or not! :)

that having been said, where’s my TFP episode where Kup shows up, immediately starts trashing shit with Wheeljack and Bulkhead, fifteen minutes later Miko’s asking Ratchet what a “cy-gar” is and he finally loses his shit alongside Ultra Magnus who was already begging Optimus to make it stop, lmao

#tfp kup #kup #transformers #maccadam #long post #tfp #transformers prime

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cloudywriter · 3 years

Text

camp staghorn - 4

it’s finally here - been a second ik. updates may be a tad slow these coming two weeks because so much stuff is about to be going on but hang tight. i might extend the story and just have the parts be a little shorter so it’s more manageable because right now it’s suppose to be around 9 parts. anyway, enjoy!

masterlist, AO3, main masterlist

~~~

Hours later the memory of Rowan’s face as he wrapped the towel around her was still drifting around Aelin’s mind like a feather in the wind.

He looked so unguarded, his features soft and his perpetual frown absent. Aelin wished she could have paused time right there. She wished she could’ve taken a moment to study him. It made her want to pick up a pencil and sketch him though the most she could draw would be a lopsided stick figure. If she were an artist she would’ve made him her muse.

Her campers, however, demanded revenge, an eye for an eye. As far as they were concerned, Rowan had made a direct attack on Aelin. A punishable offense. They’d been eagerly chattering all afternoon, developing plan after plan of intricate ways to right Rowan’s wrong. Aelin, though, was a little preoccupied.

She desperately needed to snap out of it, she needed to splash some cold water on her face and come back to reality. Rowan had trespassed into their camp site and outwardly tampered with their plumbing, she couldn’t let it go now.

No, Aelin Galathynius wasn’t really the kind of girl who let things go. It didn’t matter how attractive the perpetrator was.

Aelin and her girls now found themselves roaming aimlessly through the main camp. Technically it was their rest time when they were supposed to cool down and get out of the sun for a while. They were on a different mission though, they needed to scope out Rowan’s camp.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before they were found. His boys were loud and rambunctious their voices led Aelin’s group right to them like a bread trail in the woods. They were on the rock wall, taking turns racing each other up while the others cheered from below.

Each boy was suited up in harnesses and helmets. Aelin might’ve spent a little too long checking out Rowan. He was at the bottom of the wall with a rope attached to his harness, acting as one of the counselors managing the boys as they climbed up and then propelled down.

Aelin deduced it was the perfect time to strike, they were distracted and unsuspecting. He likely didn’t intend for her to have a new plan up her sleeve so soon.

Aelin and her girls kept their distance, crouched behind a line of tall pine trees that acted as the perfect cover.

“Well, ladies, what’s the plan?” Aelin inquired.

The girls gave each other a few affirming nods, silently agreeing upon a plan.

“We think we should put a butt load of salt into their water jugs back at camp,” Ansel finally spoke up.

“You think?”

“Yeah, they’ll have to be thirsty now and drink all their water. Then they’ll have to fill them up when they get to camp,” Borte declared.

Aelin decided to let her girls take the lead on this one and agreed. “Well, let’s go grab all the salt shakers from the dining hall.”

The girls nodded their heads in excitement, racing back down the path. Aelin followed behind, making sure none of their commotion drew unwanted attention.

After conjuring up at least 14 salt shakers and even an extra container of salt they found in a cabinet they trekked to cabin 1E as denoted on the map in the front of the dining hall.

That map has turned out to be quite convenient indeed.

They went to work quickly, splitting up and unscrewing the lids of the three multi-gallon water dispensers around the boys’ camp. Their hour of rest was quickly coming to a close and they needed to execute their plan quickly.

Aelin and the girls dumped generous amounts of salt into each jug. Ansel even made rounds stirring each one with a stick.

“Where did you get that stick?” Aelin asked.

“The ground,” Ansel replied simply, continuing to stir in the white granules.

“And you're stirring their water with it?” Aelin clarified.

“They’ll survive,” Ansel said earnestly as she removed the stick from one water jug and started on another. Aelin only shrugged, she probably wasn’t wrong.

The girls heard laughter from afar and perked up.

“Put the lids back on!” Aelin commanded quietly. The girls scrambled to cover the water again and camouflage themselves in the forest.

Aelin tightened the lid on the remaining jug and raced to join her girls concealed behind the trees and undergrowth.

The laughing got louder as the group got closer and closer, making their way up the rough dirt path. When they came into view Aelin could tell with their sweaty, flushed faces that they were definitely in need of water.

Much to Aelin’s luck as soon as Rowan came over the slight incline he started filling his empty water bottle with the dispenser situated just outside his camp’s cabin. The other boys also lined up at the various water stations, taking turns.

“Rowan,” one of the boys spoke up. “This water tastes funny.”

“Camp water always tastes funny,” another boy replied. “I’m sure it’s okay,” Rowan insisted. He squirted some water over his face in an attempt to cool off after being in the hot sun for hours. His cheeks were red, heated by the sun, it made his green eyes impossibly greener to the point they resembled the bright green of the surrounding foliage. He ran a hand down his face and through his hair.

Immediately, as soon as the water hit the boys’ tongues, they started spitting it out, Rowan included. A few yucks and why is it so salty could be heard, but the best part was definitely the boys’ faces. Even Rowan’s was morphed into an expression of pure repulse.

Aelin’s girls struggled to contain their giggles, clamping their hands over their mouths in a futile attempt to stifle them. Rowan seemed to be the only boy to clue into the muffled noises coming from the forest that definitely weren’t the chatter of songbirds. Aelin could tell his eyes were searching the surrounding greenery, on the lookout for anything amiss.

“Alright, I’ll go get us some fresh water, okay guys?” Rowan decided.

The boys nodded their agreement, a few still wiping at their mouths. Rowan turned around, starting down the path back to the main camp once again. A few of the girls around Aelin gave each other silent high fives, celebrating their successful prank. One more point for Aelin.

Aelin was about to suggest that they move out and get ready to feign innocence back at lunch when a pair of thick arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her up.

“Thought you were sneaky, huh?” Rowan spoke directly into Aelin’s ear, his breath ruffling the golden blonde hair that had escaped from her ponytail.

Rowan spun her around and exclaimed to his boys, “I’ve caught the offender!”

Her campers were playing along, pulling at Rowan’s shirt, trying to save their counselor. Even Aelin was laughing as she was trying to wiggle out of Rowan’s strong embrace but he kept her back pressed firmly to his chest.

“What should we do with her boys?” Rowan asked.

“Make her walk the plank!” A boy with curly brown hair shouted, punching his fist in the air.

“Alright,” Rowan conceded and began dramatically leading Aelin towards the dock down by the lake.

“No! Rowan, no, please!” Aelin began struggling but she couldn’t keep the smile off of her face.

“What else do you suggest, princess? I can’t just let you go free after committing such a crime.”

Aelin shifted just enough so she could face Rowan better, “I’ll do anything,” she breathed in such a way that she knew it would catch Rowan off guard. Just as she predicted, Rowan’s arms loosened for a second. Men were just too easy.

Aelin took the moment of reprieve gratefully and tore out of Rowan’s grasp, dashing back into the forest for cover. Rowan chased her, twigs snapping close behind. She bolted, swatting low hanging branches out of her way and gritting her teeth as thorns tore at her shins but she couldn’t afford to be caught again. She could hear Rowan following but losing ground as the forest grew denser.

Aelin took the moment of reprieve gratefully and tore out of Rowan’s grasp, dashing back into the forest for cover. She knew Rowan was chasing after her by the sound of twigs snapping close behind. She increased her speed, swatting at low hanging branches and gritting her teeth as thorns tore at her shins, but she couldn’t afford to be caught again. Rowan began to lose ground as the forest grew denser while Aelin was able to maneuver through from years of experience playing hide and seek in the woods with Aedion.

The forest suddenly opened up into a small meadow, long grass and bright wildflowers swayed back and forth with the breeze. Aelin looked back to determine Rowan’s position for only a moment when he was on her, pulling her down into the delicate green grass that spread across the field like a blanket.

They were both panting and could still hear the shouting of their campers through the trees. Aelin and Rowan were both on their backs, gulping down air.

“You know I’ll have to get you back for that now.”

Aelin pinched his side, “I know.”

Rowan only swatted her hand away before pushing himself back up to his feet. He held a hand out for Aelin, an offer. Aelin decided to take it, allowing him to effortlessly pull her to her own feet. He held onto her hand for a beat longer than necessary before letting it return back to her side.

Rowan was studying Aelin, making her suddenly feel self-conscious. Was there grass in her hair?

“What are you staring at?” Aelin finally caved.

Rowan smirked. “Nothing, just thinking about how I should repay you for that salt water fiasco.”

“Do your worst, Whitethorn.”

“I intend to, Galathynius.”

~~~

hope y’all like it so far & you’ll get some more rowan’s part of the story & his revenge in the next part. very fun. xoxo. let me know if you wanna be added to my rowaelin taglist!

taglist: @live-the-fangirl-life // @rowaelinismyotp // @gosuckadickghostman // @camilamartinezdunne //

#rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin fluff #camp staghorn

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detroitbydark · 4 years

Text

Chp 10

Characters: Commander Fox/Mouse (reader), Palpatine, Captain Rex, Anakin Skywalker, Mace Windu.

Word count:4500

Warnings: Sith typical mind fuckery, canon typical violence. Use of the force to injure.

A/N: well here we are ladies and lads, Fox lovers all. The day is upon us. I’m pretty stoked the way this one came out and I hope y’all don’t hate me too much after the fact. As always let me know what you think, ask questions, yell at me. Whatever floats your boat.

Today hadn’t started well and you were already so far past caring it was insane.

You didn’t care you’d woken up on your couch in your clothes from the day before, rumpled and wrinkled beyond salvage, your mascara a messy mask under your eyes.

You didn’t care that you spent the better part of your first hour at the office staring out the transparisteel window into the skylane that ran not far from where you sat, watching transports and speeders for by in a soothing blur.

You didn’t care about the tartness in your voice when the 501st Captain had comm’d stating it was important that he speak with Commander Fox immediately. You’d told him, in no uncertain terms, that what the Commander had on the schedule for today was of the utmost importance and that you would make sure he got the message when he got in.

Maybe you’d been a bitch, latent embarrassment from the peep show you’d unintentionally given the day before still simmering but, really, he hadn’t even offered an apology and the muffled yelling behind closed doors hadn’t done much to place him in your good graces either.

You try not to replay the night before. You’d done that plenty on the ride home. All the same, you let it play through again in your head. Now, you're looking at it in the light of day and with more clarity. The way the anxiety had been almost palpable when you’d first entered the room hadn’t seemed so obvious at the time-

“Ma’am?”

A portly woman is standing a few feet away politely smiling. Your face flushes.

“I’m sorry. Daydreaming.” You explain with a forced smile and a lie “what can I do for you?” A movement behind the woman catches your attention. A tiny green hand clings to the women's slacks as equally green eyes peek around her thick leg.

“I’m Sukin Maly with level 504 children’s home. I was told this was Commander Fox’s office?” She’s pleasant looking as she glances back at the child clinging to her before focusing on you. Lines pull at the corner of her eyes letting you know she was a woman who enjoyed smiling a lot and often.

The child slowly rounds the woman’s thigh and you watch with delight as you recognize the twi’lek girl from the pictures Fox had shown you. Pushing away from your desk you move closer, crouching down and offering your hand. Wide eyes look from your hand to the attendant who gives a small nod. The girl hesitantly takes it and you give it a gentle shake before looking back up to her minder.

“I’m afraid the Commander is out of the office today.” The woman gives an understanding smile as you turn back to the little girl.

“I think I know who you are.” You offer conspiratorially, “are you Me’kar? You made quite the impression on Commander Fox.”

Her little lekku wriggle happily at the sound of her name.

The children’s attendant says something in Ryl you don’t understand. Me’kar’s tiny hands go to the top of each lek and she makes little ears with her fingers.

“Fox” she says clear as day in basic.

You can’t help but laugh and her smile brightens as she repeats the word over and over.

“She’s picking it up quickly”, Sukin explains “but that seems to be her favorite word.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s mine too” you say softly as she bounces in front of the older woman.

”it’s nice to meet you both.” You offer them your given name before addressing the child again, “but you can call me Mouse if you’d like. Everyone around here does.”

This brings a peel of laughter bubbling up in the child as the attendant translates. She holds her hands in front of her like tiny paws and wiggles her little green button of a nose before making a squeaking noise. “Mouse,” she giggles.

You laugh as she pulls a stuffed tooka out of the bag draped across her shoulders.

“Cat. Meow.” She says proudly, holding the raggedy stuffy up. “Fox kiss better.”

You look up to the attendant with a furrowed brow. “She was quite taken that the Commander gave her kitten kisses when it was scared.”

You fight back a laugh at the image. “I wish he was here to see you. He’s going to be disappointed he missed such an important visitor.” The girl's smile fades as Sukin translates but only for a moment before she’s digging back in her bag for a folded piece of flimsy.

“Fox” she says proudly as she unfolds the flimsy, finally holding up an image she’d obviously been very proud of. It’s rough but you can very clearly make out little Me’kar and Fox drawn as brightly colored stick figures. Fox’s helmet is so large that the weight of it looks like it will break his little stick body in half at any moment, maybe it’s the small green hand intertwined with his red one that stops it from happening.

Your ovaries nearly implode. It is the single most adorable thing you’ve ever seen and you willingly take it as she turns to her minder and speaks in rapid Ryl.

“She’d like you to give it to the Commander.”

“Please?”

Saying no was never going to be an option so you nod, thrown off when she attaches herself to your waist and gives you a big hug. You pay the top of her head, “how about this. I give him this” you wriggle the picture, “and we set something up so you and your friends can come a different day when I know the Commander and his friends will be here? You could eat lunch in the big cafeteria and maybe they could give you a tour?”

Me’kar can barely contain herself as the older woman translates. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

She spins and bounces with excitement and Sulin hurries to calm her as you hide a smile behind your hand. You trade comms with the woman and promise to be in touch after you’ve spoken with the Commander and set something up. Me’kar waves manically, turning and pulling every few steps when It’s time to leave.

“Bye Mouse! Bye!”

It’s the first bright spot in your day and you cling to the swelling feeling in your heart as you return to sorting out the mess that was the day to day operations of the Coruscant Guard.

——-

The aide arrives early afternoon. You’d only just finished lunch and are busy packing your bag when you see them coming down the hall. The upturned nose and refined, high-end clothing scream politician from 20 klicks away. They’re feet away from your desk before their eyes even move to you.

“I’m sorry, Commander Fox-“ you begin your usual explanation and are quickly cut off.

“Your presence is requested this afternoon in the office of the Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine.”

The request strikes you as odd immediately both in its formality and, if by the way the aide is staring at you, its presumed immediacy.

You were not an individual that ever had any right being in the same room as someone as powerful as the Supreme Chancellor, not because you were unworthy or less than, but simply because you had nothing to offer in any way you could find necessary.

You inform the aide gently that he is likely in the wrong place, has the wrong person.

He huffs impatiently before speaking your name, “that is your name correct?”.

You nod mutely.

“Than, miss, I believe I am in the right place and the Chancellor is well aware of who you are.”

Something sours in your stomach. You wish Fox or one of the boys were around because something just seems off. “We could do this a different time?” You question hopefully, retrieving your datapad and flipping open the calendar, “I really shouldn’t be leaving halfway through my day.”

“The Commander is with the Chancellor awaiting your arrival.”

Well, you knew that, didn’t you? You were the one who’d been answering comms for Fox all day. So why did it make your stomach flip and lurch? Maybe because you’d expect Fox to contact you with a heads up or, knowing him, send one of the kits to collect you.

“So, like now?” You clarify.

The aide's foot begins an impatient rhythm, toes tapping irritably against the floor, “like, now.” He clarifies pointedly.

You try to ignore his demeanor, he probably wasn’t used to playing go-for and certainly not used to anyone doing anything less than jumping at a chance to meet the Chancellor. Still, you don’t move with any great urgency. Maybe had he been a little nicer or the request not been so abnormal to begin with. You make a point of locking down the datapads and grabbing your coat and bags, ignoring his sigh while he glances at his chrono.

He never introduces himself. Not as you follow a step behind down the halls, not as you climb into the sleek black speeder on the landing platform. Hound And Rule are parking a pair of speeder bikes. You give them a shrug and a nervous smile as their helmets both cock in question. Hound looks like his namesake be it with a more viscous paint job. You’d laugh if you weren’t so kriffing nervous. It’s stupid. So this wasn’t exactly normal, but aside from a rude, nameless aide this was nothing worse than heading to an inter-office meeting.

Than why couldn’t you shake the feeling that you were about to get in trouble, like a child being called to the principals office? Your fingers fumble as you buckle the restraint across your chest. You barely have a chance to wave to the two Guardsmen still looking your way before the speeder is diving into the skylane and heading toward the Senate Executive building.

The ride is quiet. Any attempt to make small talk is met with a simple yes or no, a few things are even ignored completely. If this guy was intending on going into politics he’d need to take a class or two on how to fake interest in his constituents.

The speeder comes to a stop at the Supreme Chancellor’s private platform and you’re ushered off without fanfare.

“Don’t we need to check in with security?” You ask as your collector opens the door to what you can only assume is the Chancellor’s suite, a rich expanse of room and excess that doesn’t allow your eyes a moment to relax or focus on one point.

“That won’t be necessary, unless you feel like you need to be scanned and patted down?” His raises brow makes you blush.

“No- of course not. Just protocol-“

“The Supreme Chancellor sets his own protocols.” He explains as you move further into the office. The large wall of transparisteel looks out over the very tops of buildings you knew to tower high about the highest heights of the Coruscanti top level. It’s breathtaking.

The decorations are ostentatious, with a very strong splash of deep red everywhere- from the carpeting to the tapestries interspersed on the walls. Bronzium statues sit atop marble stands, their twisted faces and gnarled figures seem out of place amongst all the finery before you.

“This way, please.”

You hadn’t realized you’d slowed to gawk and move to pick up the pace from where you’d fallen back. You offer a small apology that goes unacknowledged as he presses through an imposing set of doors on the other side is more transparisteel, more red.

And the Chancellor.

Sheev Palpatine sits with his hands folded on the dark wood in front of him looking as if he’d been waiting for you to arrive. He greets you as such.

“My dear girl!” He rises to greet you, moving carefully around his desk.

Your first thought is that he was not nearly as tall as you’d imagined he’d be. On the holonet he looked every bit as tall as any of the clones that served as his guards. He’s only a head taller than you, you note as he reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle shake. You smile weakly, a spark of something uncomfortable and disquieting burning inside you.

“Supreme Chancellor” you incline your head to break the uncomfortably intense eye contact, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“She is a beautiful little creature, Commander.” He intones looking past you, ignoring your greeting.

You glance over your shoulder to see Fox standing at attention next to the door you’d walked through. It was a wonder you hadn’t noticed him immediately but with all the red bleeding through the room it was no great difficulty for him to blend in. He tips his helmet toward you even though he seems stiff. Regardless, just his presence does something to calm your nerves. Any residual anxiety about the pair of you seems to dissolve as you look at him. When you turn back to the Chancellor your smile is genuine.

The chancellor’s is still questionable while he cups your elbow and leads you toward his desk. The soft clatter of plastoid armor follows behind you. You can feel Fox behind you, can almost imagine his all too familiar body heat radiating along your back. You fight the urge to let your hand sweep behind you in an attempt to capture his own.

“My dear, the good Commander speaks very highly of you.”

“I think very highly of him” you murmur fighting the urge to look behind you.

“Very good. Very good. Have a seat and we’ll begin our little meeting.”

The chair is plush and comfortable. When the Chancellor sits down across you notice that his chair is positioned slightly higher than your own, making him appear as if he was looking down at you. The desk is fairly clean, only a handful of datapads and some neatly organized flimsy. Next to everything is a gleaming blaster. It’s hard to keep your eyes from skimming over it. You’d sat through enough conversations with Hound and Ryk to not recognize a hold-out blaster when you saw one.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it? Blas-Tech, I believe.” The chancellor motions toward the blaster but you shake your head. As much as you’ve been privy to conversations about the different makes and models you’d never really become comfortable with the actual blasters themselves. “Well suit yourself” the chancellor shakes his head gently picking up the blaster and making a show of turning it in the light. It’s small, most hold-outs were. “A gift from one of the Corellian delegates” he continues “a very thoughtful gift but I personally find blasters rather uncivilized.” He makes a show of setting it down closer to you.

“I see” you fidget in your seat, “I really don’t want to waste any of your time. I’m sure you have far more important-“

“- this is of the utmost importance, I’m afraid” there’s something about the almost apologetic look he gives you or maybe it’s the slight cooling of his tone that washes away any comfort that knowing Fox was with you had provided.

“I’m afraid, I’m not sure what this conversation is about.”

A scoff crosses the length of the desk as the Chancellor looks past you to Fox. “She is very tricky isn’t she Commander? Had I known you couldn’t see past a simple deception I would never have encouraged you to pursue her.”

“My apologies, my lord” Fox’s voice is cool and emotionless, not the rich baritone you were used to. Warning klaxons sound in your head.

“Sir?”

“Oh, dear girl there’s no use hiding it any longer.”

Your heart rate is slowly creeping up, moving more close to the rate of your namesake than you were comfortable with. You attempt to rise to your feet but a pair of gauntlets come down on your shoulders and press you back into the chair that no longer feels comfortable.

The chancellor rises and moves toward the windows, his fine robes swing around him as he goes. Your eyes follow him carefully. Pressure builds at the back of your skull, a wholly inopportune moment for a headache to present itself if you’ve ever had one. You shake your head gently in an attempt to dislodge it. The chancellor laughs and it sends a cold shock down your spine.

“You’ve used your position and your wiles to lead the Commander astray” he begins “you’ve filled his head full of ideas of conspiracies and plots that don’t exist. And for what, might I ask?”

When you turn and look up at Fox he’s staring down at you through the dark lens of his visor. You will him to say something, anything. Surely this was a mistake.

“Fox, you can’t believe this?” You turn toward Palpatine, “this is a mistake. I’m not sure where this has come from-“

“-So I shouldn’t believe that you gathered the data for the Commander? That you didn’t read through it unlawfully and offer your own silly ideas as to what happened after our best investigators found that the ARC trooper acted against the Republic? That he was, indeed, intent on assassignation?” The chancellor’s voice grows louder as he speaks.

Your mouth gapes as he continues.

“Should the Commander not be made aware that you’ve used his affection to manipulate a good soldier into believing that the Grand Army, the highest level of military excellence in the galaxy, was intent on destroying not only his brothers but the entire Jedi order?”

Fox’s hands leave your shoulders and you jump to your feet, the chair pushing back behind you, forcing him to take a step back or be hit with it. His hand rests at his hip, fingers wrapped around the grip of his deece. The pressure on the back of your head intensifies, burns.

“You used me” the words are a broken snarl, an injured animal fighting back. “You made me love you so you could what? Tell me damnit!” His body is tight, coiled like a spring ready to snap.

“Fox, this isn’t right-“

Palpatine's voice rises over the pair of you. “I’ll tell you Commander. She came with the intent of finishing what the ARc trooper started. She was a conspirator.” The word conspirator is hissed out. Fox’s head jerks than shakes. The heel of his free hand presses against his visor. You want to go to him, find a way to make him understand, to soften the hard lines of his body.

Pick up the blaster.

A voice, cool and calculating echoes in your skull. Your eyes trail down to the blaster and your fingers flex into a fist, knuckles going white as you fight the urge that you shouldn’t have. You can hear your heartbeat pounding along rapidly in your head, adrenaline flooding your system.

“She’s here to kill me Commander. She is a spy and assassin. How else could she get in here without the guards knowing?”

Fox’s hand twitches over his own blaster. “It hurts” one hand presses at the side of his bucket. Is Palpatine in his head too?

Pick. Up. The. Blaster.

Your skull feels as if it will implode at any moment. Your eyes turn away from Fox and to the Chancellor. A cruel smile twists his mouth, a vicious play on a genuine one. Your brows furrow together as the clanging in your head grows louder.

“You’re doing this?!” Panic rises in your throat, bile burns it raw. “Why? Get out of my head!”

The pained squeal that slips from your mouth sounds foreign, a feral animal sound. “Get out of my head!” You sob whipping around. Fox, who seems to be struggling on his own, drops down to one knee, bucket cradled in his hands.

“Cyar’ika-“ he sounds small and you want it to stop, would do anything to protect him. His visor rises up to meet your eyes and you swear you see him clear as day as if it’s not there. He’s your Fox and he needs you.

Because you love him.

“How touching” Palpatine's voice echoes through the room, a perverse pleasure notable in his tone as he sees your realization from inside your mind.

But you love Fox and the weight of it gives you strength. You push harder against whatever magic has slithered into your head.

“Good soldiers follow orders” Palpatine reminds, voice cold and calculating “Shoot the traitor.”

“Fox, it’s me.” You beg him to see you. To look at you “he’s making you believe something that isn’t real. See me-“ a broken sob bubbles it’s way over your lips, “Fox…”

Distantly, the sound of blasters and the rising shout of voices becomes clear but you don’t have time to discern what’s going on.

“You will shoot the assassin commander. The blaster is in her hand. Do it, Commander!”

“Mouse- I- I- can’t” Fox’s voice comes out as if through gritted teeth and then something snaps and he rises back to his full height. The uncertainty that had been rolling off of him is gone.

“No, no, no…” you mumble, shaking your head as tears fill yours eyes. Your hand covers your mouth in horror as if it alone can hold your grief in. Fox raises his blaster at you. Desperately you turn to the chancellor. “Please! Please don’t make him do this! I’ll do anything. Please don’t make him!”

He laughs in your face and you finally do as the voice in you head has willed.

You grab the blaster.

It feels foreign in your grip. You scream as a bolt from Fox’s deece grazes your left shoulder but your right hand holds tight to the one in your hand.

“PUT IT DOWN! GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!” Fox’s voice booms as you turn back toward him. There’s no way you will get a shot off on the chancellor. “Mouse- please-“ desperation bleeds through his words suddenly and it hurts almost as much as the singed flesh of your arm.

You raise the blaster to your head. You're going to die. You know it in your very soul. Now it was only a matter of how and who. It won’t be Fox. It will be the last thing you do-

“DO IT!”

Noise erupts around you. The doors of the Chancellor's office explode open, splinters of wood showering down.

Chaos ensues.

Another blaster bolt hits you in the right flank while your attention is divided. Everything moves in slow motion. The blaster in Fox’s hand shakes as he continues to aim it in your direction. The smell of ozone assault your senses. The room spins on its own unseen axis.

The blaster falls from your fingers with a clatter as you drop to your knees. You can’t breathe, your mind screams to draw in a breath but your body refuses to comply only allowing shallow, useless gasps.

Lights flare in your periphery purple, red, blue. Voices roar to life.

Electricity tickles at your skin as your hands press down over burnt flesh. “Fox…” his name comes out as a whimper as the transparisteel at your back shatters, shards of it bite into your back, burrow deep into your flesh. The smell of blood, the coppery tang makes your stomach heave..

Chaos is everywhere, omnipotent and overwhelming. Voices shout, threaten, and yell and you struggle to focus in on any one thing.

“Don’t take another step, vod!” You see the familiar blue and white jaig eyed bucket of Captain Rex. Twin deeces are aimed at Fox but his blaster is only half pointed, his head cocks then shakes violently. “I said stop, Fox!”

“It’s not him-“ the words come out in a choked cough, not loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of wind rising up between the buildings and the clashing of Jedi lightsabers. You press up on one arm and point shakily with your injured left arm. You try again, “it’s him!”

Rex’s helmet tips toward you but his blasters remain trained on Fox as you point toward the old man held at the tip of a purple saber.

You don’t have the strength to stay upright and your arm crumples. You fall against the red carpet with a gasp. Your shoulder bears the brunt of it causing bright hot pain to shoot anew through your body. When you're able to open your eyes, your blood mixing with the red fibers, almost imperceptibly, greets you.

“Mouse- Fierfek” the gutted sound of Fox’s voice slips into your ears, “I’m sorry. I’m-“ he voice is choked off as he grabs at his throat. Another man, lip curled back in a snarl, advances on him hand raised. His robes are dark matching the poisonous look in his eyes.

“Yes, young Skywalker. Strike him down!” The chancellor's sickly voice rises up over the winds.

“Anakin!” The Jedi wielding the purple saber snarls. You see him look back at the chancellor.

“I am the senate. You will not kill me, Jedi”

“The senate is overruled”

The purple saber flashes without hesitation. You choke back a scream as Sheev Palpatine’s head leaves his body. You struggle, dragging yourself toward Fox as his hands claw against his own throat trying to dislodge his invisible assailant.

“General! Enough!” Rex’s voice rises as you grab at Fox’s leg pulling yourself in front of him.

“Skywalker” the other man intones quietly. The purple glow retracts as he places a hand over the younger Jedi’s forearm and presses down, “let him go. This wasn’t his doing.”

You miss the choked cry the younger man bites back because whatever has held Fox at bay releases him and he falls forward, body draping over you protectively.

The winds still howl, blowing up from the deep wells of Coruscant below but it sounds distant. It doesn’t chill you like it had because Fox is with you and he’ll make everything right.

You want to tell him how much you love him. You want to kiss him just once as the darkness presses in at the edges of your vision. It’s a struggle to focus on the lines of his helmet, to pretend you can see through to the cut of his jaw, his full lips -that turn up just so when he smiles- and the soothing browns of his eyes.

“You don’t get to do this” he whispers angrily between harsh breaths. His arms wrap around your body pulling you close his nose pressing against your temple. “You don’t get to die because of me”

You tell him it’s not his fault, or at least you try. You can’t make your voice work.

Fox’s lips press roughly behind your ear. A continuous loop of promises and apologies and curses spill from his mouth. Mando’a and basic slur together. You try to keep your eyes open. You want to stay with him. It doesn’t hurt anymore so everything must be ok. Fox has made it ok…

Someone yells for a medic and the darkness overtakes you.

#commander fox/reader #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox x Reader #fox fanciers #tcw #palps gets what's coming to him #im sorry #dont hate me

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midnightmelodrama · 4 years

Text

shut up and drive

requested by anon

Hey! I love your writing!! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests now but I saw this photo of Tom at a F1 GP and I thought it’d be cute reader being an f1 driver and him being really supportive of them

Pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader

Summary: Tom shows his support for you at one of your races, driving for the win.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: fluff, fluff, tooth rotting fluff (I hope), swear words, sex reference

A/N: i'm so sorry anon, i have no idea how races work so i tried my best, thank u for requesting. i hope u enjoy, i love you, bebe and i’m sorry for taking a while to write this🥰

“Holy shit. I’m doing this. Holy shit.” You repeated as Tom wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him.

“You’re gonna do great, love. Relax for me, okay?” He said, rubbing your back soothingly as you buried your head in the crook of his neck.

“Give me a kiss for good luck?” You batted your eyelashes at him, staring into his eyes while twirling your fingers around the curls that were sticking out of his pink cap. He knew what you were doing, you did it every time you wanted something from him, especially physical affection. All you had to do was bat your eyes at him and his knees would go weak for you, feeling his heart beating at a rapid pace, cheeks flushing.

Tom rolled his eyes playfully, biting back a smile, but failed when he saw you beam at him. He chuckled before placing his lips on yours. You smiled into the kiss, feeling your nerves begin to die down, and just as you were pulling away from the embrace, Tom pulled you back into him, kissing you once more. His hands slid down to your back to your waist, giving it a small squeeze. You gasped when you felt him grip your ass tightly, giving his tongue access to your mouth. Your hands went to his neck as you tried to get him impossibly closer to you.

“Y/L/N!” One of your best friends and mechanics, Leah, yelled, making you separate yourself from Tom’s lips. You looked at her still holding Tom in your embrace.

“Hmm?” You hummed, nodding your head. Tom’s gaze stayed on you, blissed out after your little makeout session.

“C’mon, all the racers are already out there.” She responded, rolling her eyes because the two of you were always so sickly sweet, even though everyone secretly loved it.

“Oh, shit!” You screamed, giving Tom a quick kiss on his pale cheek before running out of the garage with Leah.

Tom’s eyes wandered over your body, loving your red racing suit as you disappeared into the tracks. He was licking his lips, thinking about kissing you again, maybe do even more when you came home with him, a trophy in your hands. When he felt a hand touch his shoulder, he flinched aggressively and balled up his fists, ready to throw a punch. He looked back to see Harrison with his hands in the air, shaking his head at the brunette.

“God, you scared me, shithead.” Tom hissed.

Harrison laughed loudly. “Is that your spidey sense or what?” He asked sarcastically.

“Shut up,” Tom muttered. Harrison grinned, seeing his best friend get pouty like a child.

“Man, you’re so whipped.” Harrison laughed once again, wrapping an arm around Tom’s shoulders.

Tom pursed his lips together, looking back at the blonde. “Yeah, I am.” Harrison rolled his eyes as the two of them went to sit next to Leah, Tuwaine, and Harry.

Tom watched you as the engines of the cars roared loudly. You had your red helmet on and he would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on to see you being a badass on the road, but it also made him happy. You were so strong and independent, it was one of the many reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place. He smiled once you and the other racers sped off.

You felt the euphoric rush of the car running fast and loud. You had always loved to drive. From a small age, you had been taught how a car works from the inside and it fascinated you, and even had a job as a mechanic during high school. Eventually, you became a racer, loving the thrill of the car speeding faster than you had ever done in the streets. You screamed in excitement, hearing your team chuckle through the radio in your ear, and before you knew it, you had already passed the first lap.

As the race went on, Tom sat with your friends and team, shamelessly cheering you on. He was just so proud of you for following your dreams. His eyes were trained on your car, watching you outrun every car that came your way.

“WOOO! THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND! THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND! SUCK IT!” He screamed at the top of his lungs when he saw you become second place. The other teams shot him glares and stared at him with bitter frowns on their faces.

“What?” Tom barked. “You got a problem, mate?” He challenged, rolling his sleeves up as he began to walk towards the guy who stared at him like he was a madman. Harry stood up, placing his hands on his shoulders, trying to calm his brother down. Tom’s jaw clenched as Harry sat him back down. However, Tom’s anger soon washed away when you stopped at your station, your mechanics began to change your tires. Leah grabbed Tom by the arm, pulling him towards your car.

“She’s asking for you,” Leah spoke nonchalantly.

Tom saw you in the car panicking. His protective boyfriend instincts kicked in, feeling extremely concerned.

“Tommy, I don’t think I can do it.” Your voice broke as you felt your helmet suddenly begin to suffocate you, the air becoming thin.

“Hey, hey, hey. Listen to me, baby. You’re amazing, you’ve fought and worked incredibly hard for this. You deserve a win, love. Do this for you. Just shut up and drive.” He smiled, kissing you softly. You pulled away, feeling less anxious. You nodded as your boyfriend’s words sunk in.

“I love you.” You said, smiling.

“I love you too,” Tom muttered, leaning in to kiss you again until your mechanics shouted, signaling you that the car was ready to go.

Tom ran off, shouting a small “good luck” as you sped off, feeling motivated and ready to take the victory by the horns.

Tom’s heart raced, watching you get closer and closer to the number one spot. His leg bounced up and down in suspense. Every time you tried to pass the car in first place, they blocked your way, and the finish line was getting too close.

“Alright, Herbie. Time to show off.” You muttered. You changed gears, pulling a reverse. You watched as the driver’s eyes widened as you stuck your tongue out to him, you changed out of reverse. Laughing and cheering once you were in first place.

“YES! YES! YES! THAT’S MY Y/N! THAT IS MY FUTURE WIFE RIGHT THERE!” Tom screamed, the boys and the team joining in, feeling absolutely glorious.

You felt the adrenaline course throughout you as the black and white finish line came closer into your view. The crowd stood up, suspense building up, the car behind was quickly catching up. You looked back and groaned.

“Come on, Herbie, gimme the best you got.” You said, shaking your head while the car began to drive at a faster pace.

Tom watched, holding Harrison’s hand, feeling anxiety bubble up as Harrison stared at him with a disgusted frown. He looked down their intertwined hands, still frowning until he shrugged, dismissing it and turning his attention back to the race.

You sucked in a breath, reaching the finish line. Before you knew it, you had crossed it. The crowd rose up, clapping and cheering for you. You screamed, feeling the euphoria of the moment.

“Holy, shit. I just won!” You screamed into the intercom with excitement.

“Yeah, you did.” Leah chuckled, proud of you.

You stopped at your station, stepping out of the car as Tom came to wrap his arms around you. He placed his lips on yours before you could even open your mouth to talk to him. You kissed back, surprised but happy that your boyfriend was here with you. He pulled away, panting, still holding you in his arms.

“This my wife, and she just whooped all your asses!” He yelled, mocking the other teams.

“Tommy, calm down.” You muttered, being slightly embarrassed by Tom’s actions.

He looked back at you with his brown puppy eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m just so proud of you my love.” He chuckled. “But there’s other ways of showing that, right?” He smirked, biting the skin of your neck while pulling you closer to him. You gasped, slapping his chest playfully, making him laugh loudly.

“I love you.” You whispered.

“I love you too.” He whispered back.

A/N: hi, i know i said i was taking a break cuz of school, i just really needed to write something since it makes me feel a bit happy, and i just haven’t really been feeling good these past few weeks. i hope y’all enjoyed. imma finish the other request in my inbox, but i’m not gonna start writing the series until i get 100% back on track. i hope you enjoyed❤️

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #michelle writes

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comrade-kenobi · 3 years

Text

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Frankie Morales- Frankie x Reader (Daycare!AU)

I don’t know how good this is, but i thought it was cute. Happy Halloween, my loves!

Frankie and Ellie’s costumes are perfect, change my mind lmaooo

(Also I’m referencing a very specific thirst trap on tiktok with the readers costume because it’s burning into my brain forever, in a good way.)

“Are you doing anything for Halloween?” Frankie asked sheepishly, busying himself with putting Ellie in the car so you couldn’t see how nervous you were making him.

“Nope.” You replied with a light shrug, trying to think of the last time you’d actually had Halloween plans.

“Well,” Frankie started, ducking his head out of the car, and looking at you for the first time since he’d gained the courage to ask the question. The way the setting sun had lit up your face made him lose his breath, and his courage, for a moment.

“You’re, uh, more than welcome to come trick or treating with Ellie and I.” He finished, all in one breath. You smiled at his quickened words, and Frankie could feel his face warming up under your gaze.

“I’d love to.” You replied, as a beautiful smile graced your perfect features. He watched as you considered something for a moment, and then spoke again. “What are you guys gonna be?”

“Baby yoda,” Frankie answered proudly. Thinking of how goddamn cute she looked when he’d put her in the costume to try it out.“Ellie’s going to be baby yoda.”

“And you?” You asked, quirking your brow with a little grin.

“I bought a cheap Mandolorian helmet, I figured that would work.” He said, suddenly feeling a little self conscious at his lack of effort.

“Perfect.” You replied, “I’ve got a Star Wars costume at home that I think still fits. It’s a date.”

Frankie smiled like an idiot the whole ride home. He knew ‘it’s a date’ was just an expression, but the two of you had been getting closer lately; and that gave him hope. More hope than he’d honestly had in a long time. Besides, the idea of the three of you going out in matching costumes was enough to keep him smiling for weeks to come.

---

When Saturday finally rolled around, 4 o’ clock couldn’t come soon enough. Normally Frankie’s weekends flew by, but today seemed to drag on forever. He’d cleaned the whole house, thrown up some spooky decorations, and gotten Ellie ready with some time to spare. So he took it upon himself to have a photoshoot with his little yodito.

Frankie was finishing up taking, what he considered to be, the cutest pictures in the world when there was a knock on the door. His heart leapt into his chest when he looked at the time. 4 o’ clock on the dot. It was definitely you. He took a deep breath and collected himself before he opened the door.

“H-hey…” He stuttered, freezing in place with a dumb look plastered onto his face. He knew you were dressing up, but he was in no way prepared for what he saw. There you stood, smiling in his doorway in black jedi robes, and black thigh high boots.The costume wasn’t skimpy, but God was it sexy. You were showing a sinful amount of the soft skin of your thighs, and the glow of the red lightsaber against your face threatened to awaken something deep within him.

“Hi” you replied, either not noticing or completely ignoring just how taken aback Frankie was by your outfit.

“I-I, uh, like your costume.” Frankie said, moving out of the way so you could come in. His eyes briefly wandering to the curve of your ass as you brushed by him.

“Thanks” you replied, anxiously fiddling with the sash that draped down between your legs.

“It was sexy Anakin Skywalker, or a Jawa.” You continued, your face scrunching up in embarrassment as you listed your options.

“I’m glad you went with this one.” Frankie said, quickly realizing how creepy that could have sounded and rushing to further explain himself. “I’m not a huge fan of Jawas.”

“I’m happy I made the right choice then” you smiled, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. Though, that silence didn’t last more than a few seconds before Ellie started happy screeching.

She’d noticed you were here from her place on the floor and crawled over to you at the speed of light. The ears of her costume flopping wildly as she went.

“Hey Ellie-Belly!” You squealed, scooping her up into your arms and covering her little face with as many kisses as she would allow.

“Frankie, this is the CUTEST thing I have ever seen.” You gushed, playfully pinching Ellie’s cheek before nuzzling your nose against hers, making her laugh.

“Isn’t it.” He agreed proudly, his heart swelling in his chest as he watched the way you and his daughter interacted. He’d been so worried when he first dropped Ellie off all those months ago, and now he was so glad that he had nothing to worry about. You loved her like she was your own, and Frankie couldn’t be more thankful.

“Ready to get going, Mando?” You asked, jerking your head towards the plastic helmet that sat on the coffee table.

“Ready, Master Skywalker.” He replied, completely unable to suppress the child-like grin growing on his face.

---

Every house you’d gone to swooned over your costumes, Ellie’s in particular. And who could blame them, she was the cutest baby either you or Frankie had ever seen.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest family ever!” A kind older lady gushed as she placed a few candies into Ellie’s pillow case.

“Thank you.” Frankie replied, thankful for the cover of the helmet. It hid his blush from you, and this kind stranger.

“Have y’all been able to take a picture together yet?” She asked, her eyes happily darting between the three of you.

“No ma’am, not yet.” He responded, looking over toward you. You looked back at him and smiled, shifting slightly to move Ellie higher up on your hip.

“I can take one for you if you’d like,” the lady offered. Frankie looked over at you and you nodded at him, rather enthusiastically.

“We’d love that, thank you.” Frankie answered, opening up his camera app and handing the woman his phone.

The three of you stepped off of her porch and onto the sidewalk. Ellie dove into Frankie’s arms on the way there, she’d spent the whole night hopping between the two of you, never really sure of where she wanted to be. Frankie gladly took her and she snuggled into his chest.

“Ready?” The lady asked, “Get in close!”

Frankie put his free arm over your shoulders, and you wrapped your arms around his waist with your head resting perfectly on his chest. Ellie lifted up her head and made an excited squeal, clapping as the two of you hugged.

“Perfect!” The lady exclaimed from her porch, before walking down and handing Frankie his phone.

The two of you thanked her and headed on your way. You only made it to another few houses before Ellie started yawning.

“I think it’s time we head back.” Frankie said, kissing the crown of his sleepy daughter's head.

“I think so too,” you replied as Ellie started reaching her arms out towards you. Crying lightly when you didn’t take her fast enough.

Ellie fell asleep in your arms on the walk back, so you put her right in her crib when you got home.

“You know,” you started, walking out of Ellie’s room. “It’s still pretty early, you want to watch some scary movies?”

“Together?” Frankie asked, causing you to chuckle.

“Yeah together, pizzas on me this time?” Your smile made Frankie weak, and he wondered for a moment how he could ever deny you.

“Sounds good to me.” He replied, a happy warmth settling in his chest at the idea of you sticking around longer.

---

The two of you snuggled up, dangerously close, on the couch to enjoy some good pizza and bad movies. The longer the movie went on, the closer you got to him. You’d taken to hiding behind Frankie’s back, and squeezing his arms every time the music got suspenseful. At one particularly bad jump scare you’d practically jumped into his lap, your face turning red as a tomato once you’d realized what you’d done.

When the first movie ended Frankie noticed the goosebumps on your skin, and the way you shivered when he moved away to get another slice of pizza.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his fingers lightly brushing the cool skin of your arm to check.

“A little” you lied, trying to play off another shiver, but failing miserably.

“I’ll get you something a little warmer.” He chuckled, heading off to his room to find you a pair of his sweatpants and a flannel.

“I have a question,” he began when he got back, holding the clothes just out of your reach. “Why do you have a sexy Anakin costume?”

“Don’t ask…” you groaned playfully, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Fine,” he conceded with a laugh, tossing his warm clothes your way. “Keep your secrets.”

---

Frankie wasn’t sure what was sexier, you in the costume, or you in this clothes. He had to force himself not to stare. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but there was something about the look of his flannel on you that drove him crazy.

The both of you settled back onto the couch and continued watching movies. Laughing at the cheesy lines, arguing about which classic killer was the scariest, and practically yelling at the tv every time the protagonist did something stupid.

“We should do this more often,” you said almost dreamily as you smiled up at him.

“You said that…” Frankie replied in disbelief. A near love-drunk smile playing at his lips as he looked down at you.

“Yeah…” You nodded, smiling back at him, wider this time. Then you rested your head on his shoulder and went back to watching the movie. Frankie had to resist the urge to pinch himself, because he was sure he must be dreaming.

Later that night, after you’d left and Frankie had gone to bed, he was scrolling through his phone. There he found the picture of the two of you with Ellie, he’d forgotten all about it. His heart skipped a beat when he finally looked at it. It was perfect. You were holding each other close, huge smiles painted on your faces as you both looked at Ellie. Who was looking back at the both of you, hands clasped together, mouth open wide, and eyes sparkling with pure joy.

Frankie laid back in bed and closed his eyes, thinking that if this was a dream, it was a hell of a good one; and he never wanted to wake up.

Tags: @mrpascals @yespolkadotkitty

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #Frankie Morales x you #Pedro Pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #baby yoda

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mell-bell · 4 years

Text

Fight so dirty (but your love so sweet) - Part VI

The Mandalorian x Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

Words: 4463

Series Summary: You are sent to hunt down a Mandalorian, the odds aren’t exactly in your favor

Chapter: 6/8

Author’s notes: No words just love. Y’all are the best. I procrastinated all week because I suck so I REALLY hope this chapter turned out alright because I’m really not sure how I feel about it lol also I raised the chapter count again I really don’t know this story is writing itself and won’t let me live apparently lol anyways hope you guys enjoy!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat motionless on the ground. Quiet. Broken. Staring blankly at the wall in front of you.

The Mandalorian fussed over you, his hands running over your body, pulling at your clothes, looking for broken bones, bruises, or cuts.

But you knew there were none. You hadn’t been injured. You had just blown your cover. Were you the reason the little one had been captured?

That bounty hunter had known the whole time that you were working with the Mandalorian. But he had waited to tell the Governor. Was it so he could track down the child?

If you had just taken him out when you first recognized him, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

This was all your fault.

The Mandalorian’s hand brushed across your cheek and you flinched. You swatted his hand away. But when it rose back up, once more brushing over your cheek trying to guide your gaze to his, you growled, shoving him back before pushing yourself to your feet.

“Stop.” The man said.

“Tell me again.”

The Mandalorian sighed, sitting down heavily in the chair behind him, his hand rubbing over his face. His face was bruised, lip split. But it was his eyes that were the worst, they were dull and sunken as if he hadn’t slept in days.

“This isn’t helping anything. Will you please sit down?” He pleaded.

“No!” You screamed, running your hands through your hair.

He remained silent as he watched your control waver.

“They have him.” Your voice cracked, “They have him. And we have to get him back. I didn’t go through hell this past month just to lose him. All of this was meant to save him. Was I the reason he was taken? I-”

Your hands slammed into the table in front of you, the frustration and anger building up inside you. You grabbed the lamp off the table and threw it forcefully against the wall watching calmly as it shattered into a million pieces.

The Mandalorian stood abruptly, reaching out to grab your hand, trying to stop you from causing more destruction.

“Look at me.”

You shook your head, pulling your hand away.

He reached out once more, leaving his hand in front of you, waiting for you to take it yourself.

“Look at me.” He said softer this time.

You swallowed hard, but finally looked over and met his eyes, your vision blurring over as tears threatened to fall. You reached out grabbing his hand, his fingers threading through yours.

“We’ll get him back.”

“But what if we don’t.”

“We will.” He promised.

He pulled you close, your arms wrapping tightly around him. As he leaned down pressing a kiss on the top of your head the tears you had so desperately tried to prevent began to seep into the man’s shirt as he held you tight against him.

“Let’s try to get some rest.”

You tried.

But you couldn’t sleep.

You laid awake, your gaze firmly fixed on the ceiling above you. You could sense the man beside you, still awake as well.

Your mind was swimming with a sea of possibilities. All you could think about was how scared the little one must be. How you were safe and sound on this ship, his home, while he was alone with strangers. With former members of the Empire.

You must’ve fallen asleep from pure exhaustion because just a few hours later you woke with a startle. Your heart was pounding as you took in your surroundings.

You couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours.

Living in Moff Gideon’s mansion for over a month had trained you on how to survive with little sleep.

You had not trusted one person in that house. And you were too vulnerable during sleep. It had all started just a few days into your mission when you had woken to find a stranger in your room. He had claimed he had gone into the wrong room, but the blaster at his side said otherwise.

Wide awake now, you reached out for the Mandalorian who should’ve been resting beside you. But when your hand just hit the sheets of the bed you frantically glanced around the room, sighing in relief when you saw the Mandalorian sleeping in a chair next to the bed. His hand resting just an inch away from you.

He looked exhausted, the lines around his forehead more pronounced, the bags under his eyes dark. You ran a hand over his hair and smiled softly when he hummed peacefully.

Pushing yourself up, careful not to wake the sleeping man, you stepped into the refresher attached to the bedroom. You groaned slightly, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You were still covered with dirt and blood and now understood why the Mandalorian had been worried.

You ripped at the imperial clothes you donned, tearing at the symbol adorning the sleeves, burying them deep in the trash can. Looking back into the mirror you gazed at your reflection, finding someone you barely recognized anymore.

With a sigh, you changed into the spare clothes that had been left in the bathroom, when you heard a panicked shout from the bedroom.

Rushing back into the room, you saw the Mandalorian, blaster in hand, about to race out the door.

“Hey. Hey. What’s going on?”

After a second, the warrior seemed to register your presence and rushed toward you, pulling you into his arms. He buried his face into your hair, breathing you in.

You felt him relax and you tightened your grip on him, “I’m here.”

Threading your fingers through his, you led him back to the bed and laid down with him. You waited until he relaxed against you and began to run your hand over his hair until you were sure he was asleep.

The next time you woke the Mandalorian was gone.

Grabbing the blanket at the end of the bed, you wrapped it around you before walking out into the ship, following the loud sounds down the hall, finding the Mandalorian standing before a heavy bag, his back bare and covered in sweat. You weren’t sure how long he had been here.

“Hey.”

His arms faltered for a second before punching the bag once more harder, the rafters shaking. You watched as his shoulder’s dropped as he turned.

“Talk?”

Just one shake of his head was all the answer you needed.

You nodded sitting down and watched as he continued to beat the bag in front of him.

You knew that the two of you wouldn’t be able to run from your demons for much longer. But neither of you were ready to talk about it yet. And for the time being, that was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But it wasn’t enough.

The Mandalorian wanted to form a plan before running into the belly of the beast. He wasn’t even sure the child was on this planet anymore. Logically, they would have taken him and run.

But you couldn’t sit around anymore. You wanted to hit them hard and fast. If they didn’t have the child, so be it. They still deserved to die.

So later that day when the Mandalorian wasn’t paying attention, you raided his weapon cabinet and slipped out of the ship.

You knew if you had asked, he would’ve gone with you. But you didn’t want him to. This was something you had to do alone.

It was only a few minutes later when you arrived at the imperial hideout.

You kicked in the door, smiling when the troopers stood, their blaster’s drawn.

You twirled the staff in your hand waiting for the first trooper to make a move. When he did, you swung out your arm, slamming the end of the staff into the side of the trooper’s head. He gave a sickening cry as he collapsed to the ground. Stepping onto his armored chest, you propelled yourself into the air, turning to swing at the other trooper’s that had finally started their assault.

Your staff slammed into four of them before a blaster shot hit your stomach, forcing you back against a wall.

As you regained your breath, you dropped as a trooper swung at you, his blaster just missing your head. Sweeping out your leg, you knocked him on his back, before reaching for your own blaster and shooting him down.

Another blaster shot sliced past your arm, the red hot burning sending a shock through your body. Chucking the blaster aside, you gripped your staff tighter before letting out a scream and storming toward the trooper. You jumped at him, landing on his front. You twisted around his body, pulling your staff tight against his throat, under his helmet. As he struggled, you pulled another blaster from your holster, shooting another trooper in the chest.

The man you were wrapped around finally wheezed and dropped to the ground, you falling unceremoniously with him.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you turned giving a feral grin to the others that formed a semi-circle around you. Raising your arms out, you silently told them to come and get you.

And one by one they shot forward, trying to hit you, shoot you. But you took down trooper after trooper, your arms screaming as they pressed against your staff, your blaster shooting left and right.

When all of them laid at your feet, you froze.

Blood was flowing from multiple blaster shots on your body, your nose had been bashed in and it was becoming hard to breathe. But you welcomed the pain.

When a crunch sounded behind you, you turned shooting instinctively, the blaster shot deflecting off the armor of the Mandalorian.

You froze. Your blaster still aimed at him.

Your ears were buzzing. The man stopped in front of you. You knew words were flowing from his mouth, but you couldn’t hear a thing.

Cara stepped forward, her eyes were wide as she took in the massacre around you, “Did you do all of this?”

“Yes.” The Mandalorian’s voice was gruff.

He slowly reached out toward you. And when you didn’t move, he took a step closer.

He pulled you toward him and you stumbled clumsily into him. He gently pulled the blaster from your hand and when your arm raised up his breath caught in his throat when he saw the torn piece of child’s red cape tied around your wrist.

With a hand on your back, the man led you out of the imperial hideout. You were quiet, your eyes unfocused like you weren’t all there.

When the Mandalorian got you back to the ship left you alone on the bed. A few minutes later Cara walked through the door with a first aid kit. When your Mandalorian still didn’t make an appearance a few hours later you knew something was wrong.

You wanted to apologize but you couldn’t. Because you weren’t sorry.

You could feel yourself pulling away. From him. From everything. You were detached. All you could think about was things you could’ve done differently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You need to sleep.”

His deep voice echoed through the room, startling you.

The first words he had spoken to you in days. You ignored him.

You continued to pore over the documents in front of you. You had completely taken over the ship’s bedroom. He hadn’t slept here since he brought you back. So why not make good use of it. Papers were thrown everywhere, your notes pinned all over the walls. Clues on where they would take the child.

“Sleep.” He called a little louder.

You hummed in response, as you stood to pin another paper onto the wall.

“We’re gonna need help.” You mumbled absentmindedly.

“We have Cara.”

“I think we should contact Commander Trax.” You said.

The Mandalorian cleared his throat, “I thought we couldn’t trust her.”

“We can.”

“If you’re sure.”

Brushing past the warrior, you called out for Cara, following her answering call from outside the ship. As you walked down the ramp, you met her asking her to remain behind on the planet for the time being while you and the Mandalorian went to recruit your old Commander.

She nodded, and with just a gaze asked you if you would be okay being alone with him for a few days.

You threw the man, who was lurking a few feet away, a tired glance. You nodded at the woman.

But when the Mandalorian stepped forward, telling you that he was the one who was going to be staying behind, you froze.

You turned on your heel and walked up the ramp to his ship, without saying a word to him.

Cara followed after you, finding you in the cockpit.

“Ready?” She asked, cautiously.

You nodded, and took control of the ship, plugging in the coordinates.

Your mind was focused on the trip in front of you, but at the very last second, you looked out the window, seeing the Mandalorian on the ground and watched as he vanished from view.

A few hours later, you landed on the outskirts of your old base. You told Cara to remain behind, even though you expected her to follow behind you.

Without any hesitation, you walked right through the town and right onto base.

With your signature red cape sweeping behind you, the agents froze when they saw you, moving out of your way as you stalked through the base to the main control center.

You may have been excommunicated but nobody would try to stop you. They knew better.

When you reached Commander Center, you kicked in the door, yelling at the rookie at the door to scram.

Commander Trax looked up from her meeting and leveled you with a glare.

“I thought I told you never to return.”

You shrugged with an easy smile.

The Commander rose to her feet, her hand dismissing the other agents. They were hesitant to leave, but when she barked at them, they scattered.

You and the Commander leveled each other with glares. She stepped forward and held out her hand. You stepped up and took it. She pulled you, twisting you around, trying to force you to the ground. You pushed yourself against her propelling yourself backward to slam the both of you to the ground.

Agents stormed in but Cara dropped from the rafter, making quick work of them.

Commander Trax looked at her with a raised eyebrow before turning back to you.

You stood and offered your hand to her.

She brushed it off and pushed herself to her feet. Before reaching out and pulling you into a hug.

“I need your help.”

Commander Trax nodded and motioned for you to have a seat. She gazed at Cara, offering her a seat as well but the woman decided to stand with her back against the wall, her hand on her blaster.

It took no time at all to convince the Commander to help you. Just one second after you finished speaking, she called for a strike team and told you they were at your disposal for the time being. When you stood to leave and thank her, she refused to take your hand.

“You really think I’m going to miss all the fun?”

You smiled.

Moving to greet the strike team full of your old friends, you glanced back finding that Cara and the Commander were now locked in a deep staring contest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was only a few days later when you finally returned to your Mandalorian.

The Commander peered out the window, as the man walked out into the open.

“So, that’s the one.”

You scoffed.

The Commander rolled her eyes, “Don’t give me that. You gave up your whole life to go on the run with that man.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” You mumbled.

“They’re basically married.” Cara teased as she walked by the two of you.

You glared at the woman, “Cara!”

“Though they’re fighting now.” She mocked whispered to the Commander.

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your head.

The Mandalorian greeted your team and Commander before vanishing into the ship. You went to follow him but hesitated. Commander Trax stepped up and brushed past you following the Mandalorian inside.

Once you filled the strike team in on what was going on, they immediately vanished into the night to stake their claim at their new territory.

You peered around the ship, the Mandalorian, your Commander, and Cara having been absent for hours. Sighing, you slipped into the empty bedroom and settled down to get some sleep.

You only managed to get a few hours before Commander Trax broke down your door to tell you that the Mandalorian been injured during a scouting mission.

Without a moment of hesitation, you had bulldozed yourself past the Commander and into the makeshift med bay to get to the Mandalorian.

You flew through the door gasping out his name, skidding to a stop in surprise when you saw a completely healthy-looking man sitting against the wall.

“What-’

You flushed, “I-…“

Cara cleared her throat, “I think I’ll give you two some space.”

She quickly slid out of the room, but not without first winking at you.

Once she shut the door, your head dropped.

“What’s going on? Are you alright?” The Mandalorian said, his gaze roving your body as if expecting you to be hurt or bleeding.

“Do you even care?” You snapped regretfully.

The man reached up, removing his helmet, so you could see his face.

You turned, refusing to meet his eyes.

“How could you even ask me that?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” You muttered.

“You’re the one that decided to start doing things without me. You weren’t the only one that lost him. I did too.”

You winced shrinking back.

The Mandalorian sighed, “Talk to me.”

You choked back a breath, “I’ve lost every single person I’ve ever cared about. And now I lost the kid. I can’t-“

You stopped.

The Mandalorian stayed silent.

“I thought if I pretended I could do it on my own I could convince myself I didn’t need you, so when I lose you too it won’t hurt as much.”

The Mandalorian stood, pulling off his gloves. Reaching out, he cupped your face, raising your eyes to meet his gaze.

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Death would have to fight me to keep me from you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mandalorian passed you one of his blasters as you started forward, jumping over the rubble of the mansion that had once stood here. Your finger immediately moved to the trigger, ready to take down anybody that got in your way.

Shooting down stray trooper’s, you easily reached the den. You slipped inside, waving back at Commander Trax, Cara, and the strike team, silently telling them to remain behind. The Mandalorian followed close behind you, both your blasters raising.

What had once been the beautiful ballroom was a mess of rubble and bodies.

Yet there stood the one person she had been waiting for.

Mera.

She nodded when she saw you.

“I was wondering when you would come.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Where’s Moff? Too scared to face me?”

“Please, you rate below slugs to him. He sent me to take care of you.” She sighed almost bored.

You took a step forward, raising your blaster at her head.

She smiled, Stormtroopers appeared around her, their blaster’s raised toward you.

Part of your team dropped from their perches, their own weapons aimed at the troopers.

You gritted your teeth, “I gutted a dozen of you just a few days ago. We’ll see how this team stacks up.”

You took another step forward. And that’s when you saw her. The young girl that worked for Mera. She was pressed back against the wall, her eyes wide with terror.

You motioned behind you for your team to lower their weapons.

Explosions echoed outside and you could see the concern on Mera’s face as it grew closer.

“You’ve lost. My team is destroying the rest of your hideout. Give in now and tell me where the child is.”

You took another step forward and Mera’s hand shot out.

You stopped. The breath from your throat was cut off instantly and you dropped your blaster, as your hands tore at the invisible force around your throat.

The Mandalorian stormed up, his blaster raised toward the woman.

“Stop.” He barked.

Mera grinned sinisterly. The force tightened painfully around your neck before she let go with a chuckle.

“You never did seem to like when I tortured others.” Her hand raised and the Mandalorian’s body flew toward her, placing him on his knees in front of her. Her hand reached down stroking the metal of his helmet.

“Let’s see how you do with the one you love.”

Her fist tightened and the warrior before you collapsed to the ground. You could hear him struggling to breathe and you shot forward but stopped abruptly a force holding you back.

As you fought against the invisible force, she stepped up closer to you and you could feel the familiar pressure begin to build in your head.

“It was always entertaining trying to read your thoughts. Though most of them were about this pathetic warrior here. What happens when I try to drag them out?”

You collapsed to the ground, the pain in your head growing tenfold. You reached out toward the struggling Mandalorian who was too far from you, wishing you could reach him.

There was nothing you could do. You tried to fight back. You pushed yourself, trying to raise to your feet. But then the young servant girl stepped forward, startling her master.

“Get back you little shit.”

The girl shook her head and stepped in front of you, between you and Mera.

“You have been a pain in my ass since I bought you. Guess I’ll need someone new now.”

She released her hold on the Mandalorian, her hand instead raising toward the young girl. But it froze midair.

“What?” She whispered in horror.

Her arm raised against her own will and she glanced from it to the girl in front of her.

“Impossible. Troopers!” She screamed.

The troopers marched forward, their blasters raised at the young girl in front of them. You watched in horror as they aimed at her.

But then the young girl opened her mouth and screamed. Her hands flew out in front of her, a burst of energy shooting out hitting the Stormtroopers and Mera. Their bodies flew back soaring through the air, slamming into the wall behind them and collapsing onto the stone ground.

The pain in your head instantly vanished and you frantically crawled over to the girl who was now sprawled on the ground breathing unsteadily.

She weakly lifted her arms, signing something.

A deep voice echoed from behind her, “She wants to know if she’s dead.”

You looked up meeting the Mandalorian’s mask. Pushing yourself to your feet, you stumbled over to the woman who was lying on the ground. Reaching down, you felt for her pulse.

You turned toward the girl, “She’s dead.”

Her brows furrowed and you just nodded as realization dawned on her face.

“She can’t hurt you anymore. We need to go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you received a message from the Governor, you knew the real fight was about to begin. You passed the comlink to the Mandalorian as you pulled weapons from the wall.

“You’re not going to meet him.”

“Yes, I am. This has to end. He’s killed half our team. I’ve killed half of his troopers. This can’t continue.”

He grunted, “He wants the girl.”

“And he’s not going to get her.”

“I’m coming with you.”

He followed closely behind you watching as your red cape shone like blood under the light of the moon.

“Where are we?” He asked.

“A hotel on the outskirts of the city. He won’t be here for another few hours. We have time to come up with a plan.”

You wander aimlessly around the room, refusing to look at him.

“So, what happens now? He wants to trade the child for the girl. We aren’t-”

“Of course not.” You scoffed, cutting him off. “I lived with him for over a month. I dealt with him every day. Listened as he spread lies and hatred and poison. Watched as he had children beaten, tortured, and killed. I know how he works.”

“That’s what this is about.” The man realized.

“What?”

“You see yourself in her.”

Your head snapped toward him, “What?”

“You were taken at a young age. You told me. You were sold and owned like a slave.”

“No. I was a slave.” You finally looked up, “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

His eyes flashed, “You’re the same person you’ve always been.”

You laughed derisively, “No, I’m not. I saw horrible things when I was with the Governor. And I did nothing. I’m no better than them.”

“You’re nothing like them.”

“You’re lying.” Your voice wavered.

With a smile, he leaned down pressing a light kiss to your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, “You decided not to turn in the Mandalorian you hunted down. You protected an innocent child you didn’t know. You gave the only home you ever had to a family in need. You’re nothing like them. Do you see the difference?”

You nodded.

The two of you sat in silence for the next hour. And then it was time. The Mandalorian pressed one more kiss to your lips before he moved to his position on the roof. The door creaked open just an hour later.

And in walked the Imperial doctor from all those months ago. The man who had told you to protect the child. The man who had stood by while the Client beat you senseless for days.

“What are you-” You took a step back, your body hitting something hard behind you. An arm wrapped around you and you felt a prick in your neck. And everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke you were lying in a bright white room.

Standing you brushed your hands over the white Imperial clothes that clothed your body. Swallowing hard, you walked barefoot across the floor toward the door. Reaching down for the handle, you hesitated before pushing it, sighing in relief when it gave way under your hand.

Peering down the hall, you slipped out of your room and began the trek down the long white hallway. There were no doors. No people. No exit. You followed the hall for what felt like hours before a door finally came into sight.

When you opened it, there stood the Imperial doctor, the child in his arms.

“Welcome to our cloning farm.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #fight so dirty #fight so dirty ff #mando #dyn jarren #dyn jarren x reader #star wars #Star Wars fanfiction #ff #my fanfic #Star Wars ff #mando ff

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

Dark Fox (3/7)

Heyyyy people. I’m finally back with part 3 for y’all. A bit of action, some more mystery ;) ;) Anyway, enjoy! And if you do like it, please don’t hesitate to comment your thoughts and reactions. It’s really encouraging to see support!

Previous - Next

Pairing: Jason Todd x League!reader

Word count: 4307

Warnings: same as announced in part 1

"We got him, boss"

Jason sighed, knowing he'd have to kill his way out of this one. That meant he'd use his killing allowed wildcard for the rest of the mission and he wasn't particularly thrilled about it. He would already get the lecture about exposing they were on the case, and Batman wouldn't let him hear the end of it.

"Guys, guys" He tried to buy himself some time to come up with an execution plan. "We're all friends here, aren't we?"

"Shut up" One more gun was pointed at him, this time in his face.

"Come on man, I'm just a guy who--"

The lights went off. Jason didn't know how, because he hadn't been the one to cut the power, but he certainly didn't waste the small window of opportunity to get out of the shooting line and disarm the man in front of him. He shot him, then the man behind him who had held him at gunpoint by the neck. He could hear running and screaming, orders being barked and the platoon around him moving. He turned around, ready to shoot whoever was there, but he found… Nothing. He adjusted his night vision lenses and only saw three more bodies around.

Each ones with a black arrow stuck in their chest.

Your feet were light when you landed behind him, like a shadow forming out of the darkness in the red emergency light glow. But he had heard you, his hearing was fine enough to detect the subtlest movement. From behind you could see the reflection of his red helmet, a new one that wasn't cracked. He turned slowly to come face to face with you.

"You couldn't stay away for too long, could you?"

You gave your answer by shooting an arrow at the provenance of yet another infrared line pointed at him, not looking away the whole time. But you knew you had hit your target, because you heard a body fall down the rail and onto the first floor.

"We have three squads like this one headed this way" You informed him. "And I'd rather not waste any more arrows"

“Then let’s blow this popsicle stand”

“This way”

You ran through the first doorway to your left, knowing you would have an escape route there. You had learned the blueprint by heart, so you went toward where there were the most exit options. But soon enough, the motion sensor alerts your had configured on your watch vibrated, letting you know the squads were closing in. You stopped at the junction of three hallways, evaluating the situation. Jason practically bumped into you, cursing under his breath.

“Why are you stopping here?” He asked, looking in between the three corridors while you glanced up for a second. Bingo.

“They’re too close, it’ll be easier to get out here”

“Easier--” He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What the fuck-”

He shut up at the glare you sent him, before going back to your plan. You loaded an explosive in your next arrow and shot the door, knowing it would buy you a few minutes by burning the digital pad. You then stepped in front of Jason and loaded a gas one and waited for the footsteps to arrive, bow drawn and aim locked.

“Hold your fire ready” You instructed, backing up so your back almost touched him. Your eyes never left your target, and soon enough, shadows began to grow in the red lights. His gun aimed over your shoulder. “And activate your smoke vision. When they go blind, cover me”

“You’re insane”

You didn’t have to respond in any other way than an eye roll when the squad rounded the corner. You shot in the crowd, the man fell down and a thick gas was released. You shot the same type of arrow on the other open hallway as you began to hear gunshots on the door you had shut down earlier. Shouts and cough echoed, then a rush to put on gas mask and find a moving target in the smoke.

Jason began shooting, angling his gun with precision. You did not see what he was shooting, since you didn’t have smoke goggles on. Instead, you aimed your next arrow at the glass ceiling and shot.

“Fuck!” Jason yelled.

“Stop whining” You bit back as he kept shooting around you. You tied the hook on your belt to an arrow and nocked it, aiming for the wooden structure above you. You shot right through it, then passed the wire through Jason’s belt to clip it on yours. You gave the line a tug with your bow, and it began pulling you up. You wrapped your legs around Jason and under his arms, bringing him up with you. He let out a yelp of surprise, followed by a curse, but you manage to finesse your exit before the smoke cleared.

He grabbed the ledge of the wood a second after you did, and you pulled yourself up on the beam. You ran across it, away from the bullets and jumped a few buildings away, far enough so they couldn’t see you anymore. You made sure nobody had followed you before removing your mask. Jason did the same, hair sticking everywhere. The wind from the rooftop didn’t make it any better, but he didn’t seem to care. He only looked at you, confused as to what on Earth you could possibly be doing in Gotham alone, and as to how you found him just at the right moment, and probably as to what the hell had just went down. That had been your most dramatic exit so far. But it was the least important question of his that needed answering.

“Why are you here?” He asked, figuring out you wouldn’t speak first. You never spoke first, and that was one of the mysteries about you he had never been able to figure out.

“I need your help”

His eyes widened at your confession. You reached in your jacket and handed him the file, which he silently skimmed through, brows furrowed in concentration. Then, his features morphed into realization. You had been there at the same time as him because you had been sent on the same case he was working on. He should have expecting it, given your connection to the matter, but somehow it had never crossed his mind that you could show up. The only coincidence in this was that he had been investigating this project at the same time and place as you.

“Well, as it turns out” He began, handing you back the file. “I’m working on the same case, and my team could use your help too”

You raised an eyebrow.

“They’re not my team per say” He clarified. “We’re just coming together for the sole purpose of bringing this bio-weapon down”

“How well do you know them?” You asked carefully. “And they you?”

“More than I would care to admit” He sighed. “... Everybody there is keeping secrets. Yours will be fine”

You took a moment to think his offer through. You didn’t trust that said team, but at the same time, you needed them. After what went down tonight, there was no way you could handle it alone, or even only with Jason. And if there was one person that would be willing to cover for you, it was him. It was your opportunity to go through with your plan. You looked up again and gave him a firm nod.

He combed his hair with his hand and took a deep breath. “They seemed to have found a way to stabilize the weapon and make it work” He said, looking at the city lights on the horizon. It was a surprisingly clear night for Gotham. “They worked quicker than we had anticipated”

You had expected that turnout, since William stamm was the scientist recruited to work on the project. A brilliant mind, but his insanity cost him a nobel prize or two. He would always create monstrosities that impressed, but most of all scared people. No wonder he had been the one to work for Luthor.

“We should head back and inform the team of the new development…” He trailed off, sending you a glance. “All of them”

“Then let’s go”

---

“Woah what the fuck”

You easily caught mid-air the shuriken thrown your way, barely blinking at the action and the rather loud exclamation. The two men in front of you were on the defensive, even after Jason made a show of sighing and throwing his arms up in annoyance. Their eyes were on you, and you held the staring contest.

“Can everybody please calm the fuck down?” Jason came to stand in the way. “Tim, put that down, jesus”

Tim reluctantly put down his shurikens. “Who’s that?”

“And why is she wearing the league suit?” The other man said, still eyeing you like you’d attack them at any second. You recognized this one, Dick Grayson.

“It’s help” He replied vaguely. “And it’s--”

“Because I’m from the league” You replied for yourself, taking a step forward. You pushed the shuriken back on the table toward them. “But I’m not after any of you”

“Well that’s good to know” Tim snorted before glancing at Jason. “You still did blow our cover, Jaybird”

“Anyone she can tell either already knows or don’t give a shit about your stupid alter egos” Jason rolled his eyes once more.

“Still!”

“I called her here to help, okay?” He lied smoothly. You didn’t react, but you were glad he did cover for you. “Would you just trust me one second?”

“That would be easier if you had asked before bringing a stranger here”

It wasn’t easy to surprise you, but the fourth person joining the conversation did. You didn’t hear him come at all, and even now that you were aware of his presence, you could barely hear his footsteps. You turned your head to the side to take a look at him; he was tall and built for combat, like everyone else in the room. But his presence occupied a lot more space, and you deducted he was the leader of this little team.

After all, you doubted Bruce Wayne would do well as second.

“That stranger is the reason Red Hood got out without revealing you all were involved, and with a peek at their tech” Jason argued. “Which is now very much functional and probably ready to go”

“What?” Dick rejoined the conversation. “That’s not possible”

“It is” You replied. “Stamm is known to work fast and relentlessly until he succeeds. And as your surely know it, he’s got an impressive record of building up bioengineering monsters without a care on how it’s used. I don’t have trouble believing he worked ahead of schedule”

All eyes were on you now.

“You know him?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“I know of him” You nodded slightly, crossing your arms in front of you. “He wasn’t there at the lab earlier, which means he’s either already long gone, or under Luthor’s protection. He won’t risk him exposing a failsafe, that is most certain”

“How much do you know about this bio weapon?” He asked, and you could not read the intent of his question.

“Close to nothing” You admitted. “I suppose you’re not that much more ahead either”

Jason snorted, while Bruce’s eyes narrowed. Then, he relaxed.

“Well, you did do us a solid by bailing out Jason” He said, a half smile appearing on his face. “I’d be glad to have you and your skills with us on this one”

Tim choked on his coffee and Dick’s eyes went wide. You ignored their reactions, not looking away from Bruce. He offered you his hand, and after a quick glance down, you took it and shook it. There was nothing friendly about the way you felt his muscles tense, it rather was a warning. A warning that although he agreed to work with you, he did not trust you and would take you down if necessary. The message was loud and clear.

“I am aware of the way of the League, so I must ask” He began when your hand dropped to your side again. “Have you found anywhere to stay in Gotham yet?”

“This city has no shortage of empty warehouses” You answered indirectly, and he hummed. You still weren’t sure of his intent, and you would rather not him find out of some of your lairs.

“Well, there are also no shortage of empty rooms here” He countered, and it was your turn to narrow your eyes. “You’d be welcome to stay here. It would facilitate relaying information, and since you already know where we operate…”

“Bruce” Dick warned.

“What do you say?”

You looked at Jason beside you. You didn’t trust Bruce, mostly because of his obvious wariness towards you. He was probably offering that to keep an eye on you, or to have better control over you. But Jason gave you an affirmative nod, and him, you trusted. So you turned your attention back to Bruce and agreed to his proposition.

“Thank you”

“We can take care of your things tomorrow, if you have any more than what you have one” He pointed out, knowing you didn’t have any valuable left behind. And he was right. “In the meanwhile, there are some clothes here you can change into. They should fit”

“Come on, you can’t let her wear Steph’s clothes?” Tim whined.

“Shut up Tim” Jason groaned, throwing his head back. “She doesn’t even know it’s still there”

“You shut up--”

“Alright!” He sighed, knowing Tim would never let it go. “We’ll go grab the stuff now, we’ll talk about the plan tomorrow”

“You’ll show her an empty room when you come back?” Bruce asked Jason, and the younger man nodded. “See you tomorrow, then”

“Yeah whatever”

-----

“That’s it”

You halted your steps and turned to face Jason, who was panting and affirmatively mad. Heavy snow was resting on his shoulders and head, even on his long eyelashes. His cheeks were red from the cold, making the blue of his eyes pop out. He was glaring at you, but that wasn’t new.

“You’re doing this on purpose. There is no point in that but to piss me the fuck out” He spat. “I bet you’re liking this uh?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you done?” You asked, your neutral expression ever present on your face. “Nightfall comes soon, and we still have some distance to go”

WInter had come, and you thought it was time to leave the cabin for a while to train in less than ideal conditions. You had decided to trek up the mountain to set camp on higher grounds, where the snow and wind would be a good environment to build up endurance to the elements. But as usual, Jason disagreed.

He threw his backpack on the ground, still panting. “No, I’m not walking another step. Let’s set camp here”

“This blizzard is coming down strong, and by morning there will be at least a meter of snow more” You informed him. “So we’d be buried alive. So if you want to stop here, be my guest”

You gave him a quick smile and resumed your ascension. You heard him curse under his breath, put his backpack on again and hurry after you. He did not comment for the rest of the journey, not even when you had to climb the iced wall of rocks or take an almost inhumane leap across a fissure on the ground. He could barely stand when you finally reached the cave on the non-exposed side of the mountain, his legs aching and his hands bloody under his gloves. You let him sit down as you prepared the fire and skinned one of the rabbits you had hunted for the trip, knowing he would have to rest for the next part of the training. You remembered too well doing the same thing, biting back your pain as not to show it.

You gave him his food as well as his personal space for a while, before you went to him again. You gestured for him to follow you, and with a groan, he stood up and limped after you. It became warmer and warmer the further you went, and down a small slope laid a round pool of steaming blue water, sculpted in the rocks by time and hydro pressure.

“Is this a hot spring?” Jason muttered in almost awe and you nodded.

“It’ll be good for your muscles to rest” You replied. “It’ll also warm you. Next time, don’t forget your gloves”

“It would be easier if I had some” He snarked back with a scoff, but you had already walked away.

You went back to the fire and set a pot of tea, knowing you’d take it alone that night. It was strange, not to have him around. For months you had gotten used to his presence, usually silent but there nevertheless. You liked to think as tea time as neutral ground, where whatever happened during training was put aside for a quarter of hour to decompress in peace. It made you realized you might have felt bad for the blisters on his palms and the almost frost bites he had gotten. But you were glad to see his progress with how he handled it, that being with a minimum of curses and complaining. A few weeks ago only he would have surely taken your head off for that. Granted, this little trip was far from over and there was still time for him to do so, but the worst was behind you.

You went out and cleaned the pot with snow, and put it in a corner with the rest of your stuff. You added some wood to the fire to keep it going and took off your jacket, hood and boots to have them dry nearby. You did the same with your pants and other layers, until all was left was your thermal protection. You went straight in the direction of the hot spring and put your remaining clothes on a rock, before you walked in the water.

Jason’s eyes went wide.

“What are you doing?”

You didn’t answer straight away, you only tilted your head slightly to the side. Was he… Uncomfortable? Unsettled? Nervous, even?

“Enjoying the hot spring”

“I-- I’m already here” He argued, but he didn’t seem very confident in it. “Naked. And so are you”

“... And?” You raised an eyebrow, relaxing in the hot water. He went to say something else, but he closed his mouth and sank a bit more in the water. You enjoyed the sound of the cave in silence, the echo of the water reflecting on the rock walls, the creaking and groaning of the ice and snow outside, not oblivious to Jason’s wary eyes on you. It was like he was expecting you to pull a sword out of thin air and attack him.

“It’s just I’ve never seen you wear any less than three layers of clothing, that’s all” He grumbled under his breath. “It’s weird. You seem smaller”

It was your turn to widen your eyes, slowly.

“Smaller?” You repeated. He mumbled a whatever, and it was the end of this conversation. Jason seemed to untense gradually in his corner, getting to the idea of you there as well.

You could see the scars and bruises on his upper body. The gash in his shoulder from your sword had healed nicely, leaving a lightly scabbed red mark. There were a few silver marks around as well, and faded bruises on his chest from various impacts. He was tough, he would have had the potential to get in the league if it hadn’t been for his tendency to disobey any and every order given to him. But he had a huge potential nevertheless, and the more you worked with him, the more you could see what Talia saw in him.

“I hate the cold” You admitted after taking a deep breath. His eyes snapped up to you in confusion, while yours trailed away on the rocks around you. “I hate the way it seeps through everything. It makes my bones ache”

“A weakness, I’ll be damned” He whistled lowly. “Then why are you doing this, if you hate it so much?”

You met his eyes. “Once you let your limits dictate the path you take, you’ve taken the first step to losing any sense of control on yourself”

“Is this another lesson on self control?” He tested.

“No” You shook your head. “I just wanted to let you know I’m not doing this to torture you, but because I know you’ll gain valuable skills from training in extreme conditions, as I did before you”

-----

Nobody was around when you came back from the warehouse. All the lights were turned off, and all that could be heard was the creaking of the wood foundations of the manor. You followed Jason down the hallway and into an almost empty room, beside from the furniture. He invited you to walk in first, and gently closed the door behind him. He turned on the light and waited by the door.

“So, where’s the camera?” You asked, looking around for it. Your eyes set on Jason, who had an eyebrow raised. “Keep your enemies closer, right?”

“There’s no camera in bedrooms” He replied with a small smile. “That’s rule number one. But if you gotta know, there’s one right outside your door that will monitor your every in and out. You can’t escape this one, but you’re welcome to try anyway”

You snorted.

“He’ll be watching you closely for the next days” He hummed. “He’ll be weird about it and not subtle at all. I guess you’re aware of his relation to the league”

“Hard not to” You said, throwing your bag on the floor. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for me to stay here? I’m not sure your brothers are very happy about it either”

“And you care since when?” He mused.

“I don’t” You took a step toward him, looking at him pointedly. “Just don’t blame me for defending myself if they jump me”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be on the sidelines filming it”

You rolled your eyes, but the hint of a playful smile stretched on your lips. However, it disappeared when you remembered the purpose of you being there in the first place. Jason noticed the shadow passing on your face, and leaned on the door behind him. He waited for you to speak, even when you made your way to the window, your back to him.

“Confrontation will be unavoidable” You sighed, looking outside into the night. “What if I give in?”

“You won’t”

He said it with such certainty it made you turn your head to glance at him. How could he be so sure?

“I’ve never met anyone with as much self control as you” He explained like he had read the question on your face. “It’s fucking annoying. But you won’t be the one who flinch first, trust me. You’re too stubborn for that”

“Thanks, I guess” You mumbled, facing the window again. “But I don’t know how I will react when it goes down. My mother warned me…”

“When you were eight” He pointed out. “You’ve trained your body and your mind for this moment for years. I wouldn’t be so quick to discredit your ability to handle this with a certain detachment”

“Detachment?”

“Mmmm” He hummed, sporting that expression of his he knew had always gotten on your nerves as he stalked toward you. “You’re pretty stone cold”

“I will beat your ass” You stood your ground, but he only grinned. Maybe because it came out much weaker than you had intended to.

“See? You’re proving my point right now” He stopped right on front of you. “Stone. Cold”

You held his stare, his vibrant blue eyes as expressive as always. He was poking at you, poking at your reaction to him. You were always so composed around anyone else, but he had sneaked inside your walls a long time ago. You didn’t have to keep your guards up around him, but that would be a problem now. You couldn’t let it come in between you and your goal again, not after last time. You’d have to be careful not to let your emotions and feeling for him in again.

You took a step back, and he hid the hurt well on his face. After all, you did come back to him, and he probably thought it meant you had changed your mind. But while you welcomed his presence at your side on the field, you wouldn’t let it go further. And he’d have to understand that.

You’d have to get it on your head as well, it seemed.

“Thank you, Jason. For helping me” You muttered.

“You’ve done the same for me” He replied with fondness, despite his disappointment. “Goodnight”

You nodded, watching him walk back to the door. Halfway through the threshold, however, you called to him.

“Wait”

He paused in the door frame, looking back at you.

“Will you stay in the mansion too?”

His eyebrows raised in surprise for a second as your words registered, but a small smile appeared on his lips as he realized what you were asking. You didn’t trust his family, and with him there, you’d have an excuse not to interact directly with them. He wasn’t supposed to stay, but your unspoken request made him think about it again. He wouldn’t oppose to spending more time with you, and frankly, he missed your daily training.

“Three doors down to your right” He said, before gently closing the door behind you.

160 notes · View notes

heartofsnark · 3 years

Text

This Is Love (Chapter Nine): That Melts To A Shriek

Notes: Hello~, school has been stressful af, but luckily(?) for y’all I sometimes write to ignore my feelings/schoolwork. So, chapters have been getting done anyway.

Word Count: 11596

Chapter Warnings: Implications of abuse, not sure the best way to word this; acts of violence/property damage done against cops for being cops but very nearly hurt/killed a civilian.

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here

Taglist (trying this out, these are folks who interacted with the post over on my personal or contacted me privately, if you’d like to be added just message me): @enchantedbythebidders, @tender-wounds, @satanscaffeinatedfriend

Dahlia skids her bike to a stop in the diner parking lot; Cassie is sitting in the dirt just outside the building with her knees pulled up to her chest. She parks and makes a beeline to the girl, as she pokes her head up, looking at the deputy through a curtain of dark curly hair. Her cheek is red, just beginning to bruise, the imprint of a hand visible in the moonlight.

“Cassie,” Dahlia speaks her name delicately, seeing the tears tracking down the girl’s face. And she sinks down next to her and hugs her. Cassie hugs her back and sobs into Dahlia’s shoulder; trying to talk but everything muffles through chokes of crying.

Eventually, Cassie’s tears slow and her sobs lessens, fading into soft hiccups as she clings to Dahlia.

“I know it’s hard, but can you tell me what happened?” Dahlia asks once the young woman has calmed.

“My mom,” she wipes away her tears as she breaks their embrace, “I, I guess, I crossed a line. She kicked me out.”

“She hurts you?”

“She’s intense….I guess.”

“She’s put her hands on you.”

“Yeah.”

“A lot?”

“Yeah…” Dahlia wipes away the fresh tears that fall from the girl’s eyes, heart breaking for her.

“You didn’t cross any line, you know that, right? Nothing you’ve done makes it okay.”

“I just wanted to keep one paycheck, one, that didn’t have to go towards her bills or her clothes, or her whatever. Just one I could keep for myself and it was too much to ask and now…,” she searches for her next words, “I don’t know where to go…”

There’s no homeless shelters in Hope County, no emergency housing for people struggling, the exact reason so many of the drifters in the area sleep in abandoned train cars. It’s ridiculous, no rehabs despite the county having a drug problem and no shelter for people who need it. How the fuck are people supposed to get through?

“You can stay with me,” Dahlia offers, she sleeps on the couch anyway, no reason not to offer her bed to someone in need.

“No, I, I couldn’t. I bothered you enough, I-“

“Nonsense, we need to get you somewhere safe and I can’t think of anywhere safer, right now. Unless you wanna go out of county.”

“No, no, god no, I don’t wanna leave Hope…”

“I ain’t got much, but I got room for you.”

“Thanks…”

“You got anything with you?” Dahlia asks, when she notices all Cassie has are the clothes on her back, a thin jacket thrown over her waitress uniform.

“No…couldn’t grab anything…”

“Okay, then, we’ll make do tonight and tomorrow, I’ll see about getting your clothes back. That alright with you?”

“Yeah…just don’t…”

“I won’t do anything crazy, promise.”

“Okay…”

“Here you,” Dahlia says, handing over her motorcycle helmet to Cassie. She takes it and Dahlia knows Cassie is taller, a little older too, but in this moment, she seems so small and young, almost like a child.

Once the helmet is secure, Dahlia gets on her bike, allowing Cassie to climb on the back of it, instructing the girl to hold on as tightly as she can. Thin arms wrapping tight enough to dig into Dahlia’ s skin. The night air is cold, Cassie’s body all that much warmer in comparison as it presses in against and around the deputy.

There are a few eyes watching the girls as they ride into the trailer park, Dahlia coming to a stop by her porch. She’s gentle as she helps Cassie off the motorcycle, taking the helmet from her, the taller girl’s dark eyes dart around nervously, straying near where a Moonflower resident is glaring at the pair. Dahlia rubs a hand through the back of Cassie’s hair, ruffling the dark curls, mimicking Sheriff Whitehorse and his method of calming her. If it works for her, maybe it can help Cassie.

“Don’t worry about them, go on inside, I’m gonna lock up my bike okay.”

Cassie nods her head and walks off into the trailer. Dahlia catches eyes with the man who was glaring and she glares right back, flipping him off before locking up her bike. She could give a damn less what anyone does to her, but she’s not going to let them give Cassie hell. The girl has been through enough.

The older girl is on the couch when Dahlia walks back into the trailer, Cassie’s eyes looking over everything.

“Hey, you, uh, want anything to drink or eat? I don’t know how to make coffee, but there’s coke, water, uhhh…?” Dahlia pauses, arm still gestured outward as she tries to think of what else she can offer.

“Actually, I just wanna grab a shower and sleep, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, I’ll go grab some clothes you can sleep in, the bathroom is just right here,” Dahlia tells her, tapping a hand to the bathroom door.

“Thanks.”

Dahlia scurries off to rummage through her clothes, finding warm oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants, finding the warmest but least…Dahlia’s aesthetic to offer Cassie. She knocks on the bathroom door, giving Cassie a warning before she opens the door and quickly drops the change of clothes in the room before scurrying off. Trying to be welcoming, homely, nice, she doesn’t even know; she tries to get some food together. Store bought cookies and instant bag mix cocoa with hot water. It’s bad and shoddy, but she doesn’t have much to offer in the way of hospitality. This entire night has been a whiplash for her and she can’t even imagine what it must be doing to Cassie, she doubts shitty hot chocolate or mass produced cookies can fix it, but it’s something.

A few moments pass, Dahlia cramming cookies in her mouth as she waits, and finally Cassie leaves the shower. Despite being taller than the deputy, the baggy black clothes look big on her, the skulls along the sleeves don’t suit the woman much either.

“Thanks for the clothes.”

“No problem, uh, sorry they’re…so, me, I guess?”

Cassie laughs and a bubble of tension bursts inside of Dahlia, her shoulders finally able to relax as she smiles back. It no longer feels like walking on eggshells around a scared animal, Cassie at once seems more comfortable and happy even if only for a moment.

“It’s okay,” Cassie tells her after a moment, “seriously, I just appreciate, all of this. Don’t worry so much.”

“Hey, I’m happy to help, uh, help yourself to anything I shitty whipped together and oh I know. I need to show you where you can sleep,” the deputy fumbles about and then walks down to the bedroom, opening the door, “I know it ain’t much, but hey, bed’s a bed, right?”

“You have a second bedroom?”

“Huh, oh nah, I sleep on the couch.”

“You don’t have too, I don’t expect you to give up your bed for me, I-“

“No, no,” Dahlia gently touches Cassie’s shoulder before she can get too worked up, “I just do that, nothing to do with you.”

“Oh….that’s…weird.”

“I appreciate your honesty…I think?” Dahlia makes a huffy laugh, unable to hold down the corners of her mouth, the little insult? Dig? Whatever, someone might call it has brought a bit more levity to this and fuck knows the situation needs it.

There’s not much conversation for the rest of the night; Cassie visibly exhausted, only grabbing a cookie before excusing herself to sleep for the night. Dahlia eventually falling asleep on her couch later that night.

It’s back to work the next day, Dahlia planning on making a visit to Cassie’s mom during a quiet moment, claiming it as a lunch hour. She has no intention of using force or being aggressive, but she knows her uniform could add some….incentive for someone to be more helpful than harmful towards her.

Maybe it’s that, knowing she’ll want the full effect of it, or maybe it’s because she missed working, but she wears her uniform the proper way and with a bit more pride than she did before. She says goodbye to Cassie, the words clumsy and stumbling from her lips, as she tries to grow more comfortable with someone else in her home.

The morning hours pass by without much of note, harassing Pratt whenever the time presents itself and searching for affordable housing or shelters, or whatever the hell is available for Cassie. And she comes to the same conclusion she had when searching for her own housing ; The Moonflower is the absolute most dirt cheap.

A buzz and crackle over the radio, dispatch starting to break through.

“Boshaw’s parked out in Falls End at his bullshit again.” Dispatch doesn’t even pretend to have decorum and Dahlia knows there’s more than one Boshaw, the owners of the Moonflower being Boshaw’s themselves, but given his history and the tone she immediately thinks of Sharky.

“Oh god, really, can no one else go?” Pratt asks, looking like he wants to jump into traffic more than deal with this.

“Nope, everyone else passed the buck, so just go tell him to scram.”

“Fine, fine, fine.”

“It that Sharky guy?” Dahlia asks once Pratt starts to drive.

“Un-fucking-fortunately, pain in my goddamn ass.”

“He stealing again or…?”

“Hmm,” there’s a sudden glint in Pratt’s eyes, a smirk on his face and Dahlia already regrets coming into work, “actually, this seems like a good welcome back for you, Rookie.”

“I’m gonna want to strangle you after this, aren’t I?”

“Definitely.”

She groans as the police cruiser makes it’s way through Falls End, ultimately coming to a stop in a store parking lot, a few other cars are around but it’s mostly deserted. Pratt points out a dark green jeep within the lot.

“That’s Boshaw’s truck, go knock on the window and tell him to scram.”

“Jeep…”

“What?”

“You called it a truck, that’s not a truck, that’s a jeep.”

“Does it fucking matter?”

“Not really, but it bugged me, and I don’t know why.”

“Go knock on the fucking window.”

“What’s he even doing? Drugs? Or?”

“Go knock and find out.”

“I swear to god,” Dahlia grumbles and finally opens the cruiser door, she has no idea what the fuck she’s walking into.

She’s able to see Boshaw through the driver side window of his jeep, eye closed and head leaned back. Dahlia speeds up, she’s heard of residents overdosing in their cars, he never struck her as a hard drug user but one can never really tell. Dahlia raises her fist to knock on the window and then she sees it. Boshaw’s hand rubbing up and down the length of his dick. This is her life.

“What the fuck!” She yells out and closes her eyes, because she does not need the image of his dick burned into her brain, she’s still dealing with the image of John fucking Holly rattling around in there. What is wrong with people?

“Shit,” she hears him curse, a shuffling of something, a window being rolled down, “what the hell-“

“Get the fuck out of here or I’m charging you public indecency, right fucking now, christ!”

She waits until she hears an engine starting up and then makes a beeline back to the cruiser, not wanting to even chance seeing that weirdo’s dick again. Dahlia stomps her way back to the patrol car, Pratt’s laughing hitting her as soon as she opens the door. She kicks into the car, not hard, just a quick jab of her boot into his arm before she pulls back.

“What the actual fuck, Pratt!?”

“What, get an eyeful?”

“What the actual fuck, does he just do…that!?” She’s cringing as she climbs into the passenger side seat.

“Yeah, he just, is like that if he isn’t jerking off in public, he’s setting something on fire. Or both.”

“Dear lord, what is wrong with people? What’s wrong with you doing that to me, asshole!?”

“Ah, don’t get your panties in a twist, I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Save your apology food for tonight, I got something to take care of during lunch.”

“So, you’re abandoning work?”

“For an hour max and you can call me if anything comes up.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just giving you shit, it’s fine.”

She rolls her eyes as they go back to the station, just a short drive away in the small town. The young deputy waves off her patrol partner as she climbs onto her bike, making sure her ringer is turned on this time, just in case something does manage to come up. Cassie gave her the address this morning and she quickly finds the little house surrounded by woods, as so many of the houses in Hope County are.

Dahlia lets out a breath before knocking her knuckles against the door, firm and heavy despite the knot twisting her insides. After a few moments pass and then finally the door opens; an older woman staring back at Dahlia. The resemblance between her and Cassie is strong; the same pitch black hair and dark eyes, just to an older face.

“Oh god, she didn’t drag you all into this did she?” Her words drip with condescension and venom and a muscle in Dahlia’s cheek twitches, her jaw tight.

“I’m sorry to bother you ma’am, but I was hoping to collect Cassie’s clothes and personal items.”

“Pff, what’d she tell you, some sob story, I’m sure.”

“This isn’t a criminal matter,” yet, Dahlia would like to add, but decorum or something, “if that’s what you’re concerned about and I don’t have a warrant either, for full disclosure. I’m just kindly asking to get her things, I can collect them myself or you can hand them to me if you’d rather I not enter the home, whatever you like.”

“You can come on in, I don’t have anything to hide,” Cassie’s mother lets her in.

“Thank you so much, where is her room, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Right this way, I swear she’s so fucking dramatic.” Her mother bitches and complains, taking Dahlia there and showing her an open duffle bag that she can put clothes in.

“I just know she asked me to get her things.”

“I’m so sorry she dragged you into this deputy, I’m sure you have better things to do.” Her mother talks as Dahlia tries to gather as much as she can into the bag, not only clothes but things that could be important, books and a laptop.

“I’m always happy to help out where I can, thank you so much for your time and patience, ma’am.”

A hand catches Dahlia’s bicep, Cassie’s mom stopping her. She turns to look, not sure what exactly is going on now.

“So, where is she staying?”

“I don’t know ma’am, I was only asked to bring her things to the police station, but I assure you she’s in a safe place. No worries. Have a lovely day.”

Dahlia pulls away from the woman’s grip and leaves the house, she keeps an eye over her shoulder as she leaves, insuring that the mother isn’t following her. Just in case she takes a few odd turns to make sure and then finally makes her way back to the Moonflower.

She’s compelled to knock on her own trailer door, not sure what Cassie might be doing with her alone time. Cassie’s dark eyes peek through the window and Dahlia waves, before the door opens. The girl’s head tilted to the side slightly, eyebrow raised.

“Did you forget your key?”

“No, I uh, just wanted you to know I was here, I guess.”

“Okay, uh, you really act like a guest in your own house, don’t you?” Cassie points out as Dahlia walks into the trailer.

“Ehhh, like ya know,” she makes a vague noncommittal wiggly gesture with her shoulders, “anyway, I got your clothes. No trouble, no issues, check through and make sure I grabbed everything.”

“Thanks, really, you have no idea how much this means to me,” Cassie gushes as she looks through it.

“It’s not problem at all, there is one thing I wanna talk to you about.”

“What’s up?”

“So, I’ve been trying to look around, see what options are available for you to move into. The cheapest housing in Hope is right here, if you wanna save up to rent a trailer. Then things get pricier, you’re looking at the trailers at Silver Lake which are twice as much, and even more than that for renting an apartment in Falls End or god forbid you’re trying to buy a house.”

“I…don’t really wanna live here on my own… The people here are…”

“Rough?”

“We’ll go with that. But, it’s not like I can afford anything else.”

“Well, there’s affordable housing like section eight in the bigger places, b-“

“I don’t wanna leave Hope either, I-, oh god.”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not trying to freak you out or overload you. You don’t have to know right now, you don’t have to know anytime soon. You can stay here as long as you need, no rush or pressure. I just wanted to let you know what I found.”

“Thanks, I just gotta save up some money and then…”

“Hey, I still got some time for my lunch break, I’ll treat ya if there’s anywhere you wanna go.”

“Uh, I could go for some pizza.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Dahlia takes them both to the 8-Bit Pizza Bar, the rest of her lunch break isn’t very long, so they don’t get much time to chat. Finishing off a pizza and talking about video games before Dahlia has to drop Cassie back off at the trailer to head back into work; warning her new roommate that she’ll be going to The Spread Eagle after her shift. And finding out what she can bring Cassie home for dinner.

Whitehorse is out in the bullpen style offices when she arrives back to the precinct, discussing something with an officer. She waits as patiently as her baseline personality will allow her, unable to help tapping her fingers against her thigh, also brimming with some sort of uncontainable energy. Surely, Whitehorse might know someplace Cassie can turn to? Someplace that can help her.

“Something on your mind, Rookie?”

“Yeah, you remember that waitress, Cassie?”

“Something happen with her?” There’s a furrow in his brows and a clench in his jaw, worry and concern darkening his eyes.

“She called me, her mom hurt her, threw her out, she’s not interested in pressing charges. So, she’s staying with me right now, safe. But, uh, she’s…not really happy at the Moonflower. Rough folks ya know, give her dirty looks ‘cause she’s hanging out with a cop, that whole mess. So, I was wondering if there’s literally anything available to help her out?”

“I’m sorry to say, there’s not a hell of a lot around here, Rook. Moonflower’s cheapest place she’d find to live, but as far as charity goes, Hope County runs low on it. Churches use to help out when they could, you can always try with them, but not sure they can afford to help anymore.”

“Never thought I’d be upset at a lack of religious involvement in anything, but what do you mean they can’t afford it.”

“Most of ‘em are bleeding members. Pastor Jerome’s church in town and the old Lamb Of God Church only got a few regulars right now. Most folks jumped to Eden’s Gate.”

“Does….Eden’s Gate do any sort of help?”

Dahlia raises an eyebrow, Joseph certainly seems nice. The way Layla and Waylon talked, the church is no stranger to helping the crestfallen. Certainly, they do some sort of outreach? Even the worst of churches tend to do something; hell her own shitty step-dad’s church helped rebuild the community after the hurricanes. It’s good PR and a way to draw people in.

“Sure, but for most people they’re a last resort and for good reason.”

“’Cause they’re buzzkills and no one likes them?”

“That’s one way to put it,” he gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze, “good luck and if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know, alright?”

“Will do, thanks, Sheriff.”.

Later in the night, shift ending with little trouble, the three deputies make their usual Spread Eagle trips. But Dahlia can’t seem to settle. She assumed it’d feel easy and nice to be back to her completely usual routine, a celebration when she returned, but everything draws her mind back to Cassie. Dahlia can’t help but feel guilty when she thinks about it, despite opening her home to the older girl, she can’t say she’s been there much. Having to go to work today and only sparing her a half hour for lunch. And now she’s out with friends… She tries to focus on what Pratt and Hudson are saying, but only finds herself worrying about Cassie. She’s alone in an unfamiliar place… probably still scared and worried about every shadow.

“You alright, Rook, you seem out of it.”

“Yeah, uh, actually, my head is starting to hurt, injury and all that. So, if it’s cool, I’m gonna split early tonight.”

“Alright, but if you think you’re getting a rain check on that free food, you’re out of your mind,” Pratt taunts her and she laughs, flicking his ear.

“Somehow I’ll live, see you guys tomorrow.”

She orders some food to go for her and Cassie then heads out. There’s that familiar end of shift exhaustion as she pulls into the Moonflower, bones and muscles always a little leaden. The desire to just stuff her face and veg out in front of the tv for a while. It’s an all too familiar feeling of trudging back to her trailer, but this isn’t the same as all those nights.

Darkness and silence don’t greet her as she opens the door, the clawing feeling of loneliness doesn’t strike her like a snake hiding in underbrush. Her trailer is alive, it seems, lights and tv on, brightness and a burble of noise. Cassie sitting on the couch, curled up as some romantic comedy plays on the tv. Her entire body turning to greet Dahlia, bright eyes and a soft smile welcoming the deputy.

“Hey, I thought you were gonna be late?”

“Yeah, turns out I wasn’t feeling it tonight, brought dinner though,” Dahlia shows the bag off, “what’re you watching?”

“10 Things I Hate About You. I know it’s cheesy as hell, but it’s one of my favorites.”

“Never seen it.”

“What, oh my god, you have to watch it with me! It’s so good.”

“Okay, okay, let me settle in and we’ll have a movie night.”

Once she’s changed out of her uniform, Dahlia settles in on the couch with Cassie, who’s rewinded the movie back to the beginning. They’re cramming food into their mouths as it plays and it’s adorable. A guy being paid to date a girl, so another guy could date her sister due to some dumb dad rule, but then alas he falls in legitimate love. Cassie says lines along with the actors, showing just how many times she’s watched it, able to quote characters verbatim. She does a nervous little glance over at Dahlia now and again as it plays on, checking Dahlia’s interest, the deputy makes sure to smile a little brighter when those eyes land on her.

“I want you to want me, I need you to need me, I’m begging you to beg me~!” Cassie sings along to the final song that plays the movie out, a band conveniently located on the schools roof, because why the hell not?

“I see why that’s one of your favorites.”

“Sorry I couldn’t shut up,” Cassie apologizes, cheeks red.

“No, no, it’s cute. Shows just how much you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I still remember when they showed it to us in class, I just fell in love.”

“They showed that in school?”

“Yeah, it’s actually based on an Shakespeare play, Taming of The Shrew, so they showed to us in English. Along with the DeCaprio, Romeo and Juliet.”

“Ah, I haven’t seen that movie either.”

“You haven’t seen many movies have you?”

“My family wasn’t big on tv and honestly, if my school played anything, I probably slept through it or don’t remember it well.”

“I mean, your memory can’t be that bad, high school was probably not that long ago for you, was it?”

“Hey, you don’t know that, I could be pushing forty for all you know.”

“Oh yeah, and dermatologist just hate you,” she rolls her eyes, “seriously, how old are you?”

Maybe, it’s the food warm in her belly, the comfort of her own trailer, or the shared smiles; but she feels a little more honest than usual.

“Twenty…ish,” she says, with a little smug smirk, knowing the question to follow.

“Ish?”

“Hmmm, well, between you and me, I may be a little shy of it.”

“You’re nineteen?”

“Only for the next three months or so, but, yeah…” She admits, trying to do the math, she turns twenty in September.

“So, you’ve just been lying about your age?”

“It’s three months, okay, nineteen just hits the ear differently. I have a hard enough time getting anyone around here to respect me without being called a teenager.”

“But, you are a teenager.”

“Technically, my age does contain the word teen in it.”

“And what do you plan on doing when everyone expects you to turn twenty-one and you don’t?”

“The only people who know when my birthday is would be the Sheriff, you kind of, or in Louisiana. As long as you and Whitehorse don’t run around alerting everyone, there’s no way of any of them knowing, I can play it off as my birthday being further away.”

“Is that worth it just to not be called a teenager?”

“Considering all the shit I get about my age and rank already; yes.”

“I mean, you do look like a baby faced high schooler.”

“Oh you’re one to talk,” Dahlia laughs, reaching out to pinch Cassie’s own round cheeks, the girl giggles and shoves at her in response.

“Shit, it’s late,” Cassie says after a moment, catching the time.

“You headed for bed then?’

“I, uh, actually needed to ask you something first?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I got today off because of…everything…but if I wanna start saving money back up, I gotta go into work. But…I don’t have a car…”

“What’d you do before?”

“I just used my mom’s car, she didn’t let me have my own, said it was too much…”

“And public transport ain’t exactly booming out here.”

“You can’t even get rideshares out here.”

“What’s your shift hours?”

“Nine to five.”

“You okay with getting there early and hanging out there later? If so I can drop you off on my way to and from work, my shifts are just a bit, lengthier.”

“Yeah that’s fine, hell, I could chock it up to overtime and probably get a coworker to drive me home at the end of my shift, if you can just get me there in the morning.”

“We can do that.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Cassie throws her arms around Dahlia, “seriously, this just thank you.”

“You’re welcome, you’re gonna get through this and I’m gonna help you every step of the way, promise.”

She rubs a hand up and down the girls back, then she hears it. Maybe it’s just everything hitting Cassie, maybe it’s the deputy’s words, or the comforting touch; but something pushes the older girl to tears. Broken whimpers and cries, tears wetting Dahlia’s shoulder as she does her best to comfort Cassie, holding her tight and letting her just let it out.

It’s unclear how long it lasts, the outpour of emotion, but at some point, Cassie is finally able to pull away with red rimmed eyes and apologies on her lips.

“Nothing to apologize for, mon cher. Why don’t you head on to bed, morning will be here before you know it.”

“Okay, night, and I know I sound like a broken record, but thanks again…”

“No problems, now go get some sleep.”

Cassie leave for the bedroom and Dahlia chews her lips, thoughts racing through her brain. There’s a thought pressing on her, she didn’t bring it up to Cassie and likely won’t until she settles in a bit more. But, she wonders if Cassie could once she gets her footing, just chip in for rent here? She said she feels more comfortable in the Moonflower with Dahlia around, they get along well, and Dahlia likes having a friend to come home to… But a conversation for another day…

It’s the following afternoon when Pratt and Dahlia are called out to a local veteran’s house. Redler is an older man, older than Whitehorse, with steel gray hair and deep wrinkles creased into his face. Despite his age, he’s strong and sturdy, shaking Dahlia’s hand with a near bone crushing strength when she greets him the next day under the afternoon sun. She can feel the years of work in the rough calluses that mar his hands. Pratt told her that he fought in Vietnam when they got the dispatch call, someone tried to break into his home last night and they were asked to check everything out.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Dahlia says after introduction, feeling the need to straighten her shoulders around the veteran.

“Thank you both for coming out, I’m sure I’m just being paranoid, but I’d appreciate if you’d check everything out. I can’t get around quite like I use to.”

“We’re happy to help, Redler.”

Pratt and Dahlia start to walk around the house and property, searching for anything that could be considered suspicious or out of ordinary. There’s nothing that jumps out at Dahlia, Redler said he heard something last night but when he yelled out, whatever or whoever it was went away.

“You think they managed to do anything before he scared ‘em off?” Dahlia asks Pratt.

“Nah, some of the local teenagers just like to be a pain in his ass.”

“Why?”

“He’s an old sometimes crabby guy, kids are pains in the ass, like you.”

“Haha,” she mocks dryly, “you’re so funny.”

“I’m hilarious, in fact I had a very eye-opening experience this morning.”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“I woke up.”

“Ughh,” she groans what an awful fucking joke, “you corny dumbass.”

She raises her fist to give him her usual playful punch against his shoulder, then he steps out of the way. Her knuckles swinging through empty air before connecting with the glass behind Pratt. Blood drains from her face as the window shatters from the force of her punch. She…broke Redler’s window.

“What the fuck, Rookie!?” Pratt looks at the window and at her, hazel green eyes wide with shock.

“I, I, you moved!”

“Oh no, oh no,” he shakes his hands emphatically and smirking, “you’re not blaming this on me.”

“Why did you move!?”

“How hard were you trying to hit me?!”

“No harder than usual, I, I-“

“What the hell was that?” Redler’s voices rings out, steps following after his question, no doubt he heard the shatter.

“Oh god.” She buries her head in her hands, embarrassment and shame hot in her face, she broke the man’s window over a shitty dad joke. Pratt is cackling at her expense and she knows she’s an idiot. But why did he move?

“What the hell happened here?” Redler asks as he comes around the corner of his house, seeing the broken outside window. She’s sure the inside is a mess of glass, oh god, what is wrong with her?

“I’m so so so so sorry,” she gushes out loudly from behind her hands, “I accidentally punched your window. I didn’t mean to, really. I’ll clean it up and fix it, I promise, I’ll pay for everything. I’m so sorry.”

Her words slur and run into each other, as guilt forces her to practically beg for forgiveness.

“Dear lord,” Redler sighs, the heavy sound a vice around her heart, dear god he must think she’s the stupidest person ever and he’s right, “I have the supplies to fix it up, you know how?”

“Yes, sir, I could build you a brand new house if you gave me the time and supplies,” she tells him, which okay, maybe an exaggeration. But, if he asked her to, she’d try her damndest.

“That won’t be necessary, c’mon now.”

There’s two different sheds, or shed like structures on his property. One is locked up tight, a keypad on the door and she finds herself wondering what might be in it as he brings her to the other building; helping her gather what she’ll need. Dahlia gets to work on fixing the disaster she’s created, first by cleaning up the broken glass inside and out of the home. Pratt on standby to snicker at the young deputy.

“You punched a window…” He says, voice straining to contain laughter.

“I know.”

“Because of a dumb joke.”

“I know.”

“Why are you like this?”

“I don’t know!”

If it wasn’t for the guilt and embarrassment; she’d probably be laughing at the ridculousness of the situation. But for now, every chuckle from her superior officer just fills her with a fresh dose of shame. Once she’s moved onto fixing the broken window itself, glass cleared, Pratt’s finally shifted his focus away from taunting her.

“Hey, Red,” he talks to the veteran while she works to clear out the dirt and old caulking from the window frame, “you going to the Rye barbecue tomorrow?”

“Yeah…”

“You don’t sound thrilled.”

“Gah, it’s nothing, Grace and her dad are taking me, since I can’t drive or walk too well anymore. Just-“

“Don’t like having to be helped?”

“Yeah, hazard of being my age, I’m afraid.”

“It’s nice to see the veterans looking out for each other, though.”

“Pff, use to see it a hell of a lot more because that damn Eden’s Gate bought the veterans center out from under us,” he sighs, heavy and deep for a moment before the older man looks over at her, “what about you, gonna break some of Kim and Nick’s windows tomorrow?”

He’s smiling and Pratt laughs; at least Redler finds some humor in this she supposes. Her face is beet red as she tries to search for a response through her embarrassment.

“Not that it stopped me from breaking yours, but, uh, I don’t know Nick or Kim. So, I’ll be steering clear.”

“Still hung up on that,” Pratt rolls his eyes, “I told you, just show up with some food, no one gives a shit.”

“I’m not showing up at a strangers house for their barbecue; that’s just asking for awkwardness and I have enough of that in my life as is.”

“C’mon; me, Hudson, Whitehorse, even Beau will all be there. Ain’t like you won’t know anyone.”

“All done,” she cuts off the barbecue talk, finished glazing and setting the window, it’s good to go.

“Would have preferred you didn’t break it, but thanks for getting it fixed so quick.”

“No problem and like I said,” she pulls cash from her wallet, more than enough to cover all she had to use, “’cause no reason you should be out for the stuff. Sorry again.”

“And goes without saying, we didn’t find anything amiss, so you scared the brats off before they did anything,” Pratt chimes in.

“’Preciate you two coming to check it out and despite the trouble, I suppose having some company was nice, I’ll see you around.”

With that the pair of deputies leave the veteran to his evening, hopefully one that will contain significantly less broken windows. Dahlia rubs a hand down her face when she sits down, tension leaving her back and shoulders now that she’s managed to fix the mess she made.

“You should seriously come to the barbecue.”

“Pratt….”

“It’ll be a chance to meet some more folks, you’re talking about not knowing people, this is how you meet people.”

He’s not wrong and she knows it, if she ever wants to make friends beyond him, Hudson, Cassie and Eden’s Gate members who’re hated by everyone else, then surely she needs to try to be social.

“Fine, fine, I’ll buy something to bring tomorrow.”

“Store bought crap isn’t exactly a way of winning folks over.”

“I can’t cook, Staci.”

“Who the hell can’t cook?”

“Me, asshole.”

“Oh please, you can throw something together.”

“I mean if you want me to give the county food poisoning, I can.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” he rolls his eyes and starts up the cruiser, he doesn’t seem to understand just how incompetent she is in the kitchen.

The moment her shift ends, Dahlia is in a grocery store with her phone on searching for recipes. She needs something good, but more importantly, absolutely idiot proof. She wonders for a moment if she could get away with just freezing juice and sticking toothpicks in them for popsicles, that might be the only thing she’s incapable of fucking up. Though knowing her luck the freezer would just explode.

She’s gonna kill Pratt; actually, physically kill him.

No bake cookies, she spots on a list of recipes, that should be easy enough. Probably, it doesn’t even have to be baked, what’s the worst that could happen? Dahlia gathers up ingredients, enough for a few batches, in case she fucks up the first few attempts. Which she will. And some store generic brand sugar cookies in case she fucks up every attempt. Which she probably will.

Cassie is on the couch watching movies, having grabbed that ride home from a coworker, when Dahlia comes home with bags filled with ingredients. The older girl raises an eyebrow, watching as Dahlia drags these bags to the kitchen, which she hasn’t touched since she made shitty instant hot chocolate.

The deputy rubs her fingers idly against the burn across her palm, her step father having held it to the stove when her mother tried to teach her to cook and she hadn’t listened. It stands out among her colorful history of abuse at his hands, the burning of her own flesh a sharp and brutal contrast to the bite of a belt or the strike of a hand. It may only be second to the snake incident…

She shakes her head, trying to shake off her memories like a dog drying itself. She’ll have time to review Father Monroe’s greatest hits later, for now she needs to try to make cookies without destroying her trailer.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to the Rye barbecue tomorrow, so I have to make something…”

“Oh those have always been fun.”

“You’ve been?”

“Yeah, everyone loves Nick and Kim.”

“Well, I’ve never met them and I’m terrified.”

“Pff,” Cassie laughs, “they’re sweethearts, though Kim’s a little hormonal with baby.”

“I…ya know what it doesn’t matter, what does matter is; you wanna play hooky from work and go with me?”

“I need money.”

“Ugh, you and your need for basic survival requirements,” Dahlia dramatically roles her eyes, “if you must disappoint me by ‘needing money’, you can least make up for it by making the cookies.”

“Not happening.”

“God damn it, fine, I got this.”

Dahlia dumps the ingredient out on her counter; sugar, milk, butter, cocoa powder, vanilla, peanut butter, and oats. So, she needs to line baking pans with parchment paper… the fuck is parchment paper? Why was this not mentioned in things she needed?

“I don’t think I got this,” Dahlia announces.

“It’s been a minute.”

“What the fuck is parchment paper?”

“Its paper so it doesn’t stick to the pan, I think you have some non-stick spray, that may help?”

“Okay, okay then.”

“Do you even have pans?”

“Yes, I have pans, I’m not a cavewoman.”

“You sure about that?”

Cassie merely laughs at Dahlia’s pout, the deputy then grabbing the pans and spraying them down, this should be fine? She shrugs to herself, what’s the worse that could happen if she uses spray and not paper?

“Okay then,” Dahlia starts to read the rest of the recipe, “wait what?”

“Do you already have a new crisis?”

“…maybe… These are supposed to be no bakes, why am I heating shit up on the stove? That makes no sense.”

“Well, that’s not baking.” Cassie shrugs like it’s obvious and maybe to her it is.

“What?”

“Baking means it’s in an oven,” Cassie speaks slowly, eyes wide at the realization of how deep Dahlia’s incompetence runs, “if it’s on a stove that’s more like cooking.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck? Why do you need more than one word for making food hot?!”

“Do…do you know anything?”

“Clearly not!”

Dahlia curses under her breath, already frustrated at her lack of knowledge. Why is she such a fucking idiot with this stuff? She just wants to make a good impression on people and she’s such a fucking mess. Ruminating will get her nowhere; she ties her short hair back into a sloppy little ponytail and takes her deputy uniform shirt off to tie around her hips, knowing the stove will quickly heart up her small kitchen then sets her phone to play some music.

“You need music to cook?”

“Need it to function.”

“Some parts of my brain are probably still sleeping I wish I could tell but I'm probably still sleeping.”

Dahlia starts following the instructions , humming along to the music, something upbeat to help her not want to die through this entire process. She eyeballs the amount of sugar, butter, cocoa powder and milk into the saucepan; trying to make it look like the pictured amount and turns on the heat. The recipe calls for her to whisk it, but she doesn’t have one those, so she stirs it off and on with a spoon, this isn’t too hard so far.

“Uh, are you measuring that?” Cassie asks and Dahlia leans on the table to talk, tapping her fingers along to the beat.

“The recipe doesn’t say how much, but like, it can’t be too hard.”

“Uhhhh deputy….”

“I look to the window, I look through your eyes

I can see my reflection, but I can't close the blinds.”

There’s a burbling noise followed by sizzling and Dahlia turns in time to see chocolate milk boiling over the pan. It runs down onto the floor, sizzling as it hits the burner. The word shit is said under Dahlia’s breath like a chant as she shuts off the heat.

“So…too much milk?” Dahlia wonder out loud as she cleans up the mess.

“Like I know.”

‘Someone has to, ‘cause I sure as shit don’t.”

“It's like someone's determined to change how I think

But if I just close my eyes I'll wake from each dream”

Dahlia cleans up the mess and dumps out the chocolate milk soupy mess within the pan, ignoring Cassie’s snickers of laughter as she works. She just had to do this with a peanut gallery, didn’t she? But hey, she was prepared for the first couple attempts to fuck up. She combines the ingredients again, using much less milk this time.

“Maybe you should find a recipe with measurements?”

“I already have the ingredients for this recipe,” Dahlia says, if she switches now there could be shit she doesn’t have, right?

“You’re so stubborn…”

“What?” Dahlia asks when she notices the trail off, storing the new mixture which is thicker and becoming harder to stir in seconds, is that good?

“Holy fuck.”

“You okay?”

“I don’t know your name.”

“Yeah, you just realized ? Umm, is that smell normal?” The chocolate mess is starting to smell like burning tires…which is probably bad.

“Would it let you down if we don't grow up?

Would it make you proud if we gave up?

What about anybody?

They're all just chasin' money”

“How is that possible? I’m living with you and don’t even know your name.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Whitehorse is the only one who knows my full name.”

“What the-do you not tell people your name?”

“I mean, I never avoided it, but I usually just call myself the new deputy and we move on. Just sort of happened and now I just think it’s kinda funny, uh this is definitely not good is it?”

“Jesus fuck, no that’s not good!”

Pitch black smoke has started to roll off the pan; solidifying burnt chocolate sticking to it. Dahlia swings the pan around to the sink, rolling it under cold water before it can spark fire. She huffs, blowing lose strands of hair up and out of her face, sweat and flush on her skin as she turns to face Cassie.

“So, not enough milk that time.”

“You giving up?”

“Of course not, third times a charm, mon cher,” Dahlia bolsters her fake confidence as she grabs a new pan, surely she can salvage one batch?

“Would it let you down if we don't grow up?

Would it make you proud if we gave up?

What about anybody?

They're all just chasin' honey”

Dahlia recombines finding a middle ground for the amount of milk to avoid burning or boiling over; she hovers over it, stirring the entire time as she watches for any signs of a new disaster. The entire time Cassie seems to be watching her, but she doesn’t talk as much this time, Dahlia can feel eyes on her arms in particular. She looks down at her arm, half expecting to see a spider, a pimple, or something that’d draw attention. But all she sees is her own bicep, maybe it’s the tattoos. Nothing complicated, as she couldn’t afford much, two solid black bands around her right bicep.

“If ever you want me, if ever you need me

I may not be conscious but baby I'm honest

I'll look to the mirror, I'll look through your heart

I can see good intentions but we tear them apart”

“Do you like tattoos?” Dahlia asks, wondering if that’s why Cassie’s eyes have been drawn to the ink.

“Huh, oh, uh they’re alright, I don’t have anything against them, do you have a lot?”

“Just these and one on my lower back.”

“You have a tramp stamp?” Cassie raises an eyebrow, a smile to her lips.

“No, tramp stamps are across the middle, it’s on the left side, so ha.”

“So, it’s tramp stamp adjacent?”

“Shut up.”

“What is it of?”

“A quote from Lady Lazarus; ‘and like the cat I have nine times to die,’ Sylvia Plath.”

“That’s,” Cassie blinks, taken aback, “a lot more…pretentious than I expected from you.”

“Someone I use to live with had all these books of poetry, philosophy, all the deep shit you could dream of. It was my first real time reading that kind of stuff, so a lot of it stuck with me. Cats are kind of a…theme in my life. They called me their stray, got me the helmet, I even had a cat for a…short period of time. So, it’s the quote from it I picked.”

She can’t help but smile thinking of the shelves of books that Lloyd and Caroline had; when they first took her in, after years of being hidden away from anything ‘sinful’ or ‘worldly’, she was desperate to consume any media she could. She read every book in their house, spent days in front of the tv just binge-watching stuff she wasn’t allowed to watch as a kid. Mostly pokemon cartoons, horror movies, and Sailor Moon if she’s being honest. Caroline was the one with the love of poetry, telling Dahlia about Sylvia Plath when she found the books of poems one night.

The idea of constantly being killed only to be brought back, over and over, a constant revolving door of pain. A cycle you beg for release from but are never afforded the mercy of it; Caroline explained how Plath struggled with suicidal thoughts… Dahlia never thought herself suicidal through her childhood, but she couldn’t deny how often she wished for death, an escape of any kind… The symbolism with the condemnation of Jewish people, knowing the half of Dahlia’s background that her mother threw away for Father Monroe and made Dahlia throw away too, yet still they were called such vile and slurs… It just stuck with her.

“Was there another contender?”

“Yeah, I love the poem all around but two parts of it have always been my favorite.”

“The cat one and…?”

“Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.”

“God, you’re a dork.”

“So rude, what am I gonna do with you,” Dahlia laughs, shaking her head as she moves the pan off the burner. So far, it’s going alright, all she should need to do is mix in vanilla, peanut butter, and oats. Wait…she may be dumber than originally thought, which is saying a lot.

“Something wrong, you look like you’re doing math in your head or something.”

“A lot of people are allergic to peanuts…aren’t they?”

“It’s like one of the most common allergies, yeah.”

“And I chose food with peanut butter in them…”

“Wasn’t gonna burst you bubble quite yet, but I’m pretty sure Nick is.”

“What!? Why would you-!? What were you waiting for, me to kill a man!?”

Cassie just laughs and Dahlia’s face feels like absolute fire, she’s frustrated and dumb. And between this shit and Redler’s window, who let her be like this? Did no one ever realize that she clearly does not have a brain? Was she born like this and the doctor was just like eh it’s fine and threw her little empty headed baby body out into the world?

“It’s not a b-“ Cassie tries to speak through red faced laughter, because Dahlia’s misery is hilarious.

“That’s it! I’m moving to Alaska, bon voyage, I’m out!” Dahlia claps her hands and swings her arms dramatically before dropping onto her back on the kitchen floor, crossing her arms over her chest. It’s so dumb, eyes stinging and throat feeling tight. It’s just cookies, she actually wants to cry over cookies, but dear god she can’t even make fucking cookies! It just feels like another failure.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Cassie stands up and comes around to talk to the dejected puddle of deputy, “it’s not a big deal, don’t be dramatic, alright?”

“I’m not being dramatic, between this and Redler’s window, I’m just gonna dye my fucking hair and run away to Alaska so no one knows who I am and no one can find me.”

“What happened to Redler’s window?”

“I broke it…”

“Why’d you do that?”

“I was trying to punch Pratt and he moved!”

“Holy shit.”

“Aren’t you suppose to be helping me?”

“Umm, pack plenty of coats and I wouldn’t recommend going blonde.”

“I hate you. Why do all my friends bully me?” She asks, thinking of both Cassie and Pratt being shitheads with her. She expects it from him, but Cassie, really?

“We do it with love, I assure you, now get up.”

“No.”

“I’m serious, okay, you can write a note and put it by them, most people expect no bakes to have peanut butter anyway.”

“I can’t write a note.”

“Wh- oh yeah your handwriting is…”

“Dog shit, I know.”

“I’ll write it for you then, okay, now get up.”

“Thank you…” Dahlia reluctantly climbs up onto her feet, still pouting when she looks at Cassie who just smiles at her before ruffling her already messy hair.

“You got this.”

“Do I?”

“No. But I’m trying to be positive.”

“Okay, fuck you too I guess?” Dahlia says in mock anger, laughing at the ridiculousness of all of this.

She rubs a hand down her face and gets back to mixing up the rest of them mix, then spooning it onto a pan, after that it’s a matter of letting them set so they can solidify. When she sucks some of the mix off her thumb, she’s pleasantly surprised, half expecting with her luck for it to be inedible, but it tastes fine. Chocolate, hint of peanut butter, and oats. Nothing fancy, but she’s not gagging which is something.

“Here, that should help, if you end up taking these,” Cassie says, showing a notecard with a warning for peanut butter on it.

“What do you mean ‘if’ I end up taking them, they’re not bad, they actually turned out pretty well.”

“Well, they might not set.”

“What?”

“Sometimes no bakes don’t set properly and you end up with just puddles of chocolate oatmeal instead of proper cookies.”

“What the fuck…what?”

“Not to literally bring you down again, but, um, no bakes are kinda finicky and not a great choice for beginners.”

“I’m never baking, cooking, broiling, roasting, or whatever the fuck else you call this shit ever again.”

“That’s probably best for everyone…”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too. I’m gonna head to bed now.”

“Yeah, now you got your fill of entertainment.”

“Don’t stress too much.”

Dahlia sighs as Cassie leaves, shoulders still tense. She just wants to make a good impression, she nearly ruined her chance at that with the church barbecue, only by the grace of far too patient people did she manage to come out of it with hopefully some friends. Dahlia doesn’t have the religion barrier in this situation, so she should be better off? She hopes, she doesn’t expect to be best friends with anyone or be welcomed like family, but the more people around here like her the better. Hopefully with Pratt there, some of her nerves will be tamped down on. She’s closer to her coworkers now and has a few friends, so it shouldn’t be too bad, despite her struggle with crowds and socializing. She crashes down onto her couch, yanking her hair tie out before she goes to sleep.

She’s up early to take Cassie to work before she goes to the barbecue, the older girl bustling to get ready as Dahlia checks on the cookies. Her finger sinks right into one, still wet. Oh no. Maybe they just need some more time, yeah, that’s all.

Once Cassie is safely at work, confirming a coworker is going to take her home, Dahlia heads back home. The cookies are still wet… She’s going to scream. There has to be a way to make them set? She considers holding a hair dryer to them, but on second thought the heat may just make them melt further.

Frustrated and the time to leave getting closer, Dahlia goes to get ready, hoping by some twist of fate that they’ll be set by the time she’s showered and dressed.

Hair still damp, dressed but with a towel across her shoulders to catch stray droplets, she checks again. Cursing under her breath when they’re still just lumps of wet chocolate oatmeal. She might as well show up with a Tupperware container of slop.

Dahlia slam dunks her failure cookies into the trash a little harder than needed before grabbing the store made sugar cookies. It’s probably for the best with the peanut butter anyway… She throws on her jacket, boots, and helmet before headed out west towards the Holland Valley. Pratt told her the Rye’s property is just outside of Falls End.

Her shitty directional skills manage to not get in her way, thanks in no small part to the signs for Rye and Son’s Aviation. Small blessings she figures. There’s a driveway that cuts through the woods, a cozy house closer to the drive-way, then an outside building and the hangar beyond it.

People are gathered in open space near the hangar, picnic tables and a grill set up. There’s an airplane out, a vivid yellow seaplane with a shark design. She parks her motorcycle along with the rest of the cars and trucks, still a short walk from where the party is. She’s searching for familiar faces, before she walks forwards, Pratt mostly. She doesn’t find him.

Hudson is speaking with Mary May and two women she doesn’t know. One with long dark hair and fatigues, the other a noticeably pregnant woman with hair shaved at the side. They talk and laugh. Despite having felt a little less awkward with Hudson, since spending more time with her, the idea of interrupting or cutting in feels wrong.

Whitehorse is talking to a man she doesn’t know, but judging by the pastor’s collar she can assume his job. Catholicism isn’t particularly common out here and the only catholic church she can think of is the one in Falls End. Not exactly comfortable jumping in there either.

There’s not really an easy place to put herself in, nothing that feels comfortable or right. Everything feels like an intrusion.

“Everyone’s gonna think you’re a creep, if you keep staring like that,” a familiar voice taunting her, Pratt’s standing beside her and she can’t help but smile, tension easing. He’s a jerk, but he’s her jerk.

“Shut up, dickhead, I was trying to see who I knew,” she explains, grabbing the store-bought cookies from the under-seat storage. If Pratt’s by her side, she feels a bit more confident joining in. She’s not sure when he became a rock for her in a situation like this, but maybe it’s best not to question that.

“So, you just bought store crap?”

“Okay, judgey, what did you make?”

“Pff, I can’t fucking cook, the hell are you talking about?”

“What,” she glares at him, if this was all an excuse to fuck with her, she’s killing him, “you said everyone cooks, no store bought crap!”

“And you believed me? Food is food, no one gives a fuck where it came from, well there’s the one time the Seeds brough this gross ass mac and cheese, but that’s another story.”

“What the fuck Pratt? I was up all night trying to make something edible.”

“Take it that didn’t go well?”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Hey Beau, hey Nick,” Pratt calls out and then goes rushing off towards the crowd, he’s leaving her.

“Where are you going?”

“Sorry can’t hear you, need to be near witnesses, bye,” he’s laughing through his words and she finds herself wanting to grab the back of his shirt, to drag him back just so she won’t have to go in alone. But that’s childish…so she watches as her rock runs off to join everyone else.

And once again she’s the sore thumb and maybe if she tried, she could make a new friend. And maybe if she’d just get the courage to talk to someone, she’d be fine. And maybe if she wasn’t such a damn coward, she’d do that. But she’s been the outsider looking in for her entire life and there’s a level of comfort in the loneliness; familiarity in isolation.

When she thinks of it, the people who breach that comfort zone rarely do so because either of them make that step. Circumstance, not courage, is what always brings people into her life. Pratt and Hudson are her friends, because they work together, Pratt more so because they’re made to spend almost everyday together. Cassie because she was in an awful situation and needed a home. Lloyd and Caroline because she needed one. Hell, Eden’s Gate members are the closest to it, but they still sought her out for another body in the flock, not because they wanted her as a friend. Circumstance, desperation, pity, and religious duty.

And as her throat tightens, feet frozen in place as she debates trying to socialize, she realizes…maybe that’s okay. Not happy or pleasant to think of, but okay. She’ll stay in her bubble for another day or the rest of her life; one of the two.

Dahlia throws the cookies back into the under storage and slips her helmet back on, climbing onto her bike, riding away from the barbecue. Music blasting in her ears and racing down backroads on her motorcycle; it feels like home.

Songs change, hours pass, the sun sets and the moon takes it’s place with the stars keeping it company. She’s spent the entire day riding and her heart feels lighter for it, she thinks as she pulls over to get gas, filling the tank. The entire barbecue and cooking thing is a fucking fiasco, but she’s happy now and that’s what matters, so fuck it. She got to spend an entire day doing one of the things she loves most in this world and she has a friend, no matter how they got there, who’s waiting for her at home.

Then her phone rings and Dahlia feels her heart leap into her throat, the hair on the back of her neck raising. That little sixth sense warning her that something is wrong. Because as she’s learned quickly, even her most minor of happy moments must be interrupted by total fucking hell. It’s Cassie and her fear only raises.

“Deputy…” And she’s brought back to the night Cassie called her, that broken and scared voice asking for help, no longer the happy woman who’d taunted her last night. There’s something in the background; some sort of yelling and music.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…I don’t know, someone broke a window, I, there’s yelling, they’re doing something, I’m scared to check.”

“You’re at the Moonflower.”

“Yeah, I, I don’t know what going on.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Dahlia keeps her on the phone as she races back, a repeat of Wednesday night it feels like. Just when Cassie was feeling safe, just when things felt good, because of fucking course. She has no idea what hairbrained idea the Moonflower folks got in their head, she knows they hate her and fine, she gets it, but to scare Cassie like that is so fucking wrong.

It looks like they decided to have their own party while so much of the county was away at the Rye’s. There’s a stench of booze around the entire trailer park. Rage is white hot inside of Dahlia when she sees the cluster of them around her trailer, a few cursing when they see her getting closer. She could give a fuck less about the damage, the broken windows or the PIG spray painted across the trailer, but Cassie is there. Curled up and crying, surrounded by broken glass as they shove and push at the home.

“Everybody stand back!” Liam calls out; lighter in one hand, bottle of booze with a rag in the other. And she’s on him, tackling him to the ground beneath her. The lighter and would be Molotov thankfully fall away without igniting. Instinct and anger pushes her to raise back her fist and slam it into Liam’s face.

She’s blacked his eye, skin breaking at his eyebrow and making his blood stick to her knuckles; then someone is grabbing her from behind, pulling her off of him. Dahlia slams her elbow back into the person’s gut, making them let go of her, she watches as Liam gets up, The crowd is surrounding them, no doubt ready to dogpile Dahlia if she tries to go after him again. He’s smiling and laughing, like an asshole, she wants to punch him again.

“Quite a temper you got there, deputy.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Fuck is wrong with me? You’re the cop running around hitting people over a trailer,” he taunts her, reminding her that she should be better than this.

“Fuck you, this ain’t about the god damn trailer!”

“Wh-“

“Deputy…” A broken timid voice rings out from behind Dahlia, Cassie… When Dahlia looks over her shoulder, she can see her friend on the porch, just poking her head out from behind the door. Her eyes are wide and Dahlia wonders just how much of this mess she’s seen.

“Shit…” Liam murmurs and the smirk is wiped off his face, eyes wide.

“Everything okay, Cassie, I’m taking care of it. Go back inside, okay?” She watches as Cassie goes back in with a timid nod.

“I… we didn’t know anyone was home…”

“Oh so it’s all okay, everything’s fine ‘cause you didn’t fuckin’ know! You could have killed her, you dumb fuck!”

“I-I’m-“

“Save it! Get the fuck away from me before I do something I regret.”

Liam gets the picture, he has something more to say, everyone else there seems to too. But, no one’s stupid enough to test their luck or maybe smart enough to know this isn’t the time to talk. Once they’re all gone and she knows they’re not going to do anything stupid, again, Dahlia goes back to the trailer.

Cassie is curled up on the couch, knees pulled up to her chest. The inside of the trailer is a mess; broken glass from windows, beer bottles, trash, rocks, and a brick that was probably used to break it. All thrown inside while Cassie sat horrified.

“I’m so sorry,” Dahlia says and sits next to her, extending an arm to hold her.

But Cassie flinches away, curls up deeper upon herself, as if Dahlia’s even attempt to comfort had scalded her. And the deputy’s heart seizes in her chest, pulling her arm back, seeing the blood on her knuckles. Did Cassie see her hit Liam? How much of her rage did she witness? Bloody knuckles, red faced, and nearly frothing at the mouth as she screamed her anger out… She must have seemed more like a monster than a friend.

And Dahlia’s reminded of Genevieve all at once, the child of Dahlia’s mother and Father Monroe, the deputy’s half sister. The young girl, she’d be no older than eleven or twelve by now, was his blood and his golden child for it. And he told her of every one of Dahlia’s so called faults, sins he believed she committed, and convinced the child Dahlia was a monster in their home. And for so long she treated her like it; flinched from her affection, cowered at her sight, and shrunk away from her at every moment. As if Dahlia was the boogeyman, she fought for years with silly stories and blanket forts to coax her own sister into loving her. But, progress was always quickly undone. Every effort to chip through the wall he’d built between them was met with abuse, egging on her anger so he could make a show of her sin , so Genevive would always see Dahlia as the monster who’d spit her blood and bare her teeth rather than give in.

Now, she’s there again, another person flinching from her, terrified of the monster she’s shown she can be. Scared that one day those bared teeth will be at her throat instead of at another's. And Dahlia truly can’t blame her.

“I…know it’s the only option…but I really don’t like it here…”

Dahlia had wanted to offer an invitation for Cassie to stay, those passing ideas of having a roommate, how nice it’d be. At the time Dahlia thought she could keep Cassie safe, that this is better than the hell she had with her mother. And maybe for a few days it was, but if this is the kind of shit that can happen, all Dahlia’s done is taken her out the pan and placed her in the fire. Almost literally… Cassie could have been burned alive if Dahlia hasn’t made it back in time…

Cassie needs someplace else and the conversation with Whitehorse resurfaces, Eden’s Gate. They take people in, the only conflict she was saw was when Layla was at a store, but the church and the compound were safe…protected. They have plenty of land to house anyone who needs it and apparently they have the heart to do so. The Seeds can be a little off, but they’re not bad…

“I got an idea,” Dahlia speaks up.

“What’s that?”

“You got anything against Eden’s Gate?”

“I mean, I’ve heard some stuff, but I don’t know much about them. I’ve seen Faith a few time and she seems nice.”

“She is, they, uh, they take people in sometimes…I can take you up to Joseph’s church and we can talk to them.”

“You think they’d help me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I think I’d like that.”

“Okay then,” Dahlia jumps up from the couch, “get dressed and lets get you packed up.”

“Right now?”

“You wanna spend the night here?”

“God no, lets go.”

It doesn’t take long for Cassie to get dressed and pack everything up in the bag Dahlia got from her house. They may be counting their chickens before they hatch, already getting her things packed up, but Dahlia can’t see Joseph turning Cassie away. He’s too kind for that. And even if he were too, Dahlia will find something, even if she has to go barge on Whitehorse’s door.

Dahlia has an arm around Cassie as they leave the trailer, hoping to offer even the smallest modicum of support. Cassie pulls on Dahlia’s helmet, at this rate maybe she should invest in a second helmet. And then with Cassie’s arms wrapped tight around her waist she rides out of the park.

Eden’s Gate is quickly becoming one of the only good places to be in the whole damn county; they got to help her… All Dahlia can do as she rides through winding roads is hope that her faith in the church isn’t misplaced.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #faith seed #this is love #dahlia hale

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sunflowerheartsandstarryskies · 4 years

Text

Land on the Same Shore- Chapter One- A Din Djarin X Reader Story

Author’s Note- Hey y’all this story was inspired by the Tangled AU @pedropascallovebot wrote and I fell in love with it but I also drew a lot of inspiration from the Bioshock videogames as well because there was also some rapunzel vibes with that. (Y/f/c) stands for your favorite color

The title is from the quote: “We swim in different oceans but land on the same shore” from the Bioshock series

Warnings: subtle mentions of abuse, mentions of gaslighting and manipulation

The Mandalorian wasn’t sure why he accepted the job in the first place, it wasn’t something he’d do, but he figured, a job is a job. A mother had asked him to find her daughter who had run away from home, and the mother sounded frantic to get her back safely. The Mandalorian had a bad feeling about this job, mostly because of the mother. She had worn a deep red, velvety cloak and had deep-set charcoal eyes, she was very pale.

The mother wore herself as she could be in her sixties but looked like she could be no more than in her thirties. There was an odd aura around the woman and the frantic way she asked for Mando to get her daughter wasn’t in the way a mother would be desperate to see her child safe and well, but as if she was a commodity, a precious treasure that was robbed from her.

Mando shook his head as he carried the fob with him to pick up on the tracker that’s on the daughter, there is no reason to be thinking about that, he had a quarry to pick up. The fob brought him to a quaint looking cantina, it was made of wood and had some intricate carvings on some wooden posts on the inside. When he went inside it was bustling with activity, tables have been moved aside and music playing loudly, while many of the patrons seem to be dancing and singing along to the music.

In the center of the stage was a beautiful girl in a spaghetti strap, corset dress in a beautiful (y/f/c) but the rest of the dress seemed to be made of loose, tulle that seemed to be ripped and dirtied in some areas. What caught Mando’s eyes was how bright-eyed she was and how happy she seemed to be in this rundown cantina dancing with strangers, doing a country line dance it seemed. The fob seemed to point towards her being the quarry and so he went towards her, but as he seemed to move forward all the music and warmth in the cantina was gone. The girl looked up at him and seemed to cower inwardly and a lot of the men there picked up on what is going on.

“I’m here to take you back to your mother,” Mando stated gruffly. The girl looked around fearfully with tears in her eyes, and one of the men stood in front of her and said, “Why? We won’t let you, it seems to us that she doesn’t want to go back.” Mando sighed and shook his head, he wasn’t being paid enough for this, but before he can push the man out of the way the girl jumped on to one of the benches nearby and yelled, “I have a dream to be able to go see the stars, to have adventures, that is why I went out on my own. I am an adult, I am 25 years old, I just want to see the galaxy! Surely all of you have dreams of your own, even you,” She pointed at Mando. The monologue made the Mandalorian hesitant in multiple ways, one was that the quarry was 25, she is a grown woman, why was the mother being so overprotective, and two no one had ever considered if a Mandalorian had dreams.

That speech had set off a ripple effect in the cantina with multiple people spewing their life and what their dream was to be, and there seems to be a sort of warmth brought back to the people there. The girl had such kind spirit and seemed to radiate this warm light to those around her, even the Mandalorian feels it. However, Mando had a job to do so he kept walking to the girl and put a hand to her shoulder and said, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way to get you back.”

There were many people who started to protest, but the girl raised her and shook her head as she tells everyone, “Thank you, everyone, for your kindness and generosity I will remember you, I hope you guys will remember your dreams, maybe I’ll be able to pursue mine another time,” she looks up at him and says more softly, “I will come with you quietly I don’t want to make more of a trouble for anyone then I already have.” He nods and puts the cuffs on her as he leads her out of the cantina.

When he was leading her back to his ship, the Razor Crest, he noticed she wasn’t wearing any shoes. “Do you not have any shoes?” Mando asked. She shook her head and replied, “I don’t have many things but what I do have I am reminded to be grateful for what I have every day.”

Moments passed and they reached the cockpit of the Razor Crest and she sat down in the co-pilot’s seat as they took off he punched in the coordinates and spun around to face her. He is going to hate himself for this, he remembers the endless rules and policies that he followed to ensure that each quarry would end up as a successful job, but something about her is making him soft and he doesn’t understand. “If you are a grown woman, why is your mother so protective of you?” The question slipped past his lips and the woman looked up at him. “She does not care about me, only for what I provide her, I am not blind to that but she is afraid that I may be too naive to be out on my own as she is made me quite aware of all the dangers and nightmares of the galaxy. I practically live in a library, that is how I escaped, I learned how to lockpick from reading a book. She keeps locked up in the basement, it is not a dungeon it is spacious and has lots of books to read and paper for me to draw on, but I feel like I have been made to do something much more.”

Silence fell into a comfortable place between them and the Mandalorian had cocked his head to the side as he listened to her story. He had an urge to help her and not take her back there to her mother. She spoke up again but this time her voice was just above a whisper, “I don’t want to go back to her. She says awful things to me, and she says that she is the only that knows me best and that if I didn’t want to be where I was then I shouldn’t have been born at all,” she pauses and starts to shrink back further back in the chair, “one day she would say she can’t live without me and in the next second say that no one would know if I died in that room. All of her words start to weigh heavy on my mind more than anything else that I know of. Why is that?”

The girl didn’t look up until a hand was placed on her knee and she looked up to see the beskar helmet staring at her, even though she can’t see his face she feels worried energy coming off of him. She lowered her head again and took a shaky breath in to say, “I’m sorry you probably don’t want to hear this. You don’t care, I am sorry to put my worries on you.” There was a pause between them before she heard, “What is your name?”

“My name is (Y/N).”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #star wars #star wars imagine #x reader #bioshock #tangled #fanfiction #reader insert #will anyone see this?#if so thanks for stopping by

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sassycassie-s-writing · 4 years

Text

Batfang

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: T/PG-13

Original Idea: @burkgolden gave me a lot of fantastic inspiration for this one!

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one... really got away from me. Not sorry. Had too much to tell. Also, y’all, this is me we’re talking about. AU’s like this are bound to happen. XD ;-P

@welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

“If you turned Batman into a vampire… could he, like, actually turn into a real bat?” Red Hood asked as he swung through Gotham while I leapt from building to building beside him.

I laughed. “Eventually,” I said. “But it’s a difficult trick to master. Even for Batman… it would probably take at least a few days.”

“How long did it take you?” Red Hood continued.

“A month. And even that was considered fast,” I said.

“Huh.”

Gotham was the best place to be a vampire. It was almost never sunny, overcast reigned supreme, it wasn’t even warm very often.

It was also full of criminals who I could feed off without feeling guilty.

I never killed any of them, but I didn’t feel bad about preying on people who preyed on innocents. If I took 40% of a criminal’s blood every two weeks, I could survive indefinitely in Gotham.

“But Bats is stubborn and really smart. So he’d master it faster?” Red Hood asked.

“Possibly,” I said playfully. “Though you or Damian might even cotton on faster than Batsy, Jason.”

“So how come you’re not flying around Gotham as a bat right now?”

“Because you’re talking and I can’t reply without a human voice box.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault.”

“Yup,” I replied.

Jason laughed. Then cut himself off. A moment later, I heard him sigh. “Got a ping. An alleyway half-a-mile north of here is having a scuffle.”

I tsked. “An alleyway. Always an alleyway,” I muttered. “This is Gotham. They could be mugging someone in broad daylight in the middle of the road and people won’t even be fazed by it.”

“Well… maybe that’s the one level of discretion Gotham criminals have,” Jason joked as we changed direction and started heading north.

Half-a-mile wasn’t far. As I jumped between two buildings, I spun in the air. Black mist surrounded me and my form rearranged itself into that of a bat. I flew after Jason toward the alleyway, following him since he had a HUD inside his helmet with a map. All I knew for certain was the endless amount of human blood pulsing through the city. It was hard for me to pick out locations unless blood had been drawn. Exposed blood was so much more potent than blood safely pumping underneath someone’s skin. Even a single drop.

We made it to the alleyway. Jason dropped off the roof of one of the buildings and parkoured his way down while I swooped, mist surrounding me again and transforming back into my true form, fangs bared and a hiss in my throat.

Gotham knew for a long time that all the Bats and Birds in Batman’s little gaggle of children were 100% human. Then Duke came along. A metahuman. And then, more recently, I joined too. And Gotham learned that one of the Bats was an actual vampire. As a civilian, no one would guess that I wasn’t human, so the Wayne family was still safe from suspicion.

One of the criminals swore. “It’s Hood and Batfang!” The other two whirled, surprised. The victim fell on his backside on the ground.

All three of the criminals opened fire. I heard Jason swear and start evading while I charged straight in, bullets pinging off my skin.

We made quick work of the criminals; subduing them and tying them up. Jason sent the victim inside for safety while I stole a quick drink from one of the criminal’s wrists. Jason politely looked away. He always did. Claimed that he could handle a lot, but drinking blood weirded him out.

I straightened up and turned to Jason with a smile, wiping blood off my lip. Usually I was a clean drinker, but it was hard when the meal struggled against me.

My smile dropped.

Jason was holding his abdomen. The smell of exposed blood—that I’d missed in the heat of battle—filled my nose.

Jason swore and staggered backward.

I ran forward and caught him, lowering him to the ground. “Hood? Hood!” I pleaded. “Stay with me. Stay with me. We’ll… we’ll… we’ll get you help.” My body shuddered as I breathed in the smell of his blood. I’d smelt it before. He bled almost every night. But there was more of it than usual. And the amount increased the potency. “I’ll call an ambulance and—”

“No,” he protested. “Agent A…”

“There’s no time to get all the way there. I have to get you to a hospit—Hood? Red Hood?!”

He’d gone limp in my arms, eyes fluttering closed.

I grabbed his commlink and shoved it in my ear. “Batman!” I exclaimed. “It’s Hood! He took a bullet to the gut. He’s bleeding out. What do I do?”

“Bring him back to HQ. Now.”

I shook my head. “There’s no time. I’ll never make it before he dies. The only way he could survive that long is…” I trailed off.

“Batfang? Batfang? What’s the only way he could survive?”

I released a long, quiet breath, fluttering my loose hairs. “I’ll call you back,” I said, ripping the earpiece out of my ear.

“Batfang? BATFANG!” I heard Batman shouting through the comm, but ignored it.

Carefully, I cupped Jason’s face in one hand. “I love you,” I whispered to him. “I can’t lose you. Don’t hate me. Please.” Leaning down, I inhaled the intoxicating scent of his exposed blood. My body shuddered again as I breathed it in.

I sunk my fangs into his neck.

The microscopic holes at the bottom of each one released a shot of venom into his bloodstream. His whole body tensed and convulsed.

I scooped him up and ran back to the safe house he and I had been sharing for the last year, setting him on the bed and perching next to him. I brushed his bangs out of his face. The white streak he usually kept hidden was grey with grime and sweat.

“Just sleep, darling. It’ll be over soon.”

I started to sob, despite not being able to shed tears.

^^^^^

“Gotham and Blüdhaven are the only places I can feed without feeling guilty,” the vampire girl said to Batman while Jason watched with his arms folded in the shadows.

“Why?”

“Because… preying on people who prey on innocents? That’s kinda their Just Desserts, isn’t it? And for me, well, it’s just… dessert.” She smirked a little to herself, finding her own joke funny.

Batman rolled his eyes at the pun. The girl tensed as though she was about to get punched. But Batman’s fists remained curled at his sides.

“You’re not leaving even if I want you to, are you?”

“All due respect, sir, I can actually turn into a bat. So I think I kinda fit in around here.” She beamed again. “You can call me Batfang. It’s not the best and I’m trying to figure out a better code but I know how to handle myself and feeding off criminals is fine with me. I’ve never killed anyone I’ve fed off before. Not knowingly at least. Maybe when I was a fresh turn I might have gone too far and the poor meal never recovered but fresh turns have the least control.” She paused. “And, also, no. I’m not leaving even if you want me to.”

Jason emerged from the shadows. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” he said. “She’ll be safe with me. I’ll keep her in line.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl. “You think I’m going to trust you with her? That I don’t know your history of crossing the line?”

Jason glared at Batman. “I can keep her in line from either side of the line, Bats,” he snarled.

“Here,” the vampire girl said, pulling a pill capsule out of her bag and delicately holding it. “I keep a few of these on hand. It’s full of vervain. The skin of this thing so much as breaks inside my mouth or stomach and I’m a goner. I imagine with your guys’ skills, it wouldn’t be too difficult to force-feed me one if I step out of line.” She dropped the pill into Jason’s hand and passed another one to Batman.

Her black eyes bored into Batman’s. “Keep me in line,” she said. There was a challenge in her voice that said, “But you won’t need to.”

Jason couldn’t help but smile. He liked her. She was feisty.

^^^^^

Jason woke up to a burning pain in his neck. A dull ache in his abdomen and a toothache reminded him of the shot through the gut he’d sustained. How long had it been? Had everything turned out alright? Had Batfang…?

Oh $#!+—had Batfang gone ballistic? She’d told him once when they first started dating that powerful surges of emotion could cause a vampire to go absolutely berserk and slaughter every human nearby in a frenzy and drain them all dry. Oh man… he hoped she hadn’t gone crazy. Just when she’d been building up a reputation as a feared but respected Gotham vigilante…

The sound of sobbing roused his attention. His senses… they were in overdrive. Like he’d just come off a dose of fear toxin gas. He was aware of the threads underneath his fingers. The light against his eyelids. Something that smelled really good and really strong, but was unfamiliar. She must have cooked something in her endless box of recipes that she’d collected. His mouth tasted like he was recovering from an illness. But the sobbing was the most prominent sensation.

He peeled his eyes open—shielding them as sunlight blinded him—and sat up.

A familiar back in a familiar short, light, thin black cape was curled up in a ball on the other side of the bed, hair brushed over one shoulder. She was shaking. He knew she couldn’t cry, but he forgot all about it as he moved to wrap his arms around her. “B… baby?” His gentle tone seemed loud to him—so he couldn’t imagine how much louder it was to her with her heightened senses. She flinched, recoiling away from him. “Babe what’s wrong?”

Turning, she buried her face in his chest. “I’m so sorry, Jay. I… I couldn’t lose you,” she sobbed.

“Babe, what did you do?” He sounded so sharp.

She reached up and touched his neck. He hissed as the burning pain spiked.

Carefully releasing her so she wouldn’t fall over, he went to the bathroom.

“Uh… baby? Where’s my reflection?” he called. She just sobbed again.

Understanding sunk in. He slumped, bracing his hands against the sink. The marble cracked slightly under his grip.

“You… you turned me,” he said.

“Yes,” she muttered.

“You turned me. Into a vampire.”

“Yes,” she repeated.

Jason let go of the sink and slowly turned around to face her. She was still curled up on the bed, her hair a mess and her black eyes turning red. Both sclera and iris. She kept the black glamour over her eyes when normal people were around because the red tended to freak people out. Though she would let the red through when she was intimidating criminals.

“Why would you do that?” Jason asked.

“I told you—I couldn’t—” She paused to sob. “I couldn’t lose you, darling. I love you.” She curled up tighter. “Please… don’t hate me.”

“Babe… I told you I never wanted to be turned—”

“I know—but it was the only way to keep you from dying! I’m so sorry. I… I damned you!” Once again she dissolved into tears.

Jason shook his head, cursing his bleeding heart for how much he loved her.

^^^^^

Jason crossed from the bathroom back to me, wrapping his arms around me. “We’ll figure this out, babe,” he said quietly. “It’s just… I never wanted this.”

“I know. I know you didn’t. And I never had any intention of turning you. But… you were dying. Stomach wounds are so dangerous and you were already losing too much of it. Your life force was disappearing. I could feel it. You’re… I love you too much. I couldn’t… just let you die. Do you know what my life was like before I met you? It was fifty years of lonely darkness. Of empty interactions and passive acquaintances. I…”

“Wait. Fifty years? How old are you?” Jason demanded.

I met his gaze. The blue of his eyes was already turning muddy amber, turning to red. The first time he tasted human blood, the blue would be completely gone. “Seventy-one. Fifty years of that as a creature of the night. A monster in the darkness. Did I never tell you how old I am?”

“No!” Jason exclaimed.

“Oh yeah. I’m old. Well… I’m just as old as an average elderly person I guess. So I think I’m doing alright as far as aging goes.” I tried to smile but I couldn’t get over the terrible guilt eating me up. I’d directly betrayed Jason’s trust in me—and his wishes regarding his life.

“I think so too,” he said, giving me a squeeze. I burrowed into his side. “Babe… is there a cure for this?”

“Probably. Vampirism, like lycanthropy, is technically a curse—or a disease. There’s probably a way to reverse it.”

“So why didn’t you ever?”

“I don’t want to. I like who I am. Now anyway. I spent the first ten years of this existence loathing myself and despising the monster I’d become. And then one day I just… stopped. I… I realized as the times changed, that I was safe as a vampire. No one could rob me or mug me or hurt me anymore. And there was something incredibly freeing about that. And I embraced it. I learned martial arts and made myself better to defend other people. And that’s how Batfang eventually became a thing. Not until after your Big Bad Bat showed up in Gotham did I decide that a codename and costume might be fun, but I’ve been doing this for a while. But… if you really don’t want to be like me… we’ll find a cure.”

“If we did… would you take it with me? Be human ag—?”

“No,” I said, cutting him off. “I like being the way I am. But I’ll help you find a cure.” I sniffed. “First, though, we have to get you some sustenance. Otherwise you’ll starve to death within a day. But I do have to warn you: your fangs have little tiny holes in the bottom of the points. They’re downright impossible to actually see. Even for us. But that’s where your venom gets injected. You can’t stop your mouth from filling your fangs with venom, but you do have conscious control over releasing it. There’s a tiny bit of venom around your fangs. Not enough to turn a person into a vampire through feeding, but enough to numb the wounds and wipe the memories of the last few minutes from a victim’s mind. The venom inside your fangs is a slightly different chemical composition. It will turn a human into a vampire. So… when you feed, don’t release the venom. We don’t need anymore vampires in Gotham. I promise you that.”

Jason nodded. “Okay. What do we do?”

I met his eyes. “We’ll find a cure for you, darling. I swear to it on my soul that will never make it to heaven. But for now, we’re going hunting.”

#Batfang #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Jason to #jason todd fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood fanfiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction

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waywardnerd67 · 4 years

Text

Fast Cars & Bleeding Hearts Part II

Summary: Charlie speeding back into (Y/N)’s life leaving her mind and heart spinning. Unable to focus on her races costs her, but nothing compares to the thumping ache in her chest watching Charlie winning races. Will she be able to push aside her feelings long enough to win the most important race of the night? Characters: Charlie (OMC), Jessie (OFC), Kyle (OMC), Joel (OMC), Sean aka King (OMC), Reader Pairing: Charlie x Reader / Joel x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 2399 A/N: Once again, Charlie Hunnam starred in my dreams and I am here to continue the story.

Check out: Fast Cars & Bleeding Hearts

(Y/N) let her eyes wander up Charlie’s body. His jeans were hanging low on his narrow hips. His chest and shoulders were broader. Even through his hoodie, she could see his biceps bulging. Charlie had shorter hair now from what she could see under his black ball cap. Then her eyes connected with his, the same deep blue ones she fell in love with when they were teenagers.

“It’s nice to see you again, (Y/N). You look great.” His hand ran over the back of his neck as he smiled at her.

(Y/N) shook her head slightly, “Thanks, you too. What brings you back to town?”

His eyes glanced behind her, “Wow, your car looks great. May I?” he asked, starting to walk past her.

“No,” she reached out pressing her hand against his firm chest, “you gave up the right to look under her hood when you ditched us five years ago. I suggest you get your own car ready because King will be starting soon.”

She turned back towards her car not looking back at the man her heart ached for. The man who disappeared from her life in her weakest moment. (Y/N) heard Kyle talking to Charlie as they walked away. She leaned against her car placing her head down on it when Jessie stood next to her.

“When he first reached out to Kyle, I told him to tell Charlie to fuck off.” (Y/N) looked over to her best friend chuckling.

“Let me guess, he used his charm on you to get you to agree to him having the apartment.” she lifted her head and turned to lean her back against her car.

Jessie shook her head, “No he couldn’t charm me if he tried. Charlie told me where he had been the last five years and why he left. It was time for him to come home.”

(Y/N) scoffed, “Really? What could he have possibly said that justifies him leaving his coma ridden girlfriend?”

“That’s his story to tell, (Y/N). For what it’s worth, I think you should hear him out,” Jessie touched her shoulder, “However, right now you need to focus on kicking ass and winning races.”

(Y/N) laughed, “You’re right. King is going to start soon.”

Race night always began with Sean or as he was known on the streets, King, having a drivers’ meeting. He would go over rules, expectations and then draw for races. Normally she would listen carefully since King was known for changing things up. Tonight, she could not focus on anything but the pair of blue eyes across the drivers’ circle staring at her.

“Alright, looks like our first race will be (Y/N) and Ronan. Y’all have twenty minutes to get to the line.” King dismissed them.

(Y/N) watched as Charlie walked over to King having an intense conversation. It was only when someone tapped her on the shoulder that she looked away. Kyle was standing next to her and she gave him a gentle shove with her shoulder.

“I know you hate him and I know you want answers. For now, push it aside and focus on the road in front of you.” Kyle’s calm voice brought her mind to focus clearly.

She gave him a short nod before walking alongside him to her car. Exactly twenty minutes later, (Y/N) was revving her car on the starting line. Ronan next to her with his ‘87 Camaro z28 which was nearly five hundred pounds lighter than her Chevelle. She turned back towards the road in front of her when her eyes went wide seeing who was flagging the race.

Charlie stood in between them about six feet up. A flashlight in his right hand and his blue eyes on her. (Y/N) was even more surprised to see sympathy in his eyes right before he flashed his light signaling for them to go. Being focused on Charlie caused her to be slow off the line. She lost to Ronan by half a car length which was not too bad, but if she had been focused she could have won.

Driving back to her trailer, she parked taking off her helmet, “Shit!” she yelled opening the door.

“What happened?” Kyle asked as Corey popped the hood of her car.

(Y/N) spotted Ronan making his way over for the two hundred dollars they had bet. Walking up into her trailer she grabbed their money box to get the money.

“Off your game tonight, (Y/N).” He said holding his hand out.

She slapped the two bills in his hand, “I guess your lucky night. I’ll get that back from you soon, Ro.”

He walked off laughing while she walked back to her car. Kyle and Corey were looking over the data on his computer.

“King is fucking with me, isn’t he?” she asked when her friends looked over to her.

Kyle nodded, “You knew he would. You’ve taken a lot of money off his guys and now he sees a way to make the playing field even.”

“When’s my next race?” (Y/N) pulled her hood on her head and grabbed her headphones from her purse.

Corey looked up at her, “At least a half-hour. I wouldn’t tune anything on the car so she’s ready.”

She gave them a thumbs up then started to walk down the path towards the entrance they all came in. There were only King’s watchers out there keeping an eye out for cops. (Y/N) pulled out her phone turning on her favorite playlist. Her favorite band blared into her ears calming her instantly. She loved it when they would race out here. The night sky was cloudless which meant the stars were shining bright. Letting out a long breath seeing it in front of her, (Y/N) began to walk back towards her car.

The night was turning out to be a bust. No matter how hard she tried, Charlie flagging her races were too distracting. Every race she was up against one of King’s drivers. After her third loss, she stormed off to confront King about it. Kyle and Corey hot on her trail.

“King!” she called out as she approached his trailer.

Sean was a larger than life kind of guy. He was nearly a foot taller than she was and a round belly that was usually hidden under a baggy t-shirt. She never had an issue with him until one night his drivers kept challenging her to races and she took all their money. It was all fair and square which was the way King ran all his races, but apparently he does hold grudges.

“(Y/N), what can I do for you?” he said, stepping out of his trailer with a smug smile on his face.

“Well you could start by stop fucking with my races.” She stood with her hands on her hips staring right up at him.

His eyes flashed with anger for a moment, “You’re accusing me as messing with your races. Why would I ever do that?”

Before she could say anything a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist pulling her back. She watched as Kyle and Corey started to talk to King as she was being dragged away.

“Hey! Get off me!” she yelled trying to break free from whomever had her.

A familiar raspy voice had her body stiffening, “(Y/N), shut up before King decides to do something rash.”

Charlie let go of her and she whirled around with her fist connecting with his jaw, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

Charlie chuckled, rubbing his jaw, “Damn… forgot about your killer right hook.”

“Is your life’s mission to make my life a living hell?” she asked, pushing him as hard she could.

“Of course not, (Y/N). I don’t want to do this, but I have too whatever King says. It’s part of my agreement to be back here. And you know what?” He pulled her closer to him, leaning in until their noses were almost touching.

She sucked in a breath, “W-What?” she whispered.

“It’s all worth it to be able to see you again, pretty girl.” His lips pressed against hers making her head spin.

“(Y/N)?”

She pulled away hearing her name only to come face to face with her boyfriend, Joel, eyes wide in shock. (Y/N) looked between the two men in front of her. Her mind urged her to run and her body gave in to that urge as she ran past them both. Each of them called out her name but she did not stop running until she was at her trailer again.

Jessie was talking with Kyle when (Y/N) got there, “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Joel. Charlie.” she said in between gulps of air.

Kyle grabbed a hold of her shoulders, “We’ve got bigger problems than that right now. King wants you and Charlie to be the last race. A thousand dollars on the line and that will be the last of our cush fund.”

Her body shook and she felt as if she would pass out, “I-I can’t.”

Kyle helped her over to a chair in the trailer while Jessie grabbed her a water bottle, “Look I know a lot of shit is going down, but we need this win. I don’t know what Charlie’s deal is with King but he won’t throw the race. We need you to win.”

(Y/N) took a long drink from the bottle nodding, “Okay. Okay. Let’s make some adjustments to the car because we know Charlie has got some power under his hood.”

Ten minutes later, (Y/N) was pulling up to the starting line where Charlie’s cherry red Chevelle was already there. He was looking straight ahead gripping his steering wheel tightly. One of King’s drivers was flagging the race and she turned her eyes to the road ahead of her.

“When you’re on the line don’t look anywhere but the finish line. The people around you, the driver next to you means nothing. The only thing that matters is crossing that finish line first.” Charlie’s words from when they raced together echoed in her mind.

Focusing on the quarter mile in front of her as soon as she saw the flashlight shine, she pressed her foot to the accelerator taking off like a bullet. Everything blurred around her as she kept her car steady in a straight line. A speck of red creeping up on her right side as the finish line came into view. Pressing her foot down further trying to edge out Charlie the finish line flashed beneath them as both their chautes popped out.

Both cars stopped and they each took off their helmets. Looking to one another a wide smile was mirrored across their faces as they got out of their cars. (Y/N) jumped into his arms as he spun her around.

“Damn pretty girl, that is the best race I’ve had in a long time!” Charlie put her feet back on the ground, his arms keeping her against him.

“Yeah it was even if King will make it to where he gets the money.” She tried to take a step back, but Charlie held her closer, “Charlie…”

“I know. Your boyfriend gave me an ear full. I just want you to hear my side of what happened that night. I will keep my distance out of respect for your boyfriend, but I… I can’t leave here tonight without this.” His lips crashed against hers.

Time froze in that moment and it was just the two of them together. All the anger and resentment she had for him vanished. Her hands found their way up into his soft blond hair. A low groan rumbling from his chest as his hands slid down to her hips. Just as quickly their kiss started, Charlie broke away stepping away from her.

“Boyfriend or not, I’m here to stay,” he stepped closer his lips near her ear, “and you’re worth the wait pretty girl.”

Charlie stepped past her getting back in his car and driving back to the starting line. (Y/N) stood there her mind wildly trying to process everything that happened. She quickly got back into her car, making her way back to the starting line where everyone was waiting. Pulling up, she found Kyle, Corey and King looking at a computer screen.

Parking her car, she walked up to them just as Charlie was, “What’s going on?”

“It was too close to call so they’re reviewing the footage.” Jessie explained coming to stand beside her.

(Y/N) glanced over to her, “Where’s Joel?” she whispered.

Jessie nodded towards their trailer, “Back there. He didn’t want to watch the race.”

“We clearly have a winner.” King announced.

Seeing Kyle and Corey’s faces told (Y/N) everything she needed to know. Just as she assumed, King announced Charlie the winner by a bumper. Corey was cursing under his breath as he handed her the money. She walked over to King and Charlie handed him the money.

“Good race. I’ll win this back soon.” she said as she held her hand out to him.

Charlie shook her hand holding onto it tightly, “I’m sure you will.” he winked at her before letting go of her hand.

Walking away from him was hard for (Y/N) but she looped her arm with Jessie’s making her way back to her car to pack it up for the night. Joel was standing beside the truck talking with Kyle while Corey finished packing up their stuff.

“Give me a ride home, handsome?” she asked, bumping his shoulder with hers.

“Yeah, I think we have a lot to talk about.” Joel started walking toward his car as Kyle gave her sympathetic squeeze on her shoulder.

Her and Joel drove in silence for a while until he pulled off to a rest area. There was no one around and they were still an hour from being home.

She turned in her seat towards him, “You’re not going to murder me out here?” she joked.

Joel shook his head not looking at her, “Tell me everything about Charlie. Don’t leave anything out including your feelings for him. Then, we can decide if this relationship is worth keeping for either of us.”

Tagging: @maddiepants (because she read the last one lol)

#original fiction #dreams into fiction #not spn

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