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#and before that I hadn’t even considered the ship but as soon as I saw it I was like ‘op...your brain.. humongous’
thefandomdirtymind · 6 months
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Hello! I saw your post you're open for a request and I was wondering if I could I have OPLA Sanji?
About Sanji fall in love towards reader but reader was hesitate and unsure if Sanji is being sincere it's like she's having trust issues since Sanji is considered a ladies' man or flirty and was afraid he'll broke her heart?
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A/N IMPORTANT:  Hey, thank you for your request Anon ! I had to confess that it was kind of a hard one for me because well...trust issu hit close from home and I just start to write that angst even if it was not my specialty, but I really like the result and I hope you will too !
Trust Issues
OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji
Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon
* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.
Love wasn’t your cup of tea. Sure, the idea of a partner supporting and adoring you like you deserve was cute. But, in your opinion, you have already done enough. After all, your last relationship has resulted as becoming a pirate and being abandoned by your lover to save his ass. And, If the humiliation hadn’t been enough, not long after your escape for the marines, you had seen him parading with his new lady wrapped around his arm. Like if you hadn’t existed at all.
So, nobody could blame you if you had some trust issues and an aversion for ladie’s man.
It’s why you knew the minute you saw his smile what Vinsmoke Sanji was : A pretty flirt. 
If it was only you, you had refused his presence on the ship, but, like Luffy had said, the Going Merry needed a cook and the man was a hell of a fighter. As the morning came, you couldn’t also deny the fact that he looked incredibly good in his suit, his bag on his shoulder, ready to come aboard. Smiling at the instant he spotted you. 
“ Hello Madam, I'm glad we met again. Can I say that you seem even more beautiful in this sunlight” He offered, from the dock, as you were sitting on the main deck rail adjusting a rope. 
“ You may, but it doesn't mean I will accept the compliment. Luffy is on the upper deck if you search him” You coldly replied, trying to shut down your traitor heart. You will not fall for another pretty face, never. 
“ I didn’t expect much Madam, thank you for the information “ Sanji replied, his mood in nothing affected by your coldness. Sure, he had hoped for a warmer welcome, but after serving you the night before and found himself unable to turn his gaze away from your beauty. He was satisfied with just being part of the same crew as you, the rest would come later he had assumed. 
It took, in fact, way longer than he first thought. For the entire few weeks he had been on board, you hadn’t looked or talked to him except to thank him for the food or urgent matters. 
Many times, the crew had tried to talk to you, asking you to be more nice with Sanji. But, even if you could feel his charm often softened your shield, your stubbornness was even stronger. 
It wasn’t easy for Sanji either. He knew you clearly disliked him without knowing why. When, on his part, the more he was admiring you, watching you laugh with the others, hearing your brilliant plan, watching you gracefully climb the cordage and being as stubborn as him. Make him love you even more. Everyday, he was trying to charm you, offering you compliments, taking an interest in what you were doing or simply making you the best food he could. But, nothing worked, you answered him quickly and as coldly as always.  
It'll take another two months and a storm before Sanji has enough. 
The rain was falling for hours,helped by a wind so strong that you had to close one of the sails to avoid drifting away. Each two hours or so, the members of the crew were making a rotation, trying as much as possible to not fatigue themself too much and end up falling into the water. 
You were the only one still standing, drenched by the cold rain, your muscles sore by the force necessary to keep the helm stable. Multiple times Nami and Usopp had tried to push you to take a rest or at least eat something warm, but each time you refused resolutely, you would pass that storm and rest after. 
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji was finishing his soup, preparing three bowls for the crew member who will come downstairs to take their rest. As he prepared himself for going upstairs, doing his part, the blond chef saw Nami and Usopp going down the stairs, alone. You aren’t with them, again. 
“ Where Y/N ” He asked, already knowing the answer.
“ She refuses to budge of the helm. we tried to talk to her but it’s like talking to a rock” Nami replied, wrapping herself in a big towel.
“ I’ll come back, I will bring her here “ Sanji only replied, his happy mood now sour. It wasn’t rare in the time who’s he was running the restaurant with Zeff that he lost his temper. He had lost it already a time or two during battle, but against another member of the crew,it was a first. 
Making his way to the helm, he looked at you, already knowing it will not be easy. But, to be sure you’re in security, he was ready to fight you if he had to. 
“ Y/N, your time has long passed, I will replace you. I prepared a dry towel and warm soup in the kitchen. Go take some rest “ He first tried. 
“ I’m not tired or hungry “ You simply replied with your gaze focused on the horizon. 
“ Then I’m afraid I have to excuse myself Darling “ Profiting from an adjustment of your position, he then proceeds to lift you on his shoulder, easily dodging all your attacks, as he was getting you down in the ship to dry both of you. 
“ How dare you ! “ You scream, shaking of rage and cold. As he sits you on one of the kitchen stools and throws a dry towel at you. “ I was perfectly fine !”
“ You were on a trip to catch death ! “Sanji replied sharply, his gaze dark and his wet form in a stiff posture with anger “ I don’t know what I exactly did to make you dislike me like that, but I can care for you if you do some stupid things like that ! “
“ Then just don’t care about me and go flirt somewhere else !!” You angrily answered.
Taken aback, Sanji tilted his head, frowning his eyebrow, clearly confused. 
“ Wait…what…You dislike me…because I flirted with you ?“ He slowly asked, trying to understand your point. 
“ I just don’t understand why you haven't given up yet ! I had already done with the damn flirty kind, go charm your other ladies and leave me alone ! “ 
" My other…” Sanji starts disbelief. “ I don’t give up because I care for you…stubborn woman! " Sanji tried to say. Never had he thought that it was his manner that you hated so much. " But if my affection isn't required, fine, eat and rest, that's all I ask " He sighs ,disappearing upstairs. 
A long and heavy silence fell in the kitchen after he left, leaving you with a curiously heavy heart and some concerned  gaze of Nami and Usopp eating their soup. After a while, you sigh, defeated and take yourself a bowl. As always, the dish was perfectly balanced and delicious.
" You know y/n...I know your story, I understand, I do.  But…Sanji didn't flirt with any woman aside from you for months…I think he genuinely likes you, " Nami softly spoke. "Of course I'm not you and you have all the right to act like you do, but it’s not Sanji's fault. He’s not him… and I think the day he will stop caring for you, you will realize it’s will be maybe too late”.
“ Maybe “ You admit, finishing your food before leave it into the sink and heading to the door” I will sleep a little, wake me up when it will be our turn again please “ 
But she never woke you up and when you opened your eyes, the sun was shining again on another day. 
Sanji wasn’t the kind of man who'd give up easily, neither on his dream nor on the people he loved. But, even with his flirty tendency, respecting women and their wishes was a priority. It’s why, even if it cost him and that your word had wounded him, on that sunny day, he started to restrict at the minimum his attention to you. 
And you noticed it immediately. His gaze on you, usually full of affection, was now more distant, he didn’t ask you if you had slept well, nor if you would like something in particular for breakfast, he simply put an omelet in front of you, smiled politely and returned to his occupation. Yes, for Sanji it was odd, but, as a ladie’s man you give him a week before going back to his old habit. 
Luckily for you, life decided to give both of you a hand.
Your estimation could never be more wrong. After two weeks of polite but cold Sanji, you were almost wishing you never had that fight. Your traitor heart was missed his radiant smile toward you, his compliments for every little detail of your person or the way he  tried to know every one of your favorite things. But you had broken it and you were now unsure how to repair it. Excuse could probably do the charm, but your stubbornness was always blocking you, estimating that protecting your heart wasn't shameful. 
The Going Merry was anchored alongside an island, doing his needed resupply. As the last barrel had been brought on board, you followed the idea of Zoro and decided to join your companions for a drink at the little bar on the beach.
But, as you put your foot in the small place, you froze, your mind resuming to a static white noise. Your ex, already another lady at his arm, was installed with his crew at the largest table of the little tavern.  
“ Hey Y/N come here, that table is free ! “ Luffy exclaimed, not noticing your stiffness.
“ Y/N is that you ! Damn girl, I haven't seen you since you were surrounded by Marines ! I own you for this one, how did you escape ?! “ The despicable man shouted, clearly more happy to see you, than you were to see him. “ Darla, that girl was... my most loyal crew member. “He explained to the girl at his side “Look at you, have you always been that pretty ? “ 
The compliment was the last straw that snapped you out of your shock. How could he talk to you so casually after all you had endured because of him. Doesn’t he have an ounce of regret or shame ?!
“ I escaped on my own after you had cowardly abandoned me ! “ You replied, as Sanji placed himself behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder in support.
“ Y/N, that man clearly doesn’t deserve your time, come, the drink will arrive soon” He tried, giving a hard look at the pathetique Captain who was now coming a you, his hand scratching his hair, gauging if Sanji was a menace for his future plan with you or not. 
“ Not deserving of his time, I had already two years of her time mate, go sip your beer and let us discuss. Y/N and I have many things to talk about. I haven’t abandoned her, I knew she could escape, she’s a smart cat. Aren't you Sweet pea” 
“ I have nothing to say to you, thank you Sanji but I’m not in the mood. Being in the same room as him would suck all the joy I have. I will be on the ship. “ You simply replied, making your exit before tears ran down your cheeks. 
Sat on the upper deck, watching the night sky, the fresh wind drying your last tears, you saw Sanji came back onboard. Without a word, he simply sat beside you and offered you the bottle he was keeping in his hand.
“ Zoro sent his regards and I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry. I had tried to respect your wish, but I couldn’t stop myself tonight. I can’t not care for you and that man was...he shouldn’t ever treat a lady as you like that. Maybe now he had learn “
“ Sanji, what did you do? “ You asked, strangely touched that he had actually take your defense even after you had left. 
“ I kicked his pathetic and disgraceful ass. I couldn’t tolerate the way he was looking at you, talking to you...But I understand now how my behavior led you to dislike me when I arrived, But I assure you that…” 
“ I know, “ You said your heart, still fragile, beating faster.” You aren’t him and I should have waited to know you. I was scared, I didn’t want to like you because I was afraid to repeat the same story. But even if I tried, I realize when you had stop to caring for me that I miss it, I missed you…a lot“ 
Suddenly unusually shy, his cheeks a slightly shade of faded pink in the dark, Sanji avoided your gaze, a joyful smile spreading on his lips.
“ I suggest that we start over. We can't forget all those months but we can restart our relationship.I can’t wait to truly know you Y/N” He tell, finally planting in gaze in yours, that lost spackles in his eyes, the one you though forever vanish, back even brighter that ever. 
“ I can’t wait too, Sanji “ You softly smile. 
___
Your first kiss with Sanji happened a little shorter than a month later. At exactly the same spot. 
Since that night, you have made a habit of watching the sky together, sharing stories, passions and thoughts. Even if the blond cook, not without surprise, seems to find the constellation less appealing than your sweet view at his side. But, you slowly adapted yourself to his flirting and even often replied, to his joy. 
It was in one of those moments, as you turned your head to point to him a group of stars that Sanji captured your lips, answering your heart's deepest desire from months and even probably since the tall man had put a foot on the deck. 
Somewhere on the lower level of the ship, you hear the playful screams and wolf whistles of your friends. But, as he captured your lips for another kiss you couldn't care less. You had an amazing group of friends, the sea was peaceful and with the help of Sanji, your heart finally started to heal.  
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ohtobeleah · 1 year
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NCIS // Bradley Bradshaw
Summary: Bradley Bradshaw knows when his soon to be wife shows up randomly on Friday evening at the Hard Deck it can’t be good. But just how bad could things really be, right?
Warnings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x NCIS reader. Angst, Fluff. A little bit of action.
Word Count: 8.2k
Author Note: I’m glad you all had such a positive response to this idea. Here’s a one shot to say thank you for being absolute legends. Might even be open to doing more if this does well.
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“What’s got you all twisted?” Rooster smirked as he watched Hangman glare down the pool table. Missing his shot by a mile. The usual confidence ridden aviator had seemingly shrunk into a hermit style shell for the last half an hour or so. Rooster had walked in half way through the game. Settling into his surroundings with a beer and a side of fries on the way.
Hangman didn’t even bother with a response, simply ignoring the question all together as he lined up another shot at redemption.
“Oh he tried to make a move on the civ sitting at the bar—she really knocked him down a peg.” Javy tried to hide his content. He always enjoyed when his best friend learnt a lesson or two. Not everyone was obsessed with Jake Hangman Seresin—and quite frankly? Sometimes he needed to be humbled. And humble Hangman you did indeed.
“Which one?” Rooster asked as he turned around, his eyes immediately landing on you as you sat by yourself. Content with the beer in front of you. Clearly working a case. “You know what? Never mind—I already have a gut feeling.” Finishing the rest of the beer Hangman had so graciously ordered last round, Rooster really did try and play it cool as he took strides to get to you. Trying to bury the fact if he had to he’d move goddamn mountains to get to you. His best friend. His fiancé. None of the team knew about Bradley Bradshaw's love life. He hadn’t found the right time to introduce you to the squad. His colleagues, friends. He was trying to, honestly. But with your line of work? It was becoming increasingly hard to pin you down.
As Rooster made his way over to you by the bar. Pushing past people who got in his way absentmindedly—you spotted him. Sending him a smirk that he’d missed seeing in person. FaceTime just didn’t do your beauty justice. Looking at your fiancé so helplessly stunned for only a split second before you forced yourself to remain calm. Rooster thought back to the first time he met you.
You hated being on carriers. For an NCIS agent, being aboard was a big part of your job description. It was something that couldn't be avoided, although you really did try. It wasn't that you weren't good on ships or got nauseous from the motion of the ocean, no. It was something far less exhilarating than throwing up at any given moment in front of whoever had fallen victim to the sight of your breakfast, lunch and or dinner making a quick escape.
It was the fact you never knew where on earth you were fucking going. And that really sucked.
Bradley Bradshaw had seen you going around in circles for the last forty five minutes. He’d been watching you from a distance. First he saw you when he was going over his Super Hornet. Checking its systems, the landing gear, the tags. All the good stuff. Then he saw you in the galley, looking confused and almost overwhelmed with the amount of crew that had filled in for dinner. And the last time Rooster saw you before he decided enough was enough? Was when he saw you heading down towards the engine room… What the hell were you doing? Were you–lost?
“Ma’am you aren’t lost are you?” Bradley Bradshaw considered himself a confident man when it came to talking to women, but for a moment you made it hard to formulate another sentence when you turned around to face him. Completely knocking the wind out of him with the way you looked so helplessly stunned. “Because if you are, I'm more than happy to help.” Yep. That was the moment Bradley Bradshaw knew he wanted you in his life.
“I'm good, thanks.” Shrugging the sailor off, it wasn't that you didn't want help. You just had too much pride to admit you were in fact. Lost. Rooster watched with an all knowing smirk as you turned around, heading straight to what he knew to be a deadend towards the laundry room. Unless that was what you had been looking for the entire time? Bradley knew you would have to pivot your way back past him. Opting to stay put, leaning against the hull with his arms crossed waiting for you to make your appearance.
Which you inevitably had to do because you were fucking lost. Sending the sailor with the cute smirk a look when you met him back where he stood originally. Stopping right next to Bradley as he smirked down at you. All Knowing.
“Okay, so maybe I am lost.” He smelt of pear and freesia. The delectable fresh scent that could be bottled and sold. It reminded you of home. “I'm looking for my room, 507.” Bradley raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Had you been wondering the entirety of the carrier trying to look for the dorms and bunks and hadn’t bothered to stop and ask a single soul for help. “The captain said my stuff had already been dropped off but I'm so disorientated.”
“First time on a carrier ma’am?” Rooster asked kindly as he walked with you in the complete opposite direction to where you had originally been going. Huh, you really were lost.
“Would you believe me if I said no?” Rooster chuckled quietly to himself at your response. “No, I do this more often than not, I should be used to this whole, ant hill.” You tried to explain as you walked side by side, not really in a hurry to get where you were going. Rooster couldn't have known you were NCIS. You were just in your blue jeans, white T and oversized corduroy jacket. There was nothing about you that screamed, ‘Hey I’m a federal agent, stop drop and put your damn hands up.’ “But I do prefer frigates, the occasional patrol boat.”
“So what brought you aboard the HMAS Carlton?” Rooster wasn’t expecting the answer you gave him. From time to time the Navy would accompany researchers and scientists to remote islands, he just assumed perhaps you were the latest one. But no.
“Uh, I’m here making sure that Clarence Diver who was stung by that group of Irukandji jellyfish was just that.” There were some suspicious toxins found in his bloodstream. “I’m Special Agent Y/n Gibbs with the NCIS.” Oh my fucking Christ Rooster was sure he was going into cardiac arrest. Why did you have to be NCIS? “Nice to meet you—“ Clearing your thirst as you paused in your stride. Sticking your hand out to shake the sailors hand who’d stopped to help you.
“Uh Bradley ma’am, Bradley Bradshaw.” Rooster stuck his hand out to meet yours. “Everyone calls me Rooster—“ You weren’t sure when Rooster had dropped your hand, or when you had started walking again. But you had. Side by side.
“Let me guess, you some kinda of cadet? A semen perhaps?” This was Rooster's first posting on a carrier. He was fresh out of the academy and had been abroad for six months. You had a glint in your eye, something worth exploring even though the idea of pursuing a Naval Criminal Investigation Agent scared the ever living Christ out of him.
“I uh—I fly an F-18 Agent Gibbs, I’m a Naval Aviator.” He was so proud of himself. I mean who else was around to be proud of him? So he had to be, for his own sanity. Stopping right in front of the door that read 507. “Guess this is where I leave you—“ news flash, it wasn't. Instantly smitten by the way you softly nodded in response. Pressing your lips together with a small frown.
“Yeah I guess it is huh?” Silence lingered for a moment as you worked up the courage to ask Rooster to hang around. Making up a totally fabricated but believable excuse he’d later find out was all so you could spend a little more time with him. “But now I’ve got no idea how to get back to the galley and I seem to have a pretty good tour guide.”
“Special Agent Gibbs, what on earth are you doing here?” Rooster taunted your official title as he slung his arm around your shoulders. Slumped over the bar as your eyes scanned the bar like a Hawk. “Heard you put Hangman in his place?”
“What the hell is a Hangman?” Your hand came up to grab Roosters softly, your thumb softly working to massage his palm. Turning your head to gently leave a subtle yet lingering kiss on his knuckles. “Oh wait—“ You remembered from conversations you’d had with Bradley in the past. “He’s the guy right, the super cocky one?” Clicking your fingers and squeezing your eyes tight as you tried to place a name to a call sign. “Jack, No—Jake!” Beaming, Bradley kissed your temple.
The sight of Bradshaw and you hitting it off so well sent Jake into a fit. Until he realised you must have been the girl Rooster had been talking about after the uranium mission. The one he wasn’t going to let get away.
“Woah look at you go detective, case closed in a whole minute.” Bradley taunted as he stood beside your barstool. “But seriously, as good as it is to see you here—you can’t be here for something good, it’s Friday baby—“ It was true. Usually wherever you ended up in the United States or on any US naval vessel didn’t usually come with good tidings. The Hard Deck in Miramar was no exception to that rule.
“You know that body that washed up about a week ago a few clicks up the beach?” You mumbled into the neck of your beer bottle as you brought it to your lips. Taking a small sip. “Intelligence believes the man responsible for that is here—and of course where else is there to go in Fraightertown but the most popular hang out point?”
“And you didn't bother to let me know you were coming?” Rooster teased as his hand slipped up your side, featherlike. Leaving goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingertips. “Could’ve used the heads up.”
“Why? Need a change of pants, Lieutenant?’ It was the way you implied you so easily got Rooster where he needed to be that had his head spinning. You weren't wrong and he surely was feeling a little more restricted. But how could he not be when you were looking so fine. “Pretty sure I've got a pair of tracksuit pants in my carry on that might fit–might be pushing it though.” Winking as you took another sip of your beer. “Think they're grey even–” Roosters hand brushed against your hip. His eyes widened quickly at the realisation. Holy shit you were packing?
“You don’t have a gun in here do you?” Patting your shoulders, Bradley let his hands travel down your back, your gun Halsted. “Shit—you can’t bring a gun in here!!” Rooster's eyes bugged out of his head even more as he sat down beside you on the empty bar stool. “You gonna pepper the place or something? what the hell!” Guns always made Rooster a little uneasy and uncomfortable. But you were still caught up on his first statement.
“You know I’m a federal agent right?” Reminding your soon to be husband of your career choice. “I can bring a gun anywhere I damn please—“ Not that you would, but the idea that you could always did something weird to Rooster. Mentally and sexually.
“You scare the shit out of me.” He should have corrected himself, it wasn’t you that scared him. It was your damn job. Everyone he’d ever met had always told him what he did for a living had to be frightening. But you? Something about the way you so effortlessly did your job without a care in the world, blasé and effective? That scared Rooster. That was terrifying.
“Then leave me to do my job.” Rooster wrapped his leg around one of the legs of your bar stool. Dragging you closer to where he sat. He needed to be closer, needed you closer. “Rooster, honey—I’m in the middle of something here.” You played it off that Rooster was being an annoyance, but really? You loved the cat and mouse dynamic you always had. Loved him with all your heart.
“You got back up in here?” Bradley’s voice softened as his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Drinking in the sight of you. It was out of worry that he asked, a deep rooted concern for your well-being. “I’m not leaving this stool if you don’t have back up.”
“DiNozzo is by the jukebox.” Tilting your head Dinozzo’s way Bradley followed the direction you had pointed him in. A small wave of peace lapping at his heart. “I’m fine Roo, you don’t have to worry about me—“ You were about to mention the van out the front that held more agents, but Rooster didn't let you finish before he was interrupting.
“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning in closer to kiss your forehead as you ducked to hide your smirk. Cheeks heating with the love that flooded your system. “Worry about you all the time.”
You and Rooster had been together for a total of three weeks when he first got a real glimpse into just how dangerous your job could really be. How it so easily threatened to take you away from him. He’d been called to TopGun. An elite school for the top one percent of pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to ensure that the handful of men and women who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world.
As Rooster went about his day, training exercise after the other—Admirial Bates was calling him down with urgency.
“Theres someone on the line for you calling from the Veterans affair’s medical centre—“ Rooster couldn’t place that hospital geographically until Warlock continued. “Seems as though your a registered emergency contact for a Y/n Gibbs?” Washington, that’s where the Veterans affairs hospital was.
“Uh—yeah.” Rooster couldn’t think straight. “I'm clear for landing?” He asked range control before he made any effort to turn around. With a confirmed green light Rooster headed in. He was in the administration building of the base in no time. His chest panting. A thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Panic rising to the surface as he held the phone to his ear.
“This is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw—“
“Hi Bradley, I’m just calling to let you know we’ve had a miss Gibbs present to the emergency department with a bullet wound to her left thigh—“ Rooster swore he forgot how to breathe as his knuckles went white as the sheer hip he held around the phone. “She’s had to go in for surgery but we’re incredibly hopeful it’s a set standard procedure, just need to remove some of the shrapnel that broke apart.”
“Can you get her to call me when she’s out?” All he wanted to do was hear your voice. “Is she okay?” When did he start crying? Why were his cheeks wet? Blinking away the tears that still threatened to spill over his waterline.
“Absolutely—” The admin assistant chuckled to herself, remembering how reluctant you’d been. “She walked herself in very reluctantly.” Rooster rolled his eyes at the thought of you not taking care of yourself. Of fucking course you’d shug this off as no big deal. “An older man brought her in, signed as Anthony DiNozzo?” That checked out, he’d been your partner since you transferred to your dads division. “Shes in good spirits and good hands, should be out shortly–ill get her to give you abuzz when she's out and feeling a little less dazed.”
That's exactly what the nurse had done. Once you were feeling up to it you called Bradley from your cell. Sitting alone in your hospital room–they wanted to keep you in overnight for observation. You understood, but home just seemed like a much better place to be. Besides, you still had work to do.
“Are you alright? What the hell happened!?” Rooster bellowed into his phone as he sat on the bench in the locker room, he was just finishing up for the day.
“Hi baby, nice to hear your voice too–” You taunted with a slight groan as you tried to move your leg out from under the lightweight blanket. “Im fine, just need to work on my reflexes a little.”
“You were shot Y/n I think you need to work on more than your reflexes, perhaps your proximity to people who want to kill you?” Rooster didn't mean to snap at you, he was just worried. “Since when am I your emergency contact anyway? I thought it would have been your dad or something?”
“Well I mean if you don't wanna be I can change it?” Your tone had softened as you looked down at your leg, wondering how differently this conversation would have been going if that bullet had hit you somewhere else. Or if this conversation would be happening at all. “I just thought you might wanna be.”
“No I do–” Bradley paused for a moment as he swallowed the lump in his chest. “I just worry about you.” He knew that when he first met you you were only a rooky, that you'd get assigned mundane cases that weren't all that life threatening and serious. Like the Irukandji jellyfish guy who'd been doing drugs onboard the Carlton. But as the years went on and you gained more confidence and experience, the less and less you were assigned the meek role of crossing T’s and dotting i’s. You were a full blown field agent and until the moment Bradley Bradshaw got the call to say you'd been injured? He hadnt really put alot of thought into it. “I guess I just never really thought enough about how dangerous your job had become.”
“Says the one who's currently learning the art of aerial combat and defensive manoeuvres.” Yep, you had him there. Rooster knew his job was dangerous, he’d learnt to accept that a long time ago, as did you. Even when you had just been close friends you had to accept the fact Bradley might get deployed somewhere and not come home. But yours had kinda crept up on him. He’d never had to process that kind of worry before. Never knew how gut wrenching the feeling could be. He now knew what his mother had meant when the sick feeling just never really went away. The constant fear that lived rent free in the back of her mind about his dad, about him. “Listen Bradshaw, I'm fine– you don't gotta worry about me.”
“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning his back against his locker willing the moment he could wrap his arms around you to come sooner. He’s asked Admiral Bates for a compassionate leave of absence to go be with you. But he was told unless someone was dead or dying he could very much forget that he even asked. “I’ll worry about you all the time.”
“I can assure you, I know what I'm doing, Bradshaw.” Sitting back upright as you pulled away, finishing the rest of your beer in one final swig. “DiNozzo I can't quite speak on behalf of.” Your tone confused as your eyes followed the direction he was hastily walking, following a man across the length of the Hard Deck. Hot on his tail. His hand going to ghost his holster as he pushed past people who flocked in his way. “Oh fuck hang on–” Jumping to your feet in an instant as you watched the man DiNozzo had identified as Bodmin wrap his arm around the neck of one of the Naval Aviators sitting peacefully at one of the round tables. Rooster felt sick to his stomach as he stood, unable to comprehend what was going on. What had poor Bob done to be brought into this. Dragged to his feet as his hands came up to grasp the man's forearms. A gun to his temple quickly escalated the situation ten fold. “NCIS DROP YOUR WEAPON!!” Shouting as you drew your weapon from your hoster, holding it at eye height. “I said drop your weapon!!” Jake Seresin had been taken aback by only a few things in his life– this? Oh this took the goddamn cake. Bradshaw with an NCIS Agent? Never in a million years did he think that man had that kinda game.
“I DIDN'T KILL THAT MAN–” Bob swore he saw his life flash before his very eyes as he stood trapped between you and the man who had him by the next with the barrel of his gun pressing against his temple. Fear evident in his eyes. “I DIDN'T HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.” Well of course you did? Why else would you pull a gun out in the middle of a heavily populated bar and take a person hostage? Your inner thoughts didn’t match your next sentence, you needed to gain this guy's trust before there was brain matter splattered across the nice hardwood floor that probably had some historical value to it.
“That's great man, really–why don't we just have a bit of a chat about it, yeah?” Trying to deescalate the situation the best you could as you took a single step forward. Slowly and every so carefully. “I mean if you weren't involved you're pretty much a free man, why ruin that shooting this guy huh?” Rooster wanted to reach out and grab you. Stop you from getting any closer, fighter every fibre of his being that told him to protect you. His eyes welled with tears, mixing with fear and adrenaline as he turned his head slightly to where Hangman and Coyote stood in complete stillness—both trying just as hard as Rooster to comprehend the situation unfolding.
Shit like this didn’t happen at the fucking Hard Deck.
“I don’t fucking trust you!” You could very much tell this guy was losing his mind. Quickly. Making a rash decision to gain his trust immediately. Rooster watched from behind as you put your hands up in surrender. Your finger pushing the safety on your handgun before the clip fell to the ground.
“What about now?” Slowly but surely crouching as you placed the handgun on the ground, your eyes never for a second leaving Bob's eyes.
“Gibbs—“ DiNozzo gave you a warning look. Clearly unimpressed by your actions. Reckless and dangerous. Standing off to the right behind the man who had Bob hostage, his gun still drawn.
“I’m unarmed.” Standing just as slowly as you had crouched. Your hands came back to the height of your head. Palms facing the man. “Let’s talk, but first you gotta let him go—“
“Uh uh, not a chance sweetheart.” Damn. It was worth a shot right? The man, Daniel Bodmin had been identified as one of the men who’d been out finishing with marine Author Avery. He’d washed ashore five days after being reported missing when a storm hit off the coast of San Diago. It seemed pretty set standard until autopsy results came back that Avery had ingested five hundred grams of cocaine in small plastic bags. That mixed with the twenty four thousand dollars sim cash found stashed behind the backboard of one of the seats on the fishing boat made it suspiciously suspect Avery may have been killed. The smell of foul play in the air. “The second I don’t have leverage, you're partner here is gonna put a bullet in my spine.”
“I’m pretty tempted to just do it anyway—“ DiNozzo piped up as he eyes down the suspect. “I’m a pretty good shot.” It was your turn to send him the same warning look he’d given you. Your hands still up beside your head in surrender as you took another slow hesitant step forward. Rooster couldn’t breathe.
“Okay so I’ll make a trade, you let him go—and you take me. That way we can talk, just you and me. Outside.”
“NO!” Rooster shouted as he took a step towards you, his chest pressed against your back before you knew what was happening. “No way.”
“Lieutenant Bradshaw so help me god if you don’t step back this second I’ll have you arrested for interfering with a federal investigation.” It absolutely pained you to say but if Bradley wasn’t going to stand down you were going to make him one way or the other. “Go stand with Jake—“
“Y/n don’t do this!“ Leaning over your shoulder to whisper through gritted teeth, Bradley begged you, the love of his life—not to do this. “I can’t lose you too.”
“I will cuff you to the pool table if I have to—“ It was tough love, sure. But you needed to do your damn job before Bob or anyone else for that matter got hurt. “Go, now.” The tone you used had gone to a new level of seriousness, you weren’t messing around. If need be, you’d cuff Bradley Bradshaw to that pool table and leave him there if that meant he was out of your way. If it meant you could do your damn job.
With hesitance and his tail between his legs, Rooster backed away slowly. Eyeing off the man who had Bob by the next and a gun pressed to his temple. There would surely be an indent by the time he was let go. Hands up surrender style—Rooster made his way over to where Hangman and Coyote stood dumbfounded.
“Are your eyes glued to your head or some shit man?” Javy hissed as Rooster stood beside him. “The fuck is wrong with you!?”
“She’s the love of my life, man.” You couldn’t blame Rooster for acting in your defence. It was in his inherent nature to protect the ones he loved so deeply, tenderly and oh so fiercely. “My whole god damn world.” He’d never been so scared to lose you before this very moment. The fallout of the uranium mission had him racing across the west coast of the country all the way to Washington where you were based. Knowing he came an inch to losing his life. Far too many times to count. On the way back Rooster had confided in Hangman for a brief moment. Mentioning that there had been a girl, a girl so fierce and loving and kind that he couldn't help but to wonder how you'd mourn him. He didn't mention specific things like how long you’d know each other or how long you two had been dating. Rooster didn't mention what you did for work or even how he’d had his mothers engagement ring resized off another ring he’d stolen from your jewellery stand.
Rooster had simply told Jake Seresin that for a moment there if he hadn’t come after him and Pete? There would have been a heartbroken soul at his funeral. A woman so willing to pray for him, take his pain for him, save his soul from himself. Bradley Bradshaw had always been the one left behind, but that day he almost left you. And he wasn't ready to do that without having made it one thousand percent clear that you were the love of his life. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
“Bradley? What–what are you doing here?” You questioned as he came through your front door. The key you'd gifted him nestled nicely in between all his other keys. Standing from your stop on the lounge–Youd been curled up watching Criminal Minds. “I thought you weren't supposed to be home for a few more days?”  Taking massive strides to get to you Bradly simply engulfed you in a warm embrace. Hugging you so tightly because there were a few moments there he thought he'd never get to hug you again. Smell your hair, feel how cold you ran against his usually hot self.
“I couldn't wait to see you for one more second.” You could hear it in his voice, fuck. Something had happened, hadn't it. But more importantly you could see it in his eyes as he pulled away to meet your gaze in the dimly lit living room or your modest two bedroom two bathroom townhouse. Big enough for you and big enough for Bradley Bradshaw. With a little extra room for a guest here and there. “As soon as I was dismissed I jumped in the Bronco and headed straight for the airport.”
“That's a pretty long flight –” You were trying to get a read on the situation. What makes a man drive almost the entire West Coast of the United States so pressingly? What on earth was going on inside his head. “Do you want a coffee or something? I can make you a fresh pot?”
“Uh yeah that would be nice.” Bradley replied softly as he brought your forehead to his lips by pressing the palm of his hand to the back of your head. Letting you go as you wondered your way into the kitchen. The kettle already empty and waiting to be filled.
Rooster couldn't wait another second, he had to ask. Following you as he fished the small black velvet box that held his mothers engagement ring out of his pocket. Opening it and he stood behind you. Your hips pressing against the lip of the kitchen bench as you filled the kettle with a soft smile on your face. Bradley's hand came to lean against the countertop as he kissed your neck softly. Peppering small butterfly-like kisses up and down the juncture of your neck and shoulder.
“What do you think you're playing at?” Taunting the naval aviator who you’d missed so dearly as you turned around, leaning against the countertop as you held the kettle now full of water. It wasn't long before it had found its new home on the tiles. Water cascading across the gloss white flooring. Your hands coming up to cup your mouth. Jaw hung slack as a gasp escaped. Eyes wide with pure shock as Bradley Bradshaw trapped you against the countertop and himself. Holding the open velvet box in his hand with a soft smile and watery eyes. “Brad–”
“I almost didn't come home this time.” It was a sentence you never wanted to hear but were still thankful enough to hear him say it. It was and would always be better than the alternative. The home calls all military men and women dreaded. The one where officials inform you of a loss. “And it made me realise that I now have someone to leave behind.”
“Bradley–” You tried to speak as you cupped his cheeks. Pressing your forehead against his as you stood on the tips of your toes to meet his lips.
“Marry me Y/n, marry me.” It was a question you didn't need to ponder or consider saying anything but yes to immediately. Watching as Bradley dropped down to one knee before you. Following him down. “I love you so much and I just–Ican't stand the thought of not having you in my life for whatever time I have here.” It was the honest truth of the matter. “And I want you all to myself, as my wife, my best friend.
“Yes.” It was all you said before you crashed into him. Your arms wrapping around his neck as you both fell to the floor, rooster on his back in the mess of water as you fell atop him. Melting together as your tongues danced and hands roamed. “I love you so much more.”
“Do we have a deal?” Your voice brought Rooster back into the room. His eyes trained on you as you kept your hands up and your eyes on bob. He looked like he was keeping it together. But you knew from experience the second he was let go he could react in all kinds of ways. You'd seen it all. “I said do we have a deal?” You weren't in the mood for this, to play silly games with peoples lives. “Bodmin!”
“Yes yes we have a deal!” He shouted. Accepting your proposal for a trade off. your self for Bob. Slowly making your way over to him, you took Bob's hand in yours. He was shaking something chronic. He’d been in situations where life and death seemed not too far apart but this? He’d never be able to forget the feeling of having his life threatened by another person.
“Floyd?” You said Bob’s last name allowed, committing the name that was proudly displayed on his name badge to memory. “Got a first name?” You vaguely remembered, it was something that started with a B. Bradley had mentioned so many people it was hard to keep track sometimes.
“Bob–” huh, You finally had a face to go with the stories Bradley had told you late at night in the kitchen. One in particular coming to mind, the bird strike. “Robert.”
“Well Bob, today's your lucky day.” You were sure to take your time as the man released Bob from his grasp, pulling Bob towards you step by step. “If you call being held hostage lucky–”
“You don't have to do this, you know.” Bob whispered as you turned around, it was now you who had your back to Bodmin. With a gentle smile you let his hands drop. The barrel of the gun that had once been held to Bob’s temple now pressing against the small of your back. “You don't have to risk your life for me–”
“It's kinda my job.” That was all you really had time to say before you were being marched towards the front door of the Hard Deck. Rooster sent DiNozzo a look as if to ask what the hell was he doing just letting you play self sacrificing damsel. DiNozzo just shrugged, his gun still drawn and locked onto Bodmin's back from across the room. “How do you wanna do this Dan? You gonna shoot a lady in the back? You know thats considered murder right?” It was now that you were getting Daniel right where you needed him to be that you started playing mind games. “If you’re already going down for the murder of Avery you may as well go two for two right?” DiNozzo could hear everything you were saying through his ear piece. When he got the chance? He was gonna slap the god damn shit out of the back of your head for being so undeniably reckless. “You killed him for the money didn't you? You just didn't know where he’d stashed it. So you panicked.”
“What happened to innocent until proven guilty huh?”
“You held a gun to a naval aviator's head–you’re as good as done.”
“Shut up before I put a goddamn bullet in you–” Shoving you out the front door was probably the dumbest thing Daniel Bodmin could have done. Because as you stepped out onto the front deck of the Hard Deck bar? A few dozen of your agents had him surrounded. Within milliseconds.
Bradley's heart fell out his arse when he heard a single gunshot come from outside. Shouting from all over the place ensued as he ran to where he’d last seen you, right out the front door.
“Y/n!!” He was expecting the worst, to see you lying on the ground with a bullet between your eyes. But that's not what he saw. Far from it actually. Special Agent DiNozzo was hot on Rooster's tail. Fuck. This couldn't be happening, this was meant to be a routine god damn op.
To both men's surprise, you had your knee pressed into Daniel Bodmin's back. He was face down on the deck with his hands cuffed behind his back, his gun discarded. Looking up at Rooster with a smirk evident on your face as Daniel squired under the pressure you were forcing him down with.
“Hi fellas.” You beamed like nothing unorthodox had just taken place. “DiNozzo, what the hell took you so long man–?”
“I was trying to listen to what everyone on comms was saying but it got all jumbled.” DiNozzo explained as he holstered his gun. Leaning down to take over the apprehension of Daniel Bodmin. “All I heard was gett him outside then you started going all awol of me like some suicidal maniac.” Pulling the now detained suspect to his feet. “When we get back to Quantico you best believe Gibbs is gonna be pissed.”
“When is he ever not?” You replied with a sigh. Turning your attention to Rooster who stood off to the side. The entire squad looking out the windows, peeping eyes looking over the windowsills to catch a glimpse of the action happening outside. This had been the most exhilarating situation the Hard Deck Bar had ever seen. Penny swore she was about ready to sell the damn place. “I'm sorry I threatened to arrest you, you know I wou–” before you could finish your sentence Bradley’s hands were clasping your cheeks. Pulling you against him as he kissed you with so much love and admiration you could taste it.
“I’ve never been so fucking worried about you—“ Roosted kissed you deeper this time, he knew what he was playing at as well. The whole ‘let me kiss her so she can’t speak’ shtick. Only pulling away with enough time so he could. “You’ve told me this stuff seems so normal to you but I want you to know it’s not—it’s beyond dangerous and I can't believe how easily you put down your weapon.” Rooster was projecting his own insecurities about your job onto you. Placing your hand over your lips as he came back to kiss you. Colliding with your open palm.
“You have a medallion sitting over our fireplace because you defied direct orders and single handedly flew into enemy territory knowing damn well you didn't have the ammunition to fight back–all to save the lives of others.” Yep. You had him with that one. “What is the difference here? Spot it and I'll give you five bucks Bradshaw–” Rooster just pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapping around your shoulders, his chin resting on the top of your head. Looking out as the sun set lower and slower on the horizon.
“I guess there isn't much in it.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Twenty minutes. That how much time had passed since Rooster saw you held at gun point, since he saw Bob held at gunpoint. It was standard protocol, you had Bob sitting at a nearby picnic table outside of the Hard Deck taking a witness statement.
“And you’re sure you’re alright? You don’t feel like you need to get checked out or anything?” You had your windbreaker one. The dark blue oversized jacket that proudly displayed NCIS on the back.
“No ma’am, thanks to you I’m in one peice.” You smiled softly at him, honestly you were just doing your job. “I didn’t know Rooster had a fiancée—“ You closed your little notepad before pocketing it in the back of your jean pocket. “Wish we’d met under different circumstances.”
“It is a little unorthodox isn’t it.” You chuckled, tapping Bob in the shoulder before making your way over to Rooster. He’d been watching you like a Hawk as you did your thing. Told people where to go and who to talk to, lead the investigation as NCIS agents went in and out of the Hard Deck. Talking to other witnesses for as many recollections as possible to aid the prosecution. “I’m thinking of staying until Tuesday if you feel like some company?” You mentioned as you approached Bradley, he stool with his arms crossed over his chest. Just admiring you from a far. He never really got the chance to watch you work. “If not I can always get a room at the motel down the road.”
“Well I usually don’t bring in strays—“ Taunting you as you bumped your hip against your finance’s playfully, your tongue sticking out against the inner part of your cheek as his smart ass comment. “But I’m sure I can make an exception.” You and Bradley had spoken a few times about the possibility of maybe buying a house in Freightertown now that he was there on more of a permanent basis. You’d keep the rental in Washington for convenience—but the idea would eventually see you come to San Diago as well. “You can’t get mad about the dishes piled as high as Everest in the sink though.”
“I’m not gonna say a word—“ Rooster swore he saw your nose grow an inch longer. He knew you’d say something about the mess, he’d let it get a little out of hand this week. He’d been starting early and finishing late—leaving little time for upkeep on the day to day basics.
“Agent Gibbs?” One of your Agents approached you followed by two men you’d never seen before in your life. “This is officer Radavic and Wilcox—NSA.”
“What’s NSA want with our case?” You questioned and the men showed you their badges and credentials. Rooster didn’t know if he should leave or stay. Choosing to stay as you crossed your arms across your chest.
“Daniel Bodmin was a foreign national with information considered a threat to the United States of America.” You couldn't believe what you were hearing. This entire case had been blown way out of the realm of what you originally thought it to be. “We figured we’d jump in, take things off your hands.” With a scoff and a small laugh you shook your head. Kicking your heel in the rough gravel underneath your shoe.
“This case is NCIS jurisdiction–regardless if Bodmin is of interest to NSA—“ Something was off, way off. If NSA was interested they would have made contact way before now. And they’d use the proper channels to do so, not just show up in Miramar unannounced. Perhaps you were too much like your father, or maybe you just didn’t believe the story from the get go.
“Well, I personally believe it would be in the best interest of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service to work with us, after all? We are on the same side.” Yeah, no. There was something incredibly off about these two. “Have you been able to find anything on–” Before the supposed NSA  Agent had the chance to finish his sentence you were sending your shine directly between his legs. Pulling his shoulders forward into you as you did so. Immediately he went down like a sack of shit, groaning as his partner went at Rooster. Not knowing he wasn't NCIS.
“Hey woah what the–!” Rooster was pretty quick on the draw, you'd give your soon to be husband that. He didn't need your help when it came to defending himself. His knuckles would surely be bruised up slightly after he was done and the other agent was on the ground. “What are you doing! You heard the guy? You're on the same team?” Roosters eyes were as wide as saucers as he turned back to you, fixing his shirt after having laid the other agent on his ass. Unconscious.
“Im pretty sure he's not NSA–” Bending over to retrieve both their weapons as a few agents rushed to the scene. Taking them into custody.
“Pretty sure!?” Bradley shouted through gritted teeth. “Because you teed off on him like you were kicking a field goal!”
“Rooster, I've got a hunch they're working with Bodmin alright, they might be foreign oppritives—just slow your roll there.” Trying to calm your fiancé down as you dusted him off. Sand everywhere.
“Oh my gosh! Y/n, sweetheart, baby girl no you don't just kick a guy in the junk on a hunch–“ Rooster groaned as he held his stomach. “Gees, sometimes I don't even know you, who does that?” You shrugged it off with a chuckle, intertwining your arm with Roosters as yiu walked back into the Hard Deck—all eyes on you as you looked up. A good set of twelve eyes all locked onto you. “Uh, I think this might be a good time to introduce you to my colleagues here.” Rooster mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. Nodding in response you waved at everyone who just stood stunned, still processing what had happened earlier.
“You must be colleagues huh?”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“So how’d you know they were bogus?” You’d all been sitting around the pool table. You’d noticed pretty quickly just how close Bob had stayed to the side of the women who’d come racing to the Hard Deck not ten minutes after you’d placed Bodmin under arrest. When Bradley had introduced you she’d pulled you in for a hug, said thank you for saving Bob's life and told you her name was Nat.
“Theyre accents–” You replied to Coyote who just shook his head in disbelief. God you were cool. How on earth did Rooster manage to find a girl like you?
“Nope, they didn't have accents.” Rooster saw how everyone was looking at you like you were the coolest person they’d ever encountered. Flying high he decided to shoot you down for his own enjoyment. Bring you back down to earth where he and the commoners lived. Standing between Bradley legs as he sat on one of the barstools with your back against his chest. You turned as his arms came down from their home on your shoulders. His hands lingering on your hips.
“Rooster, sweetheart, baby boy.” You teased, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you know the difference between French open syllabic organisation and English archaic speech patterning?” Giving him a taste of his own medicine. He didn’t respond—simply smirking as he took a sip of his beer. Eyes never leaving yours. Fucking smart arse.
“What that old chestnut?” Hangman mumbled as he smirked into the beer bottle he held to his lips. The whole crew minus Bob were indulging in a few too many alcoholic beverages. “Nah, what the hell even is that?” Fuck—Rooster could count his lucky stars with you that was for damn sure. “They probably have some diplomatic unity or some bullshit.”
“That's exactly why we threw em in county.” A familiar voice entered the chat. “They’ll be lucky to even get a phone call by christmas. '' DiNozzo snickered as he picked up a handful of the peanuts sitting in a bowl on the edge of the pool table. Looking at him so disappointed and puzzled as to where he’d gone this whole time– He shot you a questioning look back. “What? What's that look for?”
“Where the hell have you been—?” It was a legitimate question you wanted an answer to. DiNozzo just frowned as he took the handful of nuts into his mouth.
“Escorting our perp into county, why? what did I miss?” Looking around, no one wanted to give him an answer. “I'm pretty sure we’re good here don't you think? Besides, I’m gonna head back to the motel and get a good rest in before giving our two NSA impersonators the old razzle dazzle tomorrow–” Bradley chuckled to himself as you lent back to him. His chin resting on your shoulder.
“Just don't let Agent Bradshaw here interrogate them.” You would soon have to get used to that. Special Agent Bradshaw. It sounded funny but in the best of ways. Like a new house. Sure it felt foregin at first but soon it would become a home. Rolling your eyes as you sighed dramatically.
“Why is that?” DiNozzo questioned with squinted eyes. “What did you do–?”
“She kicked one of the guys right in the non day plumes!” Bradley scoffed over your shoulder, feeling you pull away in defeat as you stood with your arms crossed, sending him a glare– telling him to get over it already. God you loved him. So much.
“No–” Anthony played into it. Holding his hands together to cover his crotch. “She didn’t–”
“Yep–Guy didn't even have his weapon out.” You couldn't believe how big of a deal Bradley was making out of this.
“Really!?” DiNozzo was flabbergasted. “Gibbs, that's just outright assault.” You didn't know who to stare at more, Anthony or Bradley as the group watched on with laughter and smirks.
“Mmhmm, right in the cul de sac, kicked him so hard it gave me a stomach ache.” Okay this was getting out of hand.
“So what!” Throwing your hands up in defeat. “Would it have been better if I pistol whipped him across the face?”
“YES!!” Every single man you stood with said allowed in unison. You couldn't believe it. Even Natasha rollered her eyes.
“I'd rather be held at gun point–” Bob pipped up as Phoenix softly slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand. The group couldn't help but to laugh, settling in soon after into their own conversations as you said bye to DiNozzo and turned all of your attention back to Rooster.
“You done?” Questioning his childishness you glared at him yet again with a soft smirk. “Or should I get that hotel room after all?”
“Oh No–” Bradley Bradshaw had never jumped from his seat so fast in his life. Finishing his beer as he did so. “No you're coming home with me.” kissing your cheek as he whispered in your ear. “I specifically remember you mentioning handcuffs and I don't know about you but I'm keen to play cops and robbers.”
Would you like to read more of NCIS Bradley? The series Masterlist is linked here
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Tags: @auroraboreallisfine @tigerfan24 @atarmychick007
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dfortrafalgar · 4 days
Text
In Between
Law discovers that your thighs are the warmest part of your body and exploits that information.
Law x Fem Reader
Warnings: slightly suggestive, really just lots of fluff, reader is written to be chubbier but anyone can read this
Also posted on AO3
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Law’s teeth were chattering violently as he stomped down the steel hallways of the Polar Tang.  Light barely made it through the portholes with how deep below the surface of the ocean they were, his shadow only existing thanks to the few fluorescent lights that lined the hallways.  He turned a corner near the stern of the ship and pulled open the door to the engine room with an unmatched fury.
“Why the hell is it so damn cold in here?” he hollered, gravely annoyed.
Ikkaku and Penguin were on the floor in front of the ship’s main boiler system responsible for regulating the temperature within the submarine.  The sound of their captain’s voice made them jump and rapidly turn their attention toward him.
“Sorry, Captain, the electrical system for the boiler’s shot.  We’re working on getting it fixed but it might take a few days.”  Penguin waved his hand in front of the mess of the deconstructed boiler on the floor.
“Are there any extra blankets in the bunkhouse closet?” Ikkaku asked, turning her head back to her work.
Law grumbled.  Of course he had already checked.  Every single blanket that existed on the Polar Tang was currently being used by the other 19 members of the crew, huddled in a giant human ball in the common room with Bepo in the center.  They looked like a flock of penguins in a blizzard, with the only difference being the human chatter amongst the group.
With a brief, and quite blunt, goodbye, Law closed the engine room door and held tighter onto Kikoku who held her permanent place perched on his shoulder.  There was only one person he hadn’t seen in regards to the heating issue, or lack thereof.  And he knew exactly where to find her.
---
Being the Captain’s beloved girlfriend came with many responsibilities, but also a great many perks.  Your favorite being your new home in his private quarters.  His bed was so soft and bouncy, and you got a great amount of sleep in it considering your boyfriend rarely did.  He had a decently large space equipped with a small desk and bookshelf where he stored a few of his personal possessions, now shared with some of yours.  Your favorite part, though, was knowing that Law would always return to this very room at the end of each day, and you were always in there waiting.
You were busying yourself with a small broom, brushing away a small pile of dirt, sand, and stray hairs that had accumulated on the metal flooring.  Staying in motion was the best way to stay warm, and you were so warm, in fact, that you had tied the sleeves of your boiler suit around your waist, existing in the t-shirt you wore underneath.  You crouched down with a dustpan to scoop the pile of dirt up and away from the floor when the door to the room was pushed open with urgency, making you yelp in surprise.  You didn’t even hear him coming, but you giggled almost as soon as you saw the man in the doorway.
Law’s usually stoic face was dusted with a deep red along his nose and cheeks, and his teeth were clenched together.  The fingers that were curled around his sword were also bright red.  He didn’t look particularly pissed, more just uncomfortable.
“It’s cold,” was all he said.  When he took note of your boiler suit being halfway off leaving your forearms and neck exposed, mild shock coated his features.  “How are you not freezing without that suit on?”
You smiled as you finished brushing away the pile into the dustpan and dropping it into a nearby receptacle Law kept by his desk.  “I’ve been doing chores all day, so I got kind of warm.  It is a bit chilly though.”
“‘A bit’,” he responded, light-heartedly mocking your nonchalant attitude.  He trudged into his room, closing the heavy door behind him and gently placing his sword against the wall before flopping onto his bed, hat rolling off of his head with the force of his movement.  He immediately curled into a little ball, hands clutched towards his mouth in feeble attempts to keep them warm, which wasn’t working as planned considering even the breath leaving his lungs was tinged with frost.
You pulled your boiler suit back up, buttoning it halfway leaving it open where your chest was.  You laid on the bed next to him, pulling him into your body as best you could with his current ball form.
“I thought you were from the North Blue, you should be used to the cold,” you chided, running your fingers through his mop of black hair.  It was slightly greasy by the roots, he was due for a nice warm shower when the boiler was fixed.
“I have low blood circulation,” he muttered into your neck.  “I get cold easily if I’m not bundled up to the nines.”  Neither of you needed to say it out loud, it was common knowledge.  Law was super lean and a tad scrawny in areas, it made sense why he would get cold more easily.
A smile graced your lips at the mental image of Law as a kid, wrapped in a multitude of warm layers to keep him warm, that grouchy expression lingering for the duration.  He must have been so adorable like that.
“Well, you have me, I can be your personal space heater,” you responded, voice heavy with affection.
Law had to admit, he did feel like he was warming up already.  He uncurled his hands and placed them on your chest to roll you more onto your back so he was on top of you, resting on you with his full body weight.  His leg nestled in between yours and his nose was pressed into your neck, scruffy facial hair tickling your skin.  His hands, following a growing path of warmth that radiated from your body, trailed down your sides to your hips, before dipping in between your bodies towards your crotch.  In the divots of your hip joints, his hands were instantly filled with an almost scorching warmth that rapidly replaced the biting cold in his fingertips.
“Oh my god,” he muttered without even thinking.
You laughed, though your sound came out a bit breathy as his whole body rested atop your chest.  “Warm down there?” 
Law shuffled, rolling off of you slightly to weasel his tattooed hands between your plump thighs.  You were so unbelievably warm in this one specific spot.  He never noticed it until this very moment.  A tiny voice in the back of his head made him wish the boiler could stay broken for longer just so he could keep his frigid hands locked between your flesh.
Breathless, he uttered, “How are you so warm right here?”
Your hands trailed up his own body to play with the wispy black baby hairs behind his neck.  “I don’t know, I’ve always been pretty warm right there.  Sometimes when my hands get too cold I sit on them to warm up.”  You laughed.  It sounded quite stupid when you said it out loud, but it wasn’t like you could deny it.  If you’ve got personal warmth, you use it to your advantage.
And in this case, you let your popsicle of a boyfriend use it to his advantage.
Law was growing uncomfortable in this position, and with a few quick motions, he had you turned so your back was against his torso, becoming the little spoon as his long legs curled around you, one arm encircling your hips to once again dip his fingers into the warmth between your pelvis.  His other arm rested below you, flush between your body and the bed, absorbing all the warmth it could.  You were much more comfortable in this position too, curling your neck back slightly so his nose ruffled your hair.  He took a long, deep inhale, fully relaxing into the moment.
“What time is it?” he lazily asked.
“Can’t be past 2 o’clock yet,” you responded.
The captain sighed.  There was still so much daytime left and now he found himself in the position where all he wanted to do was warm himself with your soft body.  He inwardly accepted the reality that he might be doing this for the duration of the boiler’s maintenance.  Who was he kidding, he’d be doing this for the rest of his life, until you got sick of him, of course.  But with the way you were completely nestled into him, your own hands held close to your chest, he didn’t think you had any complaints.
His previous grouchiness had all but melted away.  He blissfully closed his eyes with his nose in your hair, planting a chaste kiss on the back of your head.
189 notes · View notes
discordantwritings · 2 months
Text
Guiding Star (Jinbe x Reader)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! reader, monsterfucking, Jinbe has two dicks, oral sex (m receiving), double penetration, belly bulge, Jinbe talks you through it
WC: 4.6k
Summary: You have a big, giant, fat crush on your newest crew mate, Jinbe. You don’t hold out any hope that he likes you back but you’ve been convinced you should at least give it a shot. Who knows? Maybe he does like you back.
Notes: if jinbe is OOC I’m sorry but I watched every clip and video I could get my hands on. I just had to write some monsterfucking ok? Ok.
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It’s embarrassing how much you’ve been staring at the newest crew member. But how could you not?
Jinbe, former warlord and knight of the sea was now the helmsman for the Thousand Sunny and you found him occupying your thoughts quite frequently. At first you were intimidated by him- incredibly tall stature and his battle prowess left nothing to the imagination of what he could do to anyone who got in his way. But as you saw him around the ship and his interactions with your fellow straw hats you saw a different side of him.
He was kind, he was polite, and the way his laugh boomed through the decks always made you smile. It was like he’d been a crew member for years now, fitting right into everyone’s routine effortlessly. You hadn’t talked to him one on one a lot but every time you did it was a wonderful conversation. If he let you you could probably sit and listen to his stories for hours on end.
And there was… well…
He was hot.
Sure, maybe he wasn’t everyone’s taste but you honestly couldn’t wrap your head around why more people weren’t swooning over him. He was at least three feet taller than you and almost entirely muscle. Not that he looked it but when he easily hefted barrels over his shoulder like it was nothing you could only imagine what it would be like to be picked up and maneuvered around so easily. And when he lets his kimono fall past his shoulders and simply knot around his waist letting his broad shoulders and wide chest out-
God.
You were spending too much time around Sanji.
You honestly don’t mean to be a pervert. You spend a lot of time kicking yourself internally for how far your brain has traveled into the gutter. Most days you try not to spend too much time around the fishman, worrying that he will catch you staring or pick up on your feelings. That would just ruin everything- you might like him but chances are he wouldn’t return the emotions.
“You’re thinking about him again.” Robin’s voice startles you out of your thoughts and you whip around to see her standing there, arms crossed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to play it off, but Robin is clearly not having it.
“You have that love struck yet sad look on your face.” Robin states as she sits down next to you. “You’re thinking about a certain helmsman.”
You sigh. Robin had picked up on your crush probably before you did. It was nice to have someone to confide in but it was still embarrassing. “Maybe I am…”
“How many times do I have to tell you to just go talk to him?”
“See it sounds easy when you say it like that but you know it’s more complicated.” You sink back into the bench, arms folded.
“And avoiding a fellow crew member and constantly moping around isn’t making things complicated?” You cringe because of course she is right.
“But…” You lean onto Robin’s shoulder. “What if he doesn’t like me. I mean- it’s more likely that he doesn’t like me than he does really considering…” The whole human and fishman thing.
“You don’t know that. And even if he turns you down he’s a kind and understanding individual. He would never hold it against you.”
“You’re so smart…” You mumble into her shoulder.
“Yes, yes.” Robin pats your head. “Now what do you think about talking to him tonight.”
You shoot upright. “Tonight? That’s so soon I don’t-“
“He’s going to be up late redirecting our course so you can approach him when no one else is around. And it’ll be on deck so you can run away if anything happens.”
You think it over. Of course that seems like a good plan. But could you actually go through with it?
“Fine.” You relent, sagging back into the bench. “Tonight.”
“Good.” Robin claps her hands together. “This will be great. Trust me.”
And you do trust her. Enough to let the anxiety stir in your stomach for the rest of the day as you waited for the hours to pass by. Dinner was awkward for you, Robin shooting you looks as you tried not to make eye contact with anyone, afraid people will see how nervous you were. But dinner was over fast enough and everyone slowly made their way to bed. All except you and Jinbe. Slowly making your way up to the helm under the light of the stars you saw him.
Seeing him at the wheel sent a wave of calm over you. He was always so capable and you know that your crew and the Thousand Sunny were safe in his capable hands. Jinbe must have sensed you hovering as he glances over your way. A large smile comes over his face when he realizes it’s you.
“You’re up late.” He comments, not fully turning away from his duty but keeping an eye on you.
“Oh, yeah, just…” You walk the final strides to be next to him- not close by any means but average conversation distance. Hopefully. “Wanted to talk.”
“Oh?” Jinbe drops one hand from the helm to face you properly. When his attention is on you you feel your heartbeat quicken and your nerves rise.
“I uh… I’m really not sure how to say this…” You can’t make eye contact with him, eyes glued to the planks of the deck.
“If I’ve done something to offend you-“ Jinbe sounds concerned and that sends a pant of guilt through you.
“No! Nothing like that actually-“ You take a deep breath. You just had to rip off the bandaid. “I like you. In a romantic capacity.”
You want to fling yourself off the deck and let the ocean take you for how awkward that just sounded. Still unable to look at him you’re left wondering what is going through his head as silence hangs in the air.
“Ah. I understand.” Finally comes Jinbe’s response. It’s just what you’re expecting, something small and polite that hints that you should drop it. Of course. At least it’s over now and you-
“I feel the same way.”
What?
Your eyes dart up from the deck to Jinbe’s face and you see him smiling wide, all teeth. You search for some hint of a joke or deception but can’t find it. He turns his attention back to the helm, turning it ever so slightly and leaving you to flounder.
“Oh. Okay then.” Was all you could think to say, standing there wondering what the hell just happened.
The sound of the water lapping against the boat was barley audible over your own heartbeat thrumming in your ears. Do you go now? Do you stand here? Are you supposed to be saying something?
“Do you want to see something?” Jinbe’s deep voice grabs you out of your thoughts to see him looking down at you. You nod, and he steps back from the helm and motions for you to take his place.
With slight hesitation you step behind the wheel. You feel him move behind you and you realize when you hear his voice next to your ear that he’s kneeled down.
“So if you look up here…” His hand travels past your shoulder, pointing. “Do you see that bright star?”
He’s so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck and you have to purposefully slow your breathing. You follow his finger and look up into the night sky. It takes you a second to find it amongst the hundreds of brilliant lights but eventually you do- one shining just a bit brighter than the rest.
“I think I do.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to speak louder.
“That’s the star that navigators use to anchor everything. Nami and I split the job of directing the ship but she always gives me directions in relation to that star. Almost every single person on this world uses that star to guide them.”
You’ve heard mention of this star before, being on the sea for as long as you had, but the way he explains it to you and how he’s practically surrounding you while he does so is a whole new experience. “Wow.”
“It’s one of those things I remember when we all get so caught up in our differences. We all have more in common than we might think. We all have the same stars.” His hand falls and it skims your side as it does so and you shiver.
“That’s beautiful.” You say, still staring up at the stars.
“Not quite as beautiful as you.” His voice had dropped an octave and the way it reverberated through your chest made your breath hitch.
“You can’t just say things like that.” You know your face is completely flushed from his words and how damn close he was to you.
“Why not? I thought you liked me.” His tone was teasing and you huffed.
“Yes- but- this is all so embarrassing.” You bury your hands in your face, mortified about how poorly you were handling everything.
You felt large hands gently turn you around and you wanted to retract further out of sheer embarrassment. Even though you have your eyes screwed shut under your hands you still feel his gaze on you.
“You’re going to have to look at me at some point.” You can hear the humor in his voice and you suck in a breath and drop your hands.
He’s on one knee in front of you but his face is still a bit higher than yours. It’s closer than it’s ever been before and you find yourself scanning his face and taking in every detail. The way his fangs shine in the moonlight, his smooth blue skin, and the deep scar across his right eye. You can even see a faint blush creep over his cheeks, a deep purple against light blue.
“If I didn’t know any better I would think you’d never seen a fishman before.” He says, taking you out of your trance.
“I just- you’re so handsome.” You admit, finally able to lock eyes with him.
“It’s not often people say that to me.” It’s his turn to break away from your gaze.
“I don’t understand that at all. But maybe I am glad no one snatched you up before I could.” You feel emboldened by seeing his reaction to your compliment.
“Just maybe?” Jinbe’s eyes find yours again as his hand finds your shoulder. You lean into the touch as his thumb rubs small circles into your skin.
“I’m really glad no one snatched you up before I could. And also that you like me as well.”
“You really thought I wouldn’t?” His motions don’t cease and you feel your nerves leaving you.
“I really did. I mean I was terrified you would think I was some pervert or something.” You admit.
“Pervert? Why?” He sounds genuinely confused.
“Well- I mean-“ You shift on your feet slightly. “I might have been staring at you. A lot.”
“Hm? Really now?” A finger comes up to your face and brushes across your cheek. “And while you were staring… what would you think about.”
His words make your stomach twist in anticipation and your breath quickens as you debate what to say. You could play it off, say something that would leave him thinking you were more put together than you were but with the way he’s looking at you…
“A lot of things. Mostly about how big and strong you are. How it would feel to touch you- be touched by you.” Once you started speaking the words just tumbled out. You searched Jinbe’s face for a reaction and are relieved to see him break into a huge smile.
“This might be too forward of me- and tell me if it is- but I could touch you. If you’d like.” He was so polite and so kind.
You lean into his hand, still on your face. “I would really love that.”
“Perfect!” His voice followed by a booming laugh makes you giggle. He stands up and you remember just how tall he is, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Hold on.”
You’re confused for a second before Jinbe easily scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder. You let out a small yelp that devolves into more giggles as you’re carried off. Even though you’re facing backwards you can tell where he’s going pretty fast- taking the ladder up to the crow’s nest. Typically unoccupied at this time of night it’s the one place on the ship you two could get some privacy.
He slides you off his shoulder gently and you have to take a second to reorient yourself. While you balance, Jinbe sits down on one of the benches and waits patiently for you. Once you collect yourself you take the few steps over to Jinbe, slotting yourself between his wide legs so you can get as close to him as possible. You pause, face hovering only inches from his as your eyes scan his face.
“You sure?” He asks softly, a finger moving a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Yes.”
He looks at you for a moment more before finally moving in to kiss you.
It was unlike any other kiss you’d had before. His lips were surprisingly soft and smooth as they pressed against yours gently. He moved slowly and he was able to keep his tusks from scraping you. You felt their presence though, cool and hard on the sides of your mouth. The kiss was was everything you thought it would be and more.
You found yourself leaning into him, supporting yourself on his shoulders as large hands came to gently hold you at your sides. His hands encompass your waist and heat pools in your stomach at that fact.
You loose track of time kissing him as your hands and his explore each others bodies. His skin is smooth and cool under your touch, different but not unwelcome. Rough fingertips find your skin just under your shirt, raising it up a few inches just so he can feel you. The two of your drift like this for what feels like hours until the heat under your skin builds up and you need more.
“Jinbe-“ You whine as you break away from the kiss.
“Hm? What do you need?” He asks, his thumb rubbing circles into your hip.
“Can I-“ You fight through the embarrassment and sink down to your knees in front of him. Your hands smooth over his thighs as you look up at him. His eyes are wide in surprise and lust and you see his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
“You don’t have to. It’s…” He trails off but your hands are at the knot in his kimono, slowly untying.
“I want to. Please?” You bat your eyes and he’s gone. He nods and you finish your work on the knot and gently part the fabric.
Of course you had thought about what he would look like. Rumors about what fishmen genitalia looked like always hung around but you never met anyone with first hand experience, no one you would trust to actually have a real story. You had ideas, hopes maybe, but what was sitting in front of you was beyond what you imagined.
Mostly because there was two of them.
Two smooth members were erect and flush against Jinbe’s stomach. Starting off thinner and tapering to impossibly thick at the base they look like they could have been one larger cock before being split down the middle. Just one of them was far larger than anything you’ve ever seen and both of them together? Well you know there’s no possible way all of him will fit inside you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t want whatever your body could possibly take.
“Like I said- you don’t have to-“ Jinbe’s slightly nervous voice sounds above you and you realize you’ve probably been staring for a while.
“No!” You answer, embarrassingly eager. “This is-“
You can’t find the proper words so you decide to show him.
Taking the right one into your hand you press a kiss to the very base, enjoying the way he shuddered under your touch. You continued upward, pressing sloppy kisses and leaving his cock slick with your saliva. After thorough attention you repeated your actions on the other. You watch as Jinbe’s hands fist in the fabric pool around his thighs, relishing in the small grunts and groans you are able to get out of him.
Satisfied with your preparation you bring both your hands around both his members, pushing them together as you slowly pump down and then back up. You hold your hands there and take both tips into your mouth. Above you Jinbe hisses and you feel one of his hands shoot up to the back of your head. He just holds it there, fingers weaving into your hair but you know he’s holding himself back.
Your tongue swirls around the tips as you take more into your mouth. You don’t get far but that doesn’t seem to matter to Jinbe as you feel his fingers grip your hair tighter as you work. Pulling off you stop holding the two together and instead gently maneuver them apart, running your tongue down through the gap as your hands gently worked up and down.
“Fuck-“ You don’t think you’d ever heard Jinbe swear before but the husk in his voice sends a fresh wave of heat to your core. “You feel so good.”
His encouragement is all you need. You take just one of his cocks in your mouth this time and you’re able to take him farther down. Flattening out your tongue and relaxing your throat you’re able to take almost half of him down your throat. His hand grips your hair tighter but doesn’t hold you down and the slightly pain of having your hair pulled keeps you grounded. You keep him there as long as you can until you have to pull yourself off, saliva running down your chin as you pant for air. As you catch your breath Jinbe’s hand smooths over your hair and you hear Jinbe whispering soft praises to you. Finally ready, you take a deep breath and repeat your motions to the other cock as you slowly pump the one covered in your saliva. When you go to switch back the hand at your head stops you, gently directing your gaze up.
“Get back up here.” The soft but firm command has you standing up immediately and he pulls you into a kiss.
There’s more heat in it this time as his hands move from your waist, over your ass, and to your thighs. With little effort he lifts you up and onto his lap, never breaking the kiss. You feel his hands come up and around to the waistband of your pants and you get the message. Reaching down you quickly unbutton and shove them down along with your underwear, maneuvering yourself so you can get them off and fling them to the side somewhere. You hover over his lap and with your knees on his thighs you remain face to face with him.
One of Jinbe’s hands stays at your waist, holding you in place while the other finally dips down between the two of you to where you need him most. Cool calloused fingers find your folds and he hums appreciatively.
“Soaking wet just from pleasuring me?” He smiles and you bury your face into his shoulder, embarrassed.
You feel his fingers part your folds and you feel the press of one large finger at your entrance. It has no trouble sliding in with how soaked you are. You moan into his shoulder and your arms come up to latch around his thick neck. The finger gently pushes in and out of you, the slick sounds filling the space.
“I have to ask.” His voice reverberates in your chest. “Do you want me inside you?”
“Please Jinbe.” You’re surprised at how needy you sound, practically whining.
“Then I’ll need to work you open.” Even just that promise has your breaths coming heavier.
A second finger finds its way to your entrance, gently sliding in next to the first. You already feel full and wonder what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into. But when he slowly scissors his fingers open you forget everything.
“Jinbe-“ Your fingernails can’t dig into his thick skin but that doesn’t stop you from trying.
“I know, I know.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “You’re taking my fingers so well.”
You moan at his words as he continues to slowly work you open. It’s not too much longer before you feel a third finger threatening to join the other two.
“You can take it, just relax.” You do your best, taking deep breaths as a third thick finger enters you, making you feel impossibly full. His words, the slow but calculated actions, the feeling of fullness, it’s all too much.
“Jinbe- I’m- fuck-“ You stutter out unable to fully form a sentence.
“It’s ok, just let go. It’s alright just relax.” The hand on your hip runs gently over your side and you fall apart.
“That’s it. So good for me.” Jinbe whispers into your ear, his fingers still slowly working in and out of you through your orgasm. You press kisses to his shoulder as he keeps moving inside you, continuing to stretch you out.
“I need-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as Jinbe’s fingers hit that spot deep inside you.
“Tell me what you need love.”
You groan in frustration and pleasure. “You- I need you inside me please.”
“Anything you want.” His fingers pull out of you and you whine at the loss.
You look down between your bodies and see him take both of his dicks into his hand, using your slick to coat them. Mesmerized and a bit intimidated you stare down as both tips get aligned with your entrance.
“You don’t have to do this, it’s ok if we stop here.” His thoughtful words make you look into his eyes and you shake your head.
“No, I want this, as much as I can take.” You press a kiss to his mouth that he eagerly takes.
You have to pull away from his mouth as he enters you, one hand guiding himself and the other hand on your hip slowly pushing you down. Your mouth hangs open as you feel him enter you, stretching you out already. Focusing on your breathing you rest your forehead on Jinbe’s shoulder as you slowly sink further down.
“That’s it just breathe. You’re taking me so well.” You can hear a strain in his voice signaling that this is effecting him just as much as it is you.
“You’re- fuck-“ You swear loudly as you feel him gently touch your cervix. “That’s-“
“I feel it, it’s alright, I’ve got you.” Jinbe holds you up with one hand, allowing you to take the strain off your legs. You know you aren’t taking all of him in you, still a few inches away from his base.
The stretch feels impossible- like you’re about to split down the middle. You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt, but you breathed through that pain and with soothing words from Jinbe in your ear you slowly begin to relax. Face still buried in Jinbe’s shoulder, you feel the hand not holding you come around to your front and a calloused finger presses against your clit. You try to say something, but you can’t form words, only moans and whines into the smooth skin of his shoulder.
“It’s okay love just let go.” He rubs slow circles into your clit.
“I don’t-“ You whine, embarrassed how fast you are already at your edge again.
“I want you to let go. Come apart on me. Just for me.” His words are like honey and you can’t help but grind on his finger pushing yourself over the edge.
“That’s it that’s-“ Jinbe groans as he feels your walls flutter around him. “You feel so good around me- so good.”
You push yourself up a bit so you can look at Jinbe. His face is just as flushed as yours, stormy eyes dilated with lust. “‘m ready.”
Jinbe nods and slowly lifts you up and you feel every inch dragging out of you before he lowers you back down. You watch Jinbe’s jaw go slack and you feel a a tinge of pride knowing he’s just as effected as you are. Watching his face you see his gaze go down between the two of you. The hand not moving you skates up over your stomach and you look down.
Underneath Jinbe’s palm you see your stomach bulge out with every thrust. His palm presses down against the bulge and it’s a sensation you’ve never felt before and both you and Jinbe moan loud.
“See me filling you up? You’re taking me so well watch-“ His voice is breathier and faster and you know he is getting closer to falling apart.
You’re mesmerized, watching him go in and out of you, seeing and feeling the stretch. You don’t know how your body will ever be the same after this, how anyone else could ever compare when you’ve been pushed to impossible limits by Jinbe.
“You like that don’t you?” Jinbe says, feeling the way your walls flutter as you watch him. “Are you close? I’m almost there-“
“Yes- shit I’m close-“ You tangle your hands in Jinbe’s hair, gripping right to ground yourself.
“You feel so good falling apart around me- need to feel that again- can you do that? Just for me love?” He moves you faster up and down as he pleads with you and for the third time tonight you cum.
Almost completely out of your body you still feel Jinbe moving in and out of you, still chasing his end. His careful movements stutter and you know he’s almost there.
“Jinbe- I want you to finish inside me- please-“ You whine, overstimulated but still needy.
That seems to be all he needed and you feel him thrust up into you one last time before releasing inside you. You feel him filling you up an impossible amount, his cum already spilling out of you and dripping down below.
He gently pulls you off of him and holds you close, a hand smoothing your hair as he whispers praises to you as you regain your senses. It’s not long before he’s standing up with you still in his arms and before you know it you’re in the showers and Jinbe is carefully washing you off in the warm water.
By the time you’re cleaned up you feel alright to stand, wrapping yourself in a bathrobe as you cling to Jinbe’s side. You know he has to go back to his watch but you don’t want to leave him and he senses that.
“You can stay with me, if you’d like.” He offers as the two of you walk out of the showers. You nod and he immediately picks you up again, carrying you back to the helm.
He sits on the bench of the deck, leaning back as you curl up and get comfortable in his arms. Under the stars and in the arms of your new lover you fall asleep, excited for what your new relationship will hold.
276 notes · View notes
sharks31 · 5 months
Text
Tension
ace x f!reader
MDNI! 18+ content below the cut
cw: a lil angst, marco being marco, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie
wc: 3.3k
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It had always been there, the tension between you and Ace. No matter how many guys you hooked up with or how many women you watched him leave bars with, it always remained. It could’ve been resolved by now, in your personal opinion. All you guys needed to do was fuck it out of your systems. But for some reason you had never been able to place, Marco stepped in the way every single time it looked like you might finally resolve the biting tension.
Until one day, it all finally made sense. In the past, you’d never been sober enough the night of or bold enough the next day to ask him why. But on this particular night, as you watched Ace leave the bar with a new woman from this random island, it finally clicked. Having arrived later than the rest of the crew, you hadn’t had quite as much to drink as you normally would’ve by this point, and for the first time it hurt to watch Ace walk out the door with the pretty blonde draped around his waist.
Your eyes widening in realization, you looked over to see Marco already watching you with a soft expression on his face from his seat next to you. He knew you finally realized it, realized the gravity of the situation. It was never just sexual tension to you. You genuinely liked Ace. As more than just a friend or a potential hookup. And it hurt more than you ever would’ve thought to see him walk out with someone else.
“Let’s get you back to the ship yoi.” he muttered, sliding an arm around your shoulders and scooting you out of the booth. You couldn’t respond, in a state of shock over this new revelation, not even noticing when Marco whispered back and forth with Thatch and Izou, all three of them frowning, before he led you out of the bar.
After a silent walk back to the Moby Dick, your eyes finally lifted from the ground as Marco led you to your bedroom door. Almost as soon as the door opened, the shock lifted and the tears started. Upon hearing your choked sob, Marco lifted you up and carried you over to your bed as you clutched onto his shirt and sobbed into his chest. “H-how did I … I not know?” you finally whispered out in between sobs.
“I knew. I saw the way you looked at him even if you didn’t realize it.” he whispered back. “I stopped you all those times because of it. I knew he wouldn’t consider it anything more than a hook-up and I was trying to protect you. I’m sorry you figured it out like this yoi.”
The sobs only wracked your body harder in response as he laid back against your head board and rubbed circles on your back as you curled into him. Listening to his heart beat and trying to control your breathing, the exhaustion set into your body as your eyes started to close.
“Stay, please Marco. I can’t be alone right now.” you muttered as your consciousness started to slip.
“I’m not going anywhere (Y/N). You’ll be okay yoi. Get some rest.”
—————————
Rolling over when the headache split through your sleepiness, you were thoroughly confused to feel another body next to you. Peeling your eyes open, you came face to face with Marco’s chest as he slept soundly next to you, still in his clothes from the night before. The headache only seemed to get worse as the memories flooded back and you were faced with the reality of a new day.
Marco’s eyes fluttered open only a moment later to the sight of tears already starting to gather in the corners of your eyes, immediately pulling you into him when you started to cry softly, pain throbbing through your temples in response.
“It’ll be alright yoi. Let’s get up so you can get a shower and we can get some breakfast, yeah?”
You nodded against his chest, tears dissolving into stuttered breaths before you began to untangle yourselves and climb out of bed. Stepping over to your dresser, you grabbed some new clothes and a towel before following Marco out of the room and down the hall.
You nodded your assent that you would find Marco in his room after your shower as you turned and padded into the women’s bathroom, immediately cranking the heat all the way up in an attempt to banish the headache and lingering feeling of tears that enveloped you. Standing and staring at the wall, your mind began to run through the possibilities of how on earth you were going to face Ace. Would everything be normal? Would you be able to handle everything being normal? No. Probably not. But what choice did you have? He didn’t know the truth, and you never wanted him to know the truth. Finally, with a shaky exhale, you exited the shower as the water started to grow cold, quickly drying off and clothing yourself before peering into the foggy mirror to assess the bags that had undoubtedly formed under your eyes.
Grumbling about how swollen your eyes looked, you finally sauntered down the hall to Marco’s room, finding the door already open as he sat at his desk pouring over some paperwork while he waited.
Looking up, he smiled softly. “Come on, let’s go get you some breakfast before it gets cold yoi. I’ll have Thatch brew you some fresh coffee.”
Nodding, you muttered a rather hoarse “okay” as he guided you down to the mess hall and straight through to the kitchen, missing the pair of eyes that trailed your figures your entire way through the room.
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Marco had stuck by your side the entire day, occasionally switching out with Thatch or Izou if he was needed for something. You were grateful, having avoided Ace thanks to them keeping you busy, although he plagued your thoughts regardless of his absence.
But, you couldn’t avoid him the entire day, much to your dismay. After seeking shelter in the kitchen while Thatch cooked dinner, you ambled into the mess hall to join Marco and Izou only to find Ace sitting across the table from them with Deuce. Sliding into the seat between the two commanders, you kept your eyes down on your plate as Ace rambled on about something funny somebody had done earlier in the day. Normally, you’d be listening and laughing along with the rest of them, if you could’ve bared to even look in his direction you probably would’ve been.
After poking around at your food for awhile, Marco nudged you with an expectant stare when you finally lifted your head.
“Huh?”
“You tuned out yoi. Deuce asked you a question.”
Fixing you eyes on Deuce as you turned, you flushed slightly as you asked him to repeat the question.
“I only asked if you had any exciting conquests this week on the island. You always seem to have good stories,” he responded with a chuckle laced in his words.
Your whole body tensed as you fought to keep from glancing at Ace, wanting to know how he had reacted to such a question. Feeling Marco rest a hand on your shoulder, some of the tension dissipated as you forced a chuckle, “No no, not this week. Nobody exciting in that bar at least.”
“Oh come on! I totally saw someone you would go for the other night! You totally would’ve jumped at that guy!”
Fighting the urge to glare back at Deuce as he prolonged the conversation, you waved your hand dismissively, simply saying he probably wasn’t all that interesting. Thankfully, Izou jumped to your rescue by steering the conversation onto Deuce’s own escapades in the past week, as he was more than happy to start rambling on about all the women he’d managed to sweet talk into bed.
As your eyes returned to your plate, you missed the glare shared between Marco and Ace, a mix of questioning and warning from both men as they turned away from one another again.
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Walking back to your room that night with Marco, you thought about how on earth you were going to face Ace on your own in the coming days. When you finally reached the door, he turned to you with a soft smile, “You gonna be alright tonight yoi?”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll be okay. Thank you for everything Marco.”
He wrapped you up in a hug, chin rested on top of your head, “Of course yoi. Get some rest. My door’s unlocked if you need me”
You muttered back a thank you and unwrapped yourself before you turned to open your door, walking in and shutting it behind you as you heard him walk down the hall. Stripping down to your underwear and throwing on a big t-shirt you’d undoubtedly stolen from one of the boys, you settled into the mattress as the stress and exhaustion of the day set in, pulling your eyes shut almost immediately. Without enough time for your mind to wander, you settled into sleep quickly, nestled in the numerous blankets piled up on your bed.
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Not even an hour later, Ace stood outside your room staring at your door. Debating with himself, he tried to decide whether he should knock or just go back to his own room and get some rest. Nearly five minutes later, his fist finally raised to the door as he rapped on it softly.
“(Y/N)? Are you awake?” he called out, pushing your door open when you didn’t respond. Upon laying eyes on your sleeping figure, he slipped into the room and planted himself in the chair next to your bed. Watching your body rise and fall as you laid on your side facing away from him, he sighed, trying to decide if it was worth waking you up. Before he could make a decision, his head dropped back as he fell asleep himself.
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Slowly waking up, you groaned when you opened your eyes and realized it was still dark outside. Fluttering your eyes back shut, you settled back into the mattress before furrowing your brows when you registered that there was, in fact, someone snoring in your room. Jolting up, you were shocked to find Ace knocked out in the chair next to you, head leaned back as he slept soundly in what had to be one of the most uncomfortable positions ever. Blinking to make sure you weren’t hallucinating, you reached out and flicked him on the forehead, hard, in a bid to wake him up.
Shooting up in his chair, he looked bewildered, immediately hissing at you “Ow! What the fuck was that for?”
“Me? What the fuck are you doing? Why are you even in here in the middle of the night?” you seethed back, not nearly awake enough to contend with facing him in that moment.
Rubbing the spot where you flicked him, Ace muttered something unintelligible into the darkness of the room.
“You gotta speak up bud. What the fuck are you doing in here?”
“I just came to ask you why the hell you avoided me all day! You didn’t talk to me a single time, you wouldn’t even look at me at dinner!” he nearly shouted back, clearly frustrated.
Shrinking into yourself, you quickly shot back “I wasn’t avoiding you. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh come on. This is ridiculous. If this is about last night then I don’t understand what you’re so worked up about.”
You froze, staring at him unblinking for a moment before muttering “Last night?” under your breath.
“Yes last night!” he snapped. “First I have to hear from Deuce this morning that you left the bar with Marco last night only to find the two of you in bed together! And then neither of you will even look at me all day? Why the fuck would you two not just talk to me?”
You eyes widened, “Woah woah woah I didn’t sleep with Marco, don’t be ridiculous. He’s like my older brother.” you muttered, adding “that’s gross” under your breath with a grimace.
Ace rolled his eyes with a huff, “Oh please. You expect me to believe that you just ended up with Marco in your bed after leaving the bar early with him yesterday? Hard to believe with your track record.”
“You shut your fucking mouth. You know nothing you intrepid asshole.” you seethed. “I left with Marco because I was upset by you! You leaving with that stupid fucking blonde wrapped around you. So don’t give me jack shit about my track record you dickhead!”
Your eyes shot wide as you watched Ace’s brows furrow in response to what you said. Oh shit, I just said that out loud. What the fuck do I say now?
“Okay,” he muttered, confusion evident on his face, “so you didn’t sleep with Marco. But why were you upset about me leaving with some random blonde girl? How is this any different from normal?”
Weighing your options in your head, none of them seemed good right now. So, in your state of sleep delirium (at least that’s what you chose to believe), you went with honesty. After a deep breath, you finally responded, “Because I like you Ace. I didn’t realize until last night. Usually I’m too drunk to think about it when you leave with some random girl and I leave after with some random guy. But it hurt last night. I didn’t know before.”
The tears started to fall as you shook your head when you took in his dumbfounded expression. You curled in on yourself as he sat there and stared at you, unmoving and unblinking in the darkness.
“You … you like me? You mean it?” he finally whispered. As soon as your head nodded, he launched out of the chair, planting his hands on either side of your face and crashing his lips into yours. Your eyes widened for a moment before you instinctually started to kiss him back, whining when he pulled away to look at you.
“I’ve liked you for ages you moron. I only hooked up with random girls all the time because I thought I had no shot with you. I. Like. You. So. Much.” he whispered, punctuating each word of the final sentence with a kiss. Your tears became tears of joy as you pulled him back into your lips, allowing him to nudge his tongue into your mouth as you fell back on your bed and he settled on top of you. His lips trailed down to your neck as he started to grind his bulge against you, eliciting a breathy moan.
“God I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you (Y/N). This doesn’t feel real.”
Yanking him back up to look him in the eyes, you slid you hand underneath his waist band to palm at his rapidly hardening cock. “Oh it’s real babe.” you snickered when his head dropped to your collarbone with a moan as you stroked his length.
“Lose this fucking shirt right now.”
Your hand retreated as he ripped your shirt over you head, immediately setting his lips to your collarbone in a trail of hickeys and bringing his hands up to tweak you nipples. His hips started to roll against your thigh as he trailed his lips down your sternum, before slowly moving his way down to your inner thighs. Bringing his fingers up to your cunt over your panties, he relished in the wet spot already starting to seep through.
“So wet for me already. What do you say we lose these?” he drawled with a smirk on his face as he snapped your waistband. With a gasp and an adamant nod from you, he hooked his fingers through them and dragged them down your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room as he settled back down in front of you. Eyes locked onto yours, you held your breath as Ace leaned forward and flicked his tongue up your slit, curling around your clit and groaning at your taste. You moaned out as he suddenly dove in, licking and sucking at the bundle of nerves as if it was his last meal.
“O-oh my god Ace oh my god.” you nearly whimpered as your hand trailed down to settle into his hair, the other fisting at the sheets below you as he brought two fingers up to your entrance, slipping them in with ease from how wet you were. The coil in your core was tightening rapidly as his fingers pumped inside you while his tongue continued its assault on your clit. The groan he let out in response to you pulling his hair vibrated through you, snapping the coil without warning as your thighs tightened around his head. Eliciting a nearly guttural moan from you, Ace’s tongue lapped up everything you had to give him.
When your back finally flattened back onto the bed, Ace had already stripped himself of the rest of his clothes and was now hovering over you, face glistening with your slick as he looked down at you with a nearly sinister smirk. “You taste better than I could’ve ever imagined.” Settling himself down onto you, tip prodding at your entrance, he brought his mouth down to your own, immediately forcing his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself.
Finally pushing in, his breath hitched as your back arched and a moan escaped you, his hips quickly coming flush with yours as he snapped forward. Ace threw his head back as he brought your legs up over his shoulders, nearly putting you into a mating press as his cock nudged at your cervix. “So tight baby. God I’m going to fuck you into this mattress,” he muttered bringing his head down into your neck as his hips started to roll into yours experimentally. Bringing your hands over his shoulders, your nails digging into his back as he started to pick up the pace. He quickly started driving you into the mattress with what seemed to be almost all of the strength he could muster, planting blooming hickeys along your neck in the process.
Your legs slipped off his shoulders, only to wrap tightly around his waist as he continued to fuck into you like his life depended on it. The slapping of skin and both of your moans and groans rang throughout the room as Ace brought his hands up to yank your hips closer, watching your tits bounce as he fucked you.
The coil in your stomach began to tighten again, rapidly driving you towards the brink from the sheer force with which he rammed your g-spot. “A-ace ‘m so close p- fuck - please.”
“I got you love. C’mon (Y/N). Cum with me.” His fingers trailed down to your clit and started drawing fast circles on the swollen bud as his pace started to stutter, rapidly driving you both to the edge as you tightened around him. Ace’s hips snapped forward hard one final time as he spilled inside you with a low moan hidden in your neck, triggering your own release. He rocked his hips back and forth a few times to prolong both of your highs, planting his lips to your neck as the pleasure coursed through you.
Panting as his body slumped against yours, you brought your hand up to run your fingers through his hair as you both basked in the afterglow. Picking his head up, Ace leaned up to kiss you as he slid his softening cock out of you with a hiss, fighting the urge to fall asleep as he got up to pick up your shirt and his boxers.
“You know this is my shirt right?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and knowing grin. You grumbled in response, turning away with a blush coating your cheeks as he snickered and pulled the shirt over your head in spite of your muttering. “C’mere.” he muttered, pulling you into his chest as he flopped back onto your bed, yanking you over to settle against his chest as he traced his fingers over your hip.
“You’re mine now y’know. Not letting anyone else touch you. Marco included.” Ace suddenly whispered against your hair. You snickered in response “I can’t believe you were jealous of Marco of all people. As if. He’s always just been my brother Ace.”
“Yeah yeah whatever. Go to sleep so we can see the look on his face in the morning.” You laughed in response, realizing he had fallen asleep immediately after muttering the last word. With a soft smile, you nestled into his chest and let sleep claim you again, this time much more contently with Ace finally in your arms.
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a/n: shawty🙇🏻‍♀️ i had way too much fun writing this one
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odetodilfs · 10 months
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Stress relief
A/N: So here it is, power bottom Namor, this was so hot to write, this is also my first Namor smut so yay. Pairing: power bottom!Namor x sub!top!male!reader CWs: SMUT, established relationship (marriage), slight overstimulation, riding, ass eating (reader giving), edging, use of "good boy" and breeding
IF YOU LIKED THIS PLEASE REBLOG CAUSE IT HELPS ME REACH MORE PEOPLE!!
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Namor had been stressed all week. Especially with ships going seemingly closer to Talokan for no reason, which meant he was watching out more for submarines and human ships that weren’t from Wakanda. Overall, your husband was stressed, very easy to anger. He did calm down a little with you though, he would still try to treasure you just as much as he did when he wasn’t stressed which in turn just gave him more things to do. You seriously wanted to help him, it was hard to see him like this. You had no ideas how to though… until you found him bent over, his ass popping out and you got an idea on how to make him calm down…
That day when he left to guard Talokan, you put your plan to work. You waited for him to get home, doing your usual tasks of the day, but half an hour before he normally got home, you stripped yourself off your clothes entirely and laid down on your bed. You started jerking off slowly, to the thought of Namor dominating you. His round ass on your dick, rubbing his hole yet he didn’t put it in just to tease you. Your cock was hard by now but you just kept stroking it. You wanted Namor to find you, you knew he hated you being pleased by anyone that wasn’t him, including your own hand. When you heard him swim into the house, you waited for him to call you, “Y/n? I’m home!” he announced, you started jerking off a little faster, making tiny little moans come out of your mouth. Namor had good hearing so he immediately went upstairs to check.
What he saw was a horny, desperate you jerking off, without his permission, he immediately went into a state of horny frustration, “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked you, brows furrowed, clearly mad “Please- Namor- I need you- please-” you begged “I couldn’t hold back… please…” you said in your most desperate tone, 
“What happened to being a good boy? What happened to being my good boy?” he asked, teasing your cock already “Please- I need you so bad” you kept begging. He started undressing, his gorgeous bubble butt popping out again. He got on all fours with his ass towards your face, “Be a good boy and eat me out good” he commanded, not asked, commanded, you immediately did, tasting his ass and losing yourself in the taste.
Namor was not merciful this time, he was enjoying destressing with your face buried between his cheeks. He continued thrusting and pushing your face until he considered it was enough of licking his hole. Namor was definitely horned up and more relaxed now, and he grunted as he eased himself up on his knees, your cock pointing at his hole. You were so hard now, you genuinely needed release, eating Namor’s ass had you horned up and you didn’t touch yourself. As he slowly sank down your length, you moaned as he did almost too slowly. He took your hands and pinned them to the bed frame with his right hand. 
“Christ, so desperate for me, and it’s only been a week” he said as he started slowly going up and down, making a grunt every time your cock hit his g spot. His large dick was hard, going up and down with him too. You dick was so hard and throbbing inside him, Namor was tight after you hadn’t had him for a week and his walls stroked your cock just right. You were so eager and desperate it was hard to hold back and you knew your orgasm would come soon. Your moans and whimpers filled the room “Good boy, keep making those sounds… fuck…” he said as rode your cock even faster, thrusting his head up at the pleasure you were giving him. 
Namor’s moans were on another level, he was lost in his mind, using you for his own pleasure, he needed this, he had for the whole week. He was bouncing up and down by now, every thrust hitting his prostate as you tensed up and shouted “Oh god-” as you were about to cum, but Namor pulled you out before it could happen, there were almost tears in your eyes with how desperate you were to cum, “Shhh” he calmed you down as you were left writhing in need of release, his brown eyes looking at yours intently, as he placed himself on your cock again.
This time he just started full on slamming up and down onto your cock, “Come on, just a little longer, good boy” he said, your orgasm was close and since Namor still had your hands pinned you couldn’t grip the bed sheets to hold back your orgasm. Your teeth were gritted and your body felt extremely hot, you were gonna bust any second now, but Namor’s riding started getting sloppier, his breaths faster and his moans louder… and then, the said those golden words: “It’s okay, you can cum for me now” he said. You almost screamed as you let go and unleashed a large load into him. 
Namor kept riding you in pursuit of his own orgasm, now the pleasure started to turn into overstimulation, but before it got too much, you felt him cum. His ass tightened around your cock and he released a load into the water, you were both left panting and tired, still coming down from your high.
“Was that good?” you asked, Namor released your hands at long last,
“I needed that.. thank you” he smiled at you, you smiled back at your husband, pulling him in for a kiss and flopping to cuddle him on the bed, “I love you” you said as you kissed his forehead, he laid his head on your chest with a smile, you could feel his facial hair on your skin, “I love you too” he said in that sweet accent of his. Needless to say, Namor was definitely less stressed after that.
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ithebookhoarder · 1 year
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A Work in Progress (Din Djarin x Mechanic!Reader)
Summary: Working at Peli’s repair shop, you’d never expected to find yourself growing close to a customer - let alone a Mandalorian, of all people. Yet, somehow, with every visit you seem to be getting just a little closer to the mysterious man behind the Beskar...
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A/N: First of all, I love my Mando baby, and have been dying to write for him. So, thanks to the anon who sent me the message about Din being Demi-sexual. You really gave me the inspiration for this one. Also, I have to say, I totally agree with your head canon. Personally, I know what it feels like to have to have a close connection before you can even feel remotely attracted to someone. With Din’s beliefs and practises I feel he would need to feel connected before he could consider entering a relationship with you, let alone a physical one - but that’s just my opinion...
Warnings: N/A - but let me know if you think I missed any
Masterlist
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You’ve grown to know the Mandalorian quite well in the last couple of years; he’s a frequent customer at the junk yard and repair shop you work at, having returned multiple times since he’d first been forced to ask you for repairs. 
The Razor Crest was now a familiar ship and a smile always slid into place as soon as you saw it entering the atmosphere. Sure, you were instantly rewarded with Peli’s teasing, but you knew she meant no harm - if anything, she seemed to have a soft spot for the Mandalorian and the tiny green child he now towed about with him. 
Why else did she give him such a big discount? 
Why else did she always insist you prioritise him over any customers you already had waiting? 
Why else did she make sure you were the one to do the work - her ’best damn mechanic in the whole galaxy’ - when she could have done it herself? 
He would only get the best… which was probably why he always tipped the best too.
In fact, more than once, you’d been surprised by the purse of credits he’d place in your hand just before leaving, refusing to take it back no matter how much you protested. 
“Mando… This… this is too much.” 
“No,” he’d chuckle, “it’s the least you deserve.”
“But, it was a simple job-”
“Simple? Yes, but you did it well. You earned it, so keep the money. Please.” 
What else could you do but accept? It was just part of your odd relationship and the steady routine you’d fallen in to as time had gone by. 
Just like how he’d always make sure to talk to you when he was around, letting you ask questions about what he’d been up to since you’d last saw one another. 
Just like how he’d let you tend to his wounds, once or twice, after a hunt had gone a little awry and he was unable to do so for himself. 
Just like how he’d started bringing you little things from his trips to different planets, including the beaded necklace you never took off.  
It was all of these things that made him your favourite customer… that made you consider him more as a friend and a good one, at that. You were also pretty sure he felt the same. Otherwise, there were plenty other places he could have chosen to spend his time, but he chose to spend it with you. 
Today was one of those days. 
For some reason, Mando had managed to secure his bounty much earlier than expected and cashed in the reward he’d been chasing. As such, you weren’t quite finished with making sure his ship was safe to fly again. You’d thought you’d have a couple more days at least. 
He assured you there was no rush - he wasn’t desperate to leave the planet anytime soon - which was a relief. You hadn’t been ready to say goodbye just yet, nor had you had the ship ready for him either. 
Still, you were also kind of happy at the change in schedule, especially when it meant that Mando had decided to loiter next to you, watching as you finished your work. And, Maker above, did you love to having him there… even if it made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 
It didn’t matter that you couldn’t see his face, concealed as it was behind that helmet of his. You’d learned his mannerisms well enough to understand him through his body language and modulated voice-box. 
Like now, for example, the way his head tilted and seemed to track you as you dithered about the place told you he was studying you with great interest. You could even swear you heard the odd hum of approval… but that could also have been from the child, who was also watching you eagerly from his perch next to Peli’s office.  
“You know you can rewire this so it doesn’t blow so often.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah,” you chuckle, turning to stare at the Mandalorian, surprising him with your suggestion. You knew he was a capable mechanic in his own right, having made enough patch jobs over the years to see him through his travels. Still, you could tell he enjoyed listening to you and sharing your expertise. “Come here and I’ll show you. That way you won’t have to come in the next time it starts acting up… or force that sweet baby to climb inside the engine.”  
“O… ok - but I would argue it was only once.”
“Still! He’s a baby!”
The Mandalorian chuckled under his breath, and held his hands up in surrender. He knew better than to fight with you on something like this. “Alright, I get your point. It was a bad idea. You better show me how to do it myself then.”  
If you didn’t know better, you’d have said he almost sounded disappointed at the prospect of not needing to visit so often. However, he dutifully slotted into place next to you and began handing you tools when you asked for them, like you’d been working together your whole lives. 
You spent the rest of the day like that; passing tools between you and talking, feeling the tension grow every time yours hands brushed one another. Every time your gazes met. Every time you’d laugh at something the other said. 
It felt good… it felt, easy… it felt right - like something between you had clicked into place as easily as the machinery you’d been working on. 
If only you could understand it so well. 
Instead, your heart was in your mouth as darkness fell over the planet. For the first time since you’d met the Mandalorian, you actually felt nervous. You didn’t know why considering how well you knew one another by this point in your lives, but perhaps it was because you were supposed to be closing up the repair shop soon. 
It was now past closing time, if you were being honest, but you’d been having too much fun with Mando to even consider dismissing him for the night. Besides, Peli wasn’t even back yet to lock up and Mando was making no effort to try and leave. If he was still around it was because he wanted to be. 
Or so you told yourself as you tried not to blush for the hundredth time that day. It was just hard when his hand kept brushing against yours, and he was always somehow stood right next to you, despite having the whole garage to yourselves. The amount of times you kept turning around and bumping into him was getting comical now. 
“So,” he started, surprising you as he tore you from your frantic thoughts. “Don’t you have someone back at home to rush off to? I’m sure they’re probably wondering where you are.” 
“I uh… it’s still just me,” you answered quietly, surprised by the somewhat personal question. Sure, you often talked about personal things, things you never talked about with other customers, but his curious tone still caught you off guard. “No one to worry about me, thankfully. Means I can put in the extra hours here, given how busy we’ve been lately.” 
The Mandalorian hummed to himself. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes after, which was enough to make your nerves fray even more. Your hands were shaking so badly you practically dropped your tools as you tried to put them away neatly, back in their boxes. 
It was the heat of his eyes on you that made you feel light headed. What you wouldn’t give to know what was going on inside that helmet of his… 
“What about you? I know you have the kid now,” you replied hastily. “No one else in your crew to keep you two out of trouble?” 
“Uh, no. Just us two, still.” 
“Oh.”
Now it was your turn to fall silent as you tried not to read into the answer. Of course he didn’t have anyone given his private nature and slightly nomadic lifestyle. He’d only even taken Grogu on thanks to the failed bounty, rather than simply because he’d wanted company… even if you knew he was grateful for it nonetheless. 
“Can… can I ask you a question?”
You nodded. “Of course. Shoot.” 
“Do you … that is… dank ferrik, do you like me?” 
You blinked in surprise. You hadn’t expected that question. “Uh… of course, I do. Don’t you like me too?”
“Yes… but… I mean, not just as friends? or as a customer?” 
A small laugh escaped you as you realised he sounded every bit as nervous as you did. 
“Mando, you stopped being just a customer a long time ago. Ever since you brought me back those cookies from the market because you simply thought I looked hungry.” 
His warm laughter made your heart flutter. “I’m still sorry you only got to eat a few.”
“Who knew the little tyke had got so clever, huh?”
“That’s one word for it.” 
You couldn’t help but feel the paternal pride radiating off of the Mandalorian at the mention of his adopted son and his ever growing abilities. 
You could also feel the tension, building with every second his original question went unanswered. 
If you didn’t know better, you’d have sworn the bounty hunter was blushing, even beneath the beskar helmet that concealed the face you’d often dreamed about. 
As it was, he flexed his hands by his sides, as if trying to rid himself of his anxiety. 
“So, if I’m not just a customer then can I ask what that makes me?” 
He’d taken the words right from your mouth. 
Well, maybe you didn’t need words after all to communicate how you really felt about the man who had slowly stolen your heart piece by piece, with every visit... 
So, you took a deep breath. 
You stepped forward. 
To your relief, he didn’t flinch or step back from your advance - or shoot you point blank. 
No. Instead, his head titled and you heard him begin to try and ask you what was happening. 
“Y/n-“
He never got to finish the sentence. 
He was rendered speechless as you gently reached your oil stained hands up and rested them on either side of his helmet, holding him as if there wasn’t the layer between you both. 
You then rose swiftly on to your tiptoes, before pressing a kiss against where his forehead would be. 
The metal was cold under your lips. Yet, before you could worry that you’d somehow made an ass of yourself, his hands rose to rest delicately on your hips and pull you closer. 
His touch sent shivers through you, the feel of him holding you electric - even through the gloves. 
His head then tilted forward, so that the helmet was resting against your forehead instead, the gesture meaningful enough to make your heart skip a beat. 
“That uh… that answer your question for you?” 
A soft chuckle escaped him, causing you to release one of your own; it was all too surreal. 
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Here you were, in your garage, blushing like some school kid with their first crush, after kissing the customer you’d never even seen without his armour disguising him… yet you knew him. 
Or, at least you knew what was important to know about him - enough to know he was a good person. A kind person. And a lonely one… 
“I think that clears most of it up, yes,” the Mandalorian murmured. “And there was me thinking I was imagining things.”
“Imagining things?”
“Yes, like that you weren’t just being nice because you were working on my ship, for example. Or because Peli asked you to be.”
“Peli asks me to do a lot of things, Mando, and I don’t know how you haven’t noticed by now that I don’t always do them.” 
Your laughter was unanimous, and loud enough that you both almost missed the sound of footsteps echoing from beyond the doorway - followed by a broken cough.  
“So this is what you call working?” 
You froze. 
Both you and the Mandalorian suddenly leapt apart as if you’d been burned. 
Thankfully, the owner of the voice waited a few more seconds before entering the room, giving you ample time to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had been happening only seconds ago. 
"You're… you’re early, Peli,” you choke, trying not to die of embarrassment as your boss sauntered into the garage. The smile on her face was a smug one, as if she knew exactly what had been happening. “I thought you wouldn’t be back until later.” 
"Good thing I decided to swing by early or I might have walked in on you two doing something entirely different," she teased, raising an eyebrow at the sight. “I’m just glad - by the sounds of it - you finally got your heads out of your asses and made a move. The tension was getting unbearable.“
"Oh… right.” 
"Be gentle with them, alright? They're a gentle soul,” Peli stated simply, gesturing to you. “And my best mechanic. Just remember that, Mando. You break it, you buy it.” 
You and Din were in unison without even trying as you both suddenly turned. 
“Shut up, Peli.”
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ghostofskywalker · 1 year
Note
May I please request something where the (gn preferably) reader breaks their glasses during a mission so tech makes them a pair of goggles like his?
anon this is actually the cutest idea ever and as someone whose eyesight is terrible without my contacts (i used to wear glasses but not as much anymore) i understand the struggle <3
words: 2,454
summary: when an accident on the marauder leaves you without your glasses for an unknown period of time, tech takes matters into his own hands and makes you a replacement pair of goggles that match his own.
clone troopers masterlist
Seeing Double
“Kriff!” you swore slightly louder than you originally wanted to, but in your defense, this situation warranted it.
“Everything okay?” Hunter’s voice echoed from the device on your wrist, and it was at that point that you realized you had apparently forgotten to mute yourself on the comms, so the entire squad had just heard your outburst.
“Yeah, just that my glasses broke,” you said, trying to find collect the pieces from the dashboard of the Marauder. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, except for the fact that it was currently nighttime and you needed them to see where you were going.
“Can you still steer the ship?’ Echo’s voice came through the device next. “We’re going to need a pickup soon.”
You weren’t too confident about your abilities at this point, but you also couldn’t let the team down. “It’ll be fine for a little while, but once you get back someone else needs to handle the controls.”
“Alright, as long as you don’t need one of us to go back there now.”
That was the last thing you wanted, because you were still a new member of the team and you definitely didn’t want them to think you weren’t capable. “No, just let me know when and where you need to be picked up from.”
The communication device went silent not long after that, and you were left to sit down in the pilot’s seat and attempt to repair your glasses. The actual lenses themselves seemed to still be intact, but one of the supports that rested behind your ear had come off (due to the fact that they had fallen to the floor and you stepped on the one side before you realized what had happened). But there was one flaw when it came to attempting to appraise the damage, and that was the fact that when they weren’t on your face, you couldn’t see all that well.
You weren’t blind per se (they had let you into the GAR after looking at your eye charts and seeing the glasses you wore every day), but you certainly didn’t see the world in high resolution when you didn’t have the lenses on your face. You had previously considered those tiny clear things that you saw friends put into their eyes, that would completely negate the need for you to wear glasses, but at the same time the idea of putting your fingers too close to your eye was a little bit nerve wracking (you knew the process certainly wasn’t for the faint of heart).
And you hadn’t experienced any issues with your glasses interfering with your work so far, or at least, not until now. Clone Force 99 had accepted you with open arms (well, it had taken a while in the case of one particularly grumpy sniper) when you had been assigned to them. Your technical title was “medic,” although you were also well-versed in mechanics and was qualified enough to repair the ship if necessary. You sometimes wondered if that acceptance had something to do with the fact that one of the members of the squad also wore lenses of some kind on his face, and if was, you were grateful to Tech.
If asked, you would probably cite Tech as your favorite member of the squad, and it wasn’t just because of your shared facial accessory. Even if you didn’t know whether or not his goggles were prescription or he just simply wore them for convenience, the two of you got along fairly well, which was a surprise because you were essentially assigned to them to do some of Tech’s job. But even though others might have seen you as a threat, you and the squad’s resident genius worked well together.
Bringing your focus back to the situation at hand, you realized that there was going to be no way to reattach the arm of your glasses without some kind of bonding agent (due to the place that the material had fractured and split apart when you stepped on it), and you gently pulled them up to your face. They certainly drooped on the side that had no support, but you would be able to see well enough to fly the ship for a few minutes until someone else could take over.
And it was a good thing that you could see at all, because the batch radioed in just a few minutes later, sending you a set of coordinates and telling you to step on it because they had met some hostiles.
Getting in the air was the easy part, but a flying animal that came out of nowhere shocked you to the point where you had to stop short, and your glasses came flying off your head. There was nothing you could do but watch as they clattered down the dashboard of the ship and once again fell and skittered across the floor, so far out of your reach that you knew there was no chance you could recover them before you had to move again. Instead, you would be flying blind (in the literal sense of the expression).
You were sure that the rest of the squad could tell that something was up when they saw the ship arrive at the coordinates, flying slightly tilted and having stopped short before you extended the ramp for them to get in. “Can someone come up here and take the controls?” you called out.
No one answered, but soon footsteps approached the cockpit and you turned around to see Tech walking towards you with his helmet under his arm. You stood up to greet him, but right as you opened your mouth to speak, the sound of transparisteel breaking filled the space, and the two of you looked down in horror as Tech lifted up his boot slightly to reveal your glasses, now completely shattered beyond repair. “Oh my,” he said as he looked at the carnage on the floor. “I deeply apologize, I did not know that was there.”
“It’s okay,” you said, still in some form of shock, but you didn’t want to make Tech feel bad over something he couldn’t control. “It wasn’t your fault, we’ll just need to put in an order with the Republic for some new glasses the next time we reach out to them.”
“That may be quite a while,” Tech responded, having reached down to collect the bent and disfigured remains of the glasses frame off the floor. “I may be able to-”
“Tech,” you cut him off gently, and he looked up at you as you placed your hand on his shoulder. “It’s not a big deal, I’ll be able to survive without them for a little while.”
“Alright,” he said, standing up. “In the meantime, you should rest. The assignment was a success and I will fly the ship until we stop for fuel or the next mission objective comes in.”
You just nodded and headed off to the bunks. You knew that sometimes if you went for a while without your glasses it could lead to headaches as your eyes strained to perform their usual function, so you wanted to avoid that as much as you possibly could (especially if you weren’t going to get new ones for a while). And as you drifted off to sleep to the sound of Gonky moving across the ship in the background, you really hoped that you’d be able to contact the Republic soon.
***
As he watched you leave the room, Tech couldn’t help but feel bad. You had assured him that none of this was his fault and that you weren’t angry at him, but he also knew how stressful it was to be living a life without corrective lenses when your eyesight was not that good. He had seen your glasses before and guessed that your level of nearsightedness was similar to his, and he would never want to spend any amount of time without his goggles, let alone an uncertain and extended period of it. He cleaned the small pile of debris off the floor and placed them in a small container once the ship had entered hyperspace, and for a while he just watched the blue streaks pass him by.
And it was as he watched out through the windshield of the ship that he had an idea.
His goggles were a thing of his own creation, and sometimes different parts needed replacing. Because of that, he had began keeping a small box of parts and pieces on the ship, with enough to make at least two other sets (just in case his primary pair was ruined beyond repair). If your prescription was similar to his, you might be able to wear a matching pair of goggles for a while, or at least until they could contact the Republic and order new glasses for you.
Right as he got up from the pilot’s seat, Hunter stepped into the cockpit. “Oh good, I was just about to call for you,” Tech said. “Can you watch the ship for a little while? I have something urgent to attend to.”
Hunter just nodded, and Tech was thankful that his brother didn’t ask too many questions so he couldn’t be slowed down. He wanted to have them ready for you by the time he next saw you, this way you didn’t have to go too long without any kind of visual aid.
He found the box of parts under his bunk, and after checking to make sure you were asleep in yours, he got to work, pulling the curtain around his cot to keep some privacy about what he was doing.
The shattered pieces of your original lenses turned out to be of some use to him, because he was able to calibrate the goggles to perfectly match your needs. It was much easier than he originally thought it might be, and by the time he could hear movement from outside his bunk, he was just putting the finishing touches on the goggles.
Wondering whether it was you or Wrecker that had woken up, he poked his head out to see you yawn and stretch. Quietly calling your name as to not startle you, Tech got out of bed and beckoned at you to follow him. “Is everything okay?” you asked, blinking as a brighter part of the ship came into view, and Tech quickly moved the hand that was holding the goggles behind his back so you couldn’t see what they were.
“I still feel terrible about your glasses,” he said. You opened your mouth (no doubt to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault), but he held up one of his hands to stop you and the other with the pair of newly constructed goggles in it. “And since I know the repercussions of spending extended periods of time without them, I made you something. I apologize if it is not a style you like, but I only had the materials to reconstruct my goggles and I figured it was better than nothing.”
You were silent as you took the goggles from his outstretched hand, but from the smile on your face, Tech knew that you weren’t spurning his gift. “Thank you,” you eventually said as you placed them on your face. “I love them.”
“I was able to use my scanner to match and calibrate this pair to the same level of magnification as your glasses,” he said.
You nodded, looking around the ship. “Thank you so much Tech. I really can’t believe you would do something like this, I’m so grateful.”
Tech went to respond, but you pulled him into a hug before he could get any words out. “You are very welcome,” he eventually managed to say.
“If you ever need anything from me,” you said. “Please don’t hesitate-”
He cut you off before you could finish your sentence. “I don’t want you to think that you are somehow in debt to me,” he said. “I did this because I wanted to help you, not because I wanted to gain something.”
For a fleeting moment, you looked like you were going to cry, and Tech’s eyes widened as you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek, your goggles knocking slightly against his. “I know,” you said. “But still, I want to thank you somehow. Maybe if we can get away from your brothers, I can take you out to dinner the next time we’re on Coruscant?”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Those words were accompanied by a surprised (and hopeful) expression. He had of course taken you in as a member of the team, but it had recently been more apparent to him that how he felt about you was different than how he felt towards other people. He had always hoped that you felt the same way, but was never sure how to broach the topic.
“Yes,” you said, a smile on your face. “Are you accepting?”
“Yes.”
Tech stared at you for a moment, and you stared right back. He started to lean in, and you mirrored his movements. He was just finishing up calculations on how to best kiss you without bumping either set of goggles when he heard footsteps approaching, and he instinctively pulled back.
You apparently had the same idea, and the two of you turned in shock to stare at Hunter, who had just stepped out of the cockpit and had an exasperated look on his face. Whatever hope Tech had of keeping this new relationship development a secret was now completely dead, because with Hunter’s enhanced hearing he must have been able to hear everything before this moment.
And with the two of you wearing both matching expressions and goggles, it must have been a sight to behold for his brother. Hunter opened his mouth, but then closed it before taking a breath. “I’m going to take a nap,” is what he eventually settled on. “Can you two watch the cockpit?”
Tech was halfway through a confirmation of Hunter’s request before his brother had walked completely past them to disappear in the direction of the bunks, and right as he disappeared you quickly leaned in to place a soft (and far too quick, in his opinion) kiss on Tech’s lips.
The cockpit offered a better view anyway, and although it wasn’t completely shielded from his brothers, it was much more private than just standing in the middle of the ship. They didn’t have a lot of time before everyone else woke up and their little secret spread like wildfire through the ship, and Tech wanted to make the most of the peace and quiet.
- the end -
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hairstevington · 11 months
Text
i can't tune you out (part 1)
Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Summary: Eddie Munson is an up-and-coming rock and roll artist living in LA. Steve Harrington (under the stage name HARVEST) has been taking the radio by storm lately. When the fans start shipping them together as a couple, Steve and Eddie consider it an opportunity to boost their upcoming albums. There's just one problem - they can't stand each other. (Link to Ao3)
Part 2 Part 3 - the rest on Ao3!
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Rockstar!Eddie, Indie!Steve, modern day AU, enemies to lovers, slow burn, fake dating/PR relationship, they are both assholes lowkey but they'll get better later in the fic I promise, Drunk!Steve, Nancy is still a heartbreaker, oh look Robin and Chrissy are also here
A/N: Here you have it folks, the much awaited return of Rockstar!Eddie. I've had this story on the backburner for a while now and am so excited to dive into it! Don't worry - I will be updating Flowers and Ink soon, I just got inspired and wrote this first chapter as a little teaser for you all ;)
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It all started with a t-shirt. 
Steve was playing his own show the night Robin went to a Corroded Coffin concert with a friend from work. He wasn’t upset or anything, because Robin had been to Steve’s shows countless times in the past. Besides, he didn’t like Corroded Coffin’s music anyway. 
Apparently, Robin liked the show enough to go to the merch table, where she bought a Corroded Coffin t-shirt, and the rest is history.
-
“Ridiculous,” Steve muttered to himself. His dryer was busted AGAIN, which meant he had to call the stupid landlord to have it fixed AGAIN. 
He’d been so busy with shows that he hadn’t had a lot of time to do laundry, and this was him finally catching up. Of course, the damn thing broke. Now he had no clothes. 
He sighed and went to the designated Robin drawer she insisted she have at Steve’s apartment. She was there a lot of nights anyway, so she always kept some pajamas and things just in case. Thank god for Robin’s love of oversized clothing. 
He grabbed the first shirt he saw, threw it on, and headed to the grocery store. 
Steve wasn’t even conscious of what the shirt said. Maybe he should have glanced in the mirror before he left, but he was tired and just needed to get food for the week. He’d been out of town on tour for a while now, so there was nothing at home. 
People were staring at him, but that wasn’t too unusual. His stage name was HARVEST, which was nice because he could separate himself from his music when he wanted to. His persona when he performed was vastly different to the guy wandering a grocery store in his best friend’s clothes, and he liked that. It was freeing. It gave him some semblance of privacy, because most fans of his music didn’t even know his real name. 
The more devoted fans, however…
People took his picture sometimes without asking first. That was common. It wasn’t great, but it was common. Steve was never that concerned with looking ugly on the internet, anyway. Although, if people went up to him and asked, he usually said yes if they were nice about it. 
It took about three hours for the notifications to pour in. Steve ignored them, at first. His publicist would handle whatever it was. But then, Robin called. 
“Steve!” she greeted when he answered. “You wore my shirt out?”
“Uh, yeah?” Steve responded. He looked down to see that it was a band t-shirt. Nothing too crazy about it. “That okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” she assured him. “It’s just funny because somehow now people think you’re Corroded Coffin’s number one fan.”
“That’s…strange,” Steve said, confused. “All because I wore their shirt one time?”
“Yeah, well people looked into it and they found out you and Eddie Munson went to high school together -”
“Ah,” Steve acknowledged, starting to understand. 
“- and now people are shipping you with him and all that.”
“Wait, what?” Steve’s face fell. “They’re - Like, that’s insane. It’s only been a few hours and - I mean, I don’t even know the guy.”
“Yeah, but do you remember that TikTok you made last year?” she asked. “The one where you took the metal song and stripped it down, sang it in your style instead?”
“Uh, yeah, I think so.” 
Steve did that a few times with a variety of genres. He liked taking music to weird and unexpected places. So, sometimes when there was a viral song or sound, he’d put his own spin on it. 
“Okay, well that was a Corroded Coffin song,” Robin explained. 
“It…was?” Steve genuinely had no idea. He didn’t look into the artist before he’d made the video. 
“Yeah,” she confirmed. “You seriously didn’t know?”
“No,” Steve answered. “So, that combined with the t-shirt and now people think I’m having an affair with this guy or something?” He scoffed. He’d never understand why people were so hellbent on creating stories from nothing.
“It’s just the internet, Steve,” Robin replied. “People say all kinds of things.”
“Yeah, but -” Steve sighed, shutting his eyes tightly. It wasn’t just that he was being shipped with some random guy, it was that Steve wasn’t even out yet. It was kind of a whole thing he and his team had been working on. His new album was supposed to announce it, not some random pairing based on zero evidence.
“Yeah, I know,” Robin said. Steve knew she understood completely, even without him saying anything. She knew his sexuality before he did. “I promise it’s not a huge deal. Sorry the internet sucks.”
“Thanks,” Steve responded. He hung up, groaned, and collapsed onto his couch, where he fell into a deep sleep. 
-
“Eddie, we can use this.”
Eddie held back the groan he so desperately wanted to let out. He was on the phone with his manager, Carla, who had just told him that people online were pairing him with some other musician that Eddie had heard on the radio a few times and - yikes. It wasn’t his vibe. 
“Use it for…?” he asked, completely nonplussed. He picked up a rubber band ball on his desk and rolled it around in his hands. 
“You both have albums coming out soon,” she continued. “So, if you’re dating him then - I mean, think of the publicity.”
“Dating him?” Eddie echoed, confused. “Aren’t we jumping the gun, here? Do we even know if this dude likes other dudes in the first place?”
“No, but you should find out,” Carla insisted. “I mean, it’s HARVEST, Eddie. His music is everywhere right now.”
Eddie knew that much, at least. He didn’t listen to the music when he could help it, but people talked about it all the time. The mysterious HARVEST who wore disguises on stage and left cryptic posts on social media. Eddie couldn’t think of a single person he wanted to date less, and he didn’t even know the guy’s name or what he looked like. 
Eddie, on the other hand, had been busting his ass to maintain the little audience he’d accumulated over the last five years. Corroded Coffin started as a high school passion project, then devolved into a more serious band that played sporadic shows in his hometown, and then went through a series of changes and replacements until Eddie was the only original part of it that remained. Well, that and the name, of course. 
Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin. They were pretty much synonymous at this point. The fans he had knew who he was and what he looked like. He rarely used social media, but when he interacted with fans he was blunt and to the point. No games. No mystery. This HARVEST guy kinda seemed like a tool. 
“Yeah, I’ll pass,” Eddie said, snapping one of the rubber bands rhythmically. 
“Eddie,” Carla prodded. “If you do this, you’ll blow up. Think of what you could do with the money. Merch. A tour. A vacation. A new house. Whatever you wanted, you could get.”
Money sounded nice, but it’s not like Eddie was living in poverty or anything. Well, he was in a tiny apartment in a shitty area of town, but it was Los Angeles. Who could afford anything more than that? Besides, he’d lived in places that small and shitty his whole life. Then again, he’d never had any other choice. Money would give him the choice. 
The popularity aspect was also intriguing, because Eddie loved attention almost as much as he loved music. Sure, there were downsides to fame, but he adored the glimpses of it he’d had so far, and it’s not like being around HARVEST was going to turn him into Leo DiCaprio or something. 
“Okay, so if I agree to this, what does that mean? Do you want me to DM him or something?”
“Actually,” Carla said. The playfulness in her tone caused Eddie to drop the rubber-band ball, because she only talked like that when she had a creative idea that he tended not to like. “He’s going to be at this launch party tonight that I may or may not have gotten you an invite to…”
Yup. That sounds about right. 
“So you want me to crash the party and proposition this guy?” Eddie asked. 
“Of course not,” she replied. “You’re invited, so it’s not crashing.”
Eddie had to chuckle at that one. She was a sneaky one, sometimes, and damn good at her job. 
“Fine,” Eddie agreed. “Send me the details and I might go.”
“Will do!” Carla responded. He could hear how excited this made her, and he was glad at least one of them was into this whole thing. ���You don’t have to do anything too wild, okay? Even if you’re just spotted with him, it will spread the narrative that something is going on. Deal?”
It felt a little gross to go somewhere just to track a random guy down and cling to him for popularity. It was kind of a dick move, really. Then again, Eddie was kind of a dick. 
“Deal,” he replied. 
-
“This will never not be the coolest thing to ever happen to me,” Robin said, as she always does when Steve takes her as his plus one to events.
“Yeah, well since Nancy dumped my ass, get used to it,” he teased. “You’ll be filling in for a while.” Steve nudged her shoulder, causing her to laugh. She was wearing this beautiful, brand new jumpsuit. It was pressed and ironed and cost almost a full paycheck. Lucky for her, she didn’t have to pay for it. Steve was doing pretty damn well for himself financially.
The Uber driver pulled up to the bar and dropped them off. Since it was the grand opening or something, the place was entirely closed off and only people on a list were allowed in. 
“Name?” the security guard said at the door. 
“Uh,” Steve stuttered. He never knew which name was on these stupid lists. “Steve Harrington, and my guest.” He gestured to Robin beside him, who blushed. 
The security guard nodded, crossed them off, then opened the door for them to go inside. 
“Holy shit!” Robin said as they walked in. The place was nice, even by Steve’s standards. They headed to the bar to order their first round of drinks. 
Steve went to these kinds of things pretty often - he’d go, have a few drinks, hang out with people, then do it all again a few weeks later. He enjoyed them, for the most part. 
Well, except for one thing. 
Steve choosing to do music under the stage name HARVEST was great in a lot of ways. It was kind of like the whole Miley Cyrus vs Hannah Montana thing, except Steve wasn’t gonna show up to these parties wearing sunglasses, a wig, and an ugly vest - his signature look when he performed. He showed up as Steve, who was a nobody, and that felt kind of lame. To everyone else at the party, he just looked like a normal guy. Even Robin stood out more than he did. 
Steve had this whole thing where HARVEST rarely posted anything or did interviews, and when he did he was in disguise and using a voice changer. It started as a joke and then just…stuck. HARVEST was a completely separate entity from Steve. HARVEST was all the parts of him that made him popular in high school, and Steve was whatever was left underneath. 
He and Robin enjoyed the night anyway. They were handing out some sponsored cocktail throughout the night until everyone was good and drunk. Whatever was in that thing was lethal. Steve had only had two and he was feeling pretty tipsy. Robin was already on the dance floor after one. She’d pulled him to the photo area while a slower song played, urging him to get a picture with her and commemorate the night before she got too sweaty from dancing. 
They held up their branded glasses and smiled. The light flashed so bright they both winced, then laughed at their dramatic reaction. When they began stumbling away from the camera, Robin paused. 
“What?” Steve asked, confused. 
“Eddie Munson is here,” she said. 
“Where?” Steve asked. She pointed vaguely in Eddie’s direction, trying to act like she was just playing with her hair. Steve searched the room until his eyes locked in on the curly-haired brunette that the world wanted him to be with, apparently. Eddie was at the bar, talking up some of the other guests. “What is he doing here?” Robin shrugged. 
Steve had never seen Eddie at one of these parties before. His band wasn’t really that popular. Their only claim to fame so far was a chorus of one of their songs going viral on TikTok. Then, like an idiot, Steve had done a cover of the damn song, and now he was in a whole mess of a situation. Eddie Munson was going to inadvertently reveal Steve’s bisexuality before his album even came out. 
It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, and Steve knew that. Fans were going to say what they were gonna say. But still, Eddie being at the party was a crazy coincidence, considering the circumstances. 
Steve took a sip from his third cocktail and decided not to think about it. 
-
Eddie had never in his life been invited to something like this before. He’d had to talk to a guard and get let in, like some bigshot celebrity. If being around this HARVEST guy gave Eddie more opportunities to go to shit like this, maybe it was worth it. 
Once he got inside, he went to the bar to get a drink. They were serving some cocktail that Eddie had no interest in drinking, so he ordered a whiskey on the rocks as he chatted with the people around him. They were all nice, although it was a bit too loud to have any actual conversation. Plus, most of the guests were well on their way to being drunk. 
All in all, it was Eddie’s exact kind of chaos. 
He scanned the room for a man that matched his only reference point of what HARVEST looked like. Eddie had seen a few pictures of him on stage, and his outfits were always a little out there. He had different hair every time, but his absurd style stayed consistent. 
Nobody at this goddamn party looked like that. 
“Hey,” Eddie said after nudging the person beside him. “You know where HARVEST is?”
He realized as soon as he asked that he probably could have just Googled him to see what he looked like. Whatever. 
“Uhh, you mean Steve?” the woman responded. “He’s here somewhere. His date is in this gorgeous glittery blue jumpsuit. Find her and you’ll find him. He follows her like a shadow.” She finished her description with a light chuckle. Eddie turned back to face the rest of the bar and continued searching the crowd.
Okay, first of all - Steve? The man, the myth, the legend known as HARVEST was actually just…a guy named Steve? Eddie almost burst out laughing. 
Secondly, he brought a date. Of course he brought a date. A woman, at that. Eddie wasn’t cool enough to have a plus one, but Steve on the other hand…
Wow. Eddie didn’t think he’d be able to find the glittery jumpsuit as fast as he did, but it really was a dead giveaway. It sparkled under the lights of the bar, and the girl next to Eddie was right - it was gorgeous. Steve’s date was gorgeous overall, actually. No wonder he was following her around. 
“Him?” Eddie asked, pointing to the guy dancing with the woman in the jumpsuit. 
“Yup,” the guest at the bar confirmed. She took the last sip of her cocktail and set the glass down on the counter. “So, do you wanna dance?”
Eddie froze. He wasn’t a huge fan of dancing in public, and he also wasn’t sure if this dance was just a dance or if it was something else. 
“Well, I, uhhhh -” he began. “I mean, I’m like - ya know - gay.” She laughed in response, her face red from the alcohol. 
“No shit,” she replied. “You obviously have heart eyes for Steve, and he’s dancing with someone else, so let’s go out there and you can make him jealous and I can dance until someone who likes women steals me away.”
Eddie grinned. This chick was dope. He held out his hand for her to take it, and then he walked her to the dance floor. He figured that he could strike up a conversation, get Steve to take a picture with him at the photo area, and then call it a night. 
“What’s your name, by the way?” he yelled over the music. 
“Chrissy!” she yelled back. 
“Eddie!” he responded. She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but notice how drop-dead gorgeous she was, too. Everyone at this party was perfect-looking, actually, and it was intimidating and weird. Eddie was grateful he'd decided to wear his nicer clothes. 
And then they danced. Eddie did his best to jump to the music and twirl Chrissy around. Over the course of the first song she managed to glide them through the crowd and strategically place them right by Steve. 
Chrissy was a total boss. 
“STEVE!” she shouted, acting much drunker than she actually was. She threw her arms around Steve, who returned the hug with a warm smile. “How are you?”
Steve said something, but it was so loud on the dance floor that Eddie couldn’t hear it.
“I’M ROBIN,” blue jumpsuit woman said. She looked like she was having the time of her life. “NICE TO MEET YOU!”
“YOU TOO!” Chrissy replied. She turned to Eddie. “THIS IS MY FRIEND EDDIE!”
Oh, shit. Okay then. 
Robin and Steve just kinda looked at him and didn’t say anything for a moment. There was no equally loud greeting for Eddie Munson, no sir. He immediately felt judged, and almost bolted right out of there. He didn’t fit in with this crowd at all. 
“H-hi, Eddie!” Robin finally said. “I actually know you! I went to your show a few weeks ago!”
“Woah, really?” Eddie responded, shocked. Nobody had recognized him here, yet. Maybe he wasn’t so different from these people after all. 
“YOU’RE A MUSICIAN, TOO?” Chrissy asked, amazed. Eddie nodded. Suddenly, the most beautiful man Eddie had ever seen approached Chrissy and asked her to dance. He recognized the guy as this famous actor who’d been in a ton of movies. Score for Chrissy, although she was perfect, too, and barely fazed. Instead, she took the actor’s hand and smiled. “GOTTA GO, SEE YOU GUYS LATER!”
And then, she was off. What a crazy life these people led.
Steve spoke again, but only Robin could hear him properly. She nodded, then gestured for Eddie to follow them to a less loud part of the bar. 
“Much better,” Steve said once they could all hear themselves think again. The light in the bar was dim, so it was hard to make out all of Steve’s features, but Eddie could have sworn he looked familiar. “So, you’re the famous Eddie Munson?”
Eddie thought for sure he’d heard Steve wrong. Like, he must have, because no way in hell Eddie could be considered famous among this group of people. Unless Steve was being condescending, in which case…ugh. Sure, whatever. 
“I - I mean, yeah,” Eddie replied. He turned back to Robin, who he already liked more than Steve. “So, you’ve seen Corroded Coffin in concert?”
“Yeah!” she said, her face lighting up at the question. 
“Why?” Eddie asked before he could stop himself. Robin and Steve laughed. “I just mean, you’re not really my usual demographic -”
“I’m full of surprises, Eddie,” she teased. “Okay, so I only went because my friend had an extra ticket, but still.”
“Ouch,” Eddie responded with a laugh, clutching his heart as if he’d genuinely been distraught. 
“What the fuck is in these things?” Steve said, staring intently at the drink in his hand. 
“It’s basically a long island iced tea with all their cheapest liquor and a splash of sprite,” Eddie answered plainly.
“How did you know that?” Robin asked, amused. 
“I asked,” Eddie replied with a shrug. 
“The bartender?” Robin pressed. Eddie nodded. 
“Yeah. I have this thing where I never shut up, so I tend to talk to everyone,” Eddie joked. Well, it wasn’t really a joke. “Anyway, how many have you had?” Steve’s brow furrowed as he desperately tried to remember his drink tally.
“One more than he should have had, apparently,” Robin said, taking the glass from Steve and setting it down on a table. “I’ll go get him some water.” 
She disappeared with no further warning, leaving Eddie alone with Steve. Am I supposed to babysit this guy until she comes back or something?
“So, you and Robin,” Eddie said, shifting back and forth on his feet. He really could not for the life of him stop talking, especially with whiskey coursing through him. “Are you guys, like -?”
“Just friends,” Steve snapped back. He almost seemed pissed at the question. “She’s been my best friend for, god, I dunno, since college.”
“Cool,” Eddie replied. Steve was clearly very drunk, and Eddie wasn’t sure how much of that was contributing to his standoffishness. “Are you okay, man?”
“Why're you even here, dude?” Steve asked, his words slurred. “What made you come here?”
“Uhhh, I was invited?” Eddie answered. This guy’s a real trip.
“So it wasn’t because strangers online want us to be together, and if that happens you get more fame or whatever?”
Oh, damn. While that's exactly what was happening, Eddie sure as hell wasn't going to admit it. To save face, Eddie did what he did best - he defaulted to assholery.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he responded. “I’m here for the same reason you are.”
“So, it’s a total coincidence that I see you at one of these things for the first time the same day people started talking about us online?”
“Maybe I’ve been to a ton of these parties and you’ve just never noticed,” Eddie retorted. 
“I doubt it,” Steve shot back. 
“Why?”
“Because you’re hard to miss, Munson. Always have been,” Steve replied. 
“Always?” Eddie echoed, confused. Then, the lights hit Steve’s face and illuminated it entirely. Enough for Eddie to remember where he’d seen him before. 
“Got your water!” Robin announced as she returned. She handed Steve the new glass, and he took it without breaking eye contact with Eddie. 
“Ohhhh my god,” Eddie said, stunned. “You're Steve Harrington. HARVEST is Steve goddamn Harrington.”
“Sure is,” Steve replied, his voice even. 
“I missed something, didn’t I?” Robin asked. 
“I mean, kind of,” Eddie said, raising his voice. “Just a couple years of King Steve bullying the school Freak.” Robin turned to Steve, alarmed. 
“Wait, you bullied him?” 
“How did you not know it was me?” Steve asked, getting agitated now. “Did you seriously come here to try to mooch off me without even doing your research first?”
“I never said I came here for you,” Eddie replied. 
“You didn’t deny it either,” Steve reminded him. “You still aren’t, by the way.”
“Okay, fine!” Eddie relented. “You caught me. I came here to cash in on your fame, like some poor commoner in need of charity, and I didn’t even bother to look you up first because honestly? Your music kinda sucks.”
“Oh, I definitely missed something,” Robin muttered nervously. 
“You wanna talk about shitty music?” Steve said through gritted teeth. 
“Okay!” Robin interjected, inserting herself between them. “No more of this. It was nice meeting you, Eddie, but I think we should split.” 
“No need,” Eddie replied. “You stay, I’ll go. You’re the ones who belong here anyway.” He did a slight bow and walked away, leaving Robin and Steve behind. 
So much for fame. 
-
@lemondar93 i thought the whole #steddie thing was a reach but saw them together tonight and uhhhh 👀 idk there's something there
@izzierosieb wait omg at the Frolique grand opening? How tf did you get in??
@lemondar93 suuuuper lucky! Matty was supposed to go but he’s sick and I was backup!
@geegeedaheed tell us everything!!!!
@julijmonroe if steddie is real I will actually lose my mind wtf
@chasityseventeen no fr because we have so little and yet I’m already INVESTED
@belloca123 NOT THERE ALREADY BEING FANART OF THEM AHAHAHAHA
@camerohno Everyone just remember that these are real people and we shouldn’t be speculating about their lives even though they’re obviously secretly married
@lemondar93 LMAO
-
Steve woke up the next morning with the hangover from hell. After Eddie left, he and Robin stuck around for another song or two before heading out themselves. 
Steve never really liked Eddie that much in high school because he was a show-off. He loved making a scene in the cafeteria and he always acted like he was better than everyone else just because he refused to like anything that was popular. Sports, music, TV shows. They were never going to be friends, because Steve usually liked the stuff that other people liked. He used to follow the pack, so to speak, and do what the people around him expected him to do. Eddie tended to do the opposite. Eddie was abrasive and loud and obnoxious. 
Back in high school, anyway. Steve knew that people had the capability to change (after all, he sure did), but after reuniting with Eddie at the bar, he was skeptical any growth or development had actually occurred in the last six years. 
Eddie was still a dick, and Steve had no interest in ever seeing him again. 
He pulled out his phone to see that it was still blowing up. There was a new tag trending - #steddie. Yikes. He’d also gotten even more followers. Then, another update caught his eye. 
His new album had double the pre-orders it had the night before. 
He’d put his heart and soul into this album, and he wanted more than anything for it to be recognized. He was popular, yeah, but mostly for a couple singles that played on the radio all the time. This album was a piece of art from top to bottom that Steve had painstakingly planned and created from scratch. 
Maybe. Maybe this stupid ship with Eddie Munson could be worth something. But not enough to contact the guy. No way. 
Steve opened his Instagram and then felt his heart drop. 
@nancywheeler: Life hack - date a photographer so you get amazing candids on vacation 💕
It hadn’t even been that long since Nancy left Steve for Jonathan Byers. Well, maybe it had been long enough, but still. Cute couple’s posts already? 
Oh, no. Steve wanted Nancy to feel like he did, and he knew what would do the trick. She was always a bit of the jealous type.
God dammit.
(Part 2!)
---------------------------------------
@paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth @mnl-enuh @redfreckledwolf @itsanarrum @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @gregre369 @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @aryakanojiaa @wrenisflying @comicmadlover @lilacrobin @itch-my-b0nez @anonymousbandgirl @disastardly @dangdirtydemons @daisyellsong @val-from-lawrence @starryeyedpoet17 @taikawaiteatea @clumsiluni @hollysimone @swimmingbirdrunningrock @witchofhawkins @steddiegarbage @suddenlyinlove @ricekristytreaty @eddielives1986
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justagalwhowrites · 10 months
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Beskar Doll - Ch. 3: Battle Scars
You're making an effort to get along with the armored man you're stuck traveling with - at least so you don't want to kill each other. The Mandalorian isn't sure what to make of any of it. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-2, found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x Female Reader
Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence and injury; SA threatened but not described, did not happen to reader. No use of Y/N. Whole fic is violent and smutty, 18+ only. Minors DNI.
Length: 7.2k
The Mandalorian seemed to spend more time in his quarters than usual. You set up your bed before devouring the ration he’d shoved into your hands, eating the whole thing and almost making yourself sick, but you were so hungry it was hard to stop yourself from wolfing it down. 
You were already awake when he emerged and you were surprised he wasn’t already in the cockpit. You’d slept deeply enough that you thought he’d probably just slipped past you in the dark. But he stopped and looked at you for a moment as you were braiding your hair, trying to remember one of the more intricate styles from your home world that you hadn’t attempted in years. He turned to leave and you quickly tied the braid off before scrambling to your feet, half your hair still loose down your back. 
“Wait,” you jogged to catch up with him. He turned to face you, arms crossed, a silent wall of metal. “I know you said to stay out of the cockpit…” 
“I don’t…” he began but you held your hand up to silence him. 
“I’m not trying to be in your way and I don’t want to spend time with you any more than you want to spend time with me,” you said, your diplomat voice on. “But I was hoping you’d be OK with me going in the cockpit when you weren’t there.” 
He looked down at you. You could feel the intensity of his gaze but you held it all the same. 
“Why?” He asked eventually. “Planning to detour us?” 
“No,” you said, making sure your voice stayed even. This wouldn’t work if he saw you as an adversary all the damn time. “The hold is dark and boring. I’d like to look outside.” 
“Do you think space somehow isn’t dark and boring?” He asked, skeptical. 
“It’s better than the same four metal walls all the time,” you shrugged. “I won’t disrupt anything and I’ll leave as soon as you need back in. I’ll only do it when you’re resting.” 
He considered you for a moment. 
“Fine,” he said. You smiled a little and gave him a quick nod before turning to leave. “Wait.” You turned back, trying to hide your frown. You hoped he wouldn’t take your deal back already. 
“Yes?” You asked. He paused, like he was rethinking his question. 
“Are you really Imperial?” He asked eventually. 
You considered him. You’d read about Mandalorians since you’d come aboard his ship. They were bound by their word and their creed and you were pretty certain you wouldn’t need to worry about him slitting your throat in your sleep, even if he did hate you. But the Empire had been cruel to his people, decimating their race and their planet. The metal your father had paid for your transit - beskar - was probably stolen from his world during an Imperial assault, intercepted in a rebellion mission and then passed off to your father as an insurance policy of sorts. If he truly thought you were Imperial, you wouldn’t blame him at all for saying “fuck the creed” and throwing you out of the nearest airlock. But it was a useful lie, good cover for exactly what you were truly hiding. At least for now. 
“If I were,” you said slowly. “Would you kill me?” 
He looked at you, head cocked slightly to the side. 
“No,” he said eventually. “I said I would transport you and I will. Your allegiance in the war wouldn’t change that.” 
You nodded slowly, trying to find a way to fold yourself into the story he’d invented for you without outright lying. 
“I have…” you paused for a second. “Imperial ties.” 
It wasn’t exactly a lie. Your mother had known Bail Organa and you grew up playing with his daughter, Leia. Both had been Imperial Senators. You’d used your profession and connection for years to bring information from rebellion sympathizers within the Empire to where it needed to be. Imperial ties were important.
He nodded slowly, not speaking again before climbing into the cockpit for the day. 
You didn’t speak again for four days. You’d become skilled at learning his patterns and understanding exactly how to avoid him. If you timed it right, you could climb into your hiding place just as he was getting up for the day, watching from your perch in the ceiling as he went about his morning routine. He glanced around the hold when he came through but you weren’t sure if he was looking for you or for evidence of your wrong doing. Either way, you waited until you were sure he was settled into the cockpit before beginning your routine of practice and exercise, retreating to your hideout again just before he came down, seeking food and to use the fresher. 
He’d started monitoring your ration intake, which you weren’t sure what to do about. If he decided you hadn’t eaten enough, he’d leave a ration pack on the crate near your first hideout. He never said anything about it. But you’d eat what he put out before laying down in what you were pretty sure was the afternoon to sleep, always waking up with just enough time to clean up your bed, scramble into the ceiling, and watch as he retreated to his quarters for the few hours of sleep he seemed to need every day. 
That was your favorite part of the day. You gave him a few minutes, made sure he wasn’t going to come back out, before you crept into the cockpit. He darkened it before he left it, everything running at minimum power. But that was how you liked it best. You tried sitting in one of the seats the first night but it wasn’t close enough to outside for your liking, so you clambered over the controls and tucked yourself between the dash and the viewer, the stars bright and close, taking up your whole field of vision. 
You stayed there as long as you could, bringing your blanket with you so you could feel safe and comfortable while staring out into the vastness of it all. Space always made you feel so small. It was comforting, knowing just how small and inconsequential you really were. 
The fourth day, you’d lost track of time, your head resting on your knees as you felt like you were swimming in starlight, the galaxy whipping past outside. 
“Do you always sit up there?” Mando’s voice made you jump, your head whipping around to see him standing beside the captain’s chair. 
“Yes,” you said, unfolding yourself from your perch and deftly climbing down. “The view is better. Sorry, I lost track of time. I’ll get out of your way.” 
“Stay,” he said, not looking at you as he took his seat. “We’re coming up on Hosnian Prime.” 
You nodded, strapping into what had become your designated seat. 
“Another puck to fulfill?” You asked, giving in to your drive to fill the awkward silence. 
“And a resupply,” he said, not looking at you. The ship slowed, the planet appearing in front of you, a cloud of ships around it. 
“What do you need?” You asked. He glanced your way. “For the resupply, I mean. Do you have a list?” You could feel the skepticism in his gaze and it irritated you how clearly you could feel his eyes through that helmet. “I’d like to make myself useful. And the faster we get off this rock, the faster you can be rid of me.” 
“Fine,” he said after a moment, looking forward again. “I’m not sure how long this will take, Hosnian Prime is big and it’s densely populated, tracking is harder here. Try not to get yourself killed buying rations and bacta.” 
“I’ll do my best,” you rolled your eyes, settling back into your seat and watching as the Mandalorian eased you into a hanger at a spaceport. 
You perched on top of a crate to watch him load himself down with ammunition and gear, quietly observing his habits, hoping to make him predictable. 
“If you leave the ship, come back every night,” he said stiffly. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back and I’m not waiting for you while you go…” he paused, like he was searching for a word, and you raised your eyebrows. “Dancing. Or whatever it is dolls do.” 
“Don’t worry Mando,” you rolled your eyes. “I won’t let my vibrant social life get in your way.” 
You watched him descend the ramp and you waited a few minutes before you went and sat on the end of it. It was nice, seeing people again. Your life on Tatooine had been pretty isolated, occasional trips into Mos Espa the only thing breaking up the monotony of daily chores. You’d had your family, at least, which was a comfort but it was different than Naboo. There, you’d always been surrounded by people. It was hard to remember a time you were ever alone, often sleeping in the same room as Sosha to keep her safe. 
Of course, the last time you’d been to Mos Espa - before the day you boarded the Razor Crest, anyway - you’d found so much trouble that you had to flee the planet and change your name. Maybe you and throngs of people didn’t mesh as well as you thought.
The first few days, you kept to the ship, sticking with your usual habits and replacing curling up in the cockpit with people watching from the ramp. By day four, you were restless enough you decided to venture out and cross some things off Mando’s list. At least this way you’d get a say in the rations that were aboard. 
Hosnian Prime was an almost overwhelming place after spending a few years isolated on the outer rim. You’d forgotten what it was like to be in a crush of bodies flowing from one place to another, the noise and the color and the smell of this many people all together. It took some time for your senses to adjust, your ears not able to focus on any one sound, snippets of different conversations and people yelling from stalls and the drone of speeders melding together into a disorienting mass, your mind flitting through languages trying to understand it all. You shook yourself, putting up your hood. You needed to be able to focus. Anyone could sneak up on you now and kill you and Maker knew there were plenty of people who wanted to. You had to be on guard. 
You stocked up on rations and shopped around until you found bacta and other medical supplies for less than a small fortune. You also picked up some cleaning materials for weaponry and found a small kit you could use to patch clothing and flight suits - useful tools when your wardrobe options were limited. It was nice, feeling productive. It was small but it was the first time you’d accomplished something in weeks, and you made your way back to the Razor Crest with a smile on your face. 
The outing was enough to keep you satisfied for a few days of routine again before you started feeling restless. Mando had been gone a week now and in a planet that was more city than anything else, it would be impossible to know where he was or an idea of how long he’d be gone unless he planned to tell you - which he obviously didn’t. 
A week and a day after he left, you decided a different kind of practice was in order. It had been a while since you’d try to surveil anyone or get into places you shouldn’t be in an urban space. You put on your most nondescript clothes and grabbed a few of the credits your father and stashed in your bag before bidding you farewell and headed out into the city. 
It took you a bit to find someone to follow but you settled on a large man who looked like he was up to no good, leering at women who passed and sneering at everyone else. You kept to the shadows behind him, weaving through the press of people as he went about his business, never close enough that he saw you but never so far that you lost him. You tailed him for hours until he went into what you assumed was his apartment. Once he’d stayed inside for more than an hour and you realized you’d been slinking through the city for eight or nine and the sun was starting to set, you started trying to navigate your way back to the spaceport without asking for help. It was after dark when you returned and you were relieved to find the Razor Crest was still there and that Mando hadn’t come back and left without you. 
A new pattern began to take shape. One day, you’d stay at the ship, going about your usual routine. The next, out into the city to keep other skills sharp. You sometimes followed strangers, other times tried to break into places that seemed tricky, once you even just went and found more nondescript clothes than what you’d brought from Naboo and Tatooine, hoping they’d help you blend in on the myriad planets you’d likely be dragged to before the Mandalorian finally deposited you on Dantooine. 
Half way through his third week hunting, you were in the city, your challenge for the day having found their way home as the sun began to set. You were working your way back to the ship, pleased with how your self-made training session had gone. Your selection that day was a bit more challenging, often using a different exit for a building he visited than an entrance and he was smaller so he would often blend in with crowds as he went from place to place. But you’d tracked him all the same. You were starting to get concerned about when Mando was returning - at what point did you decide he’d just been wounded or killed and get yourself off world? - when you heard a scream. 
It was loud and pleading and close so you ran for it, slipping into holes in the crowd where you could and just pushing through where you couldn’t until you found the source. In an alley off a side street was a woman, her back to a wall and a cluster of four men around her. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she was obviously terrified, cowering and pressing herself into the building behind her like she was wishing it would swallow her whole. 
“Hey!” You snapped, stalking over to them. You’d left your blaster on the ship but your knife was heavy in your pocket. Four on one weren’t great odds, but you’d had worse. “I think she wants you to leave her alone.” 
“Stay out of this, off-worlder,” one spat, glancing at me. The woman looked at you, her eyes wide like she was begging for help. 
“Don’t think I will,” you said, stepping closer, cataloguing what you could read about the men. One had a blaster at his waist but he was close to you, you could probably take it quickly. Another had his hand to the woman’s throat and looked to be the biggest - you’d go for him second. “Last chance. Go home with life and limb intact.” 
“Do you understand what you’re getting yourself into, little girl?” The third man, whose back had been to you, turned to face you, a vibroknife in his hand. You nodded, admiring the weapon as you prowled closer. It was large and looked to be custom. It’d be a nice addition to your collection. Just a slight change of plan. 
You looked at him and smiled before hooking your leg around his and pulling it out from under him, grabbing the wrist of the hand that held the knife as he collapsed to the ground. You twisted it and he dropped the knife, crying out as you kept twisting until the bones snapped. You snatched the knife out of the air and spun it in your hand until your grip was right. 
Everything happened quickly then, the man holding the woman by the throat dropping her to lunge for you. You sidestepped him and used the butt of the knife to hit his temple as he passed you, knocking him off balance. 
“Run!” You yelled to her. She didn’t need to be told twice, taking off. You positioned yourself between her attackers and her escape route, vibroknife in hand in front of you, blade out toward them. 
“Fucking bitch!” The one you’d hit in the temple swore, clutching his head. 
“Warned you,” you shrugged, waiting for their next move, stolen knife at the ready. The one whose wrist you’d broken was still on the ground, clutching his injured arm. One down. 
You were about to go for the one with the blaster when the final one - the one you hadn’t truly assessed - pulled something from his side and extended it before igniting it. An electrostaff. Shit. You hadn’t planned for that. 
You went for the one you’d hit in the temple first, feigning a low strike and instead punching him hard in the face with the hand that held the vibroknife, both the pain and force of the punch amplified by the metal in your hands. He crumpled to the ground, so the hand injury was at least worth it. The staff wielder swung for you and you barely managed to dodge it, ducking below his swing that was a bit too high for someone of your size, anyway. At least he seemed like a rudimentary user. 
The blaster draw you only caught by luck, a brief flash of metal out of the corner of your eye as a light a few floors above you flickered to life. You dove just as he got off a shot, tucking and rolling to jump back to your feet and come up alongside the shooter. You gave him a glancing strike with the vibroknife - enough to need bacta but not so much that it would kill him. He clutched his weapon tighter but fell to his knees with a strangled moan, the ragged gash at his side gushing blood.
You watched him for a second too long, making sure he wasn’t going to try to pull another shot off when you barely saw the electrostaff swinging in your direction. You tried to twist away but it was too close to fully dodge and the weapon made contact, glancing off your ribs. You clenched your teeth and fought to stay standing. This, in comparison to what you’d suffered in the past, was nothing. But it had been years since you’d last had a real fight and the blow knocked the wind out of you. You spun and backed away, just outside of his threat radius, vibroknife at the ready. The distinctive smell of burning flesh reached your nose, turning your stomach. 
“Should have stayed out of it, baby girl,” the only man left standing smirked at you. “But since you were so eager to bail out your friend the whore, maybe we’ll just take you home instead.” 
“You can try,” you shrugged, getting a firmer grip on the knife. The man with the blaster started to move, looking like he might try to shoot you again. With barely a glance, you kicked where you’d cut him before and he instinctively dropped the blaster with a wail as he went to clutch his side. You kicked the weapon behind you, hearing it clatter into the side of the building. “Don’t like your odds, though.” 
With a snarling yell, the last man standing lunged for you and your body reacted, every ounce of training you’d ever had rising to the surface. Adrenaline took over, the pain from the blow fading until you forgot it completely. His movements seemed almost slow and you sidestepped him, slamming your shoulder into his diaphragm as you ducked below his arm. The electro staff buzzed near you and you twisted again to dodge it as he brought it back around, aiming to catch you with a second pass. 
He spun and backed away, keeping you in his line of sight and panting for breath, smirking slightly. “Good,” he said, eyes raking over your body. “It’s more fun when you fight.”
“You know,” you said, eyes narrowing. “Just for that, I think I’m going to kill you.” 
He went for you again. He had tells, you’d quickly learned. His training was rudimentary, he couldn’t hide his plans for shit. You dodged him easily this time, bringing the knife down on his arm as you moved to avoid him. Your angle wasn’t quite good enough to take the whole limb off, even with the vibroknife, but it still did some damage as you heard his pained, enraged scream. He recovered quicker than you expected, swinging the weapon down as you turned to face him again, the electric current caching on your back, burning and cutting as it went. He smiled defiantly, ragged flesh hanging from his injured arm. You wondered what your back looked like as you adjusted your grip on the vibroknife again, looking him up and down. 
Before he had the chance to strike first yet again, you lunged. He wasn’t anticipating your movements, putting him behind already, but he fell even more behind when he didn’t realize that you weren’t going for his head, heart or even stomach. No, you went low, bringing the blade around to the back of his ankle as you twisted around his body and severed the tendon there, forcing him to collapse, unable to hold himself up. His hands instinctively flew out to catch himself, one releasing the electrostaff entirely. In one fluid motion, you took advantage of his weakness and snatched it away from him, throwing it at the wall near the blaster before grabbing him by the hair, bringing your knife around his shoulders to put the blade to his throat. 
“What did you call me before?” You panted for breath. “Baby girl, was it?” 
“Please,” he whimpered, all his cockiness gone. “Please don’t kill me…” 
“Why shouldn’t I?” You asked, pressing your lips against his ear as though you were a lover. “Give me a reason why I should let you live. You’re a rapist, right? Is that what you were trying to do to that woman before? I should kill you and all your little friends, leave you to rot here…” 
“No,” he was crying. “Please, we just… she wouldn’t give us the rate we wanted…” 
“So you decided to take what you wanted, is that it?” You asked, pressing the knife into him lightly, holding the back of his body tightly to the front of yours. 
“Please,” he said again. “My mom…” 
“Should be ashamed to have you as a son,” you said. “She’d be better off without you, we all would. You’re wasting my time, baby boy.” 
“She’s sick,” he said quickly. “Please, she needs me, I promise I won’t hurt anyone ever again, I promise…” 
“Where’s your identification,” you asked, still holding your knife to his throat. 
“Back pocket,” he said quickly. You took he knife away from his throat before bringing it down to his intact ankle and severing the tendon there, too. He shrieked and you let his limp body fall forward before reaching into his pocket. The ID looked legitimate. 
“OK Chellen,” you said, reading the name off the ID, moving to squat beside his head as he lay on the ground, crying in front of you. “I’m keeping that. I hear one word of you getting into trouble - if you even fucking shoplift - I will come back and I will kill you. I don’t care where in the galaxy I am, I will be on you like flies on bantha shit, do you understand me?” 
“Yes,” he sobbed. 
“Good,” you straightened up and went to pick up the electrostaff, examining it for a moment before turning it off and collapsing it down. “And I’m taking this. You don’t deserve it.” 
You turned to leave the alley before taking one last look back down at the destruction in your wake. 
“Behave, Chellen,” you said. “I’ll be watching.” 
With that, you started off back to the Razor Crest. 
It wasn’t a terribly long walk considering the size of the city - only about an hour - but about 15 minutes in, the adrenaline from the fight wore off and the pain took over. It damn near took you down, the screaming agony at your back and side. You hesitantly reached back and delicately touched the torn flesh and then examined your fingers. They were wet with blood and your burns were already weeping. You forced yourself to keep going, you couldn’t just collapse in the street in a city where you knew all of one person - and even he’d be fine if you dropped dead. 
When you made it to the ship, you barely trudged up the ramp before you collapsed, laying face down on the floor of the hold while the ramp closed behind you. Normally, you enjoyed the fresh air when you were on world, luxuriating in something that wasn’t filtered and recirculated hundreds of times. Now, you needed the safety a closed and locked ship provided. 
You may have passed out but you couldn’t be sure. There wasn’t a good way to track time. But eventually, you forced yourself to your feet, your legs shaky, and you stumbled to the galley where you’d stashed the medical supplies. 
Bacta cost an arm and a leg and it belonged to the Mandalorian, so you just looked longingly at the pads there before sighing and finding disinfectant, gauze, glue and thread. You grabbed water and a ration pack, too, chugging the liquid and taking a few bites of the food. You had to do this without collapsing or you wouldn’t get through it. 
Back in the hold, you positioned yourself in front of the reflective crate you usually reserved for hair braiding, your injured side facing the shiny surface. You delicately adjusted your ragged shirt and inspected the injury, blood still oozing from the wound that was charred at the edges but frustratingly uncauterized. You poured some disinfectant on the gauze, took a deep breath, and pressed it into the gash, hissing as it burned. 
“Fucking Maker,” you cursed, forcing yourself to hurt as you cleaned the wound. The last time you’d gotten hurt was far worse, but you’d been unconscious for the patching up. At least no one else was having to stitch you up this time. 
Though speaking of stitches… you sighed, threading the needle and throughly covering it and the thread in disinfectant. You took your own knife - not the one you’d just stolen and had no idea where it had been - and put it between your teeth, biting down on the leather-wrapped handle. After moving in close to the reflective crate, you took a deep breath and pierced your flesh with the needle, howling against the knife handle as you did. You pulled the thread through and pierced the other side before tugging it together, holding the wound closed. You repeated the process 20 times, dripping sweat and vocal cords aching from screaming. You’d been making enough noise, the pain a loud enough roar in your body, that you hadn’t heard the hatch open on the ship. 
***
He hadn’t anticipated screaming when he came aboard his ship. 
Din had been hunting for a while, tracking someone in an urban landscape like Hosnian Prime the kind of challenge he thrived on, but he was happy it was over. He needed more than an hour or two’s sleep at a time, a chance to let his mind relax after being on high alert for weeks. But when he heard your muffled screams from inside the hold, he’d run inside before the ramp had fully lowered, dragging his quarry behind him. He cuffed the still defiant man just inside the gate, slamming the button to close it as he spotted blood on the floor in a small pool, with a trail leading to the galley. 
“Sounds like your friend’s having a bad day, Mando,” the quarry laughed. Din ignored him, flipping on his heat sensor. He didn’t have time to try to find whatever hole you’d hidden yourself in, he needed to locate you now. He spotted your heat signature immediately and ran but he froze when he saw you. Your back was to him as you twisted to see your work in the mirror but you were in obvious agony, your face contorted in agony and a knife clenched between your teeth as you sewed a charred gash at your side closed. There was a second, longer, deeper cut that ran up your spine, your shredded shirt exposing the damage. You were so absorbed in your work and overwhelmed by the pain, you hadn’t noticed him standing there. He approached hesitantly, kneeling behind you and gingerly taking the hand holding the needle. Your head spun to face him, your face red and wet as you panted for breath around the knife in your teeth. 
“I’ve got it,” he said gently. “I’ll finish it, I’ve got it, OK?” 
You nodded, choking on your tears. You let him take the needle and do the final two stitches. He winced as he did. The wound was bad, jagged and deep and stitching burned flesh closed was a whole other level of pain. He wanted to take some of it from you. Even through his gloved hand, he could feel your exhaustion, how your body shook with the pain. He finished the stitch and cut it, arranging himself so he was on his knees in front of you. 
“It’s done,” he said quietly, gently removing the knife from your mouth. He glanced down at the handle. You’d almost bitten clean through the leather. 
“There’s more,” you said, fighting to swallow tears. “But…” 
“I know, it’s OK,” his voice was slow and soothing. A gloved hand went to your shoulder, gently guiding you forward and you collapsed against him, your head on the cool metal of his shoulder as your body trembled. “You can give it to me, it’s OK.” 
His hands stayed on your head and neck and shoulders. He told himself he was touching you to ground you and calm you but he knew it was as much for himself as it was for you.
“Who did this?” He asked as your shaking slowed. He fought to keep his voice gentle. “Tell me where to find them and I’ll kill them.” 
“You don’t need to,” you sniffled into his shoulder, voice shaky. “They’re in worse shape than me.” 
“They?” He asked, pulling back from you slightly but keeping his hands on you. You nodded, drying your eyes. 
“There were four of them,” you said. “Trying to hurt a woman, she was scared…” 
“So you got them to attack you instead?” Below the helmet, he was frowning. 
“Something like that,” you laughed a little, then winced. “But if you want an electrostaff, it’s all yours. I’m keeping the vibroknife.” 
He examined you for a moment, taking stock of what he could see of your body from this angle. He realized that he’d never really seen much of your flesh, just hints of your shape. You were small with gentle curves, nothing that would indicate strength or skill as a fighter. But you were clearly experienced if you’d walked away from a fight where you were outnumbered four to one with relatively little damage. 
“What did you do to get their weapons?” He asked, trying to keep you talking. He wanted to keep you conscious, push through the shock phase. 
“The knife was easy,” you shrugged. “He was an idiot, so I took out his leg, broke his wrist, caught the knife.” 
Mando nodded slowly. Hand to hand combat - not what he’d have expected of you. 
“Staff was trickier,” you said, blinking the tears from your eyes. “He wasn’t well trained but he had some knowledge and plenty of reach on me. Ended up taking him out at the ankles, cut the tendons. Took his identification, told him I’d kill him if he so much as breathed wrong in the future.” 
Din smiled beneath the helmet, impressed in spite of himself. You turned your face to the ceiling, blinking back the last of your tears, your breathing returning to a more normal rate. 
“Where’s your quarry?” You frowned, looking back to Din. “Didn’t come back just for me, did you?” 
“Cuffed by the door,” he said gruffly. “I need to get him… settled. Once I’m done, we’ll move you to my quarters, I’ll get your back fixed up.” 
You nodded, wrapping your arms around your waist as Din went to retrieve the bounty he’d locked by the entry. 
“Someone obviously couldn’t handle themselves,” the man taunted. “Didn’t think a Mandalorian would keep such weak company…” 
“It’d be smart to watch what you say,” Mando said, pushing him forward with enough force that the man stumbled a few steps. “There are plenty of ways I could mess up carbonite storage.” 
It didn’t occur to Din to have you move from where he’d left you on the floor until the quarry caught sight of you on the way to the carbonite chamber. 
“I see the appeal now, Mando. Nice to have something good and tight waiting at home,” the man focused on your body at first, leering, before he reached your face and stopped in his tracks. “Oh ho! Would you look at who we have here.” 
You glared at him, defiant. He twisted to look at Din. 
“Do you have any idea who your little friend is, Mando?” He asked. 
“I’m just cargo,” you snapped, sitting up a little straighter and wincing as you did. 
“Oh you’re valuable cargo indeed,” he looked at you like you were meal and he was salivating before turning back toward the bounty hunter. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Shut up,” you hissed. 
“We could sell her,” he ignored you. “I know people who would pay so much for her it would make your head spin. We could split it. Hell, I’ll even pay what you’d make from my bounty out of my portion and still walk away a rich man…” 
“Shut up!” You got to your feet with surprising dexterity, considering the gaping wound on your back. You grabbed your new vibroknife and nearly ran for the man, pressing the blade to his throat. “Or I will make you shut up.”
“Someone knows when she’s in hot water,” he smirked at you. “I’m telling you, Mando. We’re men of business, you and I, and you’re sitting on the opportunity of a lifetime.” 
There was genuine fear in your eyes when you pulled your glare from the quarry and looked at him. You were afraid the Mandalorian would surrender you to this man’s allies for the payout, afraid of what they’d do to you if they had you. 
“I don’t work with Imperial bounties,” Mando said simply, taking a guess at just who might want you. The man’s reaction proved him right. So you weren’t Imperial after all. Or, at least, you’d fallen out of favor. He shoved the man forward toward the carbonite chamber, leaning in close and lowering his voice in hopes that you wouldn’t hear. “Your bounty holder only needs what’s in your head. They said nothing about bringing the rest of you in intact.” 
The quarry fell silent and he worked quickly to secure him in carbonite before finding you again. You were still standing, slumped against the crate you’d been using as a mirror, eyes closed. Blood dripped down your back but your breathing was steady and unhurried, a good sign. 
“We don’t have time of find a medic,” he said. It was almost like you’d forgotten he was on the ship with you, your head whipping around toward him when he spoke like you were surprised to find him there. “But I can do it.” 
“I don’t need a medic,” you said. Your voice was weaker than he liked. “I’ve had worse. It’s fine, I…” You sighed, wincing. “Well, don’t trust you but. Close enough.” 
He put a hand at the top of your back, above the wound, and you pressed yourself into his side. He took your weight, wishing he could just pick you up and carry you the way you clearly needed but that would just aggravate what was already a devastating wound. You moved as quickly as you could to his quarters and he helped you onto the bed, laying you out flat on your stomach. He increased the light and started examining you, looking closely at the wound. He could see part of your spine through the cut, exposing your nerves and bone. It was amazing you’d stayed conscious. 
“I’m going to cut the rest of your shirt,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. He wasn’t used to looking at anyone’s wounds besides his own. “Make sure we’re not contaminating the field any more.” 
“OK,” you said quietly. Your arms were folded under your head like a pillow, your face turned out to watch him. He cut the shirt and exposed the rest of your back before gently examining the cut. He frowned, a small sigh picked up by the modulator. “What?” You asked. He saw some of your body tense. 
“There’s some tissue that I think I’ll need to cut away,” he said. “There’s no saving it and…” 
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, looking up at him. “You don’t need to tell me it all, it’s fine. Just give me something to bite so I don’t scream your ship down. And once you start, just finish it. Keep going so I don’t have to do this again.”  
He gave you a stiff nod, grabbing a spare holster from his bedside and putting it between your teeth before he started working. He cleaned the area first, monitoring your breathing to make sure you weren’t going to pass out as you worked through the pain. When he moved on to disinfecting the area and the tools, the panting turned to moans which turned to screams as he cut away the skin that had been exposed to enough electricity that it was dead, already blackened and threatening to rot. He glanced up at your face and saw your hands, nails digging into your arms so hard that you were drawing blood. You were drenched in sweat and tears, teeth clinging to the holster, searching for some kind of outlet for the pain. 
“Here,” he took your hand gently and delicately pulled it out from below your head, glancing at the bloody crescent shaped marks on your skin. He put it on his leg, over his flight suit where there was no armor to protect him. “Give it to me. I can take it. I’m going to start sewing now, just give it to me.” 
You nodded and he started stitching you up. You didn’t hesitate to dig into his thigh as you screamed, strong enough that he was constantly aware of your grip but not so much that it distracted him from his work. He was nearly done, having lost count around 40 stitches or so, when your grip suddenly went lax and the screaming stopped. 
“Hey,” he dropped the needle, ripping his glove off and searching for the pulse point on your neck. “Come on, stay with me…” 
He found your pulse, weak but there, and put his other hand in the middle of your back until he was sure he felt your chest rising and falling. You were alive, at least. He quickly finished closing the wound and put gauze over it, leaving you unconscious in the bunk. 
Din went to where he kept the medical supplies, wondering if there were any salves or something left that might ease the pain or speed the healing. But if you hadn’t been able to find bacta here, there might not be much else. He made a plan to take a side trip to Coruscant on his way to the next bounty and find bacta, there should be some there even if there was a shortage that kept it from getting to Hosnian Prime. If he jumped, it would probably be fast enough to keep you from much scarring…
But when he opened the medkit, he froze. There were bacta patches inside, at the top. More than a dozen of them, plenty to have covered your injuries and still had a reasonable stock for the ship. You hadn’t used it. 
He stared at it for a second, like there was a connection missing in his mind. He’d seen you using a needle and thread, heard your agony, why would you have put yourself through that when there was bacta right next to the stock of disinfectant and gauze you’d obviously grabbed? He’d just assumed you hadn’t found any and he’d known that there was almost none left before this stop… The rations. He’d never told you that you could use the bacta, or anything else, just like he’d never told you you could eat.
“I… well, I don’t trust you but. Close enough.” Your words echoed in his mind, alongside the look on your face when the quarry mentioned the high price you’d fetch if taken to the right Imperials. You didn’t act like it but you were scared of the Mandalorian. Afraid that you’d do the wrong thing and he’d do away with you, afraid enough that you’d rather torture yourself and risk infection or death rather than chance using some bacta. The safer bet was suffering. He looked toward his quarters. He knew what it was like to be alone but he’d always had other Mandalorians he could trust and call upon if needed. You, it seemed, had no one. 
He took a few bacta pads and returned to his quarters. You were still unconscious, your breathing shallow but steady. He opened the pads and gently pressed them to your body, covering every inch of your wounds. He got a damp cloth and wiped away your sweat and tears. As his hand ranged over your back, he noticed the tell-tale signs of past injuries that had been healed with bacta before. Your skin was smooth, no raised scarring, but small variations in the color betrayed your earlier wounds. He couldn’t see all of you but it was clear that, at some point, you’d been nearly torn apart. 
“I’ve had worse,” you’d said. “It’s fine.” 
You were a person who was on the run from Tatooine, enough that you were changing your name. You held your own in a fight where you were outnumbered and out gunned. You were able to sew yourself back together to survive. You were wanted so badly by the remaining Imperials that they were willing to pay a high price - high enough for half the amount to pay off an already hefty bounty. 
Who the fuck was on his ship? 
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izzy hands x reader where like him, they get up with the sun and work all day but unlike him, they get intense migraines when they’re overwhelmed. this can be literally as short as you want it to be im just so anxious lately and my head hurts like hell
For Professional Reasons
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Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader Summary: When you’re not up when you usually wake up, Izzy goes to check on you. For totally professional reasons. Warnings: Izzy
Izzy woke up before the sun as usual. He got ready quickly and headed up to the deck and noticed something was off immediately. Usually you’d be there to greet him. The idea of having two first mates on a ship felt utterly ridiculous but the Revenge was utterly ridiculous in a lot of ways. At least you actually were competent. All of his yelling did nothing but as soon as you asked gently, the crew would leap to do whatever you asked. It was ridiculous. But you were… fine. It was almost nice to have someone up with him early in the morning. The two of you would drink your coffee or tea together and it was nice. Hell, sometimes you were awake before him and he’d walk on deck to see you already working, usually with a cup of coffee all ready for him. For you to not be up already working was incredibly bizarre. 
He briefly considered waiting for you but his mind was already buzzing with everything horrible that could have happened. Fuck it. He was going to go get you.
 Izzy tried to rationalize it as just a part of his duty. He needed to check on you for completely professional reasons. Definitely. 
He already had a hand on his sword as he knocked on the door of your cabin. He’d knocked on your door before and you’d always been quick to cheerfully invite him in. So not getting a response was concerning.  Sword drawn, he decided that he was going in. If anything had happened to you, he would raise hell. For completely professional reasons. Izzy pushed the door open and rather than some terrible scene all he saw was you curled up in your bunk, pillow wrapped around your head. 
“Y/N?” He asked. His voice came out much gruffer than he meant to. 
“Hmm? Yeah?” You mumbled sleepily. Then your eyes widened as you seemed to recognize him. You jumped, immediately sitting up and looking much more out of order than he’d ever seen. “Shit! Izzy! Fuck! I’m late right? I’m so incredibly sorry!”
You managed to stumble to your feet and grab your jacket before Izzy fully realized how terrible you looked. You looked like you hadn’t slept in a while (despite having just rolled out of bed) and you had one hand clutched to your head even as the other fumbled with the buttons on your jacket. Izzy had no clue how to deal with this. Were you sick? Hurt?
“Y/N?” He asked again softer this time.
You were still kind of mumbling about being sorry. Clearly you weren’t going to listen so he grabbed you by the shoulders and all but shoved you back in bed. That seemed to snap you out of it somewhat. You still had one hand on your temple. “Iz, I’m sorry. I’ll be right up, I promise.” You restated, conviction  clear in your tone.
“What’s wrong with you?” Izzy asked and immediately felt bad when you flinched. That sounded so much more like an insult than an honest attempt to ask what’s wrong. You looked moments away from apologizing again and Izzy felt like he might drop dead if you kept apologizing to him when he’s the one being a dick. “No, fuck… That sounded… Fuck. Are you… Are you alright?” He tried.
You gave him one of those patient smiles that made him want to hurl himself into the ocean because of how they made his heart jump.  “I’m… I’m fine. It’s just… Just a migraine.” You shrugged, making Izzy realize he still had his hands on your shoulders. He instantly let go but you just smiled as if you didn’t mind at all. “I get them sometimes. Especially when I’m overwhelmed and yesterday…” You smiled, any casualness you were attempting to portray made moot by your obvious wince.. “Yesterday was a lot.”
Izzy could definitely see where you were coming from there. The crew had done two raids almost back to back when their target ship was sailing with another smaller ship. It had gone well with only minor injuries but it had been utterly draining. Even Bonnet was too exhausted for his ridiculous storytime and (rather than complaining as they usually would) the crew didn’t even make a fuss. But you’d seemed fine. 
Although… Now that he thought about it. You had still been working by the time he’d gone to bed. “Did you sleep at all?” 
You looked almost guilty, like a kid who got caught staying up too late. “Not really. Maybe an hour or two. Usually can’t sleep when I have them… Hurts.” 
“That bad?” 
“Feels like I took a cannonball to the skull at point blank.” You chuckled, humorlessly.
Izzy hissed in sympathy. He knew a thing or two about being kept up by pain. 
“I really can be up on deck in a few minutes. I won’t make you take double duty ‘cause of me.” You offered. You seemed more worried about inconveniencing him than your own pain.
“No.” Izzy replied firmly. “You are going to stay here. Lie down. I’m sure I can handle the idiots for one day on my own. Hell, maybe if I told them that you wanted them to do their chores they’d actually do them.” He felt oddly satisfied when that got a slight chuckle out of you.
“Iif the crew gets too rowdy, feel free to drag them in here and I’ll look all pathetic and sad. Might work.” You added with a small smile. 
Izzy rolled his eyes but it probably would work…  “Is there anything that can help with your migraines?”
You smiled again and Izzy was feeling incredibly unprofessional. “Thanks. A cold compress would be good if that’s not too much of a pain…”
“I’ll get one.” Izzy nodded, already planning ahead how to make sure you got fresh compresses throughout the day. “And when Roach is up, I;ll get you something light to eat.” He offered.
“Thank you. Just… If there’s an emergency, don’t hesitate to come get me, okay?” You sighed and lied down.
“Of course.” Izzy lied, well aware that he wouldn’t bother you unless the ship was actively on fire and/or sinking.
As Izzy turned to leave, he was stopped dead in his tracks by a soft hand grabbing his ungloved hand. He turned to see you smiling. “Thanks Iz.” You said, your tone soft and kind and genuinely grateful. “It really means a lot.”
He gripped your hand back for a moment before catching himself and letting go. “You’re welcome… Now just lie down…”
Izzy all but ran out of your cabin, closing the door as softly as he was able, trying to push the thoughts of how soft your hand was and how gentle your smile was out of his mind. 
The way he traced his palm where you’d touched his hand, was irrelevant.. He was just helping you out. First mate to first mate. Totally for professional reasons. That was all. 
A/N: I get migraines too and this was as much for me as it was for you, anon. Hope you enjoy
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shivunin · 3 months
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @greypetrel @layalu @daggerbean and @zenstrike (Zen, I've decided I'm just going to post all fic things on this blog from now on, but I will post something that isn't Dragon Age c:)
Tagging @ndostairlyrium @heniareth @pinayelf @buchimgay @brother-genitivi @jtownnn @dreadfutures @inquisimer
I don't have a picture right now, but I've gotten the first two rows of purple onto the Leliana scarf and I'm really pleased with how the color looks so far! It's been really nice to do something with my hands in the evening, especially since I got hooked on a DND show I can watch at the same time.
Here are a snippet from some Mass Effect fic I'm still playing around with, then a bit from a BG piece I've been working on the last month or so.
From "Sure As Night," a ME WIP (535 Words):
The hum of the elevator to Shepard’s cabin had become familiar and comforting, in an odd way. 
The rest of the ship sounded just slightly off to Garrus. It’d taken plenty of hits after they’d gone through the relay, had almost certainly taken some damage from that final blast. The Normandy wasn’t actively falling apart or neither of them would be up here, but the sound of the engine was just one more thing that was…off. Or maybe Garrus was just hearing things. Wouldn’t be the first time in the past few months. 
But her elevator sounded exactly the same as always. It was…nice, for one thing to stay the same.
“Shepard?” he called. After a moment, the door unlocked and slid open. 
It was not immediately apparent where she was when he stepped inside. Garrus glanced at the trail of water on the floor and followed it to the couch in the next room (top notch detective skills there; wouldn’t his father be proud of him now?). He saw Shepard as soon as he walked down the stairs, sprawled over the couch with her feet braced on the bulkhead. Her hair was tousled and darker than usual, water droplets clung to her exposed shoulders, and the rest of her torso was wrapped in a towel. 
“Hey there,” she said, and Garrus blinked down at her. 
“And here I was coming in to give a formal report,” he said drily. She grimaced and pushed herself up, raking her hair away from her face. 
“Tell me that’s a joke,” she said. “Don’t think I can handle another emergency right now.”
She could, of course. They both knew that if there had been an emergency, she’d bolt out of here as quickly as she could and handle it. It’s who she was, after all. 
“You ask the engineers, it’s all an emergency,” he told her. “But I think they’ll hang on for a little longer or Ken would be talking less.”
Shepard snorted and shifted aside, glancing at the open space beside her. 
Well. He could take a hint. He just hoped she wasn’t about to tell him that last night had been a mistake. He’d been thinking about it plenty since then and he’d reached an entirely different conclusion. Racing through destruction with the expectation of certain death could do that to a person. 
Garrus passed the last step and settled beside her as best he could. He still wasn’t used to the human preoccupation with these squishy pieces of furniture. Didn’t they ever get stuck? He always felt like he’d sink all the way to the floor if he sat back too far. He considered telling her this to break the tension and discarded the idea immediately. He could definitely manage better than that.
“How’s the arm?” she asked him, nudging the arm in question. Garrus shrugged and rolled his shoulder experimentally. After taking a rocket to the face, he’d found that his scale for pain was kind of shot. He hadn’t even realized there was something wrong with it before Chakwas had insisted on scanning him. 
“I’ve had worse,” he told her, and she snorted. 
“Tough guy, huh?” she asked. 
“Something like that,” he paused. “And you? You took a few shots yourself.”
“I’ll survive,” Shepard said, looking at him sidelong, and smiled.
And (with a very different tone!) from a piece I am working on for Tav (234 Words):
Hope; a curious thing. She had been bereft of it for so long that its touch burned her then. 
“Be welcomed, faithful paladin,” Lathander had said. “Be free of the bonds that held you. ”
“My Lord, I will serve you for all my days,” she had told him, and only knew that she was weeping when the droplets struck the hands she’d clenched below.. 
She had never been touched like this. Nobody had ever been touched like this, she was certain of that. 
“You are mine now. The past is done,” he said. “Name yourself to me, Oathsworn.”
Octavia fell away, dead at last and free to rest. The woman she left behind took a deep breath. She had been a child once, and loved. Her family—her family had called her a silly nickname, coined by a brother with too few teeth to say her real one properly. She had left them behind too young, had left behind any hope of belonging somewhere at the same time. 
But—she belonged here now. She belonged to Lathander, as she had once belonged to her family. 
“Tavitha Hallowthorn,” she whispered. “I am Tavitha.” 
“Tavitha,” the god said, already dissipating into countless flecks of light, each of them composed of all the shades of every perfect sunrise. “Be welcome.”
Octavia was dead. Tavitha bowed her head before her god and knew herself for the first time in a very, very long time.
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bullet-prooflove · 1 year
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Have You Ever Been In Love? - Horacio Carrillo x Reader
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Tagging: @616wilsons@mysun-n-stars@xmoonknightlyx@nessamc@crazy4chickennuggets@annetje@mysoulisasunflower@littleone65@thesandbeneathmytoes@glorieux92@supersanelyromantic@mirabee1@kabloswrld@xoxabs88xox@nunita20 @jesuisvenus24 @sideeye123 @mydarkestsecretlol @evee87 @adesertdaydream
It was your eyes that Horacio fell in love with, and of course the way that beautiful carefree grin of yours that lit up his world even in the darkest of days. There was a bleakness in his life before you. He was divorced, married to his job, committed to Escobar. There hadn’t been space for anything else. Yet somehow you made space. He didn’t understand it, he couldn’t.
It was almost a seduction. One that you didn’t realise you were complicit in.
There was an attraction, there was no doubt about that. He had encountered beautiful women before, but you were different. He coveted your kindness, your ability to keep your compassion despite the horrors you saw. You were dogged in your pursuit of the Narcos, he admired your determination and feared for your life because for you this war was personal.
The two of you had discussed your brother, the one that had been back in Miami. The job was meant to be a short-term thing, moving cocaine from one place to another. They’d found him with a bullet in his head outside a bar called The Rabbit Hole. Your mother had passed a way soon after, from a broken heart they said. You kept a picture of the two of them in your desk drawer.
He knew of your reputation back in the states. You had torn the truth from Joshua’s friends, eviscerated their lies and left them bleeding in the dirt from their guilt. You were furious, tenacious. You had chased down suppliers and dismantled their operations, you had made yourself a problem.
Hence why you had been shipped off to Colombia. You wanted to wage a war on drugs, and you’d gotten that in abundance.
You sat across from him, your face highlighted by the glow from the lamp on his desk. You were smoking one of his cigarettes, a glass of his whiskey in your hand as the two of you sat in silence listening to the song on the vintage record player, that had been passed down by his father. He knew your grasp on the language was tenuous. You tried but you had no head for languages.
“It’s about falling in love.” He told you, leaning against the desk.
Your clothing brushed against his as you stood up. You leaned in close to stub out the cigarette in the black ashtray on his desk. He inhaled your perfume. The scent of frankincense and peonies, the undercurrent of night-time air as it gave way to the morning light.
“Have you ever been in love Colonel?” You asked him.
Horacio considered the question. His marriage had been one of convenience instead of passion. There had been a comfort in the domesticity. With you it was different, it was yearning and desire, the reckless surge of a wildfire erupting through his veins. He didn’t answer, instead he inclined his head towards you, his dark eyes meeting yours.
“Have you?”
There was a complicity in the silence, his gaze lowered to your lips before his arm wrapped around your waist drawing you close. The song changed to something softer, an acoustic guitar and the drawl of a man who had lost his heart. The two of you started to sway, a gentle motion as his palm came to rest upon your lower back, thumb trailing over the that sensitive spot that sent a thousand tiny sparks prickling across your skin.
“You asked if I had ever been in love?” he murmured, his lips brushing over yours with the tenderest of kisses. “The answer is no, not until I met you.”
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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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frozenjokes · 7 months
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Signing Back In, Apparently - 1
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*contains shipping*
“Hey, Scar, you alright? You’ve been locked in there all day yesterday, and you didn’t even come out for breakfast! Y’know, Scott was over and brought us a couple treats, I thought that maybe..” Sausage continued on, but Scar wasn’t in the mood to keep listening. The pain in his back rippled from its starting point in the middle, all the way up to his neck and down to his thighs. He was sick with pain, and he certainly didn’t want to eat. No different position, stretching, walking, anything , could relieve him. All he could do was lay down in the dark and wait for Mumbo to stop sulking.
“Bad flare up. I’m fine. Just need to rest,” Scar choked out through gritted teeth, forcing a smile despite the fact Sausage was on the other side of his door.
“You don’t want any company?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“ Yes. ”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Feel better soon, Scar!”
Scar waited until he heard the heavy footfalls of Sausage’s boots leaving before he dropped his smile, releasing a long, pained breath. He was so aware of his teeth in his mouth, tingling in ways that weren’t painful, but deeply uncomfortable. He felt every nerve in his lower back fire up and buzz in waves, traveling further than seemed fair. Scar hadn’t considered this before deciding on a plan to wipe out his old crew. Live or die. That’s what he was prepared for. Not this. He glared at Mumbo, or rather, his ghost, laying next to him on the ground, blank eyes fixed on the ceiling. Mumbo’s own form was in quite a state of disrepair as well, drifting apart in pieces lined by the orange cracks that splintered through his body like shattered glass.
“What’s your problem?” Scar slid his head over the side of his bed to stare down at Mumbo on the floor, “Are you just going to sit and mope for the rest of your f-aAaugh-” Scar crumbled as an intense wave of pain spasmed through his lower back, stealing his breath. When the pain eased, Scar looked back to see a small smile on Mumbo’s face.
“Does that make you feel better? Seeing me like this?” Scar growled, but his anger only fueled the fire of his pain. He took a deep breath.
Mumbo spoke despite the fact Scar couldn’t hear him and gestured with a cracked hand, ‘So-so’
“I guess anyone could’ve seen that coming,” Scar sighed, settling back down in bed. It hurt. He turned onto his side. That was worse. He rolled onto his back, and then onto his stomach. There was no getting comfortable. At least with Mumbo somewhat appeased, the pain had eased slightly. After about ten minutes though, it was back to unbearable levels. He moved back to look at Mumbo.
“What can I do to get you to leave me alone. What do you want? The rest of your crew is probably having fun plotting my imminent death, why don’t you hang with them?”
Mumbo’s head tilted to face Scar’s, eyes narrowing in passive thought. The ghost tried to sit up, making a frustrated pouting gesture when several pieces of his upper body stayed on the floor. Maybe, another day, Scar would have laughed. But now, he only watched, daring to hope.
“Right,” Scar grunted as Mumbo seemed mostly put back together, but shrunk back with an aggressive point from the ghost, “Guess I’m not in a place to be impatient, but I hope you understand,” Scar forced a smile, but it broke quickly with another spasm of pain. He buried his face in his mattress, muffling his own whimpers. When he could breathe again, he opened his eyes to see Mumbo pointing to something on his shelf. He buried his head back into his bed.
“Not the stupid- no. I am not doing the ouija board with you. I’m not giving you that power over me.”
Mumbo did not move.
“Anything else! We all saw what Pearl did to Kyle when the Kestrels got me that as a joke. Those scratches still haven’t healed! It’s hard enough trying to convince them ghosts aren’t real or haunting me or- come on!” Scar couldn’t crush the desperation that slipped through his tone, but the threat of his pain destroyed every facade. Mumbo wouldn’t care. Scar had given him every reason not to.
Mumbo furrowed his brow and spoke, enunciating clearly so Scar could get a reasonable idea of what he was saying. ‘I’m not Pearl.’
Scar had no choice. Mumbo moved to let him through as Scar left his bed, eyeing him with intense focus. Scar couldn’t help feeling like a prey animal under scrutiny like that. He stopped at his shelf to look at his door, biting his lip.
“You won’t call them, will you? I don’t know how these things work.. I don’t want all four of you at my neck.”
Mumbo shook his head. Scar wasn’t sure he could believe him, but he couldn’t dwell. At this point, maybe dying would be better than the rest of his life spent in this pain. He took the ouija board from the shelf, setting it gently on the ground. Fear bubbled up in his stomach, and he didn’t know anymore if his shaking hands were solely caused by weakness and pain. Mumbo sat across from him, gesturing for Scar to begin. Scar put his hands on the planchette.
“Right then. What do you want?” His voice failed when he tried to force any ounce of authority through it. As Mumbo’s hands slid over his, he felt them, solid and real. Mumbo seemed surprised as well, letting out a small gasp of shock. A gasp Scar heard.
Scar yelled, scrambling backwards from the ouija board. His heart raced- his heart - he was alive. He was okay. Mumbo looked up with wide eyes, hands still resting on the planchette. When he spoke, Scar couldn’t hear him. Ah. Good..
“You can touch me.”
Mumbo gave him an exasperated look, nodding. Scar didn’t need to hear him to know what he wanted. ‘Now come back.’
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to. But desire to ease the fire in his back outweighed any amount of fear he felt. Scar scooted back across from Mumbo, who moved his hands so Scar could place his own down first. Mumbo’s were solid. Cold. It was a cold that crept all the way up his body, from his fingers to the tips of his hair. As it washed over his back, he felt a deep relief. The pain wasn’t gone, no, but it didn’t feel important anymore, like it had suddenly been placed into the background of his senses.
“This is weird,” Scar managed, closing his eyes. His own voice sounded distant as well, but the fear that had gripped him had been washed away with his pain. He was relaxed. For the first time since he reached the faction isles, he didn’t feel the looming threat of vengeful ghosts. Ironic, considering he was sitting across from one of them. He opened his eyes again when Mumbo squeezed his hands, and startled when he saw him speaking. No sound.
“What? Why can’t I hear you?” Scar said, squinting.
“I don’t know!”
Both of them paused, staring.
“What’s happening?” Scar’s voice was flat. Mumbo looked just as confused. He opened his mouth as a test, speaking slowly, as if the ability might be taken from him at any moment.
“I think.. you have to ask me questions. Makes sense with the ouija board I guess. We might be able to touch each other because of our connection? This definitely didn’t happen with Pearl and Kyle.. not that she waited very long before trying to maim him..” Mumbo trailed off, closing his eyes, “I feel so warm.”
“I feel cold. It’s.. it’s really nice.” Scar hung his head lightly, reveling in his relief. Mumbo squeezed his hand again. Oh right. Questions.
“Back to it then. Clearly you wanted to talk, so..” Scar stopped, distracted by a wave of nostalgia. He had always enjoyed the proximity of the Boatem crew; close as friends, but also the way they had held hands and hugged and enjoyed each other’s company. This- communication between him and the dead- this wasn’t even supposed to be friendly; this was business ! But company the same. Scar shook his head. He burned that bridge. He escaped. But.. until now, he didn’t realize how much he had missed this.
Scar gritted his teeth, struggling to choke down emotion welling up in his throat. Just because the ghosts of his old crew hadn’t moved on, didn’t mean he needed to dwell. He wondered absently if he had to be touching the planchette to keep in this state, where his physical needs were suspended. A state where ghost crews and pain didn’t matter. His body moved before his brain could consider itself, shifting one of his hands slowly out from under Mumbo’s palm and sliding his thumb over the top of his old friend’s hand. Mumbo flinched, pulling the same hand away and grabbing Scar’s wrist. He gasped, trying in vain to pull away from Mumbo’s grip.
“You’re stronger than you were before,” Scar breathed, another wave of cold washing over him. He hadn’t realized it could be better. His back- even his eye and his throat and his stomach- every discomfort he’d been cursed with for all these months seemed to fade into a distant memory. He felt Mumbo’s nails in his arm, and realized he had forgotten to ask a question. “What was it.. you wanted?”
Mumbo’s gaze flickered back and forth from Scar, indecision flashing across his face.
“I don’t.. what are you doing, Scar.” There was no question in Mumbo’s voice.
“I’m not sure. When you touch me I feel cold. It’s a good cold, it takes everything away. It makes me feel.. above it all,” Scar paused, remembering last minute to finish with a question, “How does it make you feel?”
Mumbo’s lips parted, looking quite startled. He furrowed his brow, clearly thinking of how to put it into words. “I forgot what it was like to feel warm. It’s something I’ve imagined.. dreamed about even- not that I sleep but- it feels like I’m alive.”
“I want to be colder. I don’t want to feel anything at all,” Scar veered forward, eyes alight with wild excitement. Mumbo jumped at Scar’s sudden proximity. Scar felt his breath. Mumbo’s breath. “Do you want to feel alive?”
“What are you asking, Scar?” Mumbo’s voice raised with Scar’s own, looking more frightened than Scar had seen him in a long while.
“I want to kiss you. I want this to consume us.”
Scar couldn’t hear what Mumbo said next; he hadn’t asked a question, but he got a pretty good idea based on the alarmed expression on his face.
“I know. I know. It’s crazy. But what’s stopping us? Grian and Pearl and Impulse- they don’t have to know. We don’t have to take it any further- I don’t even know if we can. I don’t care. I just want your body on mine.”
Mumbo opened his mouth to speak, but once more, no words came out. Apparently he had to end with a question, but he didn’t have time to ask before Mumbo was kissing him, hand still gripped tightly around his wrist. It was so delightfully cold. He tried to lift his other hand, still resting on the planchette, but Mumbo’s own pressed firmly on top of it, as if to say don’t let go .
“Well either you better release your hold on my wrist so I can pull you closer, or move in,” Scar mumbled against his cheek, letting Mumbo’s cool touch sink in. He was hungry for it, he needed it , and he’d do anything just to feel out of his own, broken body. Mumbo let go, allowing Scar to drag him in.
No one’s lips had ever tasted sweeter. No tongue more enticing than his. It was everything and a beautiful nothing all at once, and Scar never wanted to let go. He didn’t need to, he didn’t even need to breath-
Mumbo broke away panting, eyes wide as he put his free hand to the rise and fall of his chest. “Shit, that’s.. what‘s wrong?”
Scar stared. That wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. “I didn’t.. I didn’t ask you anything. I can hear you.”
“What? No way! That’s awesome!”
But when Scar started to respond, Mumbo didn’t react to his voice, caught up in his own excitement. Mumbo didn’t.. hear him. Scar yelped, fear shattering the trance. Mumbo’s eyes widened as Scar started to pull away, coming to the same conclusion just too late. Scar’s second hand left the planchette, and all at once; the heat, the pain, all of it , slammed back into him. He laid on the ground, eyes shut tightly. He breathed. He was breathing. His back ached. Scar opened his eyes to see Mumbo staring, looking equal parts concerned as he looked disappointed. But Mumbo didn’t look sad. And Scar’s back wasn’t throbbing anymore.
“Ah. Good deal then?” Scar sat up as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, and reached to lift the ouija board from the ground. Mumbo blinked in alarm, reaching forward only for his hand to pass directly through Scar’s. Mumbo spoke, words flying from his mouth rapidly, but as usual, Scar couldn’t hear them. Scar smiled to himself as he put the ouija board back onto the shelf.
“You liked that, did you?” Scar turned back, pleased to see Mumbo looking very embarrassed. As well as a lot of other emotions, he was sure. Scar had plenty of his own thoughts, most prominently, oh no. “Well I liked it too,” Scar said, forcing a grin. Mumbo gave him a mortified look. He dropped the smile and turned his attention back to the ouija board on his shelf. “Geez. This won’t work. So we’re definitely keeping this between us, right?” But when he turned around, Mumbo was already gone. Well, that checked.
Scar closed his eyes, allowing himself to linger in the moment. To live in a world where he would ever be able to do that again. But, no. His old crew hated him. Mumbo hated him, as he should! Scar had moved on, he was done with them. Just because he’s stuck with their ghosts, doesn’t mean he had to be stuck in the past too. So what if he was stuck with their damn curses? He would cope. He always did. And anyway, with Mumbo in a better mood, maybe his back pain wouldn’t be a problem for a while.
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(this is kind of a long post that somehow turned into lowkey a conspiracy theory but i don’t want to rewrite the start bc it was written pretty much stream of consciousness and that amuses me)
maybe this is an unpopular opinion but i don’t want byler to be spoiled lol
crumbs, sure, little things that keep us invested, but i want to go into s5 completely unawares of how it’s gonna play out. i don’t want the cast or the official socials or some random leaker to tell me what’s gonna happen beforehand.
honestly the fact that so many people involved with the show have acknowledged byler yet none of them have shot it down as a possibility is a big enough crumb for me. or the way official netflix accounts have posted promotional things with byler since s4 dropped. yeah, they don’t have any involvement with the production of the show, but if the ship is being used for marketing then it’s considered a possible sales point.
actually now that i think of it, does anybody remember the june advent calendar??? when, immediately after v1 dropped, the official netflix accounts started posting pro-byler stuff damn near every day, to the point where we made an event out of it???
at the time we all got super hyped over it and then figured it was queerbait when they didn’t get together in v2, but isn’t it mighty fuckin convenient that the netflix accounts just “coincidentally” happened to start posting pro-byler stuff as soon as v1 dropped??? because yeah, byler started picking up traction immediately after it aired, but it took a while to really get the ball rolling. they started cashing in on the byler hyper train when it was only just beginning to grow from its tiny pre-s4 presence. seeing official accounts mentioning byler probably helped to cement it in a lot of people’s radar in the gap between the volumes. and didn’t noah also start saying he shipped byler around then??? 
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POSTED ON JUNE THIRD??? only a week after v1 aired??? and ppl were so surprised by this tweet that when he was on a panel somebody asked him if he got hacked 😭😭
back then it really seemed like “oh the official accounts are queerbaiting during pride month” but A: we know noah wasn’t just saying this for nothing,he’s made it very clear that he believes it and B: why the hell would they be queerbaiting the tiny fledgling post-v1 byler audience when it was only just coming together??!?
hindsight says something was afoot here actually. they started releasing the pro-byler agenda from its tightly locked enclosure AFTER the volume where mike tells will hawkins isn’t the same without him and will brings the painting “for somebody he likes” when they go to pick mike up, IN PREPARATION for the volume where will gives said painting to mike along with an extremely emotional nameswapped love confession and mike turns around and gives a stilted and phony confession to his girlfriend. why the hell was attention being drawn to byler outside of the show itself in that interval if not to make people recontextualize what they just saw in v1??? and then when they see v2 have that recontextualization validated when will is confirmed to be both gay and in love with mike??? and to pick up on the fact that mike and el’s relationship is on more rocks than your average pile of gravel???
we know that they’ve had actors straight up lie to the audience before, too, because even if u just take noah as an example he said in a JUNE interview that will’s sexuality was up to interpretation, and then not that long at all after v2 dropped he did the iconic “will is gay and in love with mike” interview!!! and obviously he knew that will was confirmed gay when he did the first interview bc they had filmed that scene like a year earlier. so the fact that he never rlly mentioned byler, except for vaguely negatively when he was a kid, until v1 comes out and “SUDDENLY” he’s byler’s biggest warrior doesn’t mean he randomly changed his mind, it means he hadn’t been allowed to talk about it until after volume 1. after the first half of the season that made the majority of byler shippers see it as a genuine possibility and even the most likely outcome.
sorry i have no idea how much sense this makes and i’ve completely derailed whatever i was talking about at the top of this post. has anybody pointed this out??? have i pointed this out and i just forgot??? help?!!?!??
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cyborg-franky · 2 years
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hi Franky! I saw that requests are open so I was wondering if you could please write some fluff/funny headcanons or a drabble (if it’s not too much) with Eustass kid and a strawhat gn reader where Kid is so flustered and tries to prepare himself to ask his crush on a date, maybe with some help from his firstmate/crew? I hope this is okay, feel free to ignore this ask if it doesn’t inspire you or if it’s too specific and thank you anyway ^^ ♡
I went really into this for a char I don't simp for haha I hope you enjoy <3
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Confidence was never something Kid lacked.
He had it in spades. He always felt untouchable.
So why was it when it came to you he felt his knees weak? 
He’d never show you had an effect on him though, never.
He’d just stand there with a smirk on his painted lips and arms folded over his chest.
Kid would even tease you just like any other member of the Strawhats. 
He respected you, you and your crew had earned it but that didn’t mean he could let you know he had an all-consuming crush on you.
As time went on, as you traveled and fought by his side with the rest, his crush was getting harder to ignore.
Your ships would part ways soon and he had no idea when he would get to see you next and that shot panic through him like no other.
His heart beat against his chest.
He’d all but grabbed Killer by his hair one night and started to wail his lament to the confused first mate.
Killer clicked his tongue in thought, the echo around the helmet as he considered the issue of great emotional importance to his captain.
And he shrugged his shoulders.
“Either figure it out or they leave tomorrow, if they reject you least their gone right?” Killer said and shrugged his shoulders once more.
Kid wasn’t entirely pleased with that answer but it did give him a slither to consider.
He hadn’t slept the entire night, pacing, knocking things off his desk in anger just to pick them all back up in a huff.
You’d been helping Sanji collect fruit along the beach, stocking up before you left for the next stretch of your journey.
Kid marched over, a stirn look on his face and you were convinced that he was about to come over and punch you in the jaw for whatever reason.
“I fuckin’ like you alright? I don’t care if you don’t feel the same I just needed to get it out before you and your crew pissed off somewhere.” He growled but saw the smile on your face.
“I like you too Kid, thanks for telling me, I’m not leaving my crew but I think you expected that answer.” He nodded, adjusting where he stood, trying to ground himself as emotions unseen whirled around inside him.
You parted ways, a kiss on the cheek and the exchange of numbers.
Long distance wasn’t that strange in the great pirate era after all.
And you both knew you’d see one another again.
Fate had a way of making you collide time and time again.
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