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baddiewiththebook · 8 months

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ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 2]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n I tried to tag everyone I saw, but some of y'all weren't linking. Also, there is a part three because part two became so long. Whoops!

[Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3]

-> <-

“You're eventually going to have to talk to them,” Robin shimmies her backpack into the empty chair next to her rather than being strewn across the lunchroom table. “As far as they know, you changed your hair and your clothes and now you hate them.”

You place your lunch tray onto the open space, then sit across from her.

Distancing from your friends was cruel, and you knew that. Robin is also right. Still, you wake an hour early to get to school ahead of them. Taking windy pathways past the gymnasium that stunk of socks to avoid Eddie on his way to his classroom that is two doors away from yours. You carry all of your heaviest books now because Gareth’s locker is across from yours. You do regret leaving that sandwich in your locker though. Gross.

With a routine schedule, two months have flown by without a hitch in the plan. Robin likes sitting with you at lunch, but she does wish you chose to sit here rather than watching you screw away at a tight bond with the boys over at the other table.

Things were desperate by the first week when you shoved toilet paper up your nose in order to fib to Eddie that you were too sick to go anywhere. You missed two days of class just so you could keep away from him.

Then, there was the band performances. You never missed a single night that Corroded Coffin played music at the scrappy biker bar at the outskirts of town. The boys had stopped inviting you after “missing two,” but you snuck into the shadows in the back of the bar. No one really bothered you there. Stage lights distracted the performers enough to where they could only see the front row of drunks.

All of the practice in Gareth’s garage paid off. Corroded Coffin was good - no, excellent. You were so proud of the boys.

You wish you could tell them.

And, so, maybe Robin is right. All of this running around is silly and reckless. You miss all of your friends dearly. Even Eddie, who still you find absolutely and undoubtedly the most complicated soul you ever met in your entire life. Your friendship is more to you than desperately clinging to his ankle like a shaken chihuahua in heat.

Maybe there is a part of you that still wishes he’d see. All the effort you put into your hair, your skin and your nails isn’t just about proving that you aren’t just one of the guys. You knew this from the very beginning. Still, even after your conversation with Gareth that one night, you still play out this plot a little longer.

You like the shiny bling and the tighter clothes that get you a bit more attention. But, you didn’t have to change yourself completely - right?

“Isn’t it time for me to mingle with people who have similar interests as me?” You say finally out of your head. Snagging one of Robin’s fries, you drop down in the seat across from her.

“You've proven you can be a chick with or without that frizzy haired freak. Don't act like you don't like the same stuff they do,” she flicks your jacket, which has hours of patchwork done. You had sewn on patches of your favorite bands. Most of the bands, you had learned from Eddie, himself.

Hours of listening to music together in his trailer, while sharing a blunt. Eddie would get a wind of energy and then he’d leap onto his bed for a solo performance. Fingers stroking a guitar that never existed. You laugh as he tumbles over his mattress, and he tells you that’s when the crowd will carry him - to victory!

You warm at the memory.

Eddie is the only person at his lunch table. Kicking his foot up onto an empty chair, he lounges and he waits for his friends. He’s always the first to get there because his class is so close to the cafeteria. It takes Gareth and Jeff a longer time because they come from the gym. And, the freshman come from the opposite side of the school, so they take the longest to get to the cafeteria.

“Go on,” Robin nudges you. “I’ll see you in math later.”

By the time Robin kicks you thrice in the shin, you get over your worries. You want to patch your friendships up with the boys, but you’re not sure what to tell them. Explaining the truth felt horrific. That you like - er - liked Eddie. Gareth’s confession in the kitchen.

Yeah, the truth seems far fetched.

Your second option is to beg for them to quit calling you ‘one of the guys,’ but that too came off risky. You've never had a problem with their comments before, or their disgusting antics and habits. Once you smell a Jeff fart, then all of the other farts seem forgiving. Seriously, no one should ever give him cheese again. Yet, they do.

Anyway, talking to Eddie first feels less daunting then to come up to all of them at once. But, with your stalling, your wish comes to late. The boys rush the table, hollering and whooping like unkept animals.

You stop in your tracks fully when you see two women beeline for the table. They never invite people to their table. Or at least, they never invite just anyone.

Roxie is easy to recognize. Candy coated red lips meet that of Eddie’s pale cheek that blushes a deep crimson at the affection. Eddie hangs his head, so he can smack a wet kiss to her lips. She uses a free hand to swipe the spare lipstick from his mouth.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cooed.

Roxie touches his hair in a way that makes his eyes droop low, and he rests his head on her chest. All while he keeps his conversation with Jeff going.

Meanwhile, the other woman is her opposite.

Brunette hair cascades down her back, and tangles amongst her woven sweatshirt. Arms wide open with her slender fingers covered by the net sweater she hid under. She sneaks up on Gareth, and hangs over his neck. Gareth cranes his neck, and whispers in her ear making her laugh sweetly. He touches her wrist with gentle fingers and he pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with his free hand, before they have a chance to slip further down her face.

“Indie!” Dustin shouts.

The girl hanging from Gareth picks her head up, and grins with a shining sparkle in her eye at the young freshman. She reaches over to ruffle his hair.

You panic.

Slamming into someone’s shoulder, you apologize and you retreat like a mouse being stepped on. Time slows down. You move around people as fast as your feet will carry you.

You can hear your breath in your ears meeting up with your heart banging against your ribcage.

Robin calls to you, but you can’t hear her. Blood rushes through you, and you swear your can feel the swimming and the tingling. Your fingertips tingle when you push open the door into the hallway.

Technically speaking, you couldn’t be out here if you're on our lunch period. A few classes still go on, but mostly the teachers didn’t want anyone to catch them smoking in their classrooms where they shouldn’t be. It’s not like the smell lingers.

Somewhere down the hallway, a classroom is having a heated debate. Voices bounce from wall to wall. Echoing into your eardrums. All. Too. Much. You aim for the big showy doors at the front of the building.

Cool damp air hits your cheeks. Trees stand tall. Birds hold meetings on their branches. They sing soft melodies. Outside smells earthy.

Immersing yourself in the sourness of the damp remains of rainfall, you slow your jagged breathing. Your heart beat regulates.

Keys trembling in your fist, you find your car parked not too far away in the parking lot. Some asshole has blocked your passenger side in, so even if you wanted too you wouldn't be able to get in that way.

Kicking yourself for taking the cowards way out, you catch a tearful glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Mascara slips down your cheeks. Your drowning in two inches of water.

Eddie's bandana sits in your glove compartment. It still remains his with the lingering tang of old cigarettes and sweat. You told him if he left that nasty thing in here that you'd wash the stink out.

You haven't.

Clinging to a tissue, you use that to pat your face dry. Dabbing at your eyes, you don't want to disturb your makeup. Funny how a few months ago, you would be scrubbing your cheeks raw to get anything off of your face.

The tapping on your window startles you because you think a teacher has seen you. However, you find only Robin with a pitiful expression on her face. She waves for you to roll down your window, then holds out your backpack and your jacket that you’ve left behind in your scurry to get out of school.

“You left your things,” she looks at your puffy eyes and your worn out makeup. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you reach out for your things, only to put them in the passenger seat next to you, “I think I’ll go home.”

“Indie is a really nice girl-,”

“I’m not worried about Indie.”

Robin winces at the sharpness of your tone slicing through the air like butter. You apologize to her.

“I’m going to go home, Robin.”

“Roxie and Eddie are only going to last for a day - I guarantee,” her shoulders bobble. “It’s Roxie.”

“Yeah,” you say thinly.

Robin taps your car. “Get home safe.”

“Will do,” you say. “Thank you.”

-> <-

When you arrived at school the next day, you're in class for less than fifteen minutes before your name blasts on the intercom to report to the main office. Robin salutes you from her seat in the back of home room like you’re taking a final walk, before they take you around the back and shoot you between the eyes. Well done, soldier.

Although not as dramatic, you were served a detention slip for after school. You suspected as such, since you left halfway through school without an explanation. Next time you'll go to the nurse, and heat up the thermometer with your tongue. Give her a cough, or a sneeze and she would send you home.

You tap your fresh manicure across the etchings in the desk. Profanities. Markings of once was, and forever will be.

Low rumbles cause for distraction. You pick a desk next to a window where you see the gray clouds clustering in close. They spit at the ground. Droplets of water slip across the glass. You guess which droplet will get to the bottom first, and silently cheer the winner.

Your eye drifts to the front of the class where your chest rises and falls at the next person to walk through the door. All those months of hiding your head felt worthless when Eddie shows up.

For a moment, you think, he’s looking right at you. You swallow, but you try waving. Eddie does ignore you and plops himself into a chair at the front of the classroom. His backpack drops with a thunk.

Tipping your attention back to the window, the rain comes down harder in flashes of wet thunder and lightening. Dark and stormy weather is your favorite. Because, after the rain stops, you like splashing in every puddle until you can’t see the color of your boots anymore.

You can’t do that in your new sneakers. Not a speck of dust on them. Barely out of the box.

“Everyone in their seats,” a man in a blazer walking with an arch to his spine tells us. He hovers at the front of the classroom with both hands on his desk, while peering just above his square framed lenses. Wild gray hairs stick out on end near his ears. You wonder if he’s done this on purpose to accentuate that despite he’s bald on top of his head, he still in fact has hair. “I’m Mr. Clark, and this will be an hour long detention session.”

You came prepared with notebooks and homework to do for the next hour.

“I’ll be taking attendance, and then you may quietly do your homework or read . . . for all I care, bang your head against the desk just be quiet,” he aims the metaphorical bullet at Eddie and misses, and hits the wall just over the top of his head.

Eddie clicks his teeth. “You got it teach.”

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark groans. “Will I ever get tired of seeing your face?”

Eddie grins famously. “Oh, you know you’ll never get tired of me, Dick.”

“It’s Richard,” he clears his throat, then straightens his tie, “Mr. Clark to you.”

You miss the banter. The smart mouth Eddie that has you drooling. Oh, God, please resist getting sucked in again.

The notebook in front of you has pages of blank white paper. You focus on filling in the lines with your math equations.

“Solve for E,” you tell yourself in a hushed whisper. “What ever happened to X?”

So, you solve for E.

You raise your hand when your name is called for the attendance. Pretending that Eddie didn’t whip around at your name, instead you solve for E. You solve for E because E is the equivalent of- E is the equivalent of-

Eddie can’t help, but watch your eyebrows get closer and closer to your nose. You get frazzled easily when you know you’re close to an answer that’s on the tip of your tongue.

You’re breaking now. Keeping your head down, as Eddie burns holes into the top of your head. E isn’t an equivalent of anything. E is the most complex and confusing letter of the alphabet. You swore up and down that you would avoid E. E’s in front of you. There’s no way to escape E for an entire hour. Even when you think you've solved E, you still have to see E living in a trailer across from you. E’s lights still on. Eating. Watching TV. Changing. Sleeping. Dreaming.

Crap, you are not thinking about the fifth letter in the alphabet. And, you are certainly not thinking about math.

You throw down your pencil in frustration.

Eddie waits for Mr. Clark to finish his attendance taking. In mere moments, the old geezer passes out despite his fifth coffee of the day. He rocks back in his chair, arms at his side with a trail of drool spilling out down his chin.

That’s when Eddie moves.

“Hey,” you have your head down on your desk by now, but Eddie doesn’t care.

He doesn’t understand why you’re avoiding the group. Obviously, he misses when you would sit at the table and you correct his homework from the night before. You’re too smart for him. Eddie knows this. You’re more than a brain to him, though. The way you speak with your hands more and more when you get excited.

Eddie likes to pretend not to understand why he gets nervous when you lean over his shoulders to show him how to work out a problem in one of his classes. He pretends to not notice the scent of your soap that smells so sweet and delicious. That the smell lingers when you leave.

What he can't shake, however, is why you haven’t been speaking to him for the last two months. Darting into empty classrooms when you think he’s not looking. When your home, you'll keep the lights off or low enough that he might forget you’re home (he doesn’t). And, you think you’re clever sneaking into the back of his performances with the band, but Eddie sees you there dancing by yourself with a grin on your face that could break apart the gray days and bring back the sunshine. You haven’t missed a single performance yet.

So, where have you been?

You bring your head up from the table because you know Eddie is smarter than to think you’ve fallen asleep. Sometimes you talk, or you twitch your arms - Eddie’s seen this when you knock out after a long day. He'll let you sleep there, but he'll take off your shoes so that you're comfortable. And, he'll even place a blanket over you because you'll start to shiver. But, he never stays. He doesn't want you to wake up because Eddie is notoriously clumsy. Instead, Eddie would sneak into the living room twiddling his thumbs making no noise until you wake up. He wouldn't turn on the television. He wouldn't warm anything up in the microwave. He wouldn't even open his fridge. He would sit on the floor of his living room kicking his feet together, and plucking at the carpet fibers.

You never sleep long - thirty minutes at most.

Eddie thinks about how much time you spend together in his trailer at this moment. You’ve shared everything. Clothes. Towels. Blankets. Toothpaste. Food. Secrets. You've made a mark on him when he wasn’t looking. If there is a way to tattoo someone into their brain, into their heart, you're there.

That terrifies him.

“Hi,” your voice melts him.

Eddie stumbles over his words. “Erm-,”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I just-,”

“How are you doing?” Eddie wants you to keep talking. He’ll ask about anything to keep you here with him. Tempting you like a rabbit, and him holding onto a carrot, he waits for you to bite.

“Good,” you reply. “You?”

“Yeah, good.”

You can’t hold back. “You’re with Roxie, now?”

“Hm?” He hums. “It’s casual.”

“Casual,” you repeat. “Like I said- erm- I’m sorry that I haven’t been around. My classes-,”

“Don’t lie to me,” Eddie’s eyes swell, and you fall deeper into the trap. “What’s happening to you?”

Okay, truth time.

“I liked a boy, and he didn’t like me back,” you stretch out your top. “I even tried changing my look, but that seems pretty pointless now. But, I guess I just got tired of being compared to a boy.”

Eddie could faint. You're infatuated with someone so much that you changed your entire wardrobe. Guilt rubs at him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie's denying what he already knows about himself. That if he kept comparing you to one of his guy friends that certain emotions couldn't grasp hold of the surface for air.

“Who's comparing you to a boy?”

He had to be sure.

“Seriously?” you frown. “Everyone. You. Gareth-,”

Confirmed.

“Is this about Gareth?” Eddie clenches his fist around the back of his chair. “I swear to God, I’ll pummel that little sack of shit.”

“Eddie,” you scold. “It’s not Gareth- never mind.”

“Wait, who’s the guy?”

You hum. “What?”

“You said you liked some guy?” Eddie pieces together. “It has to be one of us, right? I mean you stopped talking to all of us specifically, so which one of us is it?”

“That’s not important,” you suck in a breath. “Eddie, I’m doing homework.”

He snorts, the flips the page so he can read the question, “you’re doing it wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t I usually the one who’s correcting you?”

“Gareth’s girlfriend has been helping me since you- never mind,” Eddie sees the tension in your jaw. “Okay, so to solve for E, you plug in this number here and then you take the square root there.”

You’re irritated, but Eddie is right and you mark your paper up how the equation should be.

“Thank you.”

“So, it’s Gareth,” Eddie presses on.

“What?”

“The boy you like that doesn’t like you back?”

“No,” you write another math equation out on your piece of paper. “Actually, Gareth liked me, and I didn’t feel the same.”

Eddie knows this, but he just needs to hear you say you don't like his friend.

“The plot thickens,” he gets comfortable. “Is it Jeff? Come on, Jeff is a catch.”

“Eddie, please drop it,” you beg.

Eddie throws a few more names out that you can ignore over your homework. But, slowly he begins to run out of ideas. You know where he’s going, and you’re not sure how to react when he says,

“It’s not me is it?”

Your pencil stops scribbling, and if you’re careful you can pretend to be thinking really hard about - what two plus two equals. Oh, damn.

“It is me.”

Those three little words trip you up more than Eddie’s jaw being on the floor right now. You stammer for a little too long. Tripping over the right words to say to him.

This is it.

The moment you’ll lose him for good.

You want him to just tear your heart from your chest and squeeze it until it pops. Make the pain of an aching heart go by so much faster.

“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark rose like a zombie from the afterlife. “Is there a reason that your seat is empty?”

Eddie whirled around. Still stunned, he replies,

“Uh. . . right, sorry.”

Without making too much noise, Eddie puts himself back into his original seat towards the front of the classroom. Fidgeting with his pencil, someone might mistake that he’s doing homework for the first time.

Eddie lives across the trailer park from you. How could he not see this coming? All the nights he's spent rescuing you from the clutches of your mom, who, despite being a wonderful host, has this unnecessary plea that you embrace your ‘femininity.’ That’s what you call it, he thinks.

Oh, and now to let you down.

Eddie’s seeing someone great. Roxie. She’s - she’s - she’s not as much of a slut as people say. And, he likes - no he loves that thing she does with her tongue.

Okay, he’s getting distracted.

You’re one of his closest and longest friendships he’s had. And now, you, have to go and change that.

Eddie’s mad. Angrier than angry. How dare you bring this to him.

Two months you kept away. You ran around the school like a chicken with your head cut off trying to avoid all of your loyal friends. And, you brought Robin into this mess?

Robin, at the very least, is a sweet and a neutral party. Okay? She doesn’t involve herself with anyone’s drama. She just sticks to the side of the drama like she's riding in a sidecar, and she takes notes. She lingers.

Eddie rubs his eye.

Maybe if you and he went on one tiny - the tiniest - date. As in, he doesn’t pay for food, kind of dates then you’ll get whatever you want out. You can go back to being friends, and Eddie can still see Roxie. Because, he likes Roxie.

He doesn’t like you like that.

Eddie wants nothing more than to forget the conversation you two just had. Yet, you’re lodged in his brain like a damn tumor. Yeah, a tumor. Growing at an alarming rate, he wants to smush your pretty little face. Not in a violent way - no, he’s not like that. He just wants to get out the tension, and - and hold you for a night? Does that make sense?

No, Eddie it does not.

Eddie wishes you didn’t smell so good today . . . and all the other days. If you smelled like an ogre, he could stop thinking about taking you on that ‘barely-call-it-a-date’ date. Although, if you were an ogre and you did smell as good as you do right now - ugh, that doesn't matter!

None of this matters. Why is he thinking like this?

In theory, he’ll take you somewhere romantic. To release you of your crush faster, he’ll spend the money - okay? He decides to break the bank for you.

Only once.

There’s a little spot outside of town that has the most delicious steak dinners. They have a dimly lit dining room, so Eddie wouldn’t have to see the dress you spent hours deciding on wearing. Your bare skin softened by the scented lotion you bought just for the night. He can hear your laugh like a song he knows by memory. You tilt your head back, exposing the flesh of your neck.

After your dinner, that he pays for - not you, he’ll walk you down the street where he parked his van earlier. He’ll have cleaned out and scrubbed the seats until every stain kicks the bucket. Driving you home, he’ll feel that knot in his chest that he knows from watching cheesy romantic comedy movies as practice for when that crap happens to him (he doesn't do that . . . shut up.). That knot tighten a little more by the time he gets to the trailer park. And, by the time he gets out of the car his fingertips start to shake.

Eddie will open your door, if he can get there before you. Taking your hand in his, he’ll feel the warmth of your skin against his. How right the moment feels. How nervous your breath is against his. How close you are to him. He’ll be the one to learn in first - you're too nervous to make that leap.

Lips as sweet as milk and honey. He would kiss you for a long time, always coming back for more. Eddie won't find himself getting enough of you. You’re touching his hair, and he melts.

Eddie will never want the night to end.

“Munson!”

Eddie doesn’t recall falling asleep. Yet, his eyes snap open. Mr. Clark’s slobbering from the side of his mouth. He’s so close that Eddie makes out the patches in his face where he’s forgotten to shave.

The classroom is emptying. He only catches a glimpse of you leaving.

“Go home, boy,” Mr. Clark begs. “You and I both know you don’t want to be here for any longer.”

No, Eddie does not.

In fact, Eddie would much rather be wrapped in your arms in either his bed or your bed.

Eddie shoves his notebook and his pencil back into his backpack knowing full well he heard something crunch unhappily in there. Racing out of the classroom, he sprints after you in the hallway.

But, you’ve already gone.

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson preference #angst

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noisynaia · 1 year

Note

Hey! I really love your Mando fics. Can I request something where the reader is traveling with Din and Grogu on the crest (could be Grogu's babysitter or something) and Din has a huge crush on her and seeing how much she loves grogu makes him want to confess his feelings. Just some nice Mando fluff, can be sfw or nsfw, whatever you feel like. 💕

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲

Thank you for the request! I had so much fun writing this ♡

word count: 5.7k

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader

note: Explicit (18+). Smut and fluff. Thigh riding, unprotected P in V (with use of contraception), creampie. Love confessions. The helmet comes off. The Razor Crest lives. No use of (y/n). This has not been beta nor proof read and English is not my native language.

Din’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you. He has tried to fight the feelings he has developed for you, convinced himself that his feelings aren’t truly as deep cutting as they feel. Tried to be content with the time you would spend with him and Grogu before you eventually would move on and he’d be left with the memories and the fantasies of how it would have been if you had really been his. The sight of you and Grogu is almost too much for him, and it makes it very hard for him to not just give up everything and tell you how you make him feel. Your features are highlighted by the silvery moon light that is shining down from the night sky.

You are beautiful.

Din had thought so from the moment he first saw you. But now, after you have travelled with him and Grogu for almost a year and he has gotten to know you, really know you, ‘beautiful’ simply doesn’t cut it anymore. The word in basic is feeling too banal, too trivial, to describe the true beauty of your being. You are the most beautiful person Din has ever known and he is confirmed in this by you every day.

The way you smile up at him when you walk side by side in a crowded market when you’re on supply runs, always insisting on finding a treat or a new toy for Grogu. The way you always greet Din so happily when he comes back from a hunt, like you truly are happy to see him again, like you have actually missed him… How you will always make sure he is okay and hasn’t been hurt, and how you will insist on helping patch him up on the occasions he is. The feeling of your soft hands delicately placing a bacta patch on his bare shoulder a few weeks ago is still burnt into his skin… The way you take such good care of his son, you look at Grogu like he is the one who hung every moon and every star in the galaxy. The kindness and beauty of your soul is truly bewitching. Maybe that is why he started calling you mesh’la.

The first time it had just slipped out. It was a couple of months ago. He had come back from a hunt late at night, tired and muddy. For a short moment, Din had felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs by the sight he had found. There you were, so lovely, so beautiful, fast asleep on his bunk with a sleeping Grogu curled up beside you, his little green fist closed around one of your fingers.

Din’s heart had yearned by the sight. The feelings you and Grogu are bringing to him are new territory for Din. He has never wanted anything like this before, or at least never let himself admit that he does. But you and Grogu make it impossible for Din to keep lying to himself. The kid is under his care, under his protection, and from the moment he chose the armour instead of the sabre and came back to Din, his ad'ika. Din and Grogu are a clan. A clan of two. A clan that Din wishes was a clan of three.

He had been quiet when he started to walk off to the cockpit, something he usually was good at, but you had stirred awake anyway, like your sleeping subconscious had felt his presence. You lifted your head from the pillow, sleepily blinked until your eyes had found him.

“You’re back.” You had said, your voice had been a little hoarse from sleep, but still as sweet as usual, a tired smile had painted your face as your eyes had found the dark T of his visor.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He had said, but you had just shaked your head and hugged Grogu close against you. Oh, how Din had wished he could have crawled into the bunk and joined the two of you.

“Are you okay?” You had asked, just like you always do after he comes back from a hunt.

“Yes, I’m okay.” He had reassured you before continuing. “Go back to sleep, mesh’la.”

He has never told you what it means and a part of him feels guilty about that. Maybe you wouldn’t like to be called that by him. You are technically his employee, even though the lines between you feel pretty blurry by now. An undefinable bond has been built between you, Grogu and Din. Maybe it is the small proximity there is forced upon the three of you, due to the size of the Razor Crest. Or maybe it is due to the undeniable connection there has been between you and Grogu from the beginning, but your presence on the Crest feels too domestic, too loving, for you to simply be Grogu’s nanny.

Din has felt feelings this past year that he has not been acquainted with before. Desire, jealousy, a desperate yearning, all fairly foreign to him until you had entered his life. It is an emotional disruption he hasn’t felt since Grogu had come into his life.

When Grogu had come crashing into his life it had been an upheaval beyond anything Din could ever have imagined. He was so used to not having anyone around, let alone a small child that was so dependent on him. It had been confusing and foreign, but Grogu had climbed into his heart and carved out a space there. A space that Din never wants to become empty again.

Din had never been aware of how lonely he actually had been before Grogu. It had been a hard realisation, but he couldn’t deny it any longer, especially when he thought that he had lost him. Forget hunting bounties and fighting ferocious creatures, handing his foundling over to the Jedi was the hardest thing Din has ever had to do. Din had ended up caring more for Grogu than he had ever thought possible, he had removed his helmet for his foundling, the little green child had given din a whole new purpose in life.

And now Din is a changed man. Grogu has changed him, down to the very atoms of his DNA. Din had never thought he would have what he now has. He had been settled with the way his life had been- lonesome and brutal, in order to support his covert and give back to the Mandalorians that had taken him in, or he had at least used to think so…

But seeing you now, there is really no way of running from his feelings any longer. You are gently bouncing Grogu on your hip as you point out a constellation for him, but the youngling seems to be more interested in playing with the hem of your tunic than looking at the stars over your heads. The silver light from the planet’s moons illuminates you and bathes you in the shine.

Din had landed the Crest on the little planet not even twenty minutes ago and even though it was past Grogu’s bedtime you had insisted on letting him have a couple of minutes in the fresh air before putting him down for the night. Din had not objected, the three of you had been in space for almost a week straight so a little moonlit night stroll before bed had sounded tempting.

A light breeze sweeps over you and Grogu lets go of your tunic to instead nuzzle himself close against your chest as he lets out a cute little yawn. You let out a low chuckle before looking up at Din and his heart skips a beat for the second time this night. The stars are reflecting in your eyes and you have a sleepy smile on your lips.

“I think it is time to get our little one here back to his bed.” You chuckle while you hitch Grogu up a little higher on your hip.

‘Our little one…’

Our!

Dear Maker how Din wished that you had meant it in the way he secretly yearns for.

“Yeah, let’s head back to the ship, mesh’la.”

—

Grogu is sleepily blinking his big eyes up at you as he slowly snoozes off in your arms. You let out a content sigh as you plant a kiss on top of his little green head before carefully placing him down into his little hammock. The sound of his small soft snores echoes through the little sleeping chamber. You are never gonna get tired of this. You smile down at the little sleeping figure as you back away, turning the switch for the door to give the youngling peace to sleep.

You look around the hull for Din, but you don’t find him so you climb up the ladder to the cockpit where you find him sitting in the pilot chair. He looks like he is lost deep in his thoughts, looking out through the window at the night dark meadow where he had docked the ship.

“Hey.” You say as you approach him, sitting yourself down in the passenger seat next to him.

“Hi.” He says without looking at you.

A silence falls over the cockpit, not necessarily an uncomfortable one, but it does feel loaded with something you can’t really put your finger on. Din had been silent for the entire walk back to the Crest and you wonder if something is bothering him. Maybe he is just tired. You had told him to take the bunk tonight when you made it back to the ship, but he had refused. You were supposed to be taking turns sleeping in the bunk under Grogu’s hammock, but it has been weeks since Din has slept in it and wasn't like he did it often before that. You feel bad about it, his back must be killing him after all these nights on the hard mat on the floor.

“Din is-” You lean forward in the passenger chair, leaning slightly towards him to try and catch his attention. “Is something wrong?”

He finally looks away from the window and turns his helmet towards you, and despite only being met by the dark visor of his helmet you just know that his eyes under it are locking with yours. The thought of that always sends a little shiver through you. You know that you shouldn't think about it. Maybe it is wrong, an insult to his creed, but you can’t help but fantasise about the man he must be underneath all the beskar. He is handsome, that is for sure. It doesn’t even matter in what way, it is deeper than that. He is a handsome person no matter what he actually looks like under the helmet and armour. You have seen some of him in glimpse. A bare hand as he removes a glove to get a better grip on as he fixes a clasp on a crate, or the time he had gotten hit in the spot between two pieces of armour and you had helped him getting it bandaged. His face is still a mystery to you. It is a little weird not to know what he looks like, especially considering that you have fallen in love with him.

You had not meant to fall in love with the Mandalorian. You had tried to fight it, but it was a fight you had no chance of winning. You know that you are being silly, but you sometimes get the idea that he might feel something for you too. It also doesn’t help that you have ended up loving Grogu as much as you do. You don’t think you could love him more if he had been your own. It is kind of scary, the thought of the day din decides he doesn’t need you anymore. That your feelings for Din never will be reciprocated hurts, but you will be able to get over it with time, but the day you will have to get separated from Grogu… Oh, that day is going to kill you.

“No, mesh’la nothings wrong.” Din shakes his head, he isn’t looking at you anymore, back to looking out at the night. “I was just lost in my own thoughts.”

“Oh, okay...”

You sit in silence for a little while, you don’t know if you should go and let him be alone with his thoughts or if you should break the silence. You are just about to open your mouth to say something, what you don’t even know, but the silence feels too much. Din beats you to it though.

“The kid, he uhm…” His voice is much softer than usual, almost close to a whisper. “He really likes you.”

“Well, I really like him too.” You say, you can’t help the soft smile spreading on your lips.

“I’m glad you do, mesh’la…”

“You know… You keep calling me that, but you have never told me what it means.”

“I guess I haven’t…” His voice is low and a little shaky through the modulator.

You don’t know what it is with him tonight, but something feels different.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your fluttering heart. “Are you gonna tell me?”

He freezes in the chair, sitting more still than usual, if that is even possible. He is almost reminiscent of a statue. The silence builds, and you begin to regret that you asked. The air between you feels charged, but you can’t figure out with what. It feels like whatever his answer is gonna be it is gonna fundamentally change something between you. You are starting to think that he is going to ignore your question when he finally breaks the silence.

“Beautiful.” His voice sounds a little weak, almost like he regrets telling you, but he continues in a more confident tone. “It means beautiful.”

Beautiful… He’s been calling you beautiful all this time? The word always falling so naturally from his lips, soft and earnestly.

The rapid beats of your heart against the restraints of your ribcage thumbs loudly in your ears. You can’t believe what he just said. He is finally looking back at you again, but any signs of what he is feeling are hidden behind the dark reflection of the visor.

“You call me beautiful?”

“Yeah, I do… Trust me, if anything or anyone has ever deserved to be called that, it is you.”

You can not believe that this is really happening, is there really a chance that he might feel the same as you?

“I don’t know what to say.” You say, the hope that has bloomed in your chest is scaring you.

“You don’t have to say anything. I actually would prefer it if you don’t… I’m sorry if I have made you uncomfortable.” He stands up from the chair, turning his back to you.

“Din please don’t go…” You grab his wrist before he can get to the ladder and disappear down the hull. “Din, I need you to tell me how you feel, please… I need to know.”

“Dank farrik.” He curses under his breath and turns around to face you again. “I don’t know how to do this…” He shuffles anxiously from one foot to another.

It is always so surprising to see Din like this, the usual confident and stoic bounty hunter all anxious and nervous, but you have seen it a few times before. He might be a tough and hardy bounty hunter, but put the man in a social setting and he can get nervous. But this is a whole new level.

“Grogu he…” He pauses, the sound of his breath sounds shaky through the modulator of his helmet. “He means the world to me. I love him, he… he is mine. I never thought that I would have that, my life was never set on that path, I didn’t think I was ever meant to be anyone’s buir, but… now I can’t imagine my life without him in it. It was hard for me to accept that I wanted someone around, but I couldn’t deny it any longer.”

His words come out with so much emotion, you have never heard him like this before. You know that he loves his son, he shows that every day, but hearing him say it like this… The rawness, the emotions. Your vision starts to turn blurry as the tears start to build in the corner of your eyes. You want to be a part of that love so bad.

“What I’m trying to say is…” He takes a shaky breath through the modulator, his shoulders are tense under the shoulder plates of his armour and his gloved hands are curled into tight anxious fists. “Now I can’t imagine my life without you in it either.”

“Oh…” Your lips part, you are founding yourself dumbfounded. Is this really happening?

“I want you to be a part of my life, both our lives…” He is actually shaking as he tells you this. “I don’t want to just be a clan of two anymore… I want you mesh’la.”

You suddenly understand. The way you will sometimes worry that he is avoiding you, or how you sometimes feel like your presence is making him uncomfortable. It makes sense now, you rise from the chair and close the distance between the two of you. You search for the eyes under the helmet, even though you can’t see them you want him to know that you are looking at him - the man and not the Mandalorian. You realise how hard this must be for him, he has been hidden away for all of his adult life, physically, but emotionally too. You reach out for him, placing your palms on the sides of his helmet.

“Din…” You start out, it is probably just something you imagine, but it is like you can feel the heat of his skin through the beskar on your hands. “You already got me. I’m already yours.”

“Really?” It is Din’s turn to sound like he doesn’t believe what he is hearing.

“Yes, Din.” You can feel the tears sliding down your cheeks now, and you can’t keep the grin off your face as you nod up at him. “I’m yours, okay. Yours and Grogu’s.”

“And we are yours... Kriff, mesh’la I’m all yours.” He gasps through the modulator. He rests his forehead against yours, the coolness of the beskar is feeling nice against your warm skin. You stand like this for a moment, simply enjoying the intimacy of the closeness, your hands cradling his helmet and his resting on your hips. The silence stretches until Din finally breaks it.

“I want to kiss you so badly.” He confesses.

“I know.” You say, but you know that he can’t and that is okay. You have accepted that things with him are going to be different than it would have been with others, so the shock you’re feeling when a loud hiss is echoing off the durasteel walls is big. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut without even thinking about it. Your hands land over your closed eyes, like an extra protection to make sure you don’t see him.

“What are you doing?!” You shriek as you hear the loud thud of beskar landing on the metal floor. Din has removed his helmet! He didn’t even give you a warning so you could close your eyes before, you had been quick so you haven't really seen him just gotten a quick blurry peek.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la.” His voice is so low and soft, it is so close to a whisper, you almost miss it. His fingers brush against your hands to make you remove them from your eyes. His bare hands, you notice, and the skin on skin contact makes a hot shiver run down your spine. “Please.” He adds.

You can’t believe this. First you learn that he has been calling you beautiful for months, then he tells you that he wants you to stay with him and Grogu and now… Now Din is helmetless in front of you and he wants you to see him?

“Are you sure?” You stutter.

“Yes, mesh’la.” This time he speaks with his whole chest, like he has never been more sure about anything in his life. The sound of his voice without the modulator of his helmet hits your ears and you feel like you might cry. It’s deep and rich, reminding you of the sonorous melodies played on a f'nonc horn.

You inhale a shaky breath before removing your hands from your eyes and slowly blinking them open. And there he is. Din Djarin, your Din Djarin, staring back at you. You let out a little gasp as you take in the sight of him. You can’t believe that this is what he has been hiding all this time. You knew you would like the way he looked, because it would be him, but the reality is still exceeding all expectations you had. Din Djarin is gorgeous. The brown hair, that curls up at the ends, matches the colour of the irises of the prettiest most soulful eyes you have ever seen. His strong jaw is covered with a short, slightly patchy, beard that frames his face nicely. A moustache is framing his mouth. A mouth with the most kissable lips you have ever seen.

Another long silence breaks out between you, both of you are shocked by the situation.

“Hi…” He finally says and it is all that you need to break out of your haze.

“Hi.” You smile at him, maybe the brightest smile of your life.

You reach out for him, you need him closer.

“Do I disappoint?” He asks, but he is smiling too now.

“Hell no.” You shake your head with a laugh, the thought of this face disappointing anyone is an absurd idea.

“You’re beautiful.” You whisper, your hands find his hair, wrapping your fingers in his soft locks. He leans his forehead down to rest against yours again. It had felt good before, but this - his skin against yours, oh that is heaven. The two of you stay like this for a while, enjoying the affinity between you.

“What about that kiss?” You finally say and it is all he needs to hear. His lips crash onto yours. It is like a switch has been turned, the softness from before replaced with an intense hunger. The kiss is heated and needy, like he is desperate to taste you, wanting to map out every corner of your mouth. His hands are on your hips, a tight grip as he pushes you closer against him.

You gasp into his mouth as you feel the solid curve of his bulge press against your pelvis. It is sending a warm shiver through you that settles in your lower stomach. You press yourself into him, slightly grinding your hips against his clothed cock which pulls a low groan out of him. His broad hands squeezes your hips, guiding your rhythm as you rock against him.

“Do you really want this?” You ask him

“More than anything.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Do you?”

“Yes!” You nod wildly. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone as badly as I want you.”

Your confession makes him let out a deep groan from deep within his throat, it makes a new shiver run through you. His fingers find the hem of your pants which he starts to slide down your legs. You take over, kicking the garment of your legs as you push him towards the pilot’s chair.

“Sit.” You command. You don’t know what it is, you are usually not the commanding type, but you are feeling wild tonight, drunk off of Din’s lips.

Something flickers in Din’s eyes at your sudden bossy tone. “Yes, ma’am.” He mutters as he sits back in the seat, his strong thighs spread out and a cocky smile on his lips. Fuck, he is going to be the death of you aren’t he?

You take a second to enjoy the view, before walking over to him, stepping between his thighs. Your hand lands in his hair as you look down at him through hooded eyes.

“Come here, mesh’la.” He whispers as he reach out for you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer. You lift your leg over him, straddling his broad lap.

He groans at the pressure, as you start to rock your clothed cunt against his muscular thigh. You suspect that he can feel the warmth of your dampness through the fabric. Din adjusts his hold on your waist, helping you set a rhythm as he begins to move your hips. He is moving you slowly at first, but the eager sounds you’re letting out is quickly making him pick up the pace. You purr out his name as you feel his thigh flex under you.

“Kriff… Doing so good for me, mesh’la.” Din curses under his breath. “Looking so pretty.”

“Mmm..” You hum out, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you keep grinding against him until you can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck, Din, I...” You whine, feeling the fabric of your panties getting gradually more and more damp against him.

“I need you, Din” You remove your head from his neck so you can look deeply into his eyes. His brown eyes are burning you, his hands coming to a still.

“Okay, yeah…” He nods at you, his pupils are blown wide and a flush is covering his cheeks. “Ne-need you too, mesh’la.”

His eyes are still locked with yours as he moves you, making you lift yourself up from him so he can start on removing some of his armour plates. You use the time to get rid of your tunic, leaving you in only your bra and panties. He ends up removing most of his armour, leaving him warm and soft for you.

He pulls you down on him again, connecting your lips once more as his hand dives down to your panties, sliding his fingers under the hem and finding your clit which he begins to stroke with slow, firm circles after coating his digits with your wetness, making you moan into the kiss.

“Fuck, mesh’la, you’re so wet. All soaked, just for me. My sweet, sweet girl.” He whisper against your mouth.

He keeps circling your clit with one hand, setting a faster pace as his other hand finds your breast, squeezing it gently through your bra, making you let out another desperate moan. Your hands find the clasp at your back, fingers fumbling slightly from eagerness as you open the latch before zealously removing the item from your body. Din lets out a pleased groan as your exposed breasts appear. His free hand, that isn’t occupying your clit, eagerly kneads the soft plumpness of one of your tits before taking its nipple between his fingers and gently twisting it.

“Oh, fuck… Fuck, Din, I…” You whine out, feeling your orgasm approach. You don’t think you have ever felt it come this early before, but he has you so riled up.

“I know baby, I know.” He encourages. “You can mesh’la, you can come for me.”

It is all you need to hear, the last string that holds you together gets cut and the warm euphoric waves of pleasure wash over you. His name is falling from your lips over and over again as you ride out your orgasm.

“Did that feel good?” He asks you with a kiss to the top of your head when you’ve finally come back down from your high and now has relaxed into him.

“So good.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He says and you can hear the smile in his voice without even looking at him.

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You say letting your fingers find his cheek and gently stroke his cheekbone. “Want you inside me.” You feel how his cock twitches underneath you from your confession.

“You sure mesh’la?” He asks, placing his hand under your chin to gently holding your head up as he look deeply you in the eyes for your answer.

“Very.”

“Okay.” He hums, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips, but it very quickly turns heated.

Your hands reach down between you, finding the buttons of his pants which you quickly begin to unbutton. The angle is slightly awkward, but you manage to get the last button undone without breaking the kiss.

Din taps your thigh to make you step back for a second so he can pull down his pants and free his cock. Your eyes widen at the sight. You had gotten the idea that he was big from what you had felt when you grinded against his bulge, but nothing could prepare you for the view that met you. He is big. His cock is throbbing and thick, laying heavy against his stomach, the tip is already dripping with precum and you feel your mouth water by the sight.

You slide your panties to the side as you readjust yourself, and start to slowly sink down on him. You’re really taking your time, both so you can adjust to the imposing size of him, and so you can enjoy the sounds he’s making for you as you slowly take more and more of him, until you finally are taken the entirety of him.

“You are so perfect…” He sights. “Cyar'ika you have no idea…” He adds before he starts on leaving hot kisses up and down your neck.

‘Cyar'ika.’ Another word you don’t know the meaning of, but you are too far gone in your shared pleasure to stop up and ask him the meaning.

The two of you sit like this for a little while, letting you adjust to him, but you soon can’t take it anymore, you need some movement.

You lift yourself a little from the chair before sinking back down on him, making Din choke on a throaty moan. His hands stay on your hips, as you begin to bounce on him in a slow, but steady rhythm, but he occasionally slips them down to your ass, squeezing the soft plum skin with his broad hands. It makes you go wild. You pick up your pace.

“Dear, Maker…” You gasp “Din, you’re feeling so good.”

“You too, mesh’la. So fucking tight.” Din praises, lifting you up with his strong arms and pulls all the way out of you before slamming back into you, filling you up again. “So warm, so perfect.”

His hips now meet yours with every bounce as he thrust up into you, burying himself so deep inside you it has you bite down hard on your lower lip to not scream loudly and wake up Grogu. The sound of Din’s heavy balls slapping up against your wet cunt, as well as the loud creaks of the chair, is echoing from the walls and it is honestly the hottest thing you have ever heard. Your arms have begun to shake as your grip on the armrest of the chair is getting tighter and tighter. You keep bouncing up and down on him as you feel your second climax getting nearer and nearer.

“Oh, kriff… Mesh’la you’re so tight.” He groans through gritted teeth.

“I… I won’t last much longer.” He warns. His thrust falters a little as he gets closer and closer to his release.

“It’s okay, you can come, baby…” You pant out. “Please come for me, Din”

He let out a throaty groan at your encouragement.

“I have an implant.” You add. “Please, I want to feel you inside of me.”

You pull his face up to you, kissing him hard. Your lips connected passionately as you both get pushed over the edge. His fingers dig into your hips as he comes, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer.

You moan out his name, as your walls clench down around his cock. You feel how his dick twitches inside you as he comes undone. The warmth of his release coats your inside, and you dote on the feeling of being filled by him, milking every drop of his release as he keeps pumping into you, fucking his cum deep into you. You feel like the two of you have melted together as you both ride out your climaxes. Tears of pleasure are wetting your eyes. You have wanted him for so long, never thought that you would have him, never thought that he would feel the same as you.

You find his lips again, kissing him as you both ride out your climaxes. He hums content into your mouth and you can feel the smile on his lips. His hands are leaving your waist and he is instead cupping your cheeks, gently holding your face and the rough and heated atmosphere is soon turning soft.

“Are you okay?” He asks while caressing your cheek with light strokes of his finger pads.

“Yes.” You assure him with a small smile. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. He has the prettiest smile in the galaxy you decide. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, mesh’la.”

You don’t know the meaning of his words, but they fall from his lips with such warmth and care that you it has your heart flutter with warmth in your chest.

“What does that mean?” Your voice is nothing but a whisper.

“I will know you forever.”

“That is beautiful.”

“It’s…” He looks into your eyes, the deep mahogany of his irises make your heart clench. You can’t believe that these are the eyes that has been looking at you from under the helmet all this time. “It’s how we tell people we love them.”

“It is…?”

“Yes.” He nods. “I love you, mesh’la.”

He loves you… Din Djarin loves you.

“I love you too, Din.” You say before connecting your lips again in a long passionate kiss. “You and Grogu.” You add when you eventually have to pull away for air.

He smiles at you as his eyes are filling with grateful tears. You, Din and Grogu – a little clan of three.

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m00nlight-ramblings · 3 months

Text

Soul Meets Body

After the final battle with the Netherbrain, you and Halsin have found solace in what was once the Shadowlands. Domesticity and nature interweave with your every day life now that you are parents, but for the past few months, something has been missing. Halsin shows you how much he's missed your body.

Pairings: Halsin (dad!) x fem reader (plus sized after giving birth)

Warnings: SMUT, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, body image issues, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 5.2k

Requested: yes

A/N: As a plus sized fan fic writer, I hardly see plus sized stuff, especially for Halsin so I decided to write something! This fic deals HEAVILY with body image issues of a plus sized reader after giving birth, so please read with caution if that is a trigger for you! ALSO: based on notes and patch updates from Larian, the Shadowlands were renamed the Reclaimed Lands, and in original notes for Halsin, his last name was Silverborough! So that's why those details are included. Also also dad Halsin is my fave ok bye.

The sun hung high in the sky midday, casting beautiful shadows through the leaves of the trees. The nearby laughter of children cascaded throughout the village, leaving a permanent smile on your face wherever you went. Your baby Lora, wrapped snug in a sling on your chest, cooed as you weeded the perimeter of the village, tossing the uprooted plants in a basket for Halsin to use later on.

Little feet scampered past you, calling your name in greeting as you knelt in the soft earth. Every time a little voice graced your ears, you perked up - what a life you were now leading, filled with such hope and joy. You felt lucky from the moment you woke up, to the moment you went to bed, for three reasons: the beautiful children that graced the Reclaimed Lands, which was once the Shadowlands, your beautiful daughter Lora, and of course, Halsin.

Your life had taken on new meaning once the final battle against the Netherbrain was won. Throughout your journey, you thought that the one thing you wanted more than anything was to return to your old life - to go home to the familiarity of Baldur's Gate. But when you had met Halsin - and subsequently fell in love with him - everything had changed, and you found yourself back in the Reclaimed Lands with the Alderman himself, becoming the unofficial parents of more children you had ever expected to have.

Of course, some adults came to the Reclaimed Lands to start anew as well - people pushed out by the curse returning home, or some wanting a fresh start. The little village you now claimed as your own was growing by the week, and nothing filled your heart more than knowing the love you and Halsin had put into cultivating the safe space.

A mere two months after you had gone home to the Reclaimed Lands, you discovered you were with child, baring the tiny bulge of Halsin's baby. It was no surprise to either of you - the elf who wanted to do things "as nature intended" acted on those natural instincts as often as they found him, and the idea of starting a family together was something both you and him couldn't get out of your head.

Once you had become pregnant, Halsin was unsurprisingly the perfect partner. Caring and attentive, you never needed nor wanted for anything. As if he could read your mind, before you could even ask, Halsin would appear with whatever you seemed to crave. Whether it be the particular berries near the river you seemed to want at night, a massage under his giant hands, or even a shoulder to cry on whenever your ankles swelled or back ached, Halsin was there to provide for you.

Your lovemaking never ceased while pregnant, either - in fact, your sex life with Halsin seemed to do nothing but increase. Often times, you caught Halsin staring at you while you absentmindedly cleaned up after dinner, or played with the children during the afternoon - his eyes falling to your growing belly. At night, while you sat on top of him, legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusted into you, he sucked and nibbled on your swollen breasts, his hands gently caressing your belly and large behind.

"How beautiful you are," He would breathe into your ear, your bodies slick with sweat, "Creating this beautiful life inside of you. You are ethereal...I am in awe. I am not worthy of your beauty." He'd cup your cheek and suck on your bottom lip as you quietly cried his name, tears overflowing from your eyes from both pleasure and love.

When Halsin was feeling more territorial, taking you from behind, but still being more gentle than usual, he would lay his chest flat on your back so he could be as deep as his cock would allow. "Knowing that everyone can look at you and see that I did this," He would grunt, his thrusts strong and pleading, "Knowing I filled you with my seed. That I love you so often and so well that the future is growing inside of you. I need it. I crave it," His would say through gritted teeth, "Everyone knows you're mine. And I am yours. Forever."

Once Loradove was born, your sexual appetite had basically ceased. Nights that were once full of screaming and thrusting and panting were now full of changing diapers, aiding cries, and soft lullabies. Halsin, of course, was the most doting father - taking Lora without asking so you could rest, playing with her so you could do some chores, or even doing the chores himself. He was the perfect father - you knew his urges to have you were increasing tenfold as every month passed that you didn't make love. But you also knew he would never complain...thinking only of his sexual urges made him feel selfish, you knew, and he would never want to act selfishly towards you.

It had been five months since Halsin last touched you in that way. Truth be told, it wasn't just that you were too busy with the village and children and your own daughter to have sex. You also couldn't bare to look in the mirror at your newfound "mother" body. A body that, once, when fighting goblins and monsters alongside Halsin and saving Faerun, was taut with muscles and curves. Now, your belly was soft and expanded, the defined muscles you once had nowhere to be found. Stretch marks decorated you stomach and thighs, and you needed a completely new wardrobe. You dreamed of being the type of mother you had known throughout your years - weeks after giving birth somehow going back to what they once were - small and desirable.

You only felt ugly. Looking at Halsin's body, rock solid and sexy, there was absolutely no way - in your mind - he could have found your softness alluring, especially when he had met the smaller, more attractive version of you. The idea of being fully naked in front of him used to send shivers down your spin and make your heart race, but now, it was enough to make you cry.

A child's playful laugh snapped you out of your day dream, your hand limply holding on to a bundle of mugwort that you had pulled a few minutes prior. Shaking your head, you placed it in the basket near your feet, watching Halsin appear into the village around the bend. A few children had run over to him, immediately hanging on his large limbs like he was a tree branch. He smiled and lifted them in the air, sending them flying before he caught them, gently kissing their temples and placing them on the ground.

As his usual way, he scanned the village, his eyes softening when they found you. You stopped weeding and stood, your smile matching his. A few moments later he was by your side, the children trailing behind him. He bent his head to give you a soft kiss - one that still gave you butterflies.

"My heart," He spoke gently, his hand immediately finding your waist. You winced inwardly as he gripped the soft rolls of your side. He slowly pushed back the cloth wrapping that hid Lora's face, and when her eyes met his, she instantly cooed. The smile Halsin reserved for her appeared on his face, and he gently pulled her from the cloth, holding her close. "My little one. How beautiful you are! Were you helping your mother today?" He eyed you, his eyes glittering. You chuckled.

"Quite so. If she wasn't swaddled, I'm sure she'd be reaching for the belladonna to try and have an afternoon snack," You sighed, smiling and wiping your brow, "She's lucky she's so cute."

"Cute?" Halsin asked, his eyebrows raising, "She's magnificent. Breathtaking. She is perfect...cute is nowhere near the word to describe Loradove Silverbough." Suddenly, Lora screeched, causing Halsin to furrow his brows immediately.

Laughing, you gently placed your hand on his bicep, "I think she also is tired."

He chuckled, pressing a small kiss on her cheek, "I will put her down for her nap. Go, do whatever your heart desires, my love. I will see to it that you have the afternoon for yourself. Daddy's got it from here." He winked, causing you to blush.

How the word "daddy" had changed in your lexicon in 9 months.

A few minutes later, you found yourself at the nearby creek on the outskirts of the village, your sweater off and laid beside you in the afternoon heat. Your feet dangled in the cool water, the laughter of the children still around you as you dozed in and out of a nap in the sunlight. Moments like this one were not rare - with Halsin, it truly was a partnership, splitting responsibilities 50/50.

When you opened your eyes again, the sun was setting, a sure sign of heading home. It was almost dinner time, you knew, which meant that you had spent at least a few hours dozing off by the creek. Your feet, wrinkled from being submerged for so long, felt chilly as you took them out of the water. Holding your shoes in your hands, you made the short walk home, passing by the children being herded inside by the adults.

As you opened the front door to your cottage, a whiff of food hit your nostrils, sending your stomach growling - some sort of roast was being prepared, with the sounds of banging pots and giggling coming from the kitchen.

"My heart!" Halsin cried, "Is that you?"

"Yes, I'm home, Halsin." You shouted back, dropping your shoes by the door.

"Lora! Mama's home!" You heard Halsin proclaim, to which Lora responded with a delightful squeal. You smiled, wiping the immediate happy tears from your eyes.

Lucky, lucky, lucky.

As you rounded your way to the kitchen, you found Halsin plating up dinner, Lora in her little feeding chair, bits of mushed food all over her face. She immediately reached for you when she saw you, so you scooped her up, grabbing a towel from a nearby table and wiping her face gently.

"My precious angel, you eat like such a little whirlwind." You murmured, kissing her eyelashes. She cooed and grabbed at your hair as felt Halsin's hand on your shoulder. Turning towards him, he smiled and leaned down to kiss your cheek, then slowly moved to your earlobe.

"My love," He breathed, his voice low. A shiver went down your spine as you leaned into his body. Your eyelids fluttered shut, the familiar feeling of comfort warming your body. He sighed contently and ushered you towards the chair nearest you, "Sit, my heart. Dinner is ready."

You sat, opening your eyes again and smiling. He placed the plate in front of you, and was about to take Lora from your hands but you shook your head, holding her closer.

"I missed her."

Halsin chuckled and sat across from you, "Of course. If she gets too rowdy while you try to eat, I'll put her back in her chair." He made a face at Lora, who made the same one back - their version of a secret handshake.

Idly chatting about your days, you ate dinner slowly, savoring the moments with the two of them. Soon Lora was starting to fuss, alerting the two of you to her nearing bedtime.

You bathed and dressed her, putting her down in her crib while Halsin washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Walking into your bedroom, he was discarding his clothes for the night, slipping into the bed the two of you shared. As you walked in, he smiled.

“Did she go down easy?” He asked. You nodded.

“For the most part. Some tears when she realized that it was bedtime, but she was so exhausted that she went down almost as soon as her back hit the bed.” You took a sleep dress from your closet, putting it over your day clothes. Underneath the dress, you slipped the straps of your shirt off, and then your pants; the way you had gotten changed every night since Lora was young. Halsin said nothing of the intricate dressing, but you knew he watched you every night, probably wondering why his love wouldn’t stand naked in front of him. You turned and he smiled softly, patting the bed next to him.

As you laid next to him he tucked the blankets to your collarbone, kissing your forehead. “Early night? I have quite the day ahead of me tomorrow.” You yawned and nodded, nuzzling into him.

“Yes. I, myself am also exhausted.”

Halsin blew out the lamp and wrapped one of his strong arms around you, falling asleep almost instantly. You closed your eyes as well, but sleep came harder for you - the nap you took earlier in the day apparently robbing you of sleep this evening.

After an hour of tossing and turning, Halsin’s voice spoke in the dark room. “My love…are you alright? Your stirring woke me.”

You huffed as you moved on your side, throwing your arms at your side in the blankets, “I’m sorry, Halsin. I’m having a hard time falling asleep.”

Halsin was silent for a moment, but you felt him move closer to you, as he had drifted a bit during sleep, an arm wrapping around your waist. He started to pepper kisses on your neck, his breath hot in your ear. Eventually, his hand lightly palmed at your breast, your nipple gently pinched in between his fingers.

“Well…if you can’t sleep…maybe we can make use to the extra time given to us.” He whispered in your ear, rolling your nipple in his hand. Your heart fluttered, but you felt your stomach drop. Gently pushing him away, you turned to him.

“Halsin…” You started, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the first time Halsin had tried to have sex with you since Lora was born, but every time he had tried previously, your excuses of being tired seemed more plausible. Now that it was five months, you weren’t quite sure what to say.

The hand that palmed your breast found its way to your cheek. “Please, my heart. Talk to me. I don’t want to pry, especially after you have given me the gift of our beautiful daughter…but why won’t you let me make love to you?”

In the darkness, you felt like you could cry. How could you explain to this man - this sweet, caring man - how you felt so uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping together? How you were afraid to show him what your body had become…how you were afraid that, if he saw you, he wouldn’t think of you the same?

It wasn't as if you didn't want to have sex with him - your heart stirred often when you saw him. There were so many nights where you just wanted to reach out to him - to bury his head in between your legs, or take his member in your mouth. Often you were so pent up with sexual frustration that when Halsin left the cottage, and Lora was down for a nap, you had to pleasure yourself in order to find some sort of release.

As his thumb stroked your cheek with such care, you knew it wasn’t fair to him to leave him in the dark like that. To leave him wondering if he had done something wrong, no matter how embarrassing your reasonings seemed.

You swallowed your nerves, placing your hand on his. “My body…” You started, your voice low. You could already feel the tremble in your voice as you held back tears, uncomfortable with your admission of these feelings, “My body is not the same as it was when we first met. When we…first fell in love.”

“Of course it isn’t,” He spoke plainly, “You have given birth, given Lora the gift of life. It is as nature has intended it - change is inevitable, and your body is meant to change when you grow full as one does when pregnant, my love.”

“No, that’s - that’s not what I meant,” You sighed, trying again. “What I mean is…my body is not…as nice as it was when we met. As…beautiful. As…sexy. I’m afraid you’ll look at it and be…disappointed. Dissatisfied.” Though you couldn’t really see him, you cast your eyes down to your sleep shirt, unable to look in the direction of his eyes.

A large span of silence passed. Slowly, he lowered the hand cradling your cheek. Heat rose in your body, flushing your cheeks.

"How...could you say something like that?" Halsin eventually asked, "Your body is beautiful, no matter what it looks like. You think a little softness will deter my yearning for you?"

"It's not just 'softness', Halsin," You said, the tears spilling from your cheeks, "It's...rolls. It's stretchmarks. Dimples and expanded skin where there was none before."

Suddenly, the oil lamp on the bedside table was lit. Halsin stared down on you, his brows furrowed in sadness. He took your face in his hands, kissing away the tears that had spilled.

"Oh, my love," He sighed in between kisses, "If only you could peek inside my heart...inside my brain. So you knew that my words match how I really feel, that I am not exaggerating," Pulling away, he smiled softly and looked into your eyes, "Your body. Is beautiful. It is a beautiful work of nature - of art. Your size does not dictate how badly I want to be inside of you. Your soul does. I love your body in every way it comes...would you stop stirring for me if I had added rolls and marks? If I had dimples on my thighs, or added skin on my belly?"

You smiled at his tenderness, which you always somehow knew he would respond with. "Of course not."

"So please know that when I mean my body stirs for you, I mean it. I would never want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, but know that I have fantasized about ravaging you ever since the cleric gave us permission to make love after Loradove's birth. If you'll have me...please let me show how much I yearn for you."

You bit your lip, looking at him. He was completely nude - as he slept every night - and was on top of you. The very sight of him was causing an ache in your core, and you pressed your thighs together. Slowly, you leaned your head forward, pressing your lips to his.

At first, it was gentle, but as you felt his body press into yours, you very quickly found yourself get carried away, your tongue pressing into his mouth. Very gladly he opened his mouth, his tongue dancing with yours. He immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, and as you felt his erection press into you, you moaned. Nervously, you reached down to the hem of your sleep dress, but desperate to feel Halsin's skin on yours (and to get it over with), you grabbed the dress and pulled it over your head, discarding it on the floor.

There.

It was over with.

The one thing you had been so anxious over - finally being naked with Halsin again - had finally happened. You had discarded your clothes in front of him, being fully naked with him for the first time since you had given birth. Holding your breath - wracked with nerves - you watched his eyes take your body in. He didn't speak for several moments as his eyes moved from your head, all the way to your feet multiple times. He moved one of his hands from behind your back, to slowly tracing lines down your body, sending shivers up your spine. Dipping his head to your body, he started to slowly kiss you, gently planting kisses on your stomach, on your thighs, paying extra attention to the stretchmarks that covered your lower half.

Finally, he looked into your eyes, and you realized they were glassy with tears. He shook his head slowly and he enveloped your lips in a kiss that was so passionate, it knocked the wind out of you. When he pulled away, he cupped your cheeks once more.

"For you to think that you are anything other than beautiful is a thought I never want you to have again," He spoke, his voice low, "I covet every mark, every dimple, every soft roll on your body. Regardless if you gave life or not...your body is a beautiful work of nature, and if I need to make love to you every night in order for you to see it, I will gladly sacrifice." He smiled lightly, kissing you again. Shivers ran up your spine as he lowered his fingers to tease your clit, his fingers weaving in between your folds. Once he felt how wet you were, he moaned into the kiss, "Silvanus help me, you're going to make me finish before I even start."

His touch sent shockwaves through your system - five months of your pent up sexual desires for Halsin were starting to unravel, causing you to careen to your orgasm faster than you ever have in your life. As Halsin rubbed circles on your aching clit, you whimpered, your arms finding their way around his neck. He held you close as he brought you to him, leaning you forward so you were mere inches from his face.

"My gorgeous, gorgeous, girl," He whispered, kissing your temple. The combination of his increasingly deep movements on your clit, and the tender whispered nothings in your ear was leaving you overstimulated.

"Halsin...I'm already close." You whined, gently biting down on his shoulder. He chuckled and growled at the bite, taking his fingers off of your clit and inserting two of them inside your cunt.

"Already? My heart...I'm afraid I will be sending you over the edge many times tonight if that's how long you are going to last." As he pumped into your pussy, you threw your head back, pressing your back into the bed. Quickly, he slid down your body, gently kissing you along the way. He never stopped pumping his fingers, but as soon as his head reached your core, he pressed your legs open with his nose to suck on your clit, taking it in his mouth in its entirety. He moaned loudly, his tongue lapping over your entire pussy, the wet sounds emanating from the two you absolutely sinful.

Arching your back, your vision started to fuzz as you squeezed your eyes shut. As you looked down at Halsin, he seemed absolutely enthralled by you, his face reminiscent of the eating a delicious meal. His fingers curled upwards as he continued to switch between sucking on your clit, to lapping at your folds with his large, flat tongue.

"Gods, I'm going to come!" You whined, gripping his hair as he sucked. He didn't deviate from his movements, completely focused on making you feel his ecstasy. As you bucked your hips into his face, your orgasm crashed around you, Halsin inserting one more finger to pump into you to send you over the edge.

You screamed his name, so loudly you felt like you were going to blackout. Halsin continued on for several moments before he pulled away slowly, taking in the sight of you writhing underneath him. His chest was heaving as he gripped your thighs, his eyes dancing as he took you in. When you finally calmed down enough, you opened your eyes, looking into his.

Immediately, you burst into tears.

"I was so scared to do that." You confessed, your tears spilling over. You laughed, embarrassed, as Halsin leaned forward to kiss you.

"Never," He said, his tongue sliding on your lower lip, "Never be scared with me. Never again."

Resting your hands on his solid chest, you felt your desire focus, watching Halsin stroke his cock above you. You moaned at the sight of him - large, and beautiful, and fucking perfect.

You would never go this long without him again.

"Halsin, if I don't have you inside of me soon, I think I'm going to go crazy." You said, reaching down to help him with his strokes. His mouth fell open and he lolled his head back, murmuring your name. He took your hand from his erect penis to his mouth, kissing it gently before he lined himself up with you.

"Anything you desire, my heart." He said, before taking your hands and pinning them above your head. He held your wrists with one hand as he slowly slid inside of you, never breaking eye contact. The further he slid in, the more you two moaned, brows furrowed. Once he bottomed out, he growled. "Hells - I do not think I'll be lasting too long, either."

You laughed and he chuckled, winking at you before he began to thrust. Slow and deliberate, he grunted with his movements, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

You couldn't help but moan - there was no trying to stay quiet anymore. The past few months of not having Halsin had made you so pent up, that any touch from him seemed to cause your core to stir.

Picking up his pace, the headboard creaked. Halsin palmed at one of your tits, dipping his head to suck on your nipple. You arched your back so he could take you deeper in his mouth, and soon, he started to suck on the skin around your nipple. Heat rushed to your head as waves of pleasure continued to spread throughout your body.

As the two of you fucked, you were sloppy, messy. Noise and juices and movements shared between the two of you with no regard, with no holding back. Both of you were desperate for each other's touch, your whole body felt like it was on fire.

Eventually, as Halsin thrusted into you, he spread your legs with his other hand, abandoning your wrists above your head. After he spread your legs, he pressed one of his large fingers to your clit, circling it slowly.

"You, are so beautiful," He spoke, every word accentuated with a thrust, "The most beautiful creature nature has ever created. The most beautiful creature I have ever seen."

"Gods, Halsin - you make me feel so good. You fuck me so good." Your whimpers were bordering on incoherent as he fucked you, but it didn't matter. You were safe - you were fucking the love of your life, and Hells did it feel good.

"That's it," He spoke, moving your legs so you were on your side. He stopped thrusting for a moment to adjust you, closing your legs on his cock so he could thrust deeper, "That's it, my beautiful goddess," He be began to thrust again, and palmed at your tits, "I love this body. You are so beautiful. I love you."

"I love you too," You moaned, your back arching, gripping the sheets underneath you, "Daddy, I love you."

Halsin's eyes were set ablaze at your words. Your use of Daddy before Lora was around during sex, but you had a feeling that it took on a whole new meaning while you fucked him. He smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow. You could tell by his thrusts that he was nearing his edge, which was soon for Halsin.

It seemed the five months had the same affect on him, too.

"Daddy's fucking you good?" He groaned, grabbing a fistful of your ass. He squeezed hard before winding his hand back, giving you a tight slap on one of your cheeks, "You like it when Daddy fucks you like this?"

"Yes!" You screamed, grabbing hold of his forearm, "Gods, you make me feel so good!"

His grip on your ass tightened as he started to switch between his thrusts - slow and measured, and rough, pounding into you so hard his cock coming in contact with your cunt made a loud SMACK noise with every movement. Your walls clenched around him as he roughly gripped your hips, his hair becoming wet with sweat. Every time you clenched around his cock he growled, a noise that reminded you of an animal - feral, full of wanting.

"You're going to make me come," He said, his chest heaving. The sound of his cock and balls slapping against your wet core filled the room at an increased pace, and he didn't stop. "I'm going to fill you, my heart."

"Fill me," You commanded, looking into his eyes. Halsin groaned and leaned forward, his forehead touching yours. With three more thrusts, he growled and released, filling you with his orgasm. A silent scream came from his lips, followed by him murmuring your name over and over again. He bucked his hips a few more times to drain himself in you before he slowly slid out, immediately cradling you in his arms.

Both of you were panting, sweating, but you didn't care. You were holding on to each other for dear life, thankful for how the night turned out.

Halsin kissed every inch of you from your chest up, cupping your face with the utmost care. Pulling away, he looked at you.

"You put the stars in the sky, my heart," He spoke, gently kissing you. "The moon...the sun...they pale in comparison to your beauty," Gently running his hands over your body, he titled his head, "How do you feel?"

Still catching your breath, you smiled at him, "Incredible. Beautiful." You answered, honestly.

Halsin's face lit up and he pressed a kiss to you again. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and soon, his body was pressing against yours again, his pent up desire found his movements.

"If you give me just a bit of time, I would love to make you feel beautiful again." He spoke, sending shivers up your spine. Brushing a piece of hair out of your face, you were about to reply.

Suddenly, Lora cried from her room. Both of you stopped in your tracks, and when you realized she wasn't going to stop, you bot started to laugh. You went to get up from bed, but Halsin gently pushed you down, springing up himself.

"Rest, my love. I have her," He started to walk out of the room, but turned back quickly, "When I come back into this room, you better not have put your clothes back on."

You giggled and titled your head, feeling seductive for the first time in Gods knows how long, "Mr. Halsin, if you don't watch yourself, you're going to have put yet another baby in me."

Halsin's eyes darkened, and you knew you hit his desires on the head. His cock twitched and he coughed, trying to control himself. "Who says that's not the plan?" He asked, before slipping into Lora's room.

You laid back down on the bed, your breathing returning to normal. From the other room, you heard Halsin speaking softly to your daughter, singing her a lullaby to get her to go back to sleep. Pulling the covers over your body, you relished in the feeling of the blankets on your naked skin. Sighing happily, you moved your legs around in the bed, the sensation spreading warmth throughout your body.

How lucky you were.

---

If you liked this one, don't forget to leave a comment - it’s so so appreciated ❤️ Thank you all for reading!

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #halsin x reader #bg3 halsin #halsin #halsin headcanons #halsin au #halsin smut #halsin x you #halsin x tav #halsin fluff #dad halsin #halsin fan fic #halsin fan fiction #halsin fanfic

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koiiiiijiii · 4 months

Note

Heyyy, What if reader is in the hummingbird crew and is in a secret relationship with joker

Can u make some Sfw and nsfw headcanon

sorry, i decided to do only sfw part because i didn’t really came up with the idea how to add nsfw part here ://

hope you’ll enjoy!!

warnings ; only my not proofed english erorrs.

joker saw you on league of streets before, for sure. he knew that you were from hummingbird crew and the fact that sangho choi had a request to sabbath to deal somehow with your crew.

he never liked that idea tho, in the first place because hummingbird had you and shelly, and joker could never compete with girls, it seemed unfair and unnatural for him.

but when he saw you leaving the changing room right after incident with missing drug from that guy in red glasses, and you clearly heard their conversation, wooin immediately bellowed to catch you and joker grabbed you by wrist and pulled your hand on the level of his eyes. that red glasses pice of shit immediately screamed that it was your team that stole "something" from him. your hart, in turn, has already sunk into your heels, and soul has left your body, a bunch of suspicious-looking guys were ready to tear you apart because of someones lost thing, while you and your team just tried to win cycling competition. joker didn’t immediately realize with what force he was squeezing your wrist, and when he looked from wooin to you, he felt as if his heart was pinched. he, being a huge guy, squeezed your hand so hard that there would definitely be a bruise... "a girl's hand.. so small" - he thought to himself and relaxed his grip on you. joker didn’t like to mess with girls. especially with someone nice like you. he clearly catched himself on the idea that he doesn’t like your scared face turned to him. one your still free hand started to pounding on his elbow and forearm demanding to let you go.

when wooin learned that that guy had no proofs that it was you or your team he was furious, and joker just knew that this guy is no longer safe. he actually didn’t care. the only fact that he cared, when he made sure everyone had left the room and discovered that he was right, there was indeed a bruise on your wrist. he was ashamed, really ashamed, to offend a girl who, in addition, had done nothing wrong.

you were sitting on the floor, leaning on the boxes, when you saw that white haired guy squatted down in front of you and held out his hand. "what does this thug need??" - your thoughts were spinning in your head, and you felt bad that you refused dom’s company to pick up your stuff from changing rooms.

"give me your phone" - you heard his harsh voice. what in the earth he wanted from you?. "hey your friends already learned that i didnt stole anything, now join them and leave." - tears were alredy welling up in your eyes and it was so insulting and unpleasant for you. "im sorry..." he paused and added "i wanted to ask your number. i know one good ointment, it helps with bruises. if you dont mind. just let me know were i could meet you."

on the evening of that day, you met in the park, and he shyly handed you a transparent bag with ointment and bandages.

he muttered an apology under his breath once more and was about to leave when you grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and stopped him.

“give me your phone” - now was your turn to ask.

he freaked out a little but handed you the phone and you typed in your number and made a call, so you had his number too.

you named him as a “nice big guy from snake team”

the next time you receive a call from joker was one week later, and he asked you to help him to patch him up.

you had no idea what happened to him, but you just felt that you need to return a favor and help him.

he said he was waiting for you in the park where you met, sitting on a bench. when you came blood was dripping from his nose, and there were abrasions on his hands and face.

worried, you rushed to the nearest store and bought water to wash the wounds and to apply that ointment that he brought you.

he didn't make a sound when you moistened a piece of screw, washed his wounds and applied ointment, sealed it with plasters, and as soon as you finished, joker thanked you.

you spent about 30 minutes more in each other company and he walked you to your house.

that night you received a “good night” text from him.

after that, your correspondence became more regular, as well as meetings.

and you both agreed not to share that information with your teams. you simply knew that dom will want to fight with joker because of the fact that he hurt you in first place and joker said that it is better not to let wooin know about him hanging out with “rival crew” member.

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#windbreaker #windbreaker webtoon #x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker headcanon #headcanon #webtoon #joker windbreaker x reader #joker x reader #joker windbreaker

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Since I’ve been going pretty hard on dark fics lately….

Who’s up for some childhood friend Simon?

In his worst moments, when he thinks of his inevitable premature and violent end, he hopes that he’ll be able to hold out long enough to die in your arms. Even if they have to fly him straight from the battlegrounds to you, lay him in the grass outside your flat, he wants your face and voice that puts him to his final sleep.

Most moments aren’t his worst moments. But he still thinks of you and prepares. Everything is going to you, of course. Price knows. You’ll get Simon’s tags, his mask, a flag. You’ll get a letter.

He started one night after you two reunited, a little drunk from a thank-fuck-we-survived post mission celebration. It’s a little wobbly and ramble in some places, but never threw it out - never reread it either. Finished it in one hour, three pages long.

He’s added onto it since then. On hard night, nights he misses you. When he’s nostalgic and tipsy, when he wakes up from nightmares soaked in your blood. It’s about 12 pages now. Different colors of ink, different types of pages. Even one slanted and awkward because his writing hand was broken so he had to use the other.

He doesn’t bring it home to you with him. Doesn’t want you to accidentally discover it and think it’s something else. It stays where Johnny will find it if the worst happens; Simon trusts him to give it to you.

He never really thought about it the other way round. Couldn’t stand to face the prospect again. Not when he can feel the bullet scar beneath your shirt sometimes, or sees you rubbing at it in cold weather.

(He doesn’t consider it his worst moments but he knows you would - that he’d crawl in that grave with you.)

But it’s almost happened again. You’re sitting caddy-corner to him at a briefing table, listening to Price as he explains the situation. Simon’s watching you watching Price. Your shoulders are relaxed, fingers fiddling with your temporary access card. Not nervous, just occupied while you focus.

You’re not worried at all. Simon feels like he’s falling apart right here. One shake of the stupid uneven table and all his pieces will just slide apart into a useless pile.

Without looking away, your hand slides across the table and hooks around his. He doesnt startle - he’s ghost right now, and ghost is rock solid - but his fingers twitch around yours. You shoot him a quick smile and then refocus on Price, picking at a worn patch on the skeleton design of Simon’s glove.

Duct tape for a collapsing soul.

Price concludes, “You’ll stay here, safe and sound with an escort.”

Simon speaks up for the first time in what feels like days.

“I’m not bein’ deployed, skipper. Not right now.”

Price snorts. “‘Course not. You’re on leave with little miss here in sweden.”

“Sweden,” Simon repeats, unimpressed. Not one of the Laswell’s better lies.

“Land of tall blondes,” you chime.

“No one else knows I’m a blond.”

You shrug. “Their loss.”

Simon snorts, you grin, and Price dismisses you both in short order.

You’re staying in Simon’s room; the captain didn’t even offer you temporary quarters. Not that you minded, happy to toss your things amongst his and climb into his bed.

He cleans his favorite gun impulsively at the desk while you futz around on his computer - probably investigating the latest set of unreleased movies he bribed from Laswell.

“You get ten minutes of brooding left and then we’re getting food and watching a movie.”

He scowls down at the magazine, oiled cloth in hand.

“I’m not brooding.”

“It’s like you have your own lighting. I swear those shadows are darker next to you.”

“That’s just how light works.”

“Oh it would have been so much cooler if you said, like, ‘I am the shadows’.”

He pauses, casts you a long, flat look. You beam.

“Ooh, yeah, with that face too! C’mon, say it!”

He blows out a dramatic breath, then grumpily repeats, “I am the shadows.”

You laugh, hopping up from the bed to approach. He shifts his gear out of the way, clearing a space for you to lean against his desk, your knee touching his.

“Im alright, Si. There’s nowhere safer I could be.”

He sets the pieces in his hands aside, flexes his fingers spasmodically.

“Could just not know me. Anywhere would be safer than knowing me.”

You click your tongue, purely derisive. “That’s stupid.”

“That’s just facts, babes.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s your guilt complex. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here.”

He arches his eyebrows - not that you’ll be able to see it past the mask. But you know him well enough to just know.

“Right here?” he challenges. “On a military base? With who fuckin’ knows out to get you? Just because you lived two doors down from me in kindergarten?”

You sigh, that one that tells him you’re employing extra patience purely out of love and experience.

“Right here, Si. Wherever you are,” you confirm.

“Should cut your losses,” he says, trying his best impression of the machine he became after he lost everyone but you. He’s never felt less protected in the mask.

As always, you see right through him.

“A bullet couldn’t take me from you, Simon Riley. The ‘Ghost’ doesn’t stand a chance.” You curl your fingers around the back of his neck, duck down until your forehead knocks against the hard mask’s. “Because it’s me n’ you ‘til the sun stops rising.”

An oath made of picked daisies and shared blood. The weight of it presses on his chest so hard he feels buried again. Layers of earth crushing him, you up above, the only heaven he knows or needs.

“Me ‘n you,” he rasps.

You let him stay like that another moment. Absorbing the warmth of your fingertips, crept beneath the edge of the balaclava. Breathing with you until he’s sure you’re synched. Heart, breath, blood, down to the firing of your neurons.

“Alright, no more brooding. You’ll feel better with some food.”

Simon exhales, sloughing off the gloom and pessimism that weighs on Ghost’s shoulders. You’re here, right here. Nothing will happen to you when he’s still breathing.

“Think I have a few more minutes.”

“Nah, it compounds when I brood with you.”

“You brood like a rainbow broods.”

You snort and flick at his mask, tugging him up with you towards the door. He lets himself settle, listening to your cheerful babble all the way to the mess.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #childhood friend simon

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petit-etoile · 8 months

Note

Congrats on the 200 Followers man! Here's my drabble for ya, go nuts on what you wanna write from this; “Kiss me and/or shut up.”

your heart understood mine

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 919 content warnings: ne.il new.bon said something about little astarions once & now i have Thoughts other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils, be added to the taglist here

summary: 'When am I happiest?' / 'When I'm looking at you.'

‘So,’ Astarion says casually, staring at his nails. ‘What do you think the answers truly are?’

‘The answers to what?’ you ask.

‘Don’t play coy,’ he says. ‘The little…love test. I was rather pleased you didn’t expose me in front of a stranger, but now I’m curious.’

You remember Zethino now. You take a moment to glance at him, though your hands are still busy sewing away at a tear in your armor. Astarion is watching you while wearing a guarded half-smile, neither interested in his nails nor in your messy stitches. Your cheeks heat up and you look back down at your uneven handiwork. Your throat tightens a little.

When you had asked him if he had wanted to participate with you, you thought Astarion would reject it. It seemed silly, so out of element for the both of you that the thought of him genuinely agreeing never crossed your mind. Yet now he questions you about it, questions you about your answers, and you feel more nervous now than you had when Zethino called you stira. Astarion takes your armor from you and begins patching it himself, fed up with your clumsy stitches.

‘The heart is fraught, so let us begin with the joyous,’ Astarion recites sarcastically. ‘When is he happiest, my love?’

‘I don’t think you’ve ever been happy,’ you say quietly.

He hums. ‘Well, that’s mostly the correct answer,’ he says. ‘But you’re missing something. I know you can guess it if you really put your mind to it.’

‘You’re happiest with me,’ you say bravely.

You look him deep in his eyes, holding your breath. He laughs and nods, chuckling to himself while he tries to salvage a piece of leather. You think he might be blushing, but it’s hard to tell with how pale he is.

‘Many things delight the heart,’ Astarion continues, mimicking her monotonous timbre. ‘Only one makes it sing! Tell me, my sweet, what does he desire more than anything.’

Revenge. You had told the dryad he wanted revenge, but didn’t go into detail, not in front of someone unfamiliar. You watch as he untangles the thread, his hair soft and elegant, his hands assured and practiced. There lives a colony of butterflies in your chest. Your heart is beating so loud you’re certain he can hear it.

‘A life with me,’ you say.

‘You,’ he agrees.

‘A gaggle of little Astarions trailing around,’ you add.

Astarion looks up sharply, his mouth hanging open slightly. You press your lips together immediately and try to think of an apology but there’s something beneath his careful façade. You were right. You realize it now. You press a hand to your chest as if to stop your heart from pounding. Astarion wants a family, and he wants you, and even beneath that desire for revenge and for strength, once he succeeds then all he wants is you. He looks back down at your clothes in his lap and laughs shyly. You think you might faint.

‘The last, um, question,’ you stutter. You realize your palms are sweaty and blush.

‘Fear sits in the soul of all,’ Astarion says finally, voice soft. ‘To tame it, we must name it. What is his deepest fear?’

This time, you feel as though the answer isn’t so easy. Beneath the fear of Cazador and the fear of the mindflayers, there is something else brewing. You’re afraid to even mention it, but he’s curious and genuine. You slide closer to him and pull part of your armor into your lap so that you share the burden. He presses his nose to your temple and you distract yourself by touching the part of your armor he’s managed to save from your haphazard repairing.

‘You’re afraid of never breaking the cycle,’ you say carefully. You bite your bottom lip. ‘You’re worried that after all this rage, there’s no relief.’

‘Shut up,’ Astarion says.

There is little to no heat in it. You shake your head.

‘You’re afraid the you before Cazador is no longer there,’ you say. ‘And you’re afraid that because I am human, that there’s a ghost of you that comes after me.’

‘Shut up,’ Astarion insists.

‘Kiss me,’ you whisper. You turn to meet his lips.

Astarion presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You cherish it no matter how fleeting the kiss is. The silence, the quiet sorrow. It’s almost worth it for how he gently presses kisses against your temple and into your hair. He will never confess that what you said is true, and you’re almost thankful.

‘My turn,’ you say, clearing your throat. ‘When am I happiest?’

‘When I’m looking at you,’ Astarion says without hesitation.

‘O — Oh.’

‘You desire a lifetime with me,’ he says with a practiced blasé shrug. ‘And little Astarions of course.’

You flush. ‘Shut up.’

‘And,’ he adds, ‘you’re deathly afraid of spiders.’

He laughs and kisses you again, and you wish you could bottle up the sound in a music box to play it back when you’re feeling lonely. You know what Zethino meant now when she said your bond beat with pleasure. You blossom beneath his careful musings.

‘See? We’re close as can be,’ Astarion murmurs. He rests his chin on your shoulder and brushes his thumb against your thigh. ‘But darling, if we’re going to have a lifetime together, we really must work on your stitching.’

‘Only if you’ll teach me,’ you say.

‘Oh, I’ll be the best teacher you’ve ever had,’ Astarion agrees.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #from ，carcosa .#my fic #pandimoostuff #* a thousand lives，and one #*bites my hands*#SEE I CAN WRITE HAPPY STUFF #ignore the slight angst in the middle

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viivenn · 5 months

Text

have you ever wondered what captain phasma looks like without her helm? perhaps i have an answer to your burning curiosity…

in this i’d like to also discuss some headcannons for miss phasma that i had mentioned with @agathaandgwenslesbian because cappie phazzie is just so… 🥰😍🙏✨✨

- the scar on her eye is both a cut and a burn. when she fell in all that fire the only spot unprotected by her armor was the break in her helm, and now it's a patch of burned skin. the harsher scar pictured here is present as well because that scar comes from the initial blow from finn.

- i'm also willing to bet phasma doesn't wear makeup either. "there's no time for it nor is there a need". however she would, on free time/when she's training, wear industrial/cargo pants, thick military/combat boots, and a gray tee tucked in neatly with a simple black belt. the logo to accompany that shirt is a small first order sigil near the collarbone and on her pants she would wear patches with her name, rank, and perhaps home flag on it as well as the first order's sigil as a patch.

- she's not offended by the assumption of masculinity, because she takes on the role of forceful and brutal commander whilst maintaining a strong reputation amongst the ranks of the first order. secretly, though she sees him as freakish and only tolerates him for his status, she's quite amused by kylo ren and wouldn't have it any other way. “the first order is not the same without him." she would also quietly tease him for his inability to find the map to skywalker.

- she would also probably take great pride in how shiny her armor is and routinely keep it clean on her free time, desperate to keep scuffs and marks out of it. she doesn't like deformalities, especially when it comes to her personal items.

- in terms of where her loyalties lie , she is ultimately loyal to herself despite her position and rank amongst her fellows. she would never admit it out loud though, and keep to herself about that opinion, but if it came down to her or a few members of her troops, she'd be fine with the sacrifice.

- phasma would probably pretend her baton is a lightsaber on occasion, side training with saber combat on either opponents or training dummies. if she is caught doing so, she would most certainly threaten the life of whoever caught her playing pretend. "you won't tell a soul if you value your life. now get back to work.”

- she probably secretly drinks tea in her quarters as well because she's british and it's natural.

in my humble opinion , she is most certainly , “gaslight , gatekeep , girlboss”.

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 3 months

Text

title: vulnerability

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: PG

genre: angst & fluff

pairing: alastor x reader x lucifer

summary: you find alastor after the battle in bad shape. you have to help him and get him healed.

note: this is the fic from the snippet i posted the other day! ☺️

After the battle, you saw immediately that Alastor was missing. Quickly running off to search for him and realizing the only place he could be was the broken down radio tower. Finding Alastor broken and battered in that tower did not fare well with your soul. You helped patch him up temporarily, but he was still bleeding a lot, barely hanging on to a thread of consciousness.

“Al, I need you to get us to Luce’s room. Can you do that?” You ask, looking at him, your hand caressing his face. He nods, shockingly quiet and with a heavy sigh, you’re both engulfed in shadows and reappear in a bright and circular room. You support Alastor, clumsily as his seven foot frame leaning on your five foot frame was difficult to manage. You get him over to a chair and look at him.

“Al, I’m going to grab Lucifer.” You whisper, tears coming to your eyes looking at him. The bandages not even looking pristine at this point and his blood seeping through quickly. His button up open and hanging on his shoulders as he slumped in the chair, looking the most human you had seen him.

“Just stay with me chére. He’ll come.” Alastor murmured, pulling you to the arm of his chair.

“Please, Alastor. You’re scaring me. You’ve lost so much blood. And I can’t… I can’t loose you.” You look at him, tears falling down your face. He looks at you and shakes his head.

“You couldn’t-“ He’s cut off as the door opens and a disshelved Lucifer comes charging in, his eyes wide and when it lands on the both of you he gasps.

“Fuck Alastor.” He says coming over, making you cry harder. “Is he…” Lucifer trails off thinking the worst. Alastor opens his eyes for a moment and looks at Lucifer.

“You wish.” He whispers. Lucifer’s eyes widen and he goes to the other side of Alastor.

“You’re making our girl cry, asshole.” Lucifer points out. Alastor looks at you with a soft smile.

“Don’t cry. It’s okay.” He tries to assure you but when he moves a bit, the bandages start leaking. Lucifer’s eyes widen.

“It’s not letting you heal is it?” Lucifer asks.

“No, I haven’t been able to heal at all.” Alastor responds, his hand going to the wound again on his chest. Lucifer takes his jacket off and tells you to stand away. You shake your head as Alastor grabs your hand.

“Fine. Fine. This might hurt.” Lucifer warns as he rolls up his shirt sleeves. Your mind is reeling on what this all means and what Lucifer is doing. But you stay silent, knowing that your questions right now would delay whatever they were doing.

“Do your worst.” Alastor grinds out. Lucifer puts his hands on Alastor’s chest and his hands start to glow gold. Suddenly the wound it self is glowing gold and Alastor’s eyes shoot open. The scream that rings out is nothing like you’ve ever heard. Alastor starts thrashing, trying to get away.

“Damn it, hold him down!” Lucifer yells at you as he keeps his hands on Alastor’s chest. You push Alastor’s shoulders down as he looks at you betrayed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You have to stay here, please.” You tell Alastor as tears fall from your eyes as Alastor’s demonic form takes shape.

“Fuck, Al, calm down!” Lucifer yells pushing him back down now with you.

“Alastor, please, we’re trying to help you. Lucifer is healing you. Please, we love you, we wouldn’t hurt you.” You say, gently taking his face in your hands. His eyes lock on yours and you watch as the radio dials fade and his crimson eyes shine back.

“Darling…” He whispers and cries out as the golden glow is the brightest and then the room is shrouded in what feels like darkness, but it’s just the same light as before. You look at Lucifer and see the sweat that had beaded on his forehead, and you wiped it away. Lucifer looks up at you grateful. You both look down at Alastor as he looks down at his chest which he unwrapped. You follow his eyes and see the wound healed but almost like golden stitches were tattooed across it. It wasn’t normal gold though, they glittered and were almost glowing in the dark.

“You branded me.” Alastor deadpans looking at Lucifer. Lucifer just glares at him, his eyes partially lidded with exhaustion.

“Thank you Lucifer for saving me.” You say. “Oh you’re welcome Alastor, I’d probably do it again.” You look at Alastor after that, “These tattoos are pretty cool. Thanks again for saving me. Love you!” You then look at Lucifer, the panic you felt before fading into manic, “Oh no problem. They look great! Love you too!”

You shake your head as you hop down off the chair and walk into the bathroom, missing the looks that Lucifer and Alastor exchange. You grab some soap and start washing your hands, getting ready to wash your face. Wanting to be away from both Lucifer and Alastor’s sheer ridiculousness.

“Ducky, why are you crying?” Lucifer asks, standing on your right behind you, scaring you as you jump, not hearing him or Alastor come into the bathroom.

“I-I’m not. Not crying.” You say looking at your self in the mirror. You blink and more tears fall. “Maybe I am.” You sigh.

“Why?” Alastor asks.

“Why? Why?” You ask loudly rounding on them. “I almost watched you die, Alastor. And either one of you could have died in that damn battle. And I just- I can’t loose you. I just… I can’t loose you both.” You whisper out as you slump against the counter of the bathroom, hiding your face in your hands. There’s a beat of silence and then you feel two hands pull your hands from your face. Your eyes meeting Alastor’s.

“I told you I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers, holding your hands to his chest.

“And I’m not going anywhere.” Lucifer says, coming to your side and resting his head on your shoulder. You sob as you stand there.

“You promise?” You ask, feeling ridiculous asking these two beings to promise. But you needed something that felt more concrete than their words at that moment.

“I swear it.” Lucifer says, kissing your lips.

“So do I.” Alastor adds on, kissing both your hands. You nod and take one hand to wipe the tears away from your eyes. Alastor stops you and wipes the tears from your eyes for you. And then suddenly your clothes are changed into pajamas. You look at Lucifer who is also in his pajamas, smiling for the first time.

“Remedial creation, darling.” Lucifer winks at you.

“Aren’t you just a useful little devil?” Alastor purrs, and both yours and Lucifer’s eyes widen. Lucifer’s cheeks completely red. You chuckle as you walk through them to the bed. As you look back you see them murmur something to each other and both nod, as Lucifer hugs Alastor. Alastor pulls Lucifer back and quickly gives the King of Hell a quick kiss and they both make their way to the bed. You climb in and ask what side each wants or where they want to sleep.

“May I-uh, sleep in the middle?” Alastor asks, still uncharacteristically quiet.

You excitedly nod and hop on the left side as Lucifer takes the right. You cozy up to Alastor’s left side and rest your hand on his chest. Lucifer grabs your hand as you both rest your hands on Alastor’s chest and cuddles into his right side. Alastor, is fast asleep almost the minute his head hits the pillow. You look at Lucifer who is also out like a light and smile. You all made it through this, you could make it through whatever came next.

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Text

These Hallowed Halls

Cassian x Fem!Reader

Based on this ask x

Summary - You had begged Cassian not to leave you again, you had begged him to stay, and you had fallen apart when he had left without saying goodbye.

Warnings - swearing, ANGST, depression, weight loss, fluff, Cassian being a raging prick, Azriel being a softie, mentions of blood

The Mother was certainly mocking you.

Rain smacked against the stone balcony beyond the glass doors which were rattling in the wild wind, harmonising with your own sadness as you stood in the centre of your room, finding little to no comfort in front of the fire you were usually curled in front of.

Grey skies loomed overhead. It was rare for such a storm to descend upon Velaris, so rare that most didn't know what to do when it arrived. Most opted to stay in doors and wait it out, wait until starlight flooded the streets in welcome and fae journeyed on in their lives.

Cassian stood before you, dishevelled and tired, deep sunken patches under his one shade darker than usual eyes, his lips curled into a snarl, body lax and weary. The Illyrian ran his hands over his face, grazing his fingertips over his growing beard, and he rolled his shoulders and his wings with them before he looked to you and sighed, "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Y/N."

You had been joined at the hip, had a relationship that no one could ever understand, not even Rhys or Az could figure it out. Cassian was your lighthouse in an ocean of fog, he had the ability to be your happiness or shatter your soul, and you clung to every piece of affection and attention that he gave to you. When he was gone, you felt as though you were on fire, like every single one of your nerve ends were being cauterised and there was no anaesthesia.

Brown waves fell from his loosely wrapped bun, drifting over his face which was illuminated by that golden glow emitting from the fireplace. Cassian had come to you right after he reported to Rhys like he always did, but instead of hugging you tightly and cracking open a bottle of wine to tell you his next enthralling tale, he stood before you to tell you he was leaving again with a cold and distant accent taking over his entire body.

"But, you've only just gotten back," you told him, fiddling with the cuffs of his jumper that you had stolen, just needing to be surrounded by him for one moment, it drowned your body since Cassian was a large framed male, and you adored his jumpers, they made you feel precious.

"I know that," he bit, his muscles tensing in a different order every few seconds.

He was exhausted, you knew that, it rolled off him in waves, no, tsunamis, and you wanted nothing more than to run your hand through his unbound hair and tell him it was okay. But you had missed him, too much.

The fire crackled at the head of your bedroom, a blanket lay strewn over the arm of the sofa from when you had flung it off of your body the moment his scent filled your lungs from down the hallway.

"Do you have to go? I've missed you Cass, it's been horrible without you," you pleaded, each one of your words made him feel heavy.

Cassian adored you, you were his shadow, clinging to him for comfort, he always found you in his clothes, he always found you waiting for him whenever he returned home to give him what he needed. Whether that be someone to laugh with or someone to hold until he fell asleep.

You were his person. In the most platonic way possible. Cassian couldn't say that about anyone else but you.

"Rhys had ordered it. So yes. I have to go," his words were harsh and laced with venom, a pure annoyance that radiated from him as he rolled his neck, unmoving from his place in front of you.

You were confused, he hadn't even smiled at you when he had entered your room, he hadn't hugged you or asked how you had been, he hadn't offered to tell you a story or let you know what he needed to feel better. The Cassian in front of you wasn't the Cassian you recognised.

It was the first time you felt small in front of him, the first time where his gaze made you cower and feel uneasy, "I can speak to him if you'd like? He might let you have some rest at least-"

"Fuck, Y/N. Will you just stop?!" Cassian shouted at you, the sound of his voice made you flinch backward as he took a step toward you, "I don't need you to do anything for me. I don't need you to stroke my hair or fight my corner, I don't need you to talk to Rhys for me like your words will make any difference in what my High Lord requires me to do. I don't need you suffocating me and wearing my fucking clothes. I don't need you, Y/N."

Water blurred your vision as his words sliced through you, deadly enough to make you feel as though you were dying, "I'm sorry, I was just trying-"

"Stop trying. Just stop. I am the General of the Night Court's armies, it is my duty to go where I am needed and I'm very sorry to say that it's not with you Y/N. Others need me more than you. Stop fucking clinging to me and find something else to obsess over."

Cassian was panting and breathless, fury blazed in his rich hazel orbs and you let out a pained sob, wrapping your arms around yourself and stepping backward again until your legs hit the back of the sofa, you rested your weight against it and let out a shaky breath.

You didn't dare look up when you heard Cassian shuffle, his feet scuffing against the floor breaking the silence that had consumed you. You had expected him to realise what he had said, you had expected him to rush to your side and apologise. But no. Cassian dragged his feet behind him and opened your bedroom door, allowing a gust a cold air to circle the once warm room before slamming it behind him, slamming it so hard that the canvases on your walls rattled at the force.

Sleep that night had not consumed you like it usually did, the ghost of Cassian's touch lingered on your skin and you cried until your throat was raw and head was pounding. You cried until the words he spat at your drowned you into the abyss.

The morning had come around quickly and you had groaned whilst getting out of bed, the little sleep you had gotten clear on your face and body, your tear stained cheeks were puffy and red, and your hair was a mess from your hands clawing through it, begging for some pressure to take your pain away.

You had to find him. You had to see him. You had to say goodbye.

But when you had entered his room without knocking, you gasped, his bed was askew, the scent of him lingered in the air, but he wasn't there. Cassian had left. His bedroom a haphazard sign that he had left in a hurry and as soon as he had woken up.

You hadn't realised that you had fallen to your knees sobbing until cedar and night-kissed mountains flooded you, Az's arms wrapped around you and he held you close, hushing you and whispered to you that everything was going to be fine. Rhys had appeared next, frowning at you with sad eyes before cradling you carefully to his chest, stroking your hair as he carried you back to your room and fitted your sheets over your frame. Rhys continued to hold you until your mind was weak enough to allow him in to put you to sleep.

They had tried everything to coax you out of bed the weeks following Cassian's abrupt exit, Amren had offered to take you to the library countless times, promising to buy you every book that you wanted. Mor had tried to get you to go to Rita's, to drink and dance the pain away. Azriel's shadows peppered kisses over your face and had done their best to curl around the edge of your sheet to pull them down, to which you had whimpered and pulled them back up to your neck. Rhys had even offered to take you dress shopping, he told you that if an expensive garment was going to make you smile then he would spend his entire fortune on it.

Nothing made you want to move.

Your soul felt empty, every fibre of your body felt dead and cold, like the crisp forest in the middle of a harsh winter. Nothing made you want to live your life. Cassian's words to you played over and over in your mind, maybe you were too much, maybe after all your years together in your family had made you too comfortable.

It took everything within you to not ask for one of his jumpers, he had made it clear that he didn't want you to be like that anymore. He didn't want you.

Your body felt heavy, the weight of your despair crushing your limbs into dust. You felt the weight dropping off of you, you felt your stomach cry for nourishment but didn't wish to satisfy it, you didn't want anything, anyone, but him.

"Please get up, Y/N. It's been three weeks, you've hardly eaten. We're worried about you," Azriel had settled into the space behind you and smothered you with his heat, he noticed how cold you were, how tired and lost your eyes were, how you wore an expression of pure heartbreak and loneliness on your beautiful face.

Azriel sighed at your weak grunt, pulling you back into his chest and doing his best to make you feel loved and cherished. He couldn't admit it but he had heard the words Cassian had so carelessly thrown at you that night, and it took everything within him to not burst through your door and pummel his brother into the ground, even his shadows wanted a piece of the General, how dare he say those things to you.

The Shadowsinger couldn't even put into words the relationship between you and Cassian. You had never been lovers, but you had never been just friends. Friends didn't peck each others temples or stroke each others hair. Friends didn't wait up for the other to return home and then scurry into one of their bedrooms to hold one another and talk. Friends didn't act like you and Cassian, two kindred spirits of chemically perfect harmonisation.

Azriel missed your smile, he missed the way that they all lit up when you laughed, or entered the room, or even looked at them. You made life feel lighter, you made life feel balanced. But now, now it felt disjointed, and they all felt it.

When you didn't move, or even tear your gaze away from the world beyond your window, he sighed and left the room with a soft click of the door. Cassian wasn't due to return for another couple of weeks, and Azriel feared so badly that the damage would be too severe for even Cassian to repair.

The days ticked on, days where you didn't eat or bathe, days where you only left your bed to use the bathroom before finding another nightgown to wear, days where your only sustenance were a few almonds and some water. Mor had gasped when she had seen your body through the crack in your door, the grey tinged sickly paled skin, the outline of your ribs, the deep hued sacks under your eyes; it was too much for her to witness, and she had to take herself into her own room and cry for you.

Azriel had knelt in front of you two weeks later, tears in his eyes, and you felt his sadness rippling off of him as his face entered your weak vision, it was the first time you had really looked at any of them since that day. He had taken your limp hand in his own, he had allowed his shadows to slither up your limb and coax you gently into smiling softly at him, "Please get up, Y/N. Please. I'll do anything you want. I can't watch you kill yourself anymore. We love you, we love you so much. Please."

You had squeezed his hand as hard as you could, which to him was nothing, and shifted in your bed, wincing as you pushed your legs over the side of the mattress. Azriel was beside you in a second, crouching in front of you and helping you to your feet, "I want to feel the sun," you voice was hoarse, Azriel was surprised that you still knew how to talk, "Take me to summer."

Cassian had sped home as fast as he could once his job was finished. The feeling of leaving you had broken him more each time he had thought about it, that pained look on your face had haunted his dreams. He never should have said those things to you, he never should have left you, he should have told Rhys to go and fuck himself instead of what he really did.

You had cowered like a wounded animal in front of him whilst every word cut you like a knife, if it were a knife you'd surely be dead.

He had to get back to you.

Cassian had landed on the lawn of the River House and he felt the atmosphere shift, what was once light and warm was now cold and ominous. The house held no joy, your laugh did not stalk the halls, it just felt lonely, abandoned. Just like you.

The door had flown open and Mor had stalked from the hearth, eyes blazing with hatred, pale and tired, and she wasted no time in bounding right up to him and planting her fist right in the centre of his face. Cassian lurched to the side at the impact, cradling his busted nose in his hand, "You prick," she seethed, Amren and Rhys had flown out of the house after her but were to late to stop her from jabbing Cassian right in the nose, "Today was the first time she's even spoke after what you did," her finger was in his face, her eyes were wild and frantic, "How could you do that to her? She's your person, she's your best friend and you did that?"

Rhys grabbed her wrist before she could land another blow, Amren had swooped in and guided Mor back into the house, not before growling at the male in front of her, leaving Cassian and Rhys out on the lawn, the latter of which was glowering at his brother.

"Count yourself lucky that she got to you first," Rhys was dead behind the eyes, Cassian had never seen a void like it, he looked to the house, hoping that the foundations would peel apart so that he could see you, Rhys scoffed, "Azriel has taken her to Summer. She needed the sun, she hasn't been out in it for four weeks."

"Four weeks?" Rhys hummed, his power throbbing around him, "Rhys I fucked up, I need to see her."

"I'm sure you can wait, like she waited for you. I hope you're proud of yourself brother, I really do."

Rhys turned on his heels and disappeared into the depths of the home, leaving Cassian stood in the grass cursing himself for ever taking his anger out on you.

Rhys had called to Azriel, had told him that Cassian was at the River House and that he should take you to the House of Wind instead. Azriel had obliged without question, not wanting to put himself in the situation where he would harm a member of his family.

You had figured it out, the reason why your residence had been moved so abruptly, and it shattered you. Your afternoon in the sun had been lovely, you felt the sun seeping into your pores, you felt the waves kissing your feet, you felt the sand between your toes, and you felt safe pacing beside Azriel who only spoke when you did.

Soon enough, you had found yourself in the deep tub of you House of Wind bedroom, you had always loved the view there, you could see the valley of gold at the foot of the mountains, you could hear the childish laughter drift upward from the streets, and you could see the starlight cascade across the sky.

Oils and warmth washed your grime and paleness away, the heat giving a new lease of life to your skin. You were sure that you still looked awful, that much was obvious from the longing stares your family had bestowed upon you over the past few weeks.

The tub rippled as you stood from it, you dried yourself off and pulled one of Azriel's jumpers over your figure as well as a pair of lax cotton pants that hung from your hips. Azriel had done his best to make your room feel cosy, he lit the fire with his own hands and refused to cower away, he wouldn't cower away from it for you, he had brought you tea and fluffed your pillows, but you still ached, you still yearned for something else.

Loud voices echoed from the hallway, the padding of feet drew closer and you frowned softly at the noises floating to your ears. The door of your bedroom flew open and you found Cassian stood before you, nose smeared with poorly wiped blood, he looked frantic and boiling with worry and fear, and his face contorted when he saw you.

Rhys had entered after him, he had surveyed you carefully, noticing the towel you must have been drying your hair with now a pile of cotton on the floor, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I can make him leave."

It was like your soul was burning with that aching fire, only this time it wasn't painful, your soul was singing a symphony of emotion, "No," you said weakly, your eyes moved to Rhys and you nodded, he told you he was only a shout away if you needed him and then left.

Cassian drank you in, the lifeless eyes and limp hair, the greyish hue to your skin, the dark bags under your eyes, he noted the way the clothes you wore hung from your frame and the way your cheeks sunk into the bone, and he broke, "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I never should have said those things to you, I don't know what I was thinking," Tears streamed down his cheeks and it hurt you to see him that way, "You're not clingy or obsessed, I know you were trying to look out for me. You always look out for me."

"I love every single thing about you. I love the way my jumpers drown you and coat you in my scent, I love it when you wait for me to come home, I love the way fire spreads through me whenever you touch me. I love everything that you are. I'm so sorry that I've done this to you. You deserve the world and everything good in it, you deserve so much better than me," his words were floating between broken sobs, he tried to move to you and visibly winced when you took a step back, "You are my everything. You are the one who completes me, you are the one I search for whenever I enter a room, you are the only one who I feel safe with."

"My home is wherever you are, you are my home and I know I've fucked up and I understand if you never want to speak to me again. I just need you to know that I'm sorry. If I have to leave Velaris for you to feel safe then I will, I-"

"Why would you do that?" you voice called to him, you took a single step forward and examined him, he was distraught, "I went to find you that morning, to apologise for being so suffocating," you cringed at the word, at how it had made you feel when he had thrown it at you, "But you were gone."

Cassian took a step closer to you, "I knew what I'd done, I saw what I'd done to you and I couldn't see you look at me like that again. I wanted to protect you from me, I needed to get you away from me."

You wrapped your arms around your frame and found his eyes, his beautiful pools of rippling sadness screaming for you, "I don't need protecting from you, Cass. I just need you," you tucked a strand of your wet hair behind your ear and continued, "I don't know why I cling to you, it hurts to be away from you, I feel like my body is dying when you leave me. It feels like my soul is being ripped from my body and I can't breathe when you're gone. I'm nothing without you. I can't live without you."

Cassian had closed the gap between you, his hands finding a place on your hip and under your chin and he tilted your head upward, his eyes searched your face, delving into the deepest depths of your thrumming soul and his eyes widened, "Y/N," his voice was a whisper, his thumb glided across your cheek and you found yourself leaning into the touch, soaking up the affection like a sponge in the ocean.

Bottom lip wobbling, he took your face in his hands, "I think I know why you've been feeling like that."

Cassian's breath fanned across your face and you inhaled deeply, you felt your soul melting, all of the sadness now a painful memory, you felt hot white starlight and the shifting of those golden threads, webbing your essence together until it jolted into place. The snap. Cassian continued to hold you in his arms and your fingers brushed against his jaw, "We're mates," it was a fact, and he nodded.

"We're mates," a tear slid down his cheek, and you knew he felt all of your pain in that moment, "I promise that I will take care of that heart of gold for the rest of my days. I promise to love you endlessly until you tell me to stop," he rested his forehead against yours, "I knew it was you, I knew it was us."

"Meant to be," Cassian huffed out a gentle sigh and brushed his nose against your own before dipping his lips to meet yours.

It was better than you could have ever imagined, you felt your souls merging together into one, you felt the world grow lighter and your heart grow fuller, you felt your scent combining into something that could drown continents. You felt him.

And as long as you both lived, there would never be a day where either of you felt unloved.

Authors Note

Jeeeeez!

Love these requests, they make me so happy x

@jenniferpendragon @acourtof-wingspan

381 notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 8 months

Text

desire

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: now that the defenders of freedom had been caught, what's next for you and frank?

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol & grief, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.1k

a/n: the one you've all been waiting for. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Considering the fact that your place was still an active crime scene and Homeland still needed to track down the rest of Steven’s dipshit goons to ensure there would be no more threats or attacks, Dinah wanted to take you to a safe house until the investigation was finished.

Frank, however, was not having any of that shit.

It was admittedly an ego boost watching Dinah and Frank lock into a heated staring contest while arguing about who got protective custody of you, and definitely amusing. But eventually, she gave into the stubborn brick wall that was Frank Castle, threw her hands up in total exasperation that was followed by a colorful string of adjectives thrown his way, and that was how you found yourself once again on the road with Frank.

Initially when you noticed that Frank was driving in the direction outside of the city, perplexment weaved between your brows, but he quickly set your curiosity straight as soon as he noticed it blanketing your features. He didn’t even give you a chance to voice your inquisitions before explaining that he was taking you somewhere safe that no one else knew about.

That knowledge filled you with a bubbling sense of giddiness because getting to stay with Frank at his apartment was one thing, but getting to stay with him in a place that sounded private and secluded? Yeah, that was more than okay with you.

The longer Frank drove, the more drastic the scenery changed, passing by in a blurry film reel on the other side of the passenger window. The clamorous and bustling streets of the concrete city faded away slowly and soon settled into quiet black asphalt that shrank to one lane on either side of the road. The millions of inhabitants of New York City seemed to melt away into the horizon in the rear view mirror of Frank’s truck, leaving the two of you the only souls for miles. The trees became more and more dense, creating opaque patches of foliage in golden ochre, rusty ginger, and spiced cranberry. In that moment, sitting in the passenger seat was the most at peace you had felt in almost seven months since the whole had nightmare began, and a lot of that peace had everything to do with the man in the driver’s seat absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the Bruce Springsteen CD currently playing.

After about two hours of driving and light conversation, Frank turned off the asphalt road onto an unmarked dirt path, and you turned your head to stare over at him in half-hearted suspicion while lifting a brow in silent questioning.

“You know, if you kept me alive this long just to murder me in the middle of the woods, that’s some serious dedication.”

Without missing a beat, Frank let out a dry chuckle.

“If I was gonna kill ya, I woulda started switchin’ your coffee out with decaf a long time ago.”

It was always a struggle not to laugh at Frank’s dry sense of humor. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of your amusement, but you found yourself giving in more and more lately. Letting out an overly dramatic sharp gasp while staring at him in exaggerated faux horror, you reached over and lightly smacked your palm against his firm bicep.

“That is the most evil form of torture I have ever heard.”

Frank snickered deviantly, clearly pleased with himself, and the relaxed grin on his soft lips was stretched so wide that his lifted cheeks caused his eyes to crinkle in delight. For a moment, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. It never failed to render you speechless just how much lighter Frank looked when he smiled. Happiness looked so achingly beautiful on him. Every time you silently observed him, you always learned something new about Frank. He had deep set creases softly feathering around the edges of his eye sockets, proof that Frank had once been a man that smiled and laughed as easily as he breathed. You sincerely hoped that version of him that he seemed to keep buried so deeply was steadily rising back to the surface, and that these ephemeral glimpses you got would soon become permanent.

The gilded stream of midday light cast a velvet glow on Frank’s softened features, leaving you so completely entranced that you hadn’t even noticed the lack of motion when he parked his truck.

“We’re here.”

The gruff alert of Frank’s voice induced you out of your bewitchment, and it was then that you suddenly noticed the quaint one story cabin nestled a few feet away in front of you.

It was composed of wood in a rich shade of burnt umber, and topped with a forest green downward v-shaped roof. There were a few worn steps leading up to an enclosed porch that appeared to snugly wrap around the cabin entirely, and two large square glass windows on either side of the front door that was painted the same shade of green as the roof. The curtains were drawn so you couldn’t see inside, but from the outside it looked incredibly cozy.

When you got out of the car, you noticed there wasn’t anything around at all but thick woods, and you silently wondered just how far back they went. There didn’t appear to be anyone or anything around for miles, and the only sounds you could hear were birds chirping and the worn wooden steps creaking under the weight of Frank’s heavy black boots.

“Wow. Billy offers one hell of a retirement plan.”

Following up the steps behind Frank’s large frame, a glimpse of black flashed in your peripheral vision, and you noticed there were security cameras installed on the left and right corners of the roof, along with what looked to be several motion detector lights along the top perimeter. Knowing Frank, there were probably far more around the entire cabin, and probably even hidden in the trees as well.

Frank paused for a moment at your comment, his dark brown eyes glossing over your presence at his right before taking in the sight of his own cabin like it was the first time he had ever seen it.

“Nah, s’just somethin’ I never got ‘round to finishin’ ‘til a few months ago. Almost forgot ‘bout it. It was s’posed to be a surprise project for my-”

The second Frank cut himself off, his body language changed entirely. His relaxed posture instantly stiffened, causing him to stand rigidly at his full height while his shoulders squared to their broadened width. The former calm expression he wore turned to stone right before your very eyes and he clenched his jaw in such a harsh line you could hear his teeth grind. Frank was intensely staring directly through the small six panel window that was in the top middle of the front door, like there was something on the other side that only he could see.

Before you could react, he abruptly unlocked the front door and pushed it open with his left hand, clearing his throat and vaguely gesturing with his index finger before turning away to descend the stairs without giving you so much as a second glance.

“I’ll uh get the bags. Room at the end of the hall on the right is yours.”

The haunted look in Frank’s eyes reminded you of the night of the gala when he had told you that he had lost his wife. It was almost the exact same one. The thought briefly crossed your mind that he meant to say it had been a surprise project for her, but you quickly put it to rest. Frank clearly didn’t want to elaborate on the subject, and you knew better than to push. The best thing to do was give him his space and let him come to you if he wanted to. Still, it didn’t stop the journalist in you from running wild with questions, and also filling you with a slight sense of guilt that you were about to share a space with Frank that was meant to be something sacred and special between him and his wife.

»»———　　———««

The room at the end of the hall ended up being the master bedroom, to which you protested heavily against taking, but ultimately ended up being an argument you lost because Frank played dirty and distracted you with the delectable scent of homemade pasta sauce and a wine glass that was filled to the brim with bubbly pink.

While you sat at the kitchen island and sipped at your now half empty glass, you studied Frank with a narrowed gaze. A part of you was annoyed with him and yourself at how easily you fell into the trap he set. He knew you well enough to know Italian food was your weakness and that you were more compliant after being fed. But a bigger part of you was completely mesmerized by the way he gracefully navigated the open kitchen.

There was a furrow of concentration nestled between his thick brows while he precisely measured specific spices to add to the saucepan that was layered with ruby sauce that he had garnished with freshly cut oregano and parsley. On the far back left burner was a boiling pot of penne pasta, and in front of that was a skillet of ground meat Frank had added diced onion and garlic to along with several other seasonings. He shifted between each pan with a quiet elegance that captivated you, and simultaneously irritated you, because there didn’t seem to be a damn thing the man couldn’t do.

“So you’ve been a secret chef this entire time and didn’t tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

Rolling your eyes at his quick retort, you cocked your head to the side slightly and focused on the way his back muscles strained against the fabric of the black henley he wore.

“I’m pretty sure I would’ve had an easier time getting nuclear launch codes from the Russian government than ever getting a straight answer out of you.”

Frank snorted at that, throwing you a quick humored glance over his broad shoulder.

“Hey, I give you answers.”

“Oh yeah, after nearly five months of stonewalling me. I didn’t even know what you did before becoming a bodyguard until you told me, what, a week and a half ago?”

Frank lifted one of his thick brows while turning his body slightly towards you.

“You never read my personnel file?”

Glancing down at your wine glass, you clicked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and gave a subtle shake of your head.

“Homeland wouldn’t let me have it.”

“And you let that stop you?”

There was a hint of tease in Frank’s deep voice, and you lifted your gaze to squint at him in annoyance noticing the cheeky smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

“I’m a journalist, Frank. Not a hacker.”

“Ah, don’t give me that shit. That may be your job but it ain’t all you are. Besides, you’re a goddamn force to be reckoned with and a pain in the ass when you don’t get your way.”

A mischievous smirk slipped across your lips while you brought your glass up to your mouth, looking at Frank innocently over the rim.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Frank’s eyes seemed to wander over your face, stopping at the way the rim of the glass settled against your bottom lip, and when he met your eyes again, they were subtly darkened with that look that sent a tingle down your spine.

He silently stared at you for only a second longer before giving a slight nod, and you caught the wry smile slipping over his lips as he turned back to face the stove.

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart.”

You weren’t exactly sure what the source was of the heat you currently felt blooming in your cheeks: the wine you had consumed, the aroma of the fresh chili pepper Frank had just added to the sauce, or the way he had just looked at you.

Attempting to redirect your impure thoughts before the liquid courage could make you bold enough to voice them, you looked for something to distract yourself with. With your chin in your palm, you glanced down at the rouge tinted liquid and lazily swished it around in your wine glass. A thought quickly popped into your head that caused you to let out a soft snort.

“I didn’t take you as a rosé guy.”

Frank adjusted the heat on the sauce to a low simmer before turning to face you fully, wiping his large hands off on a sage green rag before tossing it over his right shoulder. He took a step over towards the island you were sitting at and wrapped his long fingers around his own wine glass, which looked ludicrously tiny in his hand, and took a long purposeful swig before licking his lips and arching one of his dark brows.

“What? This is good shit.”

Reaching for the half empty bottle sitting on the island, you let out a soft laugh and went in for a refill. The relaxing effects of the wine had clearly already reached your brain, and before it could catch up with your mouth, you blurted out your next question like it couldn’t possibly ruin the mood.

“Was this your wife’s favorite?”

Frank didn’t clam up like you had expected given his behavior earlier. Instead, he glanced down at the glass in his hand for a moment before shaking his head with a tiny smile gracing the curve of his lips.

“Nah, friend of mine’s wife got me into this stuff.”

Frank took a moment to stare down into the glass, as if there was a fond memory appearing in the bubbles. Clearing his throat, he took another large swig of the wine and set the nearly empty glass down on the island.

“She uh…she liked white wine.”

For some reason, Frank’s casual admission sent a flush of velour warmth through you. Whatever barrier that had prevented Frank from speaking freely earlier seemed to be somewhat dismantled, and this was the first time he had ever spoken voluntarily about his wife that hadn’t left a heavy fog of grief lingering over either of you. A tender smile stretched across your lips as you lifted your glass up in a silent toast.

“My kinda woman. What was her favorite?”

Frank leaned over the island on his elbows, holding the delicate glass in both of his strong hands. The amber lighting in the kitchen made his eyes look like swirls of melted chocolate, and you resisted the urge to lean in closer when he finally looked at you with a faint smile tugging at the left edge of his mouth.

“Pinot Grigio.”

A huge grin stretched across your lips at his answer, and you shook your head faintly as you light heartedly pointed your right index finger towards Frank and lifted your glass to your lips.

“Oh I bet I could’ve easily converted her to a sauvignon blanc girl. There’s this brand from Chile that makes the best blanc, and she would’ve loved it.”

For a moment Frank simply observed you in silent fondness. When you set your glass down, his eyes flickered to his own, and he made a quiet noise of recognition in his throat before speaking quietly.

“She woulda liked you.”

That single sentiment held more weight and significant meaning to you than anything anyone else had ever said to you. A tight lump formed in your throat as those words echoed in your head, and you felt the overwhelming urge to make this intimate moment just as special for Frank, but with the alcohol in your system you couldn’t convey your feelings as eloquently.

“My mom would’ve annoyed you.”

Frank immediately started howling with laughter, turning his head to look at you with squinted eyes in incredulous amusement.

“What?”

“I mean she would have loved you, no doubt about that, but she probably would’ve annoyed you. And definitely hit on you. She was like me, only she had way less of a filter and absolutely zero shame. I think my being nosey and stubborn was genetic, but she took it to a whole other level. Did you know I used to be really quiet?”

Frank’s thick brows lifted in surprise, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. The rosé was acting as a truth serum, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rambling.

“I was. I was very quiet, and extremely cautious, compliments of my careless mother. She wasn’t really careless, I mean she loved me, she was just a bit reckless, but not in a bad way. Like not a I-need-therapy-for-the-rest-of-my-life way but more of a she-had-me-at-sixteen-and-we-grew-up-together way. You know that I was such a bookworm that she practically begged me to be rebellious and hang out with someone other than her or the local librarian? And she’s the whole reason I wanted to go to Columbia, because she wanted to go to Columbia, but you can’t go to Columbia with a baby and no high school degree, and I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, and I probably should have shut up ten minutes ago, but anyway my mom would’ve liked you but definitely annoyed you more than me.”

Those newfound beloved crinkles were once again decorating Frank’s eyes as he chuckled heartily at your rambling. He downed the rest of his own wine before setting the empty glass down, flashing you a crooked grin as he loosely gestured in your direction with his chin.

“I’m sure I woulda liked Lorelai just as much as I do you.”

There was a skip in your heart’s rhythm, partly because he finally admitted that he liked you as a person, but more so when you realized that Frank remembered your mother’s name. It tugged at your heartstrings, because it was such a simple gesture, but also because it reminded you just how much you missed your mother.

“I forget sometimes.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly when your soft voice settled in the space between the two of you, and his playful grin slowly vanished as he watched while you stared blankly down into your glass, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

“Forget what?”

“That she’s gone.”

There was a slight tremble to your voice as you looked up at Frank with a miniscule sad smile. The empathy in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and you had to look away to keep your composure from crumbling. Turning your head to the left, you took a moment to observe the layout and minimalist decor in the kitchen while letting out a shaky exhale.

“Sometimes I go to call her…just…on my way home from work, you know? Just to talk to her, hear the latest small town gossip, tell her about the latest coffee shop I’ve found that she absolutely has to try when she comes to visit next. There’s even been times I’ve left her voicemails. I’ll be so wrapped up in something and wanna vent to her, and then I’ll start to wonder why she hasn’t called back yet, and then it’ll just…hit me.”

Frank stayed quiet while he listened sympathetically, and the entire cabin was silent apart from the quiet sizzling coming from the stovetop until you gently spoke up again.

“Do you forget too?”

Finally looking over at Frank again, you watched as he lighty dragged his palm down the lower half of his face. While he glanced down at the smooth mahogany countertop, he clasped his large hands together while still resting on his elbows.

“I don’t forget she’s gone, but I uh…I’ve started forgettin’ things. I can’t remember what her perfume smelled like…or what her favorite song was. I can hear it sometimes, ya’know? Every now and then I get these…bits and pieces. Sometimes I can hear her hummin’ it in the kitchen, but it ain’t long enough to remember what song it was, ya’know? Everythin’ started gettin’ fuzzy…and I remember more things I wanna forget than things I actually wanna remember.”

There was a stretch of silence where neither of you spoke. Eventually, Frank straightened up and turned his back to you to walk back over towards the stove. Even though you knew it might not be the right time to ask, there was a question that had been burning in the back of your mind since the night of the gala.

“Frank?”

He hummed quietly in response, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder as he gave you his full attention.

“What was her name?”

The softness of your question clearly caught him off guard, and you could see the hesitation lingering in Frank’s eyes. Worried that you had crossed the line and completely ruined the moment, you were about to hastily backtrack and tell him that he didn’t have to answer when Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose, touching his index and middle finger over his chest most likely where his wedding band sat beneath his shirt.

��Maria.”

A minuscule smile covered the edge of your mouth as you tilted your head slightly to the side and tried out her name on your tongue.

“Maria. Is this her recipe?”

Frank's eyes flickered over towards the pans and the pot of boiling pasta that were still on the stove. After a moment, he nodded his head and turned his attention back to you with a tender look in his eyes.

“Penne all'Arrabbiata con Manzo. Her grandmother was Sicilian, just like my parents were. She made this every time I came home from a tour.”

The significance and sentiment behind the recipe Frank was cooking made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your ribcage. Quickly topping off Frank’s empty glass with more wine, you carefully got down from the bar stool that you were sitting on and rounded the island to make your way over to Frank. As you offered him the half full glass of wine, Frank’s eyes flickered curiously between it and your own gaze while his large hand reached out to wrap his fingers around the glass. Smiling softly up at him, you lifted your own glass slightly in the air.

“Well then, to Maria.”

There was a sudden luminescence to Frank’s warm brown eyes, but you didn’t get a chance to study it long before he nodded slightly and his lips stretched faintly into a tiny smile as he delicately clinked his glass against yours and repeated your toast in a more delicate volume of his deep voice.

“To Maria.”

»»———　　———««

“You’re fired.”

Hearty laughter boomed from deep within Frank’s chest and echoed over the crackling firewood currently blazing. He adjusted his position on the couch a few inches away from you, his features highlighted due to the radiant flames cascading from the fireplace in a contorted expression of skepticism and entertainment.

“What? Why?”

“I have known you for seven months, Castle. Seven. Months. And I’m just now finding out you have the culinary skills of a five star chef. Unacceptable. Unforgivable. I’m calling Billy first thing in the morning.”

You couldn’t hardly get through your own sentence without bursting into a fit of laughter, and Frank was in no better shape as he threw his head back against the couch and clutched at his chest with his hand that wasn’t holding his third glass of wine. There were nearly three empty bottles between the two of you forgotten on the dining table, and this was the most loose you had ever seen Frank. Maybe you should get him tipsy more often.

“You can’t fire me.”

“And why not?”

“Cause I ain’t assigned to you no more, brat.”

While Frank teased you nonchalantly as he sipped at his glass and watched the flames dance across the firewood, his words instantly sobered you up. He was right. The Defenders of Freedom had been caught, Steven was facing trial, and there was no reason for Frank to stick around anymore. It was a revelation you had been trying to ignore for the past twenty-four hours. A wave of uncertainty crashed over you in that moment. What would happen between you and Frank? When would he get assigned to someone else? Would that take him far away from you? How long could you stay in this little bubble outside reality?

Glancing down at the wounds in your palm that had steadily begun to heal, you lightly traced your thumb over the raised irritated edges as a thought suddenly flashed across your mind.

“I never thanked you.”

Even though your voice was barely above a whisper, Frank caught it, and he turned his head to look at you intently with slightly confused brows.

“For what?”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head faintly before looking back at Frank with subtle remorse.

“For everything you’ve done for me. For saving my life, more than once, and-”

Frank instantly brushed off your gratitude with a shake of his own head, reaching over to place his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“It’s my job-”

“No. Your job was to keep me safe, but you did so much more than that. You dealt with all of my shit, fixed every problem I created, and even when Homeland pulled you away, you still showed up for me. Frank, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. You saved me from those guys at the bar, you saved me from Cavella and Walker, and…you’re still saving me, even now. I could’ve gone to a safe house with Dinah, but you brought me here, even though I’m not your problem anymore-”

Frank reached for your glass of wine and firmly set it on the coffee table, effectively catching your attention while he started almost directly into your soul with a serious expression.

“Hey, you have never been a problem. Ever. You got that?”

There were so many emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for seven months that you hadn’t been processing, and now they seemed to be rising to a level you could no longer ignore. The verity in Frank’s voice nearly had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you just wanted answers. Why did he care so much? Why was he still protecting you? Why were you here right now?

“Frank…you could’ve walked away. There were so many times you could’ve walked away. Why…why did you stay?”

A substantial weight felt like it had finally been lifted off your chest as you asked the one question that had been lingering in your bones for weeks now. Although that weight was replaced by a lead filled sense of dread while you waited with anxious anticipation for a response, knowing was better than not knowing.

Frank’s deep brown eyes stared so fiercely into your own, that you felt vulnerably stripped bare despite the clothing covering your body. When he reached his left hand over to place on your jean clad thigh, he grasped it firmly and leaned in just close enough so that you couldn’t escape the enrapture of his gaze.

“I want you to listen to me, right now. I’m always gonna keep you safe, you got that? Job or no job.”

The intensity burning in his eyes and the dropped octave of his rough voice nearly stunned you silent. Your lips parted slightly as if to speak, but your fogged brain struggled to form a coherent sentence. This was the closest you had been to Frank since you had climbed onto his lap in his truck, and you were fighting so hard to not let history repeat itself. But that look…that one goddamn look you could never decipher was roaring fervently in his gaze again, and you were going absolutely mad not knowing what it meant.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself leaning in closer, staring deeply into Frank’s warm brown eyes with a pleading look reflected in your own desperate stare. You wanted to know why. You needed to know why. And you were begging Frank for a confession that wasn’t encrypted.

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine to protect.”

The possessiveness that dripped from Frank’s low voice had you abruptly clenching your thighs together, trapping his thick fingers between your weakened knees. If he minded the entrapment at all, he didn’t show it. The blaze of the fireplace was no longer what had the temperature steadily rising within your body, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Frank’s vigorous and unwavering stare. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and even though you had a million questions clamoring through your brain, all you could manage to get out in a hoarse whisper was one you needed confirmation on.

“I am?”

Frank retracted his large hand from your thigh, raising it up slowly to carefully grab your face. A few of his long fingers curled around the back of your neck while his index and middle finger rested along the underside of your jaw, and his thumb pressed lightly against your chin. His heated gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes, and that fire in them was burning bright enough for God herself to see.

“You’re goddamn right.”

Without another word, Frank pulled you in for a searing kiss, pressing his soft lips against yours tentatively but with enough passion to make his answer crystal clear. A delicate noise of surprise sounded in the back of your throat, and for a moment you nearly stopped breathing. If that first kiss in Frank’s truck was a rare comet bursting across the sky, this one felt like a supernova erupting in a kaleidoscope of colors and stardust exploding across the expanse of the universe.

Even as he retracted his lips just a bit to stare deeply into your eyes to gauge your reaction, his hand gently cradling your face kept you firmly in place. All you could do was stare at Frank in complete stupefaction. Your lips were fervently tingling and your body felt like it had been struck by lightning. Frank’s eyes were searching yours for an answer he seemed to desperately need judging by the way his other hand lightly squeezed at your waist.

“If I’m crossin’ a line, you gotta tell me now. Cause I can’t go back, sweetheart.”

The tender emotion entwined within his words nearly made it sound like Frank was begging for your answer, and suddenly it all clicked. You could never figure it out before, but now as you stared at him in complete wonder and paid close attention to his display of vulnerability, you were finally able to decode that cryptic look in Frank’s eyes.

Desire.

“I don’t wanna go back.”

That breathless confession was all Frank needed, and he seemed to groan in relief when you surged forward to capture his lips with renewed vigor. Frank was so much more engaged in this kiss, and you took that as a good sign to give in to every single temptation. Before you could even think about climbing onto his lap, Frank was three steps ahead of you, and his large hands were firmly gripping onto your hips and effortlessly pulling you over to straddle his hips. Frank’s hands were everywhere; kneading at your denim covered thighs, gripping tightly onto your waist, carding his fingers through your hair and grasping at the back of your head to keep you as close as physically possible.

You cupped his face firmly in your hands and seductively swiped your tongue along his bottom lip begging for entrance, causing a low growl to resonate from deep within Frank’s chest, and his large hands suddenly squeezed your ass tightly through your jeans while you moaned when his taste met your tongue. The taste of Frank was much sharper this time, and you felt far more intoxicated by him than the three bottles of wine the two of you had consumed together.

Even with your chest pressed firmly against his own, it felt like you couldn’t physically be close enough. You wanted to be entirely consumed by Frank, to completely melt into the warmth of his skin and breathe his essence into your lungs. The synchronization of your lips and tongues molding together was impeccable, and the world outside ceased to exist while the two of you began to unravel one another.

An overwhelming surge of impatience had you nearly shredding his black henley with your nails while you fervently shoved it up his toned chest, eagerly caressing the scarred canvas of his tan skin with your fingertips like you had been daydreaming about doing since that night in the motel. He didn’t hesitate to teasingly brush his thumbs along the sliver of exposed skin above your hips before pushing your shirt up your waist and over your head. While you tore it off quickly and carelessly discarded it behind you, Frank dove in to attach his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, dragging his warm and wet tongue along the column of it before gently biting down on the juncture above your collarbone.

A soft moan slipped past your lips and you instinctively rocked your hips against Frank’s lap, coaxing a deep grunt from his chest. He left a searing trail of kisses along your shoulder, the rough pads of his fingers softly tugging the straps of your bra down your arms before splaying both of his large hands against your lower back to pull you further against his own chest. Frank nuzzled his large nose along your neck and whispered huskily into your ear.

“This alright?”

“Yes.”

Unfiltered lust clouded your vision a deep shade of crimson, and you blindly clawed at Frank’s belt while he continued his blazing path of kisses along your jawline and down your neck towards your chest. All of a sudden, his large hands clasped around your wrists gently to halt your movements, and he pulled back a bit to stare deeply into your eyes while panting slightly.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t no rush.”

“Frank, please.”

The desperate plea that sounded from your lips seemed to ignite a brand new fire within Frank, and your consent shredded that last strand of hesitation that was holding him back. He placed his large hands against your ass and lifted you effortlessly in the air, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Frank easily navigated around the coffee table and slowly knelt down on the fluffy cream colored rug in front of the fireplace, carefully laying you down onto your back. This time when you tugged the leather of his belt away from the buckle, he didn’t stop you, and instead his own deft fingers made lightning work in ridding you of your own jeans.

Slipping one of his hands underneath your back, he easily unhooked your bra with his thumb and index finger, and the second your bare chest was exposed to him, Frank firmly grasped one of your breasts in his calloused hand and took your peaked nipple into his mouth. Your lips parted widely feeling the jolt of pleasure that had you arching your back slightly when he swirled his warm tongue around the sensitive and stiff bud while gently sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast.

The sensation elicited a series of breathless whimpers to leave your mouth, and Frank grunted lowly in response as you rolled your hips upwards in search of friction, feeling the heavy heat of his hardened cock against your lower stomach through the thin cotton of his briefs. It was a marvel you hadn’t flooded the cabin with how turned on you currently were, and this wasn’t even scratching the surface of what Frank was going to do to you. You gripped at his bulging biceps, his broad shoulders, dark tufts of his disheveled hair, anything you could get your hands on to keep him close to you.

Frank began to slowly descend your body, placing his hands firmly on your sides while leaving warm and wet open mouthed kisses down your stomach, even licking a teasing bold stripe above your belly button. The sight alone nearly made your eyes roll into the back of your head and caused you to whine softly, knowing exactly where his next destination was. But as much as you wanted to have Frank’s mouth on you, and God did you want it, you weren’t sure you could stand another second of not knowing what it felt like to have him inside you.

After he slipped your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, you gave his messy cropped curls a gentle tug to get his attention before he could spread your thighs and settle his broad shoulders between the apex of them. Frank glanced up to meet your gaze, his warm brown eyes nearly as black as the coffee he’d consumed this morning due to how wide his pupils were blown open. The hunger eclipsing them caused you to shudder, and you took a mental image of the sight of him nearly naked between your thighs staring at you like a ravenous wolf salivating at the sight of a vulnerable lamb.

“Please, Frank…I need you. I wanna feel you now…please.”

The two of you seemed to be stuck in the same conundrum, caught in tandem between wanting to savor the moment you had both waited so long for, and also wanting to give into the impulses of your magnetizing desire.

As much as you could see in his hungry expression that he wanted to take his time, to devour you slowly and worship every inch of you, the distress dripping from your breathless plea triggered his own raging need, and he silently obeyed while moving upwards again to hover over your body, capturing your lips in a deeply passionate kiss while you ardently pushed his briefs down his hips and off completely. Frank settled between your hips, displacing his heavy body weight by supporting himself on his forearms that were locked on either side of your head. You were completely caged in and at his mercy beneath him, but that was exactly where you wanted to be.

Frank searched your gaze ardently once again for any sign of hesitation, his dark eyes roaming up and down your face before his tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips.

“We can call it here, ya’know? No hard feelin’s. I can-”

Reaching a hand up to gently hold the side of his face, you placed your thumb against his plump lips to cut off the velvet timbre of his whisper.

“Frank, I want this. I want you. But if you don’t-”

“I do. You got no idea how much I do. But…I want it to be right, yeah?”

A gentle smile covered your lips while gazing up at him in complete adoration.

“Doesn’t this feel right?”

Frank’s eyes flickered between your own and he subtly nodded his head, glancing down at your lips briefly before looking directly into your eyes again.

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, and the second he nudged the blunt head of his thick cock within your entrance, a sharp gasp flew past your lips and it felt like all the wind had been knocked right out of your lungs. He groaned quietly and nuzzled his large nose against the column of your neck, firmly grasping at your thigh and pulling your leg up and around his waist while he pushed in deeper slowly, one inch at a time.

While your nails instinctively dug fiercely into the muscle of his shoulders, no doubt leaving deep maroon crescent shaped indentations behind, Frank paused for a moment and snaked his hand down between your bodies, lightly brushing the rough pad of his thumb in lazy circles over your clit to help your body relax. You had been soaked through your panties from the moment your lips met, but Frank’s girth wasn’t one your walls had accommodated before, and he did his best to ease the sting of the burning stretch with stimulated pleasure.

“Frank…”

As soon as your hips connected completely and Frank was fully nestled within your tight heat, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw became completely unhinged as you let out a smooth legato moan. You felt Frank’s body tense above you while he buried his face into your neck, letting out a quiet hiss as he breathed out a shaky deep exhale.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart.”

“Oh my God…Frank-”

“I know baby, I know. Gimme a second.”

You don’t know how long it was before Frank finally started moving his hips. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew was that you had never felt so full and so complete in your entire life.

Letting out a quiet shudder, Frank slowly retracted his hips just a bit before cresting against you once again like a gentle tide. He removed his face from your neck so he could stare down into your eyes to watch your face, and you gazed up at him with wide-eyed passion and marvel. You brought your other leg up to also wrap around his waist and wrapped your arms securely around his neck, trapping Frank against your body just as much as you were beneath his.

Frank reached between your chests with his right hand and gripped his wedding band between his thumb and index finger, tossing it and the chain over his back so there was nothing separating the two of you, just his heated skin pressed firmly against yours. Bringing your hands upwards, your trembling fingers weaved through his hair, tugging somewhat roughly at the messy cropped dark strands on top of his head when he began to languidly increase his pace.

It was like you couldn’t speak. Your mouth hung open while you stared up into Frank’s warm brown eyes that seemed to gleam from the amber glow of the fire, but nothing came out except echoes of the pleasure he handcrafted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, watching in awe as his plump lips parted from panting heavily, his eyes becoming hooded from streams of ecstasy racing through his bloodstream. He gazed down into your eyes in complete adoration, gently stroking his index and middle finger down your cheekbone delicately as you stared up at him with parted lips and pleading eyes.

Frank brought his left hand up to gently brush your hair away from your forehead, cradling the back of your head while his right one came up once again to gently grab your face. Although this time, his index finger rested along your jawline while his thumb and other fingers laced around your throat carefully, which nearly sent you into a frenzy. He leaned in to teasingly slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you with such ferocity as if he craved the very breath in your lungs.

Frank vacillated his hips repeatedly against your own in a steady rhythm, but with a meticulous precision that revealed new depths with your body even you weren’t aware of. Every sensual thrust wound that tense coil within you tighter and tighter, and it was only a matter of time before you erupted into gratified pieces of confetti. Reaching a shaky hand up to grip onto the back of his neck, your fingertips vibrated as they brushed over the close shaven hair on the back of his head, and you pulled him down forcefully for another deeply passionate kiss.

Only when your lungs began to burn due to lack of oxygen did you finally break apart. He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, gazing so deeply into your eyes you swore he could see right into your soul. You stared back up into Frank’s eyes as yours became glossy due to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure you were experiencing. His coarse grunts and reverberating groans echoing in your ears had your toes curling, and as your mouth hung open in silent begging, you nodded swiftly with an expression that let Frank know you felt it too.

“Please…please…”

That familiar bubble of euphoria was starting to expand wider and wider within your lower belly and you weren’t sure how much longer you had before it burst. The way Frank fit perfectly within your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, and you were stuck on the cusp of never wanting it to end, but also wanting to see just how far it could go. You had never been with someone that seemed to be so finely in tune with your body, or that genuinely cared about your satisfaction, but Frank was treating your pussy as if he had designed it specifically for himself. The realization of knowing you wouldn’t have to finish yourself off later like you had to with your exes was a welcomed relief, but not knowing what brink of indulgence Frank was about to catapult you over was exhilarating.

“Frank…Frank…”

“S’alright, baby, I know. Let me have it, yeah? C’mon baby, let go for me.”

A soft whimper slipped past your lips. You were so close, and God you wanted so badly to jump head first into the free fall. But a tiny part of you felt frustrated because you wanted to witness Frank free fall too. You wanted to see him let go, hear his praises of your name, and be coherent enough to feel Frank lose himself.

But you would have to wait your turn, because Frank was sending you barreling towards the edge of an orgasm with every punctual and powerful snap of his hips, and you had no choice but to surrender to the heat of his body enveloping yours in a cocoon of pure warmth and safety.

Frank grabbed both of your smaller hands and laced your fingers together, giving them a tight squeeze as a tangible reminder he was right there with you. He pinned them gently on the soft rug above your head, his pace becoming a bit sloppy as he began to lose his own composure.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see them pretty eyes, c’mon. Let me see ‘em.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open until you physically couldn’t, wanting to witness every second of Frank’s own impending climax contorting his features as he fought to control himself until you were ready to let go.

“There ya go, attagirl. Let go for me, sweetheart. S’alright, let me have it, yeah?”

A symphony of his name played from your lips at a steady crescendo until it filled the entirety of the cabin, and all at once a flash of white exploded behind your eyes as you free fell through space and time, floating in a cloud composed of Frank’s honeyed praises of your name and delicate sweet nothings. You’d given yourself powerful orgasms before but you had never felt something so intense as the delectation Frank created. It felt like you were floating between the astral space between Heaven and Earth, and you weren’t sure you could find your way back to your physical body again.

There was a faint amber glow flickering across your closed lids, and as you slipped in and out of coherence, you felt soft lips delicately pressing against your forehead and the edge of rough fingers gently stroking along your cheekbone lovingly. You didn’t want to move, you weren’t even sure if you could, but there was one thing you did want.

“Frank?”

The voice that resonated in your ears was fuzzy and distant, and it didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. A strong pair of arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you in from your stranded orbit closer towards where you were meant to be, and Frank’s soothing gruff voice quietly dripped a sacred promise into your ear.

“M’here.”

The hypnotic lullaby of his heart’s rhythm tethered you back to the dreamlike reality of Frank holding you against his chest, and that was all you needed to slip away under the blanket of stars that were dancing behind your eyes.

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