#pedro pascal stories | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pascals-doll · 2 months

Text

like a virgin

joel miller x reader

🫧 inspired by madonnas like a virgin MY MADONNA CONCERT IS COMING UP I-

🫧 i always make my writings for joel so long but i love this man smm i could write all day for him it dont even b on purpose 😩

🫧 description: pre-outbreak!joel, babysitter!reader, reader babysits sarah, semi-fluff, DILF JOEL DILFFF, age gap (joel is 36 and reader is early 20s), smut smut, SMUT SMUTTT, dom!joel, softdom!joel(ugh i need so bad),sub!reader, hella praise kink, reader and joel are obessesed w each other tbh, secret crushing, body worship (reader reciving/ slight joel), pussy eating, possessive!joel, unprotected sex, p in v sex, hair pulling (j recieving), tommy is a teasing p.o.s 😭, no use of y/n, use of nicknames (sweetheart, darlin, and sweet girl).

you stepped into the miller’s residence weekly to babysit his daughter Sarah, she was the sweetest teen girl. she reminded you a bit of yourself when you were her age which was probably the cause of the instant connection.

you had been baby-sitting for almost 8 months now, leading to getting closer to Joel; Sarah’s dad.

Joel was more than a hunk of a man, he towered over you even with your heeled mary-janes at times, his broad build engulfing all his clothing making him look like a slutty construction worker with his roughed up baggy-blue jeans thats sinched around his waist perfectly.

you would be lying if you wouldn’t oogle the man while his attention was pulled onto something else. you would watch the way he talked so sweetly to Sarah, yet when it came to a phone call, his neighbor, a stranger or his brother, Tommy that would occasionally stop by.

Joel would have this assertive and unruly tone underneath that thick southern accent. he was a man that paid close attention in his life which is why he has allowed you to take care of his daughter with so much trust.

you would never know it but Joel cherished you and the things you do.

Joel would show it in very discreet ways, today was a prime a example.

“m’havin a famiy cookout later t’night, why don’t you head on home to rest, so you can come back to enjoy with us.” Joel invitied you with ease as you began to grab your belongings from his coat-rack near his front door.

you grabbed your purse, walking towards the sound of his voice which was right around the corner. Joel was standing in his wide living room.

“it would be more than my pleasure. thank you for everything again. im always very appreciative for sarah and you” you thanked him sweetly, eyes meeting his.

he stood next to his large bookcase that had an assortment of different books, personal objects, some cds/dvds, and his vinyls.

joel picked up a vinyl, sliding out of the slot in the shelving of his bookcase, pulling it out of the envelope, and placing it on the record player.

yet another instance, where you accidentally ogle him.

“the real thank you should be t’ya. im adjustin’ to single parentin’ and ya’ been very accommodatin’, thank you.”

your kind demeanor was the sweetner to his coffee.

you were now home, getting dressed to return to the Miller’s residence.

usually when you’re babysitting, you dressed lazily. you would put on a random shirt and jeans or sweats.

you wanted to cleanup a bit more, knowing it wasnt just going to be you and sarah most of the day; Joel would be there.

you threw on this cute blue floral sundress that was mid-length, it stopped right below your cross necklace.

you finished up by pairing it with white frilly socks with mid-heeled black flats.

you didn’t put much makeup on, only putting the basics before doing any last touch-ups and grabbing your black mini-purse.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

once you arrived, opening the gate and greeting a few of the people that were sitting on the porch before entering through the front door.

the sound of chatter got louder as you walked through his home. you turned around to the corner and his living room was empty but his kitchen was cluttered with different food and grill necessities.

you thought to yourself how they must be outside, you began to walk farther into his home till the back where the sliding door to his backyard was.

you began to slide the door open “oh my!! you came!” sarah squealed out of excitement, she came from restroom door next to the side of his sliding door.

you immediately engulfed the excited girl that ran into your arms “i wouldn’t miss it for the world, girl!” you exclaim while smiling.

“c’mon! my dad is outside grilling!” sarah spoke excitedly. she grabbed your hand as you opened the door and walked outside together.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

“d’ya invite that sweet babysitter of yours?” Tommy asks joel while seasoning the steak “i did, i hope she comes-you know, for sarah and all” Joel tries to play off with his words.

“oh my brother fancy’s someone, i see” Tommy chuckles out, putting his beer bottle up in the air slightly.

“i do not fuckin’fancy that young lady. she’s gone above and beyond for my daughter and i just wanted her to feel welcome” Joel explains himself, his tone laced with angry yet getting his explaination a across a bit hastily. Tommy’s eyebrow quirks.

“don’t say nothin’ else” Joel utters out in a stern tone, grabbing his cold corona as Tommy puts his hands up in defence.

Tommy turned his head, not the best decision as it made his amusement grow fonder. he turns back to Joel.

“well, ya’look at that brother” Tommy slys out, throwing a wink at his older brother before making his way back to his wife Maria.

It was you and sarah approaching, Joel actually choked on his sip of beer.

you were beautiful, Joel wasn’t an oblivious man.

Joel, himself even thought it was impressive how easily you cleaned yourself up by just some jeans and sweatshirt; at times just a shirt.

tonight was different, very different.

Joel finally has seen you outside of your different hoodies and pants.

he couldn’t begin to comprehend as you and sarah got closer and closer “Dad! she made it” sarah calls him out in excitement.

you finally approached him next to his griller which caused him to immediately snap out of his gaze.

Joel gave you his hand to shake “thank you so much for having me” you thank him, sweetly accepting as you began to shake pulling you in for a soft side hug.

you were right beside him, feeling the heat of the fire from the grill on both of you.

in Joel’s eyes, up close, your beauty was now beyond otherworldly. your light blue sundress bringing out the color of your eyes, the way your hair fell on your shoulders, and your jewlery sparkiling the tone of your skin.

you looked so elegant, yet you still managed to keep it simple. your winged liner making you look more mature than just the light mascara you would rush onto your lashes before getting out of your car on babysitting days.

Joel couldn’t begin to wrap it around his mind how you could possibly look so pure yet you were a woman. a hard-working one at that.

he knew that. it was something that made him desire you which felt so wrong.

“anytime, ya deserve to be apart of the family-shit! ya’already are” Joel goes off a bit nervously after ogling you. you gave him a soft smile.

“did’ya need help with the grill?” you quickly perk in as the fire began to sizzle a tad bit louder than usual “ah shit!” Joel exclaims, flipping each of the steak.

“careful now, brother! dont burn ‘em!” Tommy calls out, laughing with a devious smirk as he approaches again with cooler in hand.

Joel grumbled something under his under his breath as he focused on the grill.

“nice to meet you, i’ve heard s’much about you! I’m Joel’s brother, Tommy.” the younger brother introduces himself.

you give him your hand to shake “It is nice to meet the uncle tommy” you joke out causing sarah to giggle with you.

Joel couldn’t begin to explain the beauty you carried within you.

he was sure that if a god made you, it was Hestia and Aphrodite.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

the evening was pleasantly spent by you getting to meet maria and her pregnant belly, congratulating her.

then once it was time to serve the dinner, you helped Joel and Tommy by moving the grilled food off of the grill.

this consisted of Tommy making jokes that had slight insinuating under-tones that you were too naive to pick up but laugh everytime Joel would punch Tommy’s shoulder roughly, not being playful at all.

you helped bring in the food as sarah set up the dining table. once everything was set up and everyone sat down to eat, Joel’s grilling being beyond splendid.

when dinner was over while everyone cleaned up, you went to use the restroom.

you finished using up the restroom which is how you were now in Joel’s living room.

you began to admire his large bookcase from where he stood earlier to invite you.

you skimmed through, your hands softly going over the objects as you observed his books, framed pictures, his collection of dvds, and then his vinyls.

you had a record player of your own, sometimes sarah would ask you to play bon jovi and tell you where the record was.

Joel had an impressive collection, ranging to every genre of music. he had some legends on vinyls like Bob Marley, Johnny Cash, Lionel Richie, and Madonna.

you immediately picked up the Madonna vinyl, it was her second album ‘Like a Virgin’.

you grew up with your mom adoring Madonna more than anything which explains your adoration for her music.

“I was in highschool when i first heard Madonna” a deep voice spoke through the room, behind you.

you automatically knew it was Joel, turning around still looking at the tracklist on the back of his vinyl “this is my favorite album besides Like a Prayer” you say as you walk up to him, smiling.

“you weren’t even born yet” Joel laughs out causing you to jokingly get offended.

“excuse me, i know my Madonna” you joke back, giving him a playful wink which he just gave you a slight chuckle too.

“she say she know she Madonna, ay?” he gives you a slight smile, opening up his record player before inserting the vinyl.

soon enough the record player began to ring a classic 80s pop beat through the room.

you automatically felt yourself slightly popping your leg with the beat and snapling your fingers slightly.

“go ahead, Mr.80s” you state smiling, inviting him to dance “oh no, i-don’t dance” Joel quirks out awkwardly, now standing nervous.

Joel admired your confidence and comfortabilty in your skin, you were so young and full of life while also being so sophisticated and methodical.

you grab Joels hands and began to playfully sway with him.

Oh, like a virgin

Touched for the very first time

Like a virgin

When your heart beats next to mine

🫧

you sang the melodious lyrics under your breath. you felt your breath hitch as you locked eyes with joel, being in his grasp.

you could feel your body burn up in his strong hold, his heavy hand on the small of your waist.

your breath hitched causing your chest to push up against his chest. this felt so right, the way his hands held your body and each of your curves.

🫧

You're so fine, and you're mine

Make me strong, yeah, you make me bold

Oh, your love thawed out

Yeah, your love thawed out

What was scared and cold

Joel made you feel more than a woman, you were so polish and refined, yet so sophisticated and mature while all-looking ever so young and full of life.

he felt a bit of confidence which made him twirl you around, engulfing you into his embrace again with one arm; your back to his chest now.

you swore the sound of the song was slowly drowning out and now the sexual tension was ringing through the both of you.

you could feel his heartbeat thump against your back as his hands rubbed both sides of your waist to the rythem of your delicate sways.

you leaned your head back against his chest, his scent being the only thing on your mind.

you felt him begin to caress your hair with one hand as it left your waist.

“you’re s’beautiful, hope y’know that” Joel could blame it on his 5 beers but 5 beers wasn’t shit for Joel, he was very conscious of his choices.

the compliment sent shivers down your spine as you swore your knees grew limp momentarily.

you turned around, your thigh now inbetween one of his legs, chests pressed against each other, his hands gripping your hips now, and faces inches away from each other.

your lips were parted, you really were debating on kissing the beautiful hunk of a dad infront of you.

fuck it

just like that, within no time your lips were moving like you both had never kissed anyone before.

the song continuing to play as the both of you makeout in his living room while everyone was outside.

the way his hands ran through all of your body like he had never touched anyone, your lips pulling away to catch your breathe momentarily like you had never been kissed like that before.

Joel completely ravished you.

hell…now that he had you, he wasn’t gonna let go now.

“m’room darlin’” he mutters against your lips, before completely scooping you up bridal style. it caught you slightly off guard, gasping which made Joel smack your ass playfully.

“oh, aren’t you a gentleman?” you joke, your arms were wrapped around his neck.

“oh, don’t’cha worry sweetheart” Joel smirks out as you arrived to his room.

he laid you on his bed, going down with you while on top of you. he began to move his lips from kissing you to your neck, pulling down the small straps that held your dress.

each kiss that Joel placed on your body felt like a burning sensation, making your insides erupt with giddiness.

you felt like this was your first time all over again. your mind was racing, heart was nervous, and body was clamy.

and it was all because of Joel.

you weren’t sexually active at all recently, you were so busy with work, about to graduate with your masters, and even babysitting sarah; spending more time at the Millers than on dates.

you did go out but lord were the guys of this generation a bunch of sluts.

“what’s on your mind? am i doin’ somethin’ wrong?” Joel’s rushes out accidentally, not wanting to sound nervous but he did.

you weren’t only one feeling like a bad teenager doing this for the first time.

Joel smelled your perfume and that was all it took to get his mind racing. he couldn’t begin to fathom how he finally got to have you.

the way his big frame craddled yours sent him into overdrive, his heart going a million miles per minute as he tries to figure out where to even begin.

for you, it might’ve been a year but for him, it was almost like ages with the years he’s gone.

all Joel’s mind could do was think of all the things he could do to you.

“Joel-hmph” you couldnt help but whine out as his hands massaged closer and closer to your arousal.

“there there sweet girl, you ever been with a man?” Joel asks, lifting your dress up, exposing your angelic white panties.

Joel was damned forsure for the filthy thoughts you provoked out of him.

“n-no, i have never—they were idiots.” you felt so small under him, feeling overwhelmed like it was your first time all again.

at this point, you could’ve considered yourself a virgin with how Joel had you and how much of a man he was.

“you ain’t gon’go lookin’ f’someone to take care of that pretty lil’mind, not after im done with’ya.” Joel claims to you.

you believe every single word laced in his southern accent; making your cunt pulsate wantingly.

“is that what you want to do, Joel? take care of me?” you ask him, lifting your leg to spread yourself open more as you wrap it around his lower waist; basically resting on his thick thigh.

the way you looked at him through your lashes, batting them softly. it was a genuine question, laced with purity and hope.

“if you’ll allow me too-” Joel began, pulling down your panties. you expected him to unbuckle his belt next but no; he got on his knees.

your chest weighed up and down heavily, each of his touch making your body hot.

“it’s my only wish for taking care of me and sarah” Joel finishes before hooking both of your legs up onto his shoulders, his tongue wasting no time.

you didn’t even get a chance to respond, a moan erupting out of you being the only thing.

the way he ate your pussy like he didn’t just eat a whole meal downstairs had your back already arching.

Joel’s tongue swiped along all of your cunt, fucking your sweethole “jesus, ya’taste fuckin’ delicious” Joel mumbles against your pussy as his tongue quickens all along your juiced cunt.

“ahmph!” your shriek sounding like music to his ears, if he didnt have his family downstairs, he’d have you screaming.

“quiet fa’me, doll” he says, taking a hand to cover your mouth as before diving back in.

joel’s tongue fucks into your hole this time causing you to let out a muffled moan against his big hand.

the way that man was eating your pussy, tainting your pussy with his spit, marking it all as his drove you insane. there wasnt nothing this man couldn’t do.

“god! j-joel!” you muffle out, your hands go to his roughed up brown hair, pulling on it causing him to groan into your dripping pussy.

you felt yourself getting closer and closer, your pussyhole squeezing around the tip of his tongue.

“this pussy s’perfect- s’all fuckin’ mine.” Joel spits out once he pulled away from your pussy, denying you of your orgasm.

your mouth was agape in pleasure but then quickly falling into a pout “don’t worry darlin’, my baby will cum…on my dick” Joel’s voice is sweet like honey now as he leaned down to connect your lips together.

you taste yourself on his lips, mixture of his spit along his lips causing you to moan at the mix of both of your filth fogging your mind.

the way both of your lips moved in sync perfectly was beyond intoxicating for joel. he swore he could get addicted to just at the look of you but at this point, both of your lips had him drunk.

he had shimmied and kicked off his pants while making-out with you. he was completely taking over you once again, your body turning small under his big one.

“are you ready, sweetheart?” joel asks delicately, pulling away from your lips to look at your eyes.

you told him yes, leaning up to take his shirt off which he happily obliged.

you had only seen his toned arms but it was obvious he had a strong build. he might’ve not had a six-pack but lord were his muscles chiseled like a greek god.

“you gon’ drool over an old man?” joel utters out, his hand going in to caress your hair.

“oh baby, you’re beyond fine wine.” you whisper. your forehead’s connected, lips away from kissing, and looking him deep in his chocolate eyes.

Joel could feel his breath hitch at what you said, you already had him wrapped around your finger as he worshipped you.

Joel thrusted himself into you, he couldn’t even fucking believe how tight you were.

“jesus- god, this pussy s-ah fuck!” joel’s groan was almost animalistic as your mouth fell as if you wanted to scream but nothing came out.

Joel’s cock was a size you’ve never had before, it didnt hurt but oh, did it stretch.

“s’big-oh my!” you moan out loudly, eyes rolling back at the feeling of him delectably stretching your pussy out.

“you got it baby, you got it” he praises you although he was too busy trying not too pass-out because of your cunt.

after a small moment of adjusting for the both of you, he began to thrust into you at a slow pace.

you arch into him as your whimpers and soft moans turn slowly work their way up to louder and heavier moans.

joel worked himself into you, his mind not being able to get enough of all of you. he still had to process that he really had a young beautiful woman with the heart of a home in his bed.

joel completely held your body with one hand, eventually putting a hand over your mouth again once his sweet thrusts turned into pounds.

your body shaking against his with each of his rough and hard thrusts, fucking your name out of your mind and replacing it wirh his.

your muffled little cries of his name “Joel! joel-ah! j-j! j-joel!” sounding like a sweet lullaby to him. he couldn’t help but smirk at your teary eyed-self.

you werent even worried about ruining that pretty liner of yours as he fucked into you.

“shh my baby, you’re taking me so well” joel coos out, caressing you hair before leaning down to plant kisses and suck on your chest.

your hands grip his bed sheets as your body begins to shake in pure sensual bliss that joel brought you, making your mind fog up as the build up of your orgasm is almost virginal.

“ya’look so beautiful like this-” praises left joel’s lips left and right, loving and indulging in every single one of his praises as he fucked you to your orgasm so sickeningly good; leaving the both of you intoxicated.

“you was made fa’me, not no one else.” Joel’s eyes were shut now, completely lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

it was almost like a prayer, a hopeful chant, almost a possessive plead.

joel had wanted you just as much as you wanted him “yes! god yes! m’close! it’s y-yours! all yours!” your pleasure-filled babbles as your mind gets drunk of joels cock and overwhelming orgasm.

“let go, darlin’ ” Joel works you through your orgasm, hips going from pistoling into you to the delicate pace he started off with.

your entire body shook as both of your sweaty hot bodies embraced each other through both of your orgasms.

the room filled with heavy pants and moans as his hand left your mouth and began to massage your hair.

you both held each other, not wanting to let go of each other.

“i understand what madonna meant by ‘like a virgin’ now” you giggle out causing a playfully scoff to come from him.

“alright alright, we need t’get dressed and head back down. would ya’ want to stop by tomorrow after i drop sarah off at school?” joel asks, his chocolate eyes now ridden of lust and replaced with soft hope.

you were about to tell him yes but another voice spoke before you.

“are you fucking done?! fuck! i can’t keep stalling Sarah and Maria!” it was Tommy.

2K notes · View notes

writersblog20 · 1 year

Text

Hotel room and Mario kart

Pedro Pascal x reader

Credits to the gif maker!!!

Summary: When you’re traveling around the world with Pedro to promote your new tv series, but you were exhausted. You still had your studies, work and the promoting while traveling and it was just a matter of time when everything started to catch up to you, leaving you overworked and exhausted but luckily Pedro comes to the rescue.

Warnings: not proofread to any mistakes are my bad😅FLUFF, Being exhausted and overworked, mention of being overwhelmed, mention of vomiting, feeling like shit physically, Pedro being the sweetest and taking care of you. Fluff. Pedro with his Ipad.

Words: 4,4K

Hotel room and Mario Kart.

It were some tough couple of days. You were on the road with Pedro Pascal to promote a new series where the two of you would be a love interest. Before you started filming, you already had a crush on the older man but through filming it just developed more and more and you fell in love with your co-star. This was your big break through and you didn’t want to mess that up. Not only were you working on the new series, giving interview that just tired the both of you out but you were also in the midst of your (very busy) studies with a lot of assignments.

Even though your lessons were on the other side of the world, you followed them through zoom calls and what not. To make matters just a bit worse, you had exams already so you were stressed, extremely exhausted and tired and tried to hang on for dear life but today was just not that day and Pedro noticed it.

You were sitting in a different hotel for the interviews and as soon as they switched the interviewers, Pedro turned towards you while your make-up artist tried to touch up her work since the bags underneath your eyes and the visibility of your clenched jaw were very much noticeable.

“You okay sweetheart?” he asked you, since you answered all the questions with a tired voice. You tried to act okay but Pedro knew. He always knew. He knew how rough things got for you, also having some arguments with your teachers, giving you shit because why not? You were just done and were almost on the edge of tears. You just wanted to sleep, that’s all. You put all of your energy (What was left) in your smile and nodded but Pedro just raised his eyebrow.

“How many do we have left?” Pedro asked the assistance, wanting to bring you back to the hotel and force you to sleep. “We have 5 left.” She answered. Pedro looked back at you, worry visible in his eyes. “Listen, if 5 is too much for you, then we’ll call in sick.” Pedro gave you an out but you just shook your head. “No, I can handle it.” you told him and this time he nodded. “Okay. But if it gets too much, you tell me okay princess?” you smiled softly and this time it was a real one. Pedro placed his arm around you and pulled you in a side hug, giving a kiss on the top of your head.

The new interviewer walked in and gave you both a hand before sitting down. Pedro kept his arm around the back of your chair, his fingers softly drawing patterns on your back for comfort and reassurance. His body was slightly turned towards you. You had fun and that was really because of Pedro. You and him had such a wholesome relationship, making everyone in the fandom go feral about the two of you. But to be fair, he was the kindest soul you’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. He took care of you and looked after you but it got more at the point when you felt like you couldn’t do it on your own anymore. Pedro always, always had your back and stood next to you, holding your hand and facing whatever challenge you had coming your way. You would always do it together and you knew that he was here to stay.

After the last interview, you walked out of the hotel. Pedro’s arm around you and holding you close to his side. “I’m so proud of you mi corazon.” Pedro told you but you were too tired to react so you placed your head on his shoulder for a second and your arms around him. He stopped walking since you were giving him a side hug and he turned his body completely towards you, placing his arms over your shoulders and pulled you into a tight hug. His hand was on the back of your head and he placed a kiss on top of your head. He waited until you got out of the hug and when you did, his arm was around your shoulder again and your body tightly pressed against his side.

Pedro was so extremely worried about you. He saw how exhausted mentally and physically you were. The two of you always had some kind of physical contact but now even more. Pedro did not want to let go of you, scared that if he did, you might fall apart. Never in his life did he ever wanted to take care of someone this much. I mean obviously he was a VERY caring person but it was next level when it came to you. He felt so protective of you and wanted to safe you from all the bad in the world.

There were a lot of photographers outside of the hotel when you tried to get into the car. Everyone yelling your name or Pedro’s. You were so overwhelmed from everything around you that you felt yourself grow dizzy. Pedro noticed your instability and quickly looked at you, worry glazed over his face. “I feel dizzy Pedge.” you warned him and he quickly nodded. He wanted to get you into that car and he wanted it fast before you might pass out or something. Your whole body was shaking and your legs felt like jelly but not in a good way right now. The assistant and security backed the paparazzi off and created a path towards the car but the flashing lights just made you more dizzy. Pedro took your hand in his and he felt how much you were shaking. His heart started pounding from anxiety, worry and a slight panic when he saw how bad you were doing. He loved you but could hate how much you pushed yourself and how stubborn you could be. It was destructive behavior and he did not condone that.

He finally got you into the car with blinded windows before he got in the car at the other side. You tried to catch your breathing when Pedro’s whole body turned towards you. He gave you a slight unamused look at you, knowing that it was way too much and you didn’t told them your boundaries right now. But there was no time for being unamused. He helped you with your seatbelt and sat next to you. Pedro sat so close to you that you were sure that not even air could pass through. His arm already around you and pulled you into his side. You rested your head on his shoulder, his hand already on your head, massaging your scalp. “Try to close your eyes and get some sleep sweetheart. I’ll wake you up when we're at the hotel” Your hands were clung to his pink sweater. “I can’t really sleep in a car.” You told him, knowing from past experience. Pedro softly nodded “Then try to relax a bit baby girl.” You felt yourself flustered at his words and stared through the window from the driver.

Not even 5 minutes later you were completely passed out on Pedro’s shoulder. It was true that you weren’t able to sleep in a car but apparently not for this day. Pedro looked slightly at you so he wouldn’t move to much and wake you up. He saw you completely knocked out, slightly drooling on his sweater but Pedro didn’t mind it at all, happy that you finally got some much needed sleep even if it was just for a couple of minutes. The sweetest smile covered Pedro’s face like a sunshine when he saw you asleep on his shoulder with a bit of drool. He decided to stop at a store to get all of your favorite snacks and have a nice, relaxing evening.

Pedro didn’t want to leave your side but wanted to buy you some stuff so he carefully got a extra sweater that was in the back and placed it against the window so you had some sort of pillow. You stirred a bit but still asleep. Pedro carefully got out, the driver staying with you while he quickly went in. Pedro just placed everything in the shopping basket that he thought that you might like. He came back with two fully packed bags and got back in the car.

After 30 minutes or so, you finally arrived at the hotel and Pedro carefully woke you up. You woke up, utterly confused to where you were or what was going on while you looked at your surroundings. Pedro chuckled at your confusion as you quickly wiped away the drool. “Let’s get you upstairs so you can sleep some more baby girl.” he told you while helping you with your seatbelt. You were still in some sort of sleeping or dreaming state cause you had absolutely no idea what the hell was going on but followed Pedro blindly.

“Wait here princess.” He told you as he got out of the car and walked to your side, opening the door and helping you out. His assistant carried the bags while Pedro supported you with walking since you felt very weak. Finally you arrived at the hotel room. Your room was opposite Pedro’s and you got your keys out but Pedro softly placed his hand above yours. You looked confused at him. “You’re staying with me for a while so I can look after you.” he told you. You noticed that it wasn’t even a question or leaving room for debate so you just accepted it, way too tired and still confused. All you knew was that you felt a bit nauseous, probably from the lack of sleep and your body was catching up to you now.

Pedro opened his room and helped his assistant with the bags. “Can you clear her room maybe and transit her over to my room so I can keep an eye on her?” He asked her “Will do Pedro. I can get her stuff now and place them here.” She proposed. Pedro nodded and thanked her.

You didn’t hear anything from their conversations while you crawled underneath Pedro’s covers. The blanket didn’t cover a lot of your body but you were seriously too exhausted to even move, beside you were afraid that if you moved too much right now, that you might throw up. His assistant left the room while Pedro walked towards you, his eyes softening when he saw that you couldn’t even get the covers properly up. He got the covers and pulled them properly over your body, tucking you in. “Can I get you something sweetheart?” he asked you softly when he walked to the other side of the bed so he could see your face.

“Can I have some water and painkillers? I don’t feel so good.” Pedro’s face was written with sympathy. “Of course princesa, I’ll get it for you.” he told you and kissed the top of your head. You wanted to close your eyes but the nausea got worse when you did so you did what you thought was the best and that was: Laying as still as you possibly could.

Pedro came back with the water and painkillers. He could see from a mile away that you felt horrible with the minute so he took your sleeping pills with him. It was a necessary evil right now but you needed rest and sleep. Your body needed it. “Can you sit up for me princess?” He asked you when he sat next to you on the bed, his hands softly rubbing your back that was turned to him. You tried what Pedro asked you but as soon as you moved you felt it.

You quickly stumbled over Pedro who was confused but caught on quick. In between all the chaos, there was a knock on his door. “Come in!” Pedro yelled, knowing it was his assistant while Pedro followed you but you were so quick to reach the toilet. When Pedro sat behind you, he rubbed your back slightly and held your hair back. He was crouching behind you while you threw everything out. His assistant looked where the two of you were and it was only until she reached the bathroom. “Oh dear.” She spoke softly and felt sympathy for you. Pedro looked at his assistant with worry in his eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple of seconds sweetheart.” Pedro softly told you, making you nod.

Pedro stepped out of the bathroom and saw that his assistant brought all your bags in already. Pedro looked back at the bathroom and guided his assistant more to the side for some privacy. “Please cancel the interviews tomorrow. She really needs a day off and get some sleep because this is getting out of hand.” His assistant agreed with him, seeing the state you were in. “Yeah, I will. There still a lot of things left to do so try to get her better.” She more asked him than told him. Pedro looked back and nodded.

“Call me if you need anything! I’ll get it in no time, you know that.” Pedro nodded again while looking back at the bathroom. He really wanted to return to you right now. “I’ll probably need some things but I’ll text you that. I want to go back to her right now.” She nodded and whished him good luck before exiting the room so Pedro could go back to you.

You were still over the toilet when Pedro crouched behind you again. “I’m so sorry that you feel like this baby girl.” You nodded while wiping away some tears. You felt mentally drained and physically exhausted so crying right now was the most logical thing that you did. You felt like you were done and flushed the toilet. Your whole body was shaking from exhaustion. “Can you get my toothbrush please?” you could hear how weak you sounded. You had nothing left to give anymore. “Of course.” Pedro was quick on his feet and fumbled through your bags before getting it out and walked back to you.

Pedro helped you to get up and sat you down on the bathroom counter so you didn’t have to stand. “I should take a shower.” you told him, feeling disgusted. Pedro nodded but was worried that you didn’t have any energy left in you. “Do you need or want help with that?” he asked you softly. You shook your head “I’ll think I’ll be okay.” Pedro nodded “Yell if you need help or whatever okay? I’ll get you some clean clothes.” You nodded and Pedro walked out of the bedroom. He figured that between everything you might not have the energy to wash your clothes so he gave you some clean and comfortable sweats, a shirt and a hoodie from himself.

Pedro knocked on the bathroom door, announcing himself before stepping in. “Thank you so much.” You told him but you sounded bleak. Pedro gave you a soft sad smile “I’ll be right next to you if you need something so just yell okay?” you nodded and gave him a weak smile. Pedro closed the door and gave you some privacy.

You stood underneath the shower and it didn’t make you feel much better but at least you didn’t feel disgusting anymore so that was a win. Luckily, you did wash your panties and everything so you put that on with still shaky hands and pulled the oversized shirt from Pedro on your body. You felt more and more exhausted to the point that you just asked Pedro for help. You never liked asking for help. I mean you were always on your own and found it hard to let someone into your space but with Pedro it felt different. It felt safe and comfortable and that was something you’ve searched for your entire life.

“Are you okay princess?” Pedro asked you when he heard you ask for his help. “Can you maybe help me?” you felt a bit embarrassed to ask him but you really had no choice left. “Of course, can I come in?” he asked you “Yeah” you responded simply. He opened the door and saw you sitting on the closed toilet, struggling with the joggings from so much shaking. Pedro walked over to you without saying anything and got the sweats from your hands. He looked at you for permission and you nodded, accepting how it is now.

“Place your hands around my shoulders princess.” He told you and did what he asked. You stood up, clinging to Pedro while he pulled the sweats on. “These are very nice, thank you.” Pedro smiled at you and gave you a kiss on the top of your head. “Do you want to wear the hoodie in bed or do you just want the t-shirt?” Pedro asked when you sat down again. “I’d like the hoodie as well.” Pedro smiled again and helped you in it. “You do skincare right?” you nodded with a smile that he remembered from what you’ve told him a while back. “Let me help you with that.” You nodded and repositioned on the bathroom counter again.

He already found all of your skincare since it was in the same bag as your toothbrush. He looked at all the different things confused and back to you, making you chuckle. “This one first.” You pointed and Pedro nodded with a soft chuckle. He applied it to your face with so much softness and gentleness that you thought your heart was going to explode. He repeated that process until it was done. “There we go mi amor. Is it better?” he asked you, making you nod with a soft smile and placed your arms around his shoulders again for a hug. You didn’t know why but you really wanted him to hug and cuddle you right now. Pedro was quick to apply and pulled you in a hug too, kissing your forehead, which was burning up.

“Let’s get you into bed and get some painkillers in you.” You nodded and Pedro held his hand out for you to take, which you did. You followed him to the bed and crawled in, feeling completely exhausted and already as if your body morphing into the mattress. Pedro got you a water bottle and your painkillers and sleeping pills. You saw them and immediately agreed. It was better to just take it and make sure that you were sleeping. So you took them and laid down. Pedro crawled in next to you. He already held his arm up so you could crawl against him. “Do you want to watch anything?” he asked you. You felt a soft smile creeping up on your face. “Could we watch Moonknight?” Pedro gasped dramatic. “Are you exchanging me for Oscar????” you chuckled. “No way! Never. I wouldn’t dare. Besides… you have baby yoda but I don’t think you want to watch the Mandalorian.” Pedro chuckled. “We’ll watch whatever you want. Even if that means I still have to look at my own face or well… helmet in this case.” You smiled at the sacrifice he was willing to make for you. “So what do you want to watch?” he asked you, “Moonknight please” you answered while your head rested on his chest. He kissed the top of your head and searched for the series.

When he found it, you both got comfortable. You held on more to Pedro and your head resting against his shoulder and partly chest. Pedro held you tightly. One arm wrapped underneath you as he drew circles on your back with his hand and the other arm wrapped over you. Both cuddled up together and finally the painkillers and sleeping pill kicked in. You focused on Pedro’s calm breathing and the sound coming from the tv when you fell asleep.

~time skip~

You woke up after a couple of hours and heard some soft sounds coming from besides you. You groaned, feeling horrible. Your whole body ached but you knew that it finally came up because you were resting. You turned around at the sound and found Pedro playing a game on his iPad with earbuds in. He looked at you when he felt some movement besides him. He got his earbuds out. “Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?” he asked you with a soft smile. “Horrible. Everything hurts right now but I guess that was to expect.” Pedro’s smile turned sympathetic.

“Well, we have a whole day and night tomorrow off so you can catch up on some sleep.” You frowned a bit confused “Don’t we have a couple of interviews tomorrow?” you asked him. Pedro shook his head. “Not anymore. You need rest and it’s not as important as the other stuff so we’re both going to take a day off and you’re going to let me take care of you.” he told the last part a bit stern but guilt was written over your features. “If you’ll let me. you’ve been working way too hard and we both could use a day off. Besides, I can use you as an excuse now.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood which worked because you got a smile creeping on your face while you swatted his chest softly. Pedro chuckled.

“Want to order room service or something? I don’t know how the nausea is right now.” You smiled softly. “It’s gone now and I’m starving.” You told him both chuckling. Pedro got up to get the menu of the hotel and plopped back in his spot besides you. You let your head rest against his shoulder as you both sat up, looking at what food to order. “I think I’ll go for the pizza.” You told him and Pedro nodded. “Yeah that sounds good. I’ll think I’ll go for a pasta or something.”

After ordering and eating the food you plopped back into bed. Pedro wanted you to stay in bed but you decided to just eat your food at the table so it doesn’t mess up the bed. Besides, you wanted to move away from the bed for a minute. “So…. I might have bought something fun…” Pedro told you, making you look up in curiosity. “I bought it for myself and my nephews but I think we can play it already.” Your curiosity peaked. “What is it?” you asked him and he got a switch out. You chuckled “Of course you bought it.” you laughed, remembering how his iPad is his life and now he got a switch as well but you loved it.

“I got Mario Kart as well.” he told you and you smile brightened. “Should we play it?” you asked him with a mischievous smile “Should we?” he asked you with the same smile. You sat a bit back in your chair and hummed. “I think we should.” Pedro got excited and you both got up, trying to set it up and after 15 minutes, it finally worked. You both held your arms up in the air from celebration and plopped back on the bed. You laid down on your stomach while you chose your character. Your feet wiggling behind you. Pedro looked at you and chuckled before laying down next to you in the same position.

You started playing the game and both started to find it very addictive. You’ve lost a couple of times and won a couple of times. The two of you switching positions now and then to get more comfortable as you let your head rest on his stomach. In a break, you looked at your phone and saw that it was already 1 AM. You chuckled but knew that the two of you needed sleep.

“Pedge... It’s already 1 AM. We should call it a night and continue tomorrow?” Pedro smiled “Yeah sounds like a great idea.” You both took turns in the bathroom before laying in the bed again. You laid face to face. “I might buy some new games tomorrow.” Pedro thought out loud. “I actually think this was a great purchase.” Pedro smiled “Right?!” you both laughed and whished each other goodnight before turning around.

But you still felt energetic even though you were exhausted. You just couldn’t seem to get some sleep right now and stared at the ceiling when you turned on your back. Pedro was already laying on his back and apparently unable to sleep too. He looked over at you, to see if you couldn’t sleep either. “Can’t sleep either?” He softly broke the silence. “Nope. You neither?” you asked him and he shook his head. “Want to watch some funny videos?” you asked. “Always helps me sleep.” You continued but Pedro had the biggest smile on his face. “I can add this to my list of many reasons why I like you.” He told you, already sitting up to put a light on. You chuckled and sat up as well. You searched through Youtube and found ridiculousness. “Ohh I love this! I used to watch it back home.” You told him and Pedro didn’t need to hear more to press play.

You cuddled back against Pedro and he got comfortable as well. You both laughed at the show and the people in it. “This is amazing.” Pedro said, making you agree. “Thank you Pedge. For today and just in general.” Pedro looked at you with a soft smile. “for taking care of me and stuff. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t around. probably have a panic attack or something.” You chuckled out uncomfortably. “You are more than welcome. Thank you for letting me take care of you. I know that was out of your comfort zone.” You smiled. “Well, I trust you. don’t think I ever trusted as much as I trust you.” Pedro felt himself grown emotional just a bit but covered it up by pulling you into a hug.

You didn’t know how many episodes passed when you both fell asleep in each other’s arms. The following day, you both purchased a new game and played it the whole day between some naps and ate a lot of snacks that Pedro got the both of you from the store a day ago. It was a perfect day off and everything felt a bit lighter. You knew that it wasn’t over and so did Pedro but this was a step in the right direction and you knew that if you were unable to keep your boundaries, Pedro would help you. It would be all okay as long as Pedro was besides you and he wasn’t planning on leaving you.

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal cute #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal oneshot #pedro pascal stories

2K notes · View notes

morallyinept · 7 months

Text

Welcome to my Pedro Pascal Character Writing Masterlist.

©️ All my writing is protected by an officially registered copyright. I do not give you permission to copy, redistribute, translate, plagiarise, post elsewhere or feed my work into AI software.

Enjoy rummaging around here. I hope you find something you'll like! 🖤

Scoville Smut Ratings🌶️

MAIN MASTERLIST | PEDRO BOY RAMBLES | JETT'S DOODLES

Buy me a Ko-fi ☕️ If you like my work and enjoy what I put out there, you have the option of buying me a Ko-fi, if you'd like to. It's never expected, but always greatly appreciated. 🖤

See my specific Pedro Boy character lists below 👇🏻

Ezra Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

Dieter Bravo Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Dave York Masterlist

Lucien Flores Masterlist

Max Phillips Masterlist

Agent Whiskey Masterlist

Javi Gutierrez Masterlist

Detective Tim Rockford Masterlist

Din Djarin Masterlist

Pero Tovar Masterlist

Fancy a small read? My GIFLETS™️ are 500 words or less, and feature a variety of the Pedro Boys, including smut, fluff & a mix of F! M! & GN! Readers.

Multi Series & Collections Masterlist A mixture of Pedro Boys in story collections.

My Pedro Boy Rambles Masterlist Includes themed cocktails, head canons & fun with the Pedro Boys.

349 notes · View notes

pedroslittlelady · 3 months

Text

Does anyone else go through cycles of reading Pedro’s characters?

Like one week or month I’m fixated on Joel, then it’s Din, then it’s Javier Peña, and now it’s Frankie. Who’s next? Probably Dave.

This has been going on for a year straight now, and I’m still not close to being done with any of them!

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal stories #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #dave york #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #the mandalorian #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut

172 notes · View notes

softstarlite · 3 months

Text

Se nos rompió el amor

CHAPTER 2

Summary: You thought your love was strong and could conquer everything, I guess you were wrong...

Warnings: implied age gap, talks of pregnancy, angst, mention of options facing a pregnancy.

Rating: +18

Word count: 1.9k

Chapter 1 / Masterlist

Divider by @saradika

A/N: here you guys have the second chapter!! Hope you like it, and let me know your thoughts about it, love you amores <3

You knock on the door of the only person that feels right to go to right now, for various reasons, you know her for starters of course, she lives in an apartment owned by the US government as well, so it is safe, she knows what is like to have problems and arguments with your partner because of their DEA job and she also knew what wanting to protect your child was like.

You knock once more and wait for a few seconds, but the nervousness in you wins this battle and you knock again a little harder now. When Connie's tired and confused face comes into your vision after she opens the door, you can physically feel a weight being raised from your shoulders by the thought of not having to walk the Colombian streets by night all by your own.

Connie says your name as a question “honey, what are you doing here?” that's when she sees your face and sees the tears and the red nose from having blown your snot earlier “what happened? Are you alright?” her arm immediately embraces you and pulls you to the inside of the apartment, guiding you towards the couch.

You cry into her shoulder for a few minutes without needing to tell her why. That's when you hear walking behind you, you look towards the sound and see Steve with tired and a teary eyed Olivia, resting on his hip with her father's hand on the back of her head, who had woken up because of your knocking.

As soon as he sees your crying face he opens his mouth “Is Javi okay?” he asks with a lace of worry and readiness in his voice. You nod your head and he nods back in acknowledgement then he turns around saying “i'll give your guys space…” then he goes to Olivia´s nursery with her to try and put her to sleep again.

“I'm sorry for waking Olivia up, Con” you say between sniffs.

“It's okay honey, she'll get plenty of sleep in her life and she would have probably woken up in half an hour by herself, she's teething” she tells you while she rubs your upper back in comfort. She doesn't push you to talk about what is happening or why you are in their apartment at this ungodly hour.

After some minutes of you crying and sniffling with her comforting you, you blurt it out “I'm pregnant Con…”

You turn your head over your shoulder when you feel her hand freezing on your middle back, you see the surprise look in her eyes and how her mouth is open like she wants to say something but the words don't come, instead she embraces you, cradling your head in her hand like a mother would do.

“Oh honey…” she almost whispers so low that you don't hear her over your sobs.

You stay in their apartment for two days, making Steve swear that he wouldn't say a word to Javier about it, talking non stop about your possibilities from her nurse perspective, about what you want to do and how to do it.

The late afternoon of the second day is when you make your way downstairs on the apartment building and enter your shared one with Javi. When your gaze looks up from your hands opening the front door, a surprised squeal comes out of your mouth and your key free hand comes to your chest, over your heart. You weren't expecting Javi to be there on the couch, his back perched into the back of it, his fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose and a glass of whiskey in his hand. As soon as he hears the front door closing behind you, his gaze meets you and in less than two seconds, he's putting the glass on the coffee table, standing and striding towards you.

You let him take your face between his hands but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, he wasn't supposed to be here, he never is at this hour.

“Tesoro, oh my god, you´re fine” he says with relief, his eyes going over all your features “I'm so sorry for everything i said mi amor, hablemos tranquilos por favor (let's talk calmly please)”

Before he has any chances of making you doubt your already made decision, you take his wrists in your hands and look into his eyes “Javi, i'm here to pick up my things…” you see hope leave his eyes and pain come to them.

“What?! No, tesoro, no, you can't. I was drunk and work has been hell lately, that was all, we can talk, we can fix it” he says while his eyes travel from one eye and then the other of yours again and again.

“I've already bought a ticket for the states…” you say with guilt, even if you knew that what you were doing was for the best “you´re welcome to join us” you continue talking when you see the desperation in his face “but i already know what your decision is going to be…” which makes you feel even more heartbroken.

“Tesoro, you-you know i can't walk away from all of this” you knew he was talking about the narcos not the pregnancy “I need to finish this” he indirectly pleads with you to stay, trying to reason why you should.

“And you should know that i have to walk away from all this” you finally pull his hands away from your face; once they're back at his sides, you release them like they're hot iron “I can't raise a kid or even just have it while being surrounded by so much violence, and not only outside of this apartment but also in it, you´re angry all the time because of the violence outside of this safe place. Javi, lately i´ve been living with a person that when he's not angry, he's an emotional ghost…”.

Before he has any opportunity to respond to you, you walk fast towards the bedroom; you pull a suitcase from under the bed and you start to fill it with clothes and other necessities. Javier appears on the doorway of the bedroom, his eyes follow your every move around the room, he wants to say anything that would make you stay, but even his heart is telling him that you´re doing the right thing. By the way you expressed your plans, he knew you had already your mind set on having the baby, and if that was your decision, he supported it and he even supported even more your decision of wanting to get that baby away from all the violence; but the part of him that loves you from the very moment his eyes landed on you that day on the market, can't even fathom the idea of living day by day without your presence everywhere around his, that part wanted to be selfish and convince you to stay. He didn't even consider the possibility of leaving the DEA and going with you, it just wasn't an option, it was so important for him to put Escobar behind bars or a bullet between his eyes, he needed for his sacrifices and violence to have a meaning…

“Where are you going?” he asks with a colder tone now, not sure if it was as a way of protecting his heart or yours by making your decision easier for you.

He knew you had left the states when your last living relative, your dad, died; you sold his house, put his belongings in an storage unit and then started your travels around the world, you had been in a few countries before coming to Colombia, and you had planned to stay here just for a month before you met him and you both fell for each other, he was the one that flirted his way through the embassy to get you a visa to stay in the country with him when you made the decision to stop your travels to be with him.

“I'm…I'm going to Laredo…” you say, stopping your packing to look at him. “I've already book a hotel for a few days while i look for an apartment there, i thought that it would be better for the baby to be close to the only close relative they'll have apart from us…” you have already met Chucho before, you and Javier had travel to Laredo once when the embassy forced him to take some days off because they didn't want to face a problem with HR; you had loved the old man, so similar to the man you love in many ways, and his presence always made you feel like having a paternal figure close that reminded you so much of your own father… Since then you have responded to many calls that were originally direct for Javier from his dad but that turned into at least an hour of you talking with Chucho.

Javi shakes his head immediately “No, hermosa, no te vas a quedar en ningún apartamento (no, beautiful, you´re not staying in any apartment). I'll call pops and you´ll stay on the ranch, that way if you need anything or something happens, i'll know that pops is there”

You´re the one shaking your head now “Javi, I don't want to trouble your dad, no sería justo (it wouldn't be fair). This is my mess, I'll deal with it” you finish putting the last item that fits the suitcase and then you close it.

You hear him scoff then say “Tesoro, that man has been asking me for a nieto or nieta since i turned 30 and he also loves you already like a daughter, he'll be thrilled to hear about…your state” he clears his throat “but even more to have you on his house. He won't be that thrilled with me though” he says the last part in a whisper to himself.

You´re conflicted with the offer but when your mind debates it, you only think of your future kid and how it would be better for them to have as many people that love them close to them. That's when you nod and say “okay, while i stay in the hotel, that i´m not wasting away after already paying for it, i'll go visit him and we'll talk, okay?” you don't even know why you want to ease him, you should be infuriated with him, not only for what had happened two days ago but also for the fact that he was deciding to leave you and your kid by yourselves.

He nods and that's when you pick up the packed suitcase and start to walk to leave the apartment, refusing his help with the luggage when you walk past him. You make it to the front door, with you hand on the doorknob, you turn your head towards him and he gives you a encouraging small smile that you answer with a firm nod, then you turn back to the front door and finally leave.

That's how yours and Javier´s worst part of your lives start.

155 notes · View notes

honeyedmiller · 7 months

Text

Pedro Pascal one shots & requests

* indicates smut. 18+, minors do not interact.

one shots:

Dirty Thirty*

The Night Before

Birthday

When it Rains

requests:

Take Care

Just the Way You Are

The Interview

Trials and Tribulations

Roasted

Precious Moments

Pranked

Expecting the Unexpected

#pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal masterlist #Pedro pascal request #Pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal stories

91 notes · View notes

luvrxbunny · 3 months

Text

spot the difference

spoiler alert: there isn’t one

41 notes · View notes

handspunyarns · 1 month

Text

Days Twenty-Two to Twenty-Six, Part III.

pairing: din djarin x plus-size fem!O/C

word count: 13K

chapter summary: Din and Marathel repair the Razor Crest, Marathel takes her first sonic shower with interesting results, Din tries to change Marathel’s mind, the Razor Crest gets unexpected visitors.

warnings:  angst, heartbreak, female masturbation, voyeurism, mention of blood, menstruation, chldbirth, mental illness and infertility, English and Mando’a cursing

***Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work. ***   

You Were Marked: Masterlist

You Were Marked: <- Previous Chapter

Marathel was in a deep sleep, curled up with Grogu on Din’s bedroll, when there was suddenly a loud ka-thunk, and everything quickly shifted sideways as she rolled into a hard surface. She opened her eyes to near-darkness, except for glowing tiny lights of red and green. Disoriented, she felt around her, and her hand fell upon little Grogu, who grabbed her hand tightly. “What the …” she muttered, and then she heard running footsteps and a loud pounding on the door.

“Wake up, Marathel! We got problems!”

“Wh … What?”

“We just fell out of hyperspace! Come out here!”

Marathel shook herself awake and reached up to press the door button. The door slid up, and she pulled herself out to see Din crouching by a panel halfway down the corridor. “What’s happened?”

“Get down here, I need your help.” Din had been awake for a while, and he had replaced his armor and was in the process of putting his weapons on when one of the power banks had failed. Marathel came down to where he was. “Grab that corner, there.” Marathel took hold of the panel where Din was pointing as he finished unlatching it. She wasn’t prepared for its weight, and her corner hit the metal floor with a clonk, but she wrapped her fingers around the panel edge and helped him slide it down the wall.

That task done, Marathel stood behind him as Din knelt to tap tiny screens above each component in the rack. “Haar’chak, the whole thing’s down.”

“Are we in danger?”

“We will be, if I can’t get this up and running again!” Din stood and began taking off his blasters.

“What should I do?”

“Just … stand right there for right now, and don’t touch anything!” he snapped as he pulled off his pauldrons and cuirass. “Hate this damned thing,” muttered Din as he sat on the floor and began squeezing himself into the small access crawl space to get behind the power bank. Marathel stood silent, unmoving. Din continued to curse and mutter as he folded himself into a working position. “Ah … fuck me, the whole damn thing is wired wrong!”

“Fuh!” shouted Grogu.

“Grogu, I told you to cut that out.”

Marathel was confused. “Didn’t Peli just repair this ship? Why would she wire it wrong?”

Din sighed. “Well, she didn’t wire it wrong, she wired it correctly, and that’s the problem.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Din chuckled. “I guess not. A while ago I had to jerry-rig this wiring and the ship flies better with the adaptation. The wires are hooked up to the wrong cart components, and it finally tripped itself. I have to pull all these wires first, then you’re going to pull the carts as I rewire it, okay?”

“Okay,” said Marathel, not sounding okay about it at all.

“Just sit down there in front of the panel, I’ll let you know when I need you.”

Marathel sat, listening to Din grunt and quietly curse to himself as he did whatever he was doing. “Did you get any rest?” she asked.

“Don’t talk to me right now,” said Din. “I’m trying to not electrocute myself.” Marathel sat silently. Grogu toddled over to join her, and she held him on her lap as they waited for instructions. “And yes, I got some rest. Are you all right?”

Marathel shifted slightly, then swallowed. “Yes.”

Behind the power panel, Din coughed to cover up his discomfort, then said, “Okay, we’re going to work from your left to your right. Grab the handles of the first cart and pull it out halfway.”

Marathel grasped the handles and gave the thing a tug, but it didn’t move. “What’s halfway on this thing?” She pulled again, much harder, and the whole thing pulled out of the wall and landed on the floor.

Din sighed. “Half of what you just did.”

“Did I just kill us all?”

“Not yet. Just put it back in, halfway, and wait for me to get the right wire connected.” Marathel did as he instructed and waited. After a short while, Din said, “Okay, slide the cart back in fully.” Marathel carefully pushed the cart back in, giving it a hard shove to seat it correctly. “Did lights come on?”

“Yes.”

“What does the screen say?”

“Screen?”

“There’s a small screen in the middle of the cart. What does it say on the screen?” Marathel was silent. “Marathel, just read what’s on the screen!”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t see the screen?”

“I can’t read, Din, I told you that!”

There was a long silence. Din groaned quietly. “She can’t read.” Din chuckled, and Marathel heard his helmet clank against something. “Yes, you told me, I forgot. Okay, change of plans.” Din shifted around and began pulling himself out from behind the power bank. “You need to do the rewiring, then.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Each wire goes between two metal plates that you use this screwdriver to tighten.” He handed her a small tool with a flat end. “Go on, get back there.”

“What makes you think I’ll fit? You had a hard time squeezing in there!”

“You’ll fit just fine. Now get going before we lose backup power.”

Marathel glared at Din, but she put the screwdriver in her pocket and fed her feet into the small access opening, as she’d seen Din do, and began pushing herself through. “I have no idea what you need me to do back there.”

“You’ll figure it out by the time you’re done. You only have … um …” Din counted on his fingers as he said, “‘Bad Boys Rape Our Good Girls But Violet Gives Willingly, Got Some’ … twelve. Twelve wires.”

“Bad Boys do what?”

“‘Bad Boys Rape Our Good Girls But Violet Gives Willingly, Got Some.’ It’s how I remember the wiring colors. Black, blue, red, orange, green, green, blue, violet, grey, white, gold, silver.”

“You said green and blue twice.”

“They’re different wires. You’ll see.” Marathel grunted in disgust, and Din swore he heard her mutter osi’kovid under her breath as she struggled to get back behind the panel. “What did you just say?” asked Din.

“I called you an osi’kovid!”

Din chuckled to himself. “Do you even know what that means?”

“I know it’s nothing good.” Marathel looked at the tangle of wires before her, then at the bank of metal plates. She looked carefully at the connection of the black wire that Din had completed. “So blue is next? Which blue?”

“It’s solid blue, not the striped one. You have to put the end of the wire where the coating is stripped off, put that end between the two plates, and tighten the screws to lock it down.”

“I’ll do my best.” Marathel found the solid blue wire and pulled it loose from the tangle. The bare end touched another wire’s bare end, and Marathel felt a zzzt sensation that was painful. “Aigh!”

“Don’t let the ends touch,” said Din.

“Now you fucking tell me!” snapped Marathel.

“Fuh-EE!” shouted Grogu, and Din shushed him.

Oh, good, the ‘child repeating swear words’ days are upon you, Bounty Hunter, have fun with that, wryly thought Marathel. She carefully placed the wire end between the plates and placed the flat end of the … screwdriver, that’s what he called it … into the slot of the screw head and turned it, but the tiny screw fell to the floor with a ting. “Oh no …”

“You must have turned the screwdriver the wrong way. It’s lefty loosey, righty tighty.”

“What?”

“Turn the screwdriver left to loosen the screw, and right to tighten it.”

“I can’t find the little screw. It fell out.” Tears filled her eyes, and Marathel sobbed. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Bounty Hunter …”

“Marathel …”

“I’m going to kill us all …”

“Mesh’la, honey …” — honey? Where did that come from? — “It’s going to be fine. You can do this. The screw is on the floor right in front of you, I guarantee it. Just take a breath and look for it again.” He heard Marathel sniffle, then take a shaky breath. He pulled the cart halfway out and waited. After a few moments, he heard her whisper righty tighty. “Tighten the top screw a little, then the bottom screw a little. Go back and forth to tighten then evenly. Make the connection good and tight.” He waited a few moments. “Got it?”

“I think so.”

“All right, then,” said Din as he slid the cart back into its socket. Moment of truth, he thought, and the readout screen flashed its green message: Override Ready. “You did it, mesh’la, good job.”

“Next one is red, yes?”

“Yes,” replied Din as he slid out the next cart.

“Red for rape,” said Marathel as she carefully found the red wire and inserted it into place. “‘Bad Boys Rape Our Good Girls,’” she scoffed. “I think you need a different way to remember this.”

“Come up with one, and I will.”

“Oh, I will.” Din heard Marathel grunt softly as she concentrated on her task. “There. Done.”

Surprised, Din said, “That was fast.” He slid the cart home and override ready flashed. “Green next. Light green.”

“Light green …” repeated Marathel as she untangled the wires, and she shocked herself again. “Aigh!”

“You need to be more careful,” said Din.

“You’re the one that left me this tangled mess, you … cigpell pudyn!” snapped Marathel, attaching the light green wire.

“And what does that mean?”

“It means meatball dick!”

Din burst out laughing. “Meatball … meatball?” He was laughing so hard he snorted. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

Marathel grumbled as she tightened the tiny screws. “Light green is done!”

Still laughing, Din reset the cart and got an error message. “No good, try resetting the wire.”

“The wire is fine,” said Marathel, gently tugging the wire.

“Not from where I’m sitting. Try it again.” Din listened to Marathel mutter under her breath as she loosened the wire. “You may need more wire lead. Peel back some of the green covering and reset it.” Marathel did as Din instructed, but he still got the error message. “I don’t know what, Marathel, but you’re doing something wrong.”

Of course, it’s my fault. “Are you sure it’s not supposed to be the dark green wire first?”

“Positive.”

Marathel sighed. “Can we try the dark green wire, at least?”

Din sighed as well. “Fine. Go ahead.” He pulled out the cart again. “And you, of all people, know that my pudyn looks nothing like a meatball.”

“It might after I throw a big enough rock at it,” said Marathel archly. “Okay, try it now.” Din replaced the cart. “Well?” Din was silent. “Was I right?”

“Yes,” he muttered.

“Okay, then. Now it’s the light green wire, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And who is a cigpell pudyn?” asked Marathel with as much snark as she could muster. “Well?”

“… I am.”

Marathel chortled. “Good boy.” She continued down the row, replacing the wires in order as Din replaced the carts. When they got to Violet and the purple wire, Marathel asked, “So, who’s this Violet who Gives Willingly?”

“No one. It just works in the phrase.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Can’t help that,” said Din. There was no way in Frith he was going to tell her that while her name wasn’t Violet, a particular prostitute he had been fond of at one time had a magnificent head of purple hair that set off her deep, dark green skin. Damn, she was fine, thought Din, wondering where she was these days.

Marathel rolled her eyes, but she carried on with her task. Din had been right, Marathel got very proficient with the screwdriver by the time she was tightening up the gold and silver wires, and she felt quite proud of herself. Well, Marathel, old girl, not half bad.

Din, on the other side of the power bank, felt pride on her behalf as well — Marathel wasn’t lacking in intelligence; she could follow instructions and tackle new tasks, was willing to get her hands dirty — and he was sure that the nimbleness in her hands and fingers would make her a great assistant mechanic. What a team we’d make, thought Din, and his heart warmed with the possibility. “All right, Marathel, good job. Now I’m going to fire this thing up.”

“You are? Am I safe back here?”

“More or less. Just don’t touch anything.” Before Marathel could protest, Din flipped the switches, the power bank turned on, and the engines came to life with a dull roar. “Dank ferrik, yes!” crowed Din. “Okay, you can come out now! Don’t forget the screwdriver!” Marathel rolled her eyes as she put the screwdriver that she came in with — as well as two more she found under the tangle of wires — into her pocket, and she began to wriggle out from the tiny crawl space. Din reached in to help pull her out, and he gave a strong tug on her just as she pushed hard on a girder with her feet, and Marathel tumbled into his lap as he fell backwards.

She looked up at him in surprise as she lay on his legs, her face at level with his belt buckle. Din continued to hold her hands as he gazed at her, mostly reclining on his elbow, thinking how damn cute she looked with engine smut on her face and hands, her hair and clothes disheveled. Marathel’s face colored that becoming shade of pink that he liked so much as she pulled her hands free and rolled off his legs to sit on the floor. Din sat up too, and gently put his hand on her back. “You did good, Marathel. I’m proud of you. I would have hated to do that job by myself.”

Marathel handed Din all three screwdrivers. “How would you have done that?”

“Ugh. I would have had to crawl out each time, after connecting each wire. Terrible.” Din grunted as he stood up and reached down to help Marathel stand. “You got a little dirt on your face,” he said, touching her cheek with a gloved finger.

Marathel shied away, saying, “I’m sure I did. It’s filthy back there.”

“Engines generally are.”

Marathel hummed vaguely as she moved to the basin at the far end of the ship. Din watched as she found the soap and a towel and poured out a tiny bit of water from her canteen into her hands. “Marathel, what are you doing?” asked Din, confused.

Marathel dropped the towel on the floor as she stepped back from the basin, dropping her head, sliding her hands into her sleeves. “Washing my hands,” she whispered.

“You’ve been using your drinking water to wash your hands?”

“I thought that was all the water I was allowed,” said Marathel, pointing briefly at the canteen.

“That’s for drinking. You may drink as much water as you wish. You haven’t been drinking your water?” Din came over and lifted the canteen; it was still nearly full. “Is this the same water I originally gave you? It’s easy to get dehydrated on long hyperspace hauls. You should be drinking more, Marathel,” Din said sharply.

“I didn’t know …”

“Drinking water is there for the taking, just like the food, Marathel! You don’t have to hoard or conserve drinking water! There’s a basin in the fresher to wash in that’s hooked up to the water recycler …” Din watched Marathel continue to cringe into herself. “… which I never showed you.” Din sighed. “I didn’t show you the fresher, or where the cleaning papers for the vac tube are, or where I keep the spare blankets, for kriff’s sake.” He noticed her shoulders shaking, and he realized she was crying. “Oh, mesh’la, please don’t cry …” Din went to her and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m sorry I’m so stupid,” whimpered Marathel, keeping her arms tightly against herself, refusing to hug him back, despite how much she ached to do so.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m the stupid one who’s been rude and insufferable to you. Everyone I’ve ever known automatically knows where to find everything on a ship like this, and it never occurred to me that you wouldn’t, although, why would you know? The only time you’ve been on this ship for any length of time, you were injured. Unconscious.” Din sighed and rocked her back and forth as he quietly said, “I’m sorry I’m such an osi’kovid.”

Marathel sniffled, then asked, “What does that mean?”

“Shithead.” Marathel chuckled, and Din continued, “And I’ve also been a … what is it? A tymffod. What does that mean, mesh’la?”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, I’ll take that. And a cigpell pudyn, if that helps. And a knob, too, I heard that one from you, earlier.” Din held her tight and stroked her hair, glad to know that he could again safely hold her like this without acting like a sex-starved maniac. “Marathel, ma’mwsh ha’laa, I wish … I wish you’d just … stay right here, or anywhere else, other than ...” Din’s voice trailed off.

Marathel swallowed, then pushed Din back, wiping her cheeks, and looked down to her feet. “I appear to have grown a Grogu again.”

Din looked down too, still surprised by the shoes on her feet, seeing Grogu holding tightly to Marathel’s ankle. He sighed. Apparently, the moment of closeness with Marathel was over. “Come here, kid,” said Din, bending down to pick up the boy. “Did you take good care of Mahr last sleep cycle?”

“Mama,” said Grogu.

“Mama,” repeated Din.

“We slept well until everything went sideways,” said Marathel.

“We’re back up and running now,” said Din. “Let’s get this panel back on.”

“Okay. Oh — before we do that …” Marathel dropped down her knees by the access hatch, reached in, and pulled out a square of black insulation foam. “I found this just lying in there. May I use it?”

“Of course,” said Din, assuming she’d use it to sit on while she knitted. That was why it was in the access tunnel in the first place, to sit or kneel on while he had to tinker around in there. Together they got the panel back in place, then Din said they needed to strap in to get back into hyperspace. Marathel climbed the ladder first, giving Din another view of her ample backside as she went up, making him wish that they were in a romantic relationship, on good terms, just so he could playfully smack her on that lovely ass. This thought left him with a wistful feeling as he followed her into the cockpit with Grogu. Marathel was seated and struggling with the straps, so he knelt before her, placing Grogu in her lap, carefully untwisting the restraining belts and snapping them closed, letting his hands slide off her thighs as she stared at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t do that,” she whispered, not frightened of him, but of the thrill his touch sent through her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, even though he wasn’t. He stood and went to his seat to recalculate the jump to hyperspace, wondering in the back of his mind if she needed to lock herself in his quarters again, as he felt like he was already at half-staff. He looked back at her. “Ready?”

“Ready,” said Marathel with an uncertain smile.

Din turned back to the console and pulled the throttle, sending them shooting forward in space. Marathel felt her stomach change places with her liver and wondered if she’d ever get used to this hyperspace thing. Once they were settled in their path, Din undid his safety straps and stood, saying, “Much better. Thank you for helping out. Okay, let’s go back down.” He released the catches on her restraints, letting his hands linger briefly on her hips before descending the ladder.

Marathel followed with Grogu. “I hate this ladder already.”

“Believe me, I avoid leaving the cockpit as much as possible,” said Din, and Marathel chuckled to herself as she thought, I guess he does piss for distance. Din pressed a pad on the wall next to the power bank panel, and a door slid open, revealing another tiny room. Din stepped inside. “The fresher. Here is where you can switch from sonic to the water option.”

“Sonic?” Marathel also stepped inside the fresher and had to stand close to Din for both of them to fit.

“Sonic means the fresher uses sound waves to remove dirt and oils from your skin. The water is recycled, but it doesn’t get very hot, and it’s not hot for long.”

Marathel looked dubious. “Which would you prefer I use?”

“It’s up to you. I generally use the sonic setting, and then wash my face with warm water in the basin. It can get gross in the helmet from time to time,” said Din with a shrug.

“Well, I guess I’ll follow your example.”

Din nodded and opened the storage bin. “Here is facial soap,” he said, handing her a tube. “Did you want to wash your hair, though? The sonic does okay for my hair, but I keep my hair short … as you saw,” he added quietly.

Marathel pulled a handful of her hair over her shoulder and looked at it. “I’ll see what the sonic does for me.”

Din found her a clean washcloth and a small towel. “Okay, so it’s set on sonic, and you just have to press this button here to start. Then you stand over the drain, there, and the cycle will run for a few minutes. It’s on a timer, so if you’re not clean to your satisfaction, you can just press the start button again. The button below that opens and closes the door.” Din stepped back to the doorway. “There’s no lock, but I’ll take Grogu with me back to the cockpit and close that door. You’ll have complete privacy down here. Did you need anything else?”

Marathel shook her head. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Din took Grogu back, catching some of her hair as he did. He untangled her hair from his glove and smoothed it over her shoulder before he stepped out of the fresher.

“Oh, by the way …” said Marathel, and Din turned back to her. “‘Beautiful Blossoms Rise Over Green Grass, Blooming Vines Grow With Good Sunshine.’”

Din tilted his helmet. “Do what?”

“‘Beautiful Blossoms Rise Over Green Grass, Blooming Vines Grow With Good Sunshine,’” repeated Marathel. “To remember your wiring by.”

Din smiled widely under his helmet. “I like that much better. Just knock if you need anything.” Marathel nodded, and Din and Grogu returned to the cockpit.

Marathel heard the cockpit door close, and she poked her head out of the fresher to look. Not seeing either Bounty Hunter or a little boy, she found her bag and brought it to just outside the fresher. She pulled off her top and pants and folded them into a neat pile, then went to quickly use the vac tube, tossing her used pad into the tube before toggling the contraption. Thank Frith, it seems I’m finally bleeding less. Returning to the fresher, Marathel carefully removed the dilator from her and placed it in the basin so she could wash it after her shower. Or would it be called a sonic? she wondered. Marathel pressed the button to close the fresher door, then she pressed the button to start.

Right away, she heard a low vibration and felt it in her bare feet. Marathel stepped over to the drain as Din had directed. She felt the vibrations growing more powerful, and she could see the dirt leaving her hands, almost as a swath of sand would blow off a flat rock. She marveled at this, and she felt the vibrations as a massage that trembled through her entire body. The vibrations became stronger and faster, and they seemed to center low in her belly. After a short time, the vibrations grew even more powerful, and the sensation became warm and pleasurable as Marathel gasped, realizing she was becoming aroused.

Oh, no, she thought to herself. No, I don’t want this! But her body betrayed her as the vibration of the sonic shower continued to titillate instead of soothe. Marathel reached down and pressed her hand against her pubis, seeking a release from her stimulation. When that didn’t work, she flattened her front against the cool metal wall of the fresher, which only worked for a few moments as her feverish heat warmed the wall. Her breasts began to ache, so she pressed them harder into the unyielding metal as she reached between her thighs, gently sliding her fingertips over her clitoris. She gasped again, this time with a throaty groan, and she clapped her free hand over her mouth. Oh, Frith, what can he hear in that cockpit?

Din had, in fact, heard her groan; the auditory capabilities of his helmet were quite powerful. The fresher was also situated almost directly below the cockpit, and sound carried through the floor. Over the years, he’d become accustomed to the fresher being the official wank closet and the noises that would emanate from within the times he’d be traveling with someone. On several memorable occasions, he’d traded visits to the sonic shower for a bit of companionship from female bounties (and a couple of male ones, too, he wasn’t too particular if someone wanted to make it worth his while). But he’d heard — through that unreliable horny mercenary grapevine — that sonic showers could provide some females with sexual stimulation. And this was the first time a woman was in there where he’d heard her possibly masturbating.

Din looked back at Grogu, who was quietly occupying himself with the gear knob and a ball of Marathel’s yarn, using the Force to make them fly in complicated patterns. Din looked back out the view screen, pulled his flight notebook onto his lap, and turned up the receiver in his helmet. Concentrating his hearing on the room below, he listened to what he believed was Marathel touching herself, wondering if it was only the sonic waves bringing her off, or if she were as frustrated as he was, being so close together, denying the feelings she had for him.

And oh, Marathel was frustrated, and confused as well; why was she having these desires, when they should be the last thing on her mind?! But she kept pressing her breasts against the wall as her hand stroked herself, softly, gently, not even attempting penetration, for she was still so fragile and wounded there; she did not think she would be able to bear that, not only physically, but mentally as well. As her fingers continued their playful touches on her bud, she began to rock her hips, gasping in tiny, quiet moans. She kept rocking, the motion setting off delicious twitches inside her as she flexed her muscles in her hips, belly, and buttocks, and her fingers strummed her swollen clitoris. Oh, you taught me, Din, you taught me well, how wonderful this feels! I wish it were you touching me like this; if you were, I would pleasure you in any way you wished, I would make you bread for eternity, I would trap myself in the smallest flying metal box for you. Her twitching hips moved more frantically as she began to crest into her orgasm. She slid her free hand up her body and began gently tweaking her nipple, making her gasp again. She squeezed her thighs and tried to flex her pelvic floor — a hitherto unknown part of herself, brought to her attention by Eliadu — as hard as she could. Her other hand alternated tapping and stroking her clit until she finally tipped over the edge and climaxed; her mouth worked noiselessly, and her eyes closed, her knees bent, and her fingers pressed hard against her clitoris, feeling her pulse within, counting the beats of her rushing heart.

The sonic vibrations of the fresher slowed, and then stopped. Marathel finished riding out her orgasm with a last breathy gasp, and she sank to the floor, relishing its coolness against her flushed, warm skin. Breathing hard, Marathel rolled to her back, stretching out her limbs.

In the cockpit, Din felt like the most lecherous type of voyeur, eavesdropping on Marathel below. He’d just taken another look back at Grogu, and the kid was crashed on the seat of the aft chair, snoring softly. Under the guise of adding entries into his ship’s written log — he preferred writing them out in longhand —he listened to Marathel touching herself; Marathel, who was so recently brutalized at the hands of others, giving herself pleasure with her own hands. Her gasps were quiet and small, leading him to think that she was using the gentlest of touches, the softest of strokes of her fingertips against her delicate skin. The notebook on his lap concealed his erection, and he wished he could stroke himself to the sounds Marathel was making, but Grogu’s presence made that infeasible. Oh, Marathel, I wish I were in there with you, touching you myself, I would be so gentle, and touch you only where you allowed, with only the lightest, the most tender of caresses, I wish we could be alone, where I could give you such soft touches until you came for me, and you could scream my name as loud as you want to, mesh’la! He wanted her to be a screamer for him, a blanket-stealing, bread-baking, soft, plush, magnificent screamer of a lover, he was certain that she was coming in the room below him, coming hard like she had every time with him, and he was close to coming himself when he heard her moaning, but in pain.

In the fresher, Marathel’s breathing slowed and she began to feel chilled in the small room. She had carefully sat up when she felt a cramp rip through her lower belly, and she moaned as quietly as she could. Oh, no, not now, not my cycle, why am I not done with that, as old as I have learned that I am? She fell back to her side, waiting for the next wave of cramps that would inevitably come, pain that would fold her in half, unable to move.

But that sort of pain didn’t come. There was pain within her, but not in the muscles of her abdomen. The pain seemed lower, deeper inside. Marathel looked down at herself, expecting blood, and there was blood, but not the amount she was accustomed to with her cycles. She felt her muscles quake again, and she moaned, and then she felt the need to push, that there was something within her vagina that she needed to expel.

What in Frith was happening to her?

Fennec had told her she wasn’t pregnant, Eliadu had told her that she couldn’t get pregnant, yet, here she was, trembling and moaning on the floor, feeling as if she was about to give birth to something, for the sensations she was feeling within was unlike but somehow strangely similar to all of her previous cycles, when she would pass clot after clot …

There was a knocking on the fresher door. “Marathel?” Din was worried, almost panicked, all of his licentious thoughts gone. “Are you all right?”

Marathel gasped, and her head whipped around towards the door. “I’m fine, I’m … fine …” Her abdominal muscles contracted again, making her voice waver on the last word.

“You’re in pain, I heard you moaning …”

“You were listening?!”

“No! No … Just now, I heard you …”

“How could you LISTEN like that?!” The need to push became overwhelming, and she groaned as she felt blood running down her thighs.

“Marathel! I’m coming in!”

“NO! Don’t you DARE come in!”

“Let me HELP you!” cried Din.

“I don’t NEED your help!” Marathel shouted back. “I … don’t need … ANYONE …” She rolled to a deep squat on her feet and hands, grit her teeth, and bore down on whatever it was her body was trying to release. She reached down between her legs, and could just feel something gelatinous inside her, so she took another deep breath and pushed again. This time she felt a mass exit her vagina, and she went to her knees, trying to catch her breath. And here I thought I’d never give birth, but I think I just did, thought Marathel.

Din knocked on the door again. “Marathel? Mesh’la? Please, talk to me! What is happening?”

“I’m okay … I’m all right,” weakly said Marathel. She reached behind her, finding the mass she’d just expelled with her fingertips. What in Frith? She moved herself to a position where she could see whatever it was, a dark red-brown clot, about the size of a gorugelly, that contained clumps of what appeared to be crusted flesh. Marathel realized what had occurred: she had passed a clot of scabs made by the cauterizing of the worst of the wounds made by the Dilimgau. Ceiroprac had told me I might shed those, though Marathel. I didn’t think I’d be so damn dramatic about it though! How typical of me, thought Marathel. She laughed weakly at first, and then louder as she realized how absurd her life was.

Outside the fresher door, Din was bewildered by the sudden sound of laughter on the other side. “Marathel? If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m coming in there.”

“Oh … calm down, Din, for the love of Frith! I’ll be fine. The sonic waves shook loose some … internal scabbing, and I wasn’t expecting that.”

Internal … oh, he thought, remembering that Marathel had refused reconstruction where she had been so badly damaged by the Dilimgau, but had wounds cauterized instead. “I’m sorry, ner kar’ta. Are you still in pain? Are you bleeding badly?”

“I … some. But I’ll be all right.”

“What can I do for you?” Din pleaded.

Marathel squinted up at the switch he had told her toggled the fresher between sonic and water. “Would it be all right if I turned on the water?”

“That … the water won’t be very warm.”

“I don’t mind cold water. But there’s blood, and … clots. Can that go down the drain in here?”

Din sighed. “Not a large amount of blood, and I’d rather any solids didn’t.” It was a decent recycling system, but not that good.

“Then please bring me rags and a bucket, or something, so I can clean this up.”

“Damn it, Marathel, let me do that for you!” He found a large towel. Going back to the fresher door, he turned his head away and closed his eyes. “I’m going to open the door now. My eyes are averted.” Before Marathel could protest, he opened the fresher door and stepped backwards into the doorway, holding out the towel behind him. “Here; wrap yourself in this.” He felt the towel being snatched from his hand. “Let me know when I can turn around.”

Marathel wrapped the towel around her, covering as much as she could. Leaning into the far corner, she quietly said, “Okay.”

Din turned around, his eyes seeking out Marathel. Her back was to him as she faced the corner of the fresher, the towel only covering her from mid-thigh to mid back, unable to wrap around her fully, and she had pulled her hair over her shoulder to cover her front. I should have brought her blanket, thought Din; he had again forgotten that she was a little more full-figured, and needed more coverage than a standard cheap towel would provide, because all he could ever see was that her form was perfect.

There were drips of blood running down her inner calves. Din looked over to the drain, seeing a small puddle of blood along with the remains of a large viscous clot, as well as bloody prints of both her hands and bare feet on the floor. Din removed his gloves and rolled up his sleeves. He grabbed the washcloth and went to the basin to soak it, seeing the bloody dilator in the basin. He looked over at Marathel just as she looked over her shoulder, and she flushed pink again, turning her face back to the corner. Din’s eyes went down her back, still covered with welts, and he watched another drop of blood roll down her leg, dismayed at how much she still had to suffer just to heal. “Will you at least let me take you to a medical facility?”

“How would you explain my injuries?”

Din soaked the washcloth and knelt by the large clot, doing his best to not look at it too much as he scooped it into the other small cloth. “The same story as before … you’re a runaway sex slave.”

“What if they don’t believe you?”

“They don’t ask many questions on a bounty.”��

“Then why didn’t you take me there instead of Tatooine?”

Din began mopping up the worst of the blood, deciding to tell the partial truth. “I wasn’t too capable of logic at the time, my head being bashed in and all.” I was too afraid to put you in the hands of strangers.

Marathel looked at him over her shoulder. “What’s that? On your wrist?”

The yarn bracelet. He’d forgotten. He carefully wrapped the stained towels together. “Nothing.”

Marathel frowned. From what she could see, it was some sort of … adornment made from green, yellow, and brown yarn, the same colors she and Grogu had used to tie on the poosticks. “I don’t remember you having that before.”

Din did not answer her; instead, he took the bloody cloths and disposed of them in the vac tube and came back to wash his hands, looking away from the dilator. He opened the storage bin and pulled out a bottle. “Here is shampoo if you’d like to use it.” Marathel watched as Din stashed another, smaller bottle in his pocket, wondering what that could be that he needed to hide it; it wasn’t like she read the damn label, after all. He turned a dial on the wall. “Now you’ll have water. The same switch will turn it on. I’ll leave another towel outside the door. Okay?”

“Thank you. I’ll be quick; I don’t want to waste your water.”

“Please, don’t … don’t worry about that. Take all the time you need. Or at least all the cold water you can stand.”

“Thank you, Din.”

Din gazed at her, still pressed into the corner, naked but for her long hair and a scanty towel.

She is so soft, so beautiful. So sad.

So broken.

“You’re welcome, Marathel.” He grabbed his gloves, left the fresher, closing the door behind him. She called me Din, he thought. I’m Din again.

Marathel remained crowded into the corner of the fresher for a while after Din left her alone, mind racing, bewildered again by the Mandalorian Bounty Hunter. Ashamed as she was that he’d heard her before, that he’d listened to her as she … but he had come running to her when he thought that she was hurt, just as he’d come running when she called for him when Grogu had put her in a tree. Just like how he’d taken her broken body away with him when he left Unmanarall. And what had she done for him? Fed him meals, baked him bread, given him some physical pleasure?

Broken his heart?

Tears threatened again, chipping away at her resolve, trying to make her forget why she was insisting on going back … and the reasons for doing so were growing less and less important.

Marathel tried to turn off her addled brain as she went over to the fresher controls and turned on the water. Stepping under the aerated spray, she expected cold water, but what she experienced instead was something even more frigid than her waterfall during the deepest part of cold season. Chilled almost instantly to the bone, Marathel shrieked, “GAIAH!!!!”

In the cockpit, Grogu had woken up, and was cuddled on Din’s lap when Marathel’s surprised scream reverberated through the ship. Oh kriff, thought Din as he hurriedly turned down the reception volume on his helmet. Then he chuckled and patted Grogu’s tummy, saying, “I think I forgot to tell Mama to let the water run for a minute before getting in.” Grogu frowned up at him, folding his ears down. “Yeah, she’s gonna throw a rock at my pudyn for sure.”

Later, Marathel was clean and dressed again. It took a while before she got warm, though, after nearly freezing herself in the fresher. The water did eventually get mildly warm, but nowhere near enough to offset how cold the water was initially. Osi’kovid, thought Marathel. And after I helped him fix this flying metal box!

Marathel dressed in her other set of blue clothes, the thick socks Cobb had given her, and then finally her blanket. She figured out the drinking water dispenser and helped herself to Din’s tiny galley storage, finding the container of tea. She made two cups of extra-hot tea, a cup of bone broth, and cut a loaf of Silnima’s sweet squash bread into thick slices. Carrying one cup of tea and the cup of broth, she went up to the cockpit access. “Din?”

She heard his feet drop heavily to the floor, and he was up and looking down at her in a flash. “Mesh’la?”

Marathel pursed her lips at the endearment, and said, “Here is broth for Grogu, and tea for you.” She placed the cups, each with a slice of sweet bread on top, at Din’s feet.

Din quickly dropped to one knee and was just able to touch her fingers briefly as she let go of the cups. “Thank you, Marathel.”

“When Grogu is finished, would you please send him with the cups back to me? I finished knitting something for him.”

“Of course.” Marathel nodded, then disappeared from view. Din stayed there, on one knee, long after she’d left, just listening to her moving around on his ship, humming the only song, digging through drawers in the galley, sipping her tea, vocalizing her Oldtalk to the melody of the only song now and again. Grogu came and snagged his sweet bread and his bone broth and sat next to Din, enjoying his snack and listening to his Mama while Din thought about doing a U-turn, taking her to his covert and presenting her to the Armorer as his choice for riddurr.

But then, Din sighed and reconsidered. Kidnapping a bride was Paz’s style, not his. And being an Apostate meant a riddurrok was out of the question until he could redeem himself. So, he sat down next to his boy and drank his tea and ate the bread, lifting his helmet only enough to do so.

Below, Marathel had settled herself on Din’s bedroll and was using the black insulation foam as a base to felt the wool roving Cobb had bought for her. Lacking a felting tool, she’d dug through all the drawers she had been able to open and found three pointy things that she tied together to make an ersatz stabber, as she called it. She drafted the wool into little bits of fluff, which she spread in layers on the foam, using the three-pronged improvised tool to stab it into the foam over and over and over. This part was very therapeutic, Marathel found. As the wool felted together, she added more wool, flipping the piece over, stabbing it again and again to make a cloth, intending to give the finished cloths to the Bounty Hunter to polish his armor.

Din had come down from the cockpit with Grogu; they’d found a few empty cups and a couple of bowls floating around the cockpit. Din had expected to see Marathel leaning against the main corridor wall, sitting on the foam square, knitting. Surprised to not see her immediately, he looked around before he noticed her sitting in his quarters. He tilted his helmet as he watched her repeatedly stab bits of wool — with great gusto — into the black foam. Her vehemence in her task frightened him a little, as she stabbed, stabbed, stabbed whatever it was she had in her hand. “What are you doing?”

“I’m felting wool into cloth.” Stab, stab, stab.

“Why?”

“For you, to polish your armor.” Stab, stab, stab.

“I can buy that sort of thing.”

“I’m sure you can. But I want to make these for you.” Her tone told him she would brook no quarter. Stab, stab, stab. Her eyes flicked up to his helmet. Stab, stab, stab.

Din wasn’t about to argue the point with her, not with that stabby tool thing she was wielding. He did like seeing her in his bed, though. “Do you have enough light in there?”

She looked up at the overhead lights. “It’s good enough for what I’m doing. The floor is too uncomfortable for me right now,” said Marathel, her cheeks turning pink again. She looked past Din’s legs and smiled. “Just who I wanted to see. Come here, my love.” Grogu toddled in and hugged Marathel’s legs. She picked up a folded knitted item and unfurled it, holding it up to his little body. “Hmmm. It might be a little big for him. But he’ll grow into it.” Marathel frowned and looked back up at Din. “Will he grow into it?”

Din shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I only recently found out he’s over fifty years old.”

“Fifty? Why, that would make him older than me, even!”

“I understand that his people are slow-growing folks that live for a very long time.”

“But that means …” Marathel’s face fell, and she caressed Grogu’s face. “He will be without you for much of his life.”

Din crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb, looking down to the floor. “I suppose so.” It had occurred to him as well. He tried not to think about it much.

“How old are you?”

Din raised his eyes back to Marathel’s lovely face. “Well, going back and forth in hyperspace kind of muddies time, as opposed to staying on one planet. But I’m somewhere around forty-two Basic years old.”

“That makes me older than you,” said Marathel quietly. “I am glad to know that you are not so much younger than me.”

Din shrugged. “Not by much, no.” And I am glad to know that you aren’t half my age … that would have skeeved me out. I’m middle-aged. I don’t need to be with someone so young as that … not like the place you came from.

“Well, enough of that kind of talk. Let’s see how this fits you, my little Godynferth!” Marathel fed Grogu’s arms into the sleeves of the little jacket, and she tied the attached belt around his waist. “It’s a tiny bit long, but it looks good to me. Show your father, little one.”

With a pleased coo, Grogu turned to Din, holding out his little arms. Din squatted down to Grogu’s level. “Well, now, kid, I think you look like a proper Jedi. I like it, Marathel, thank you. He’s never complained about being cold, but a child should have cold weather gear.”

“What do you do for cold weather gear?”

“You’re looking at it.”

Marathel frowned. “Do you not get cold?”

“I get cold.”

This troubled Marathel. The thought I would knit you sweaters and cowls, weave you capes and blankets, anything I could make to keep you warm went unbidden through her head.

Din cleared his throat, and stood, taking a step back from the doorway. “I thought I should use the sonic myself. Would you mind …?”

Marathel blinked. “Oh! Of course. Just knock when I can come out.” She looked around her, realizing that Grogu had wandered off. She called out, “Come here, Grogu, let me take that jacket off you … then you get to stay in here with Mama.” She had not directly called herself that before. Not out loud. Oh, she thought to herself. I never knew how much joy my heart could hold, just saying Mama, referring to myself. Did Din feel the same way, when Grogu became his son in his heart?

And oh, when Din caught her eye after she had put the question to her mind, and Din knew as sure as anything that Marathel had just realized who she was.

Grogu’s Mama.

You’re Grogu’s Mama, Marathel. And you’re going to leave him, because you’re holding on to some insane guilt over things that were done to you and not by you. I can think of no other reason you would willingly return there. Yet, I can’t not take you back; I must obey you because … you are my Dahl-mate? That is equally insane, my ma’mwsh ha’laa, so insane we should go somewhere uncharted and be crazy together.

Din stepped back into his quarters and stood, looking down at Marathel. She looked back at him, puzzled, asking, “What is it?”

“We need to talk to each other,” said Din.

“We have talked.”

“No, we haven’t.” Din sat down at the other end of the bedroll, but still too close in the tiny room, where they’d already experienced so much intimacy when she was injured, unconscious, and naked, and he was gloveless, helmet-less, and out if his mind with concussion. “You’ve talked. You’ve talked at me. You’ve told me the nightmare of your life, the humiliation and degradation you’ve suffered. But then you tell me that I must return you to the source of your suffering, and that’s all there is to it.” Din sighed, unsure where to start. “May I hold your hand?”

Marathel looked down at Din’s hand, covered by his glove. She couldn’t think of a good reason not to hold his hand. It was a reasonable request, and he was a man; therefore, she must obey him. But his hand was encased by fabric and leather. Along with his forearm weapons, there was not a strip of bare skin exposed. She supposed that he could make the argument that her hand was encased in metal springs, and therefore, just as non-tactile as his own hand.

But what difference did the glove make, really? His hand was still within — a strong and gentle hand, powerful, but still capable of tender touch, loving hands that held Grogu as well as fondled her.

His hands, the gloves.

Marathel raised her eyes to Din’s chest, protected by heavy armor. She knew it was heavy; she’d felt the weight of it against her own body, and he carried both the armor and occasionally her. But behind the armor was him, she knew there was flesh, flesh that was warm and yielding, carrying scars and marks and moles, flesh over muscle that had seen battles that ended in death and hands of others caressing him, pleasuring him, for he was a man and such pleasures were necessary; even her own hands had felt that flesh in an effort to please him as well as fill her own needs.

His body, the armor.

Raising her eyes even more, Marathel studied his helmet, planes and angles that disguised his face; and even though she knew he had brown hair and brown eyes and a mustache and facial hair, she longed to see those features, to solidify in her broken mind who he was, his eyes upon hers, to hopefully read in those brown eyes that he could see her, cracked, crumbled, chipped away to rubble, and so, so sad that she desperately needed a tender touch and the knowledge that even as unworthy as she was, that he trusted her enough, that he loved her enough, to supersede his words of love and trust with the sight of his own lips saying such things, and the touch of his lips on her, words, words meant nothing, she was too stupid to understand words, words almost always led to lies …

“Marathel?” Marathel blinked, shaking herself out of her thoughts. “I only asked you to hold my hand; it wasn’t some sort of trick question,” he implored.

Marathel dropped her eyes and went back to felting the wool, stabbing the fleece into the foam over and over. “What did you need to say?”

“I want you to explain to Grogu why you’re doing this.”

“Doing what? Felting wool?”

Din took a deep breath; he wanted to keep his temper. “Why you’re insisting I take you back.” Marathel stopped her stabbing motion. “Because you haven’t explained it to me at all, and I want to hear you explain it to him, so maybe I can possibly understand.”

Marathel set aside her project and primly folded her hands in her lap. “I’d be happy to speak to Grogu. Shall I do it now?”

Din was surprised, as he thought she would either belay an explanation or refuse to do it altogether. He looked over his shoulder and saw Grogu, still in his little knitted robe, sitting in the doorway, eating a hunk of bread. “Hey kid, Marathel would like to speak to you.”

Grogu got up and toddled over to Marathel, holding out his bread crust to her. Marathel smiled and took the proffered crust, bobbed her head, and murmured, “Thank you, my love,” and ate the bit of bread, while Din was both surprised and overwhelmed that Grogu shared food with her, as if sharing food was a commonplace thing for him, because it certainly wasn’t. “Come up here, little one,” she said, lifting him onto her legs so Grogu could sit on her. “You may not know this, but your father is taking me back to the planet I came from. Remember? You met me there, in my little hut, where we played poosticks, and picked flowers, and you and Patu went fishing?”

Grogu made an affirmative coo, and Marathel continued. “Well, we’re going back there, but what will happen is that I will stay there, and you and Patu will go on flying on your adventure, and I will not be with you.”

Grogu frowned, his ears drooping.

“Remember, when I said goodbye to you before? I thought you would be leaving me behind then. But I was so badly hurt, and your father did not want to leave me behind like that. I didn’t know your father took me away with you. And I am sorry that you had to see me so hurt, and that you had to help me breathe when I was so sick. I know you also helped my hands, and I thank you so much for that. You gave me back my hands, you clever boy!

“Unfortunately, I am still sick. I am very, very sick. But I’m not sick in my lungs, or in my hands. I’m sick here …” — Marathel indicated her head — “… and here …” — Marathel put her hand over her heart. “The sickness, the pain I have there is not an illness that can be healed by the tiny hands of a little green boy with large ears. It’s a sickness that I can’t ever recover from. It’s a hurt that can’t be fixed. And when there’s something that can’t be fixed, well, then, it must be left behind.

“I’m sure you’ve seen Patu leave things that can’t be fixed. Parts of this ship, a blaster, something. But this time, it’s me that must be left behind.” Grogu’s face fell, and he looked down to his little feet until Marathel put her finger under his chin and lifted his face up again. “Grogu, you need to know that I’m okay with that. That is what I want. I want to be left behind, so my sickness won’t affect you or your Patu.

“I know this is hard to understand. I know I can’t properly explain why this is so necessary to me. But I need you to remember that this was my decision. And if for no other reason than that, I need for that decision to be honored by you, honored by your Patu. I’ve had so little honor given to me, Grogu, and whether my decision is good, or bad, or indifferent, it was my decision to make.

“But I don’t want you to worry about me. I will be all right when you and Patu leave. I will be sad, of course. I will be very sad. And you will be sad, too, I know. You may be very sad. And it’s okay for you to be sad. But you have much to do. You must grow up, and live a wonderful life, and have many exciting adventures with your father. And I want you to enjoy the amazing life you’re going to have, flying here and there, meeting all kinds of people … probably making things blow up …” Marathel laughed. “Wherever you are, I will be thinking of you. When you look up at the night sky, and you see all those stars, and planets, that will be me keeping an eye on you! I’ve been so proud to be your Mama! And perhaps, someday, you may have a new Mama to go along with your Patu, or … even maybe another Patu, who knows?” Marathel looked up at Din, thinking of Cobb. She knew. She just did. “Someone will make your father so happy, and that’s what we all want, is for Patu and Grogu to be happy. Happy, and safe.

“And … I will be happy too, to know that you are happy, and safe. No matter how sick I am, no matter how much I hurt in my heart and in my mind, I will always be happy that I met you and your father. I will always be happy to think of the three of us having fun in that little hut, having little, tiny adventures amongst ourselves. Even if you believe you had far too many baths.

“I will miss you so much. You will be in my heart forever. Rwy’n di’rugar, my love,” said Marathel, her voice crackling, and she picked up Grogu and hugged him tightly, kissing his little face.

Drawing back, Marathel smiled at Grogu with tears in her eyes. “I think that went well, don’t you? Yes, I think that went well. I hope you understand a little better why this is happening, love, yes? Yes.”

Grogu patted her cheek, cooing sadly. Then he pointed back at Din. Marathel gazed into his dark visor and sighed. “Yes, I will miss Patu as well. He has been a good friend to me. My first friend, actually. Your father will also be in my heart forever. I know he’s having a very hard time leaving me behind. Someday, he may understand why he must leave me behind, but even if he doesn’t, I hope he knows that I will never regret a single moment I spent with him. Even when I threw eggs at him. Or called him names.”

“What about not telling me about the depth of the mud I had to slog through?” asked Din.

“Oh, that … I wanted to get back at you for laughing at me.”

Din chuckled briefly, and then reached over to gently ruffle Grogu’s hair, moving his hands closer to her. “Marathel, I don’t think you’re sick. I don’t think you’re so damaged that you can’t be fixed, or that you can’t be helped. Doctors and therapists are out there. I can find you someone if you would just let me.”

Marathel felt trapped by the armored man before her, and she wondered if that was his intention. She returned her attention to Grogu. “Grogu, do you understand what I am asking of you? Will you please honor my decision?”

“You can’t ask him that. He’s just a child.”

“Grogu is wiser than I will ever be.”

“All the more reason to not take you back, Marathel! I can’t, in good conscience, leave a woman having a nervous breakdown alone in the wilderness!”

“I’m not having a breakdown!” cried Marathel.

“Then you should!” shouted Din. He dropped his head. “I’m sorry, mesh’la, I’m sorry, ad’ika, I shouldn’t have yelled. I am upset, because … because I don’t have much time left to convince you to not leave me.” He reached for Grogu. “Kid, would you please give Mama and me some privacy? We need to … grown-up talk.” Grogu bleated and jumped off Marathel’s lap and toddled out of the tiny room, patting Din’s arm as he went, which both adults noticed with mild amusement, wondering just how much Grogu was able to understand the angst the grown-ups were creating for themselves.

Din and Marathel looked at each other. He took a breath, then reached to shut the door.

“Din …”

He moved his hand along the wall, and turned off the lights, and then a third switch shut off even the tiny red and green panel lights, leaving the tiny room in full darkness. Marathel gasped, and Din said, “Mesh’la, I need you to trust me … I must do this this way.” Focusing on the low-light image in his visor, he moved closer to her, reaching for her hands in the darkness, and she pushed herself against the wall behind her. “Please, Marathel, I …” She kept pulling her hands loose, whimpering, fearful. Din pulled off his gloves, and then, his helmet, saying, “Marathel.”

Marathel fell still at the sound of his voice, unmodulated, and she forgot to breathe. Din reached for her hand again, their fingertips touching before she drew her hand back. “Marathel, ma’mwsh ha’laa, I don’t know what to do about you. I don’t understand why you won’t let me love you. I don’t understand why you insist on destroying yourself.” He sighed. “I don’t know how else to say that I don’t care who your biological parents are. I don’t know how else to tell you that those reprehensible things done to you don’t make you a whore. Those things only matter to me because of the pain they cause you.”

Din got up to his knees and moved even closer to Marathel, gently pushing down on her knees so that he could straddle her legs, resting part on his weight on her, pinning her in place again like he had against the kitchen wall of the palace, and he hated that he kept trapping her this way. He lifted her hands to his face, saying, “I can’t show you my face. This is the way. This is the only … allowable way for me to be without my helmet around you. And even then, this is still … difficult. Attachments outside the covert, attachments of any kind are not discouraged, but … neither are they encouraged.” He still held her trembling hands. “I’ve told you I love you, both in Basic and in my own language, remember? I said to you, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, when we were together that night. ‘I will know you forever,’ that’s what that really means, mesh’la, I will have you in my heart forever just as you will have Grogu in your heart forever. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar’ta, cyar’e. I love you, my heart, my beloved …” Din kissed her splinted fingers. “And you said something back. What did you say back to me?”

“Fi ng’riad, d’lwch fi, chi yd’w fi,” said Marathel, her voice unsteady.

“What does that mean?”

“‘Love me, hold me, I am yours.’”

“But it doesn’t really mean that, does it, mesh’la? I can’t possibly believe that there’s a word for love in the Hold. Not with what they do there to women, to children. I’m sure you say that at a very specific time; you have ceremonial words for every moment you women must endure, there’s a verse in that only song for every occasion, so when do you say that, Marathel, what does it really mean?”

“It means … ‘I am yours to take and ruin.’”

Din’s heart broke a little more. “And when are you supposed to say that?”

“When the girl presents herself to her Elder as a Whyn just before he takes her … fully.”

“And you said this … to me?”

Marathel sobbed and pulled her hands away. “I had no other words to give you. I knew you had said something very important to me, and I had to say something!”

“But what do you feel, Marathel?”

“I don’t know!”

Din sat back on his heels, sighing, sure she was lying. He rubbed his face with his hands. “Back on Unmanarall, when you asked me to remove my helmet … if I had, would you have changed your mind about going to the Hold?”

“No.”

“If …” Din’s voice broke, and he had to clear his throat. “If I revealed my face to you now, knowing that I love you, Marathel, my ma’mwsh ha’laa … would you stay with me? Would it make a difference?”

“… No.”

At that moment, Din would rather have been sliced in two by the Darksaber. Desperate now, he pleaded, “What if … then … not with me, then … Stay at the palace, on Nevarro, somewhere, anywhere, where I know I can reach you, see you, know you’re safe …” He found her face in the darkness and pressed his forehead to hers. “Somewhere Grogu can see you, please, ner kar’ta, my heart, please, please, don’t make that boy lose his Mama!”

“Din, please …” sobbed Marathel.

“Stay, yes, or no?”

“... No.”

Din wanted to weep. He reached behind him to find his gloves and his helmet. Standing, he put his helmet back on, and opened the door to the tiny room, revealing Grogu on the other side, looking sadly back up at him. “Gangway, Grogu,” he said, listlessly, and he climbed up the ladder into the cockpit, shutting the door behind him.

Marathel sobbed into her hands, hating herself for what she was doing. She felt Grogu’s tiny hand touch her knee. “Oh, Grogu, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for hurting Patu like that.” She held Grogu as she shifted them both to a prone position on their sides, facing each other. Marathel began stroking Grogu’s ear with her thumb. “Someday, he may forgive me, but if he never does, I will accept that. I’d rather he hate me forever.”

Grogu’s sad eyes bore into hers. “Patu Mama,” he said sternly.

“Patu … Mama?” asked Marathel, confused.

Grogu put his hands together, wrapping his tiny fingers around each other. “Patu … Mama.” Marathel blinked tears from her eyes, then nodded. Repeating the hand motions, Grogu asked, “Mama … Patu?”

Marathel’s eyes went wide, then shut tight for a few moments. Opening her eyes, she whispered, “Yes, my little child. Mama Patu.” Marathel smiled through her tears. “Mama loves Patu with all her heart.”

She couldn’t speak after that for a few moments. Finally, she was able to say, “Grogu, my sweet, it’s because I love your father so that I must be left behind. I’m damaged, and I’m no good. He deserves someone so much better than me. What I am, no matter where I go, will bring him only shame and misery. I’m the wrong woman, and what I’ve done will be found out; I know now how people will talk behind my back. I heard the whispering in the palace. Patu is well-respected everywhere he goes, he must be. I can’t be the reason he loses respect in his covert, his … well, wherever a Bounty Hunter may belong. And I don’t belong anywhere, anyplace that’s good.

“People don’t understand a person like me, they will judge me for what I’ve done, what was done to me, who I am. And they will judge your father for caring about me. And I refuse to bring that judgement upon Patu.”

Grogu grunted, shook his fists and said, “Patu Mama! Mama Patu!”

“Oh, Grogu, if only it could be so, I wish it could. But this is the way.”

Grogu frowned and put his hand on Marathel’s chin, and she immediately felt a little sleepy. “Grogu is putting me to sleep again, I think. Did you want me to tell you a bedtime story, little one?” Marathel yawned. “I will tell you my version of how I met your father.

“When I first saw him, the sunlight was reflecting off his armor almost straight into my eyes, and I thought he was one of the Mothers Who Went Before coming for me, coming to take me away and up into the night sky. And then I thought, no, I don’t want to go! So, I had to throw a rock to chase Patu away.

“I had wanted the Mothers Who Went Before to come take me away. I wished for it, prayed to Frith for it. But when I thought they had appeared, I begged to stay! And when I realized it was a person, a man I had never seen before, I was afraid, but somehow, I knew that he would not hurt me, that I was safe with him. I knew a stranger to me would be the first man to treat me well.” Marathel smiled at Grogu, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “And Patu brought me you. How could I not love him?” She felt sad yet happy that she revealed the truth to Grogu. But as she fell asleep — and whether it was Grogu putting her to sleep or the emotional exhaustion hitting her was immaterial — Marathel mumbled, “But there’s no point.”

Grogu got up from where he lay next to Marathel. He gently pressed his forehead to hers, like Patu would do. Just like Patu would do to him. Then Grogu sighed, and toddled out to the corridor, where he sat down with a tiny grunt, looking back and forth from the open quarters to the closed cockpit door.

Grogu was frustrated. Grogu had a hard time understanding why Patu and Mama could not just love Mama and Patu! Grogu wished Patu would kiss Mama again. Grogu had seen other people kiss before. Grogu knew kissing made other people happy. Grogu had been happy when Patu had been happy with Ohmeh. Grogu had been sad that Patu did not kiss Ohmeh. Grogu was happy Patu kissed Mama. Grogu changed Mahr to Mama because Patu kissed Mama. Grogu was happy Patu became happy again.

Grogu was sad that Mama was sad. Grogu could see that Mama was hurt in a lot of places. Grogu wondered why someone hurt Mama. Grogu was mad that someone hurt Mama. Grogu wanted to help Mama. Grogu had helped Patu and friends of Patu.

Grogu did not understand why Mama did not want help from Grogu. Grogu did not understand why Mama was so dark inside head of Mama. Grogu was sad Mama was so dark inside head of Mama.

Grogu could not fix Mama.

Grogu could not fix inside head of Mama.

Grogu was sad.

Grogu looked down at the floor and sighed. He thought for a while, and while he sat and thought, he began picking up his favorite colors of the glitter on the floor — gold, silver, and green — and made them float and swirl before his eyes. After a while, Grogu put the glitter down, and he called out to the Force, looking for friends that might make Mama less sad. And if Mama was less sad, then maybe Patu would be less sad, too.

It was a few hours later that Marathel heard Din calling her. Climbing up out of her troubled sleep, she said, “Mmmmm … what?”

“Marathel? Wake up.”

Not wanting another round of Din’s pressure, Marathel muttered, “Why?”

“You need to see this.” Marathel frowned at Din but let him help her up. She followed him stiffly up the ladder to the cockpit, where he beckoned her to stand at the console, where Grogu was sitting, looking up and out of the view screen. Din pointed above his head. “Look.”

Marathel stood where Din indicated, and looked up to see not just one Purrgil, but many. She gasped and put her hand to her mouth.

“I don’t know how many there are,” said Din. “I got up to twelve, and more kept coming. I can’t see them all to count them. They are all around the Crest.” A single Purrgil, much smaller than the one Marathel had seen while on the transport, moved closer, almost as if she was trying to peer into the cockpit. “A few have done that, too. I’ve never heard of a Purrgil doing that before.” The Purrgil bellowed, the vibration rumbling the floor of the cockpit, and they could see the closest of the Purrgils nodding their heads. Din turned to look at Marathel’s enraptured face. “It looks like they were waiting for you,” he whispered, carefully reaching for her hand.

Marathel jumped, looked down at her hand, her pinky finger wrapped with his. She quickly shifted her eyes back up on the Purrgils above her … but she reached with her other fingers to capture the rest of his hand. Din lifted his other hand to Grogu’s back, and they stood that way for a long time. Eventually, Din wrapped his arm around Grogu, lifting the child up against him. Din stepped back and took a seat on his captain’s chair, still holding Marathel’s hand as she dropped her eyes from the Purrgils and turned to look at him. He gently tugged on her hand, and she allowed him to seat her on his lap. Din reached to recline the seat back, but it fell too quickly and Marathel nearly somersaulted off the back of the chair, and she laughed while Din cursed his rotten luck. Of all times to be a klutz, he thought. I couldn’t be suave if my life depended on it!

“This is ridiculous,” said Marathel. “I’m too heavy; I’ll squish you.”

“No, you won’t.” Even if she cut off his circulation and his legs fell off, he wouldn’t care. Din put his feet up on the console, her legs already entwined with his.

“Then I’ll break your chair.”

“Unlikely.” Even if their combined weight broke this chair, he had two more in this very cockpit. Chairs were replaceable. Din guided Marathel to lay back against him and tucked her head under the edge of his helmet.

“This many Purrgil could destroy your ship.”

“Then I will die with my clan in my arms,” said Din.

Marathel’s heart ached. She tried to blink back her tears, but failed. Then she realized she could feel his body under hers. “Did you remove your armor?”

“Yes.”

Marathel couldn’t help but smirk. “You felt safe enough to remove your armor around me?”

“It was a calculated risk.”

“And you assumed you could get me on your lap.”

Din stroked her arm. “And I love you best, Marathel, when you open your sweet mouth and say things like that.”

He was right of course, for Marathel felt the same way about him. She didn’t speak again, but remained there in his chair, on his lap, along with Grogu, watching the Purrgil fly all around them. The Purrgil continued to accompany the small ship through hyperspace, watching over the clan of three.

You Were Marked: Next Chapter ->

#the mandalorian angst #din djarin angst #mando angst #star wars fanfiction #starwarsficnetwork #pedro pascal fandom #pedrostories #pedro pascal stories #din x plus size fem oc #din x fem oc #din x afab oc

21 notes · View notes

requestomaestro · 3 months

Text

Cowboy hat rule

Jack Daniels (or any other cowboy) x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Summary: the aftermath of taking a Cowboys hat Rating: smut, almost no plot

Word count: 1178

With all the smoke and people trying to talk over each other the atmosphere in the bar feels steamy. Just like others, filled with liquid courage girls, she’s doing her best stealing the attention of a man. Not just any man, a handsome cowboy who without even trying makes her nervous like she’s a teenager.

At this point, innocent touches are standard. Lips getting so close to the delicate elope, so the sentence doesn’t get lost in the loud bar. Or hands placed gently on the lower back when passing by. They don’t have to do that. They could scream or go around the table but they both feel the unapprehended need to be as close as possible. Closer than the fabric of their clothes.

The cowboy compliments her dress which earns him a smile and a spin from the girl. If she moved a liter faster he could see her underwear. Or maybe she doesn’t wear any. A thought that now can’t escape his mind. She wants to compliment him too, but truth be told she doesn’t like his clothes. They cower his broad shoulders which is a crime. She reaches for the hat but he stops her in the middle of that action.

"Be careful. If you take a cowboy’s hat, you’ll have to ride him” he warns her in a deep voice.

‘’That’s a rule?’’ she legitimately is surprised when he nods ‘’yes” but this state doesn’t last long. There’s something about him. Making her want to do things usually she doesn’t do. Making her desperate for any of his attention. In a crowded bar, there’s no space to figure out what it is. She has to take him somewhere where they could explore each other.

Without hesitation, she looks him deeply in the eyes and once again reaches for his cowboy hat. This time he doesn’t stop her. She’s a big girl, she knows what she’s doing. Still, the pupils in his eyes get wider at her action. When the hat, his hat, takes a place on her head he’s ready to fuck her right there. Luckily for him, she already has a plan.

‘’You drove here, right?”

---------

Even with the thick fabric of her jeans, she can feel his hands digging into her cheeks. There’s so much power and strength in the movement but it doesn’t hurt at all. He must have done it many times before. Every grind sends a shiver down her spine, making her more impatient to have any skin-to-skin contact.

She goes for the checkered shirt, throwing it somewhere to find later on one of the seats. It gives her nothing. He’s wearing a black top underneath it. A curse escapes her mouth when she tries to pull the fabric out of his pants. It makes him laugh quietly. So desperate, so pretty and needy. All of this is his for now.

His hand grabs both of her wrists, stopping her trying to make him less covered. Slowly, with one hand, he undoes the belt with some ridiculously big buckle. Her, now almost all black, eyes following every move. When the metal hits the floor, she can see a glimpse of a bulge forming underneath the denim. Mentally she’s preparing herself for a ride like she never had before.

It comes faster than she suspected. In the limited space of the old truck, he manages to lay her down on the backseats. There’s no awkwardness or wobble in his actions. Such a little detail, but it makes her even more excited. He also has little trouble removing her pants which makes her a little embarrassed that she couldn’t deal with him earlier. Luckily she doesn't have a single moment to overthink this. Wet lips and the delicate pinch of his mustache are a perfect distraction.

The higher he gets the more she has to stop herself from hurrying him. The walk from the bar to the truck seemed long, it’s nothing compared to the trail he’s taking now. But he gets there, exactly where she wants him. Only now that he tears her underwear she feels like he’s desperate for her too.

There’s no hesitation in his actions. He practically dives into her pussy, drinking all that she’s unwittingly willing to give him. All of her just for him.

‘’Fuck, don’t stop!” every sentence that leaves her mouth makes him go faster. It’s a never-ending circle until she lets out a scream that someone in the bar for sure could have heard. Delicate kisses on her thighs are too much. But she has no strength to tell him to stop, the blissful explosion took over her body. Slowly she opens her eyes and it is then that she notices that all the windows are steamy.

They’re just looking at each other. Two strangers who’ve met just a few hours before, hypnotized by each other. She can’t stop herself and slowly starts moving towards him, building the anticipation. They finally touch again, her hand on his shoulder when she swings her leg over his lap.

Now, they’re exactly where they should have been. The promise made earlier is happening at that moment. They kiss and it’s slower than any kiss they’ve shared but it’s also more passionate. When lips touch slowly, soaking the moment, it doesn't feel like a one-time thing for any of them.

Once again he guides her hips, addicting her to the feeling she can’t take enough of. It feels perfect and at the same time not enough. She reaches between their bodies and within a moment she’s full of him. The truck is filled with sounds of their pleasure. Quiet moans that couldn’t be kept inside if they’ve tried. Kisses and breaths on the neck add to the addictive feeling. It’s slow, it’s intimate, it’s so much in the best way possible. Until he starts pumping into her faster. Somebody heard them for sure. Maybe steam has covered the windows but the sounds of their pleasure are too loud to hide. The world could be ending and they wouldn’t notice as they start to move together even faster.

She might be screaming at this point, but it doesn't matter. The hot coil growing in her is the only thing she cares about. He comes first, filling her with as much as he can. As his orgasm slowly dies he has a perfect view. Her body stretched right in front of him. Delicious breast bouncing as she chases her own pleasure. He still guides her and adds to it by kissing every inch of her skin he can. It doesn't take much. Few circles around her nipple and she’s screaming even louder.

There’s not a lot of space but somehow with the explosion inside of her, she’s afraid to fall. She holds to his broad shoulder for her life as she slowly gains consciousness.

They sit body to body as their breaths return to normal pace. Once again their stares connect and there’s that unspoken agreement that this wasn't the last time they’ve seen each other.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #agent whisky #jack daniels #kingsman #pedro pascal stories #cowboy #cowboy hat #cowboys #x reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader

21 notes · View notes

spacecowgirl237 · 1 month

Text

I think I love Joel more in Jackson. I made this because I love the banter between him and Ellie and all the environment in the place. The snow, the lights, horses, etc...

❄️🐴✨🪵

14 notes · View notes

pascals-doll · 3 months

Text

like you mad at me

javìer peña x reader

🫧 lovely gif by @ilovejavierpena ! (took me a min to find the post again 💔)

🫧GO ON STRETCH THAT COOCHIE OUT LIKE U MAD ATTA BITCH 😩 sexyy red been stuck in my head!! based on all those sex scenes in narcos, I KNOW THATMAN FUCK LIKE HE MAD

🫧 pedro pascal speaking spanish ouuuu voy a llorar hasta que se me caigan los ojos

🫧 spanish keywords for my non-spanish speakers

-mirame: look at me

- lo adoro: i adore it

- bebesita/cielto: heaven/baby

- gatita tan linda: such a pretty kitty

-dentro de/ de que hablas: inside of / what are u talking about

🫧 description: literally just smut, slutty smut, angry sex, dom!javier, husband!javier, sub!reader, rough sex, backshots!, unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, face grabbing, mentions of spanking kink, reader speaks spanish, mentions of putting a baby in reader at the end!, little bit of breathe play (if u squint frfr), javier is stressed and angry, no use of y/n, use of pet names (cielito, bebesita, good girl) javi just desverves good pussy

you knew being a DEA agent was not a very easy job, especially with the rise of colombian drug dealers.

he needed to come home to blow off some steam, it was just human.

in fact, you even encouraged your husband of an idea you’ve had in mind.

one night you knew your beloved husband, Javíer came home because the slamming of your front door rung through your shared home.

you knew it must’ve not been a good day, you get up from the couch.

you began to walk, turning the corner once you reached it turning towards where the front door is.

there he was, running a hand through his roughed up hair tucking away his gun in the drawer he always leaves it in.

he looked up at you with dead eyes, a tense broad frame, and furrowed eyebrows.

you came up to him, you open your arms to him causing him to lean in slightly as you immediately embrace him.

he cursed under his breath, you knew it was from his frustrations ”mi amor, how about we release some of that stress and anger” you whisper in his ear. you could tell by his face he was confused.

“de que hablas?” poor javì, he was just so tired. you gave him a soft smile.

you began to massage his broad shoulders, finding his muscular pressure points. you made sure to put slight pressure and squeeze.

“fuck me like you mad at me, baby”

ever since then, he does exactly that.

you were sure your neighbors hated you, they had too by now.

but the both of you could give less of a fuck.

you were too busy screaming into your pillow as javìer pounded into you.

his hand keeping your head down as he fucks you doggy-style ruthlessly.

your face was so far into the pillow, feeling his grip on the back of your neck. you had completely drooled all over yourself and the pillow as your moans and incoherent words were muffled.

you reach your arm back, giving him two taps on his hip signaling him that you couldnt breathe.

he pushed your face into the pillow once more before grabbing you by your now disheveled hair.

“how does my cock feel-” Javìer began, leaning down to connect his sticky back to yours.

“fuck!-dentro de ese gatita tan linda” his vile accent spits out as your hands reach up to claw at the headboard of your shared bed.

Javìer’s cock was fucking in and out of you at a devilish pace, his hips not halting; not even for a second.

“J-Javi! fuck!” you cry out, literal tears streaming down your face at the feeling of his cock hitting you as his hand burned into your hair was mind-boggling.

he had his other hand on your hip, using that one to scoop you up against him by your stomach; bodies completely pressed together.

you were completely encaged by him, one hand still in your hair and the other wrapped around your stomach as his cock continues to pound you.

the sound of skin slapping just got louder throughout the room.

“such a good girl. the most per-perfect-letting m’use this sweet pussy” he praises, almost moaning out himself as your wet warm cunt clenches around him.

“g-god! f-fuck! s’fast!” you babble out as you try your hardest to keep your head up, Javìer lets go of your hair, his other hand now going to your neck.

he let his hand rest there softly as his hips began to stutter, his hot breathy grunts ringing through your ear.

Javìer detaches his chest away from your back momentarily, his dick moving from inside you aswell.

“i adore you.” such a sweet sentence being spit out so harshly; slamming his cock back into you.

you cry out “oh my! Javí!” his lips peppered kisses throughout your sticky neck and shoulder; not caring.

“i adore your soul. i adore your body. everything you do-lo adoro” he grits out, the hand that was around your stomach now going down to slightly lift your leg; causing you to arch down more.

he was fucking you in such a mean way while being so loving.

the new angle he was pistoling his dick into you from had you seeing stars as he stretched you out more as if that was possible.

you could hear Javíer’s grunts and groans turn rougher and into deep short breaths.

your pussy took him perfectly, loving the way his hips slapped against your ass so meanly, his hands gripping your hips and ass, sometimes even spanking you till your ass turns cherry.

your hands claw at the bedsheets as you slightly spread the leg he was holding, engulfing him completely; to his balls even feeling his bush against your juiced up cunt.

the action caused his hips to stutter, signaling he was close.

the hand that was resting on your neck, now goes up to grab your face: slightly gripping your jaw.

Javíer’s hips continue to thrust into you as your voice goes hoarse, turning your yelps into just above-silent squeals and pleas causing you to shut your eyes.

“mírame.” his low tone sends your shaking body shivers. you open your eyes but the overstimulation being too much to keep them open.

“dije-mírame!” he grunts out loudly, you force your eyes open; never leaving his.

you admire his mouth slightly agape, his hair and forehead glistening, the way his mustache looked, and his deep eyes concentrated on your face; just as much as he was taking you in.

“ay! ay-mph! gonna cum!” you moan out, your mind barely hanging on to any conscious-sense.

“c’mon, cielito, c’mon” Javìer encourages, getting close to his release aswell.

you share the room as you and Javíer take it over with the sounds of both of your moans combining as the sound of skin-slapping dies down.

once he pumped you full of his warm white load. he fell onto the bed, bringing you with him.

“how do you feel, amor?” Javíer asks you, one hand massaging the hair he was once pulling while the other loving fondled your breasts as your legs interlocked.

your mind was still beyond processing and answering.

you gave him a weak nod which caused him to give you a soft smile.

“i’ll ask in the morning bebésita, lets hope i fucked a baby into you.”

441 notes · View notes

writersblog20 · 11 months

Text

Mexico 🌿🍃

Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: When you need some distance from your hometown, Pedro booked a luxurious villa for you in Mexico. It was almost perfect except that Pedro wasn’t there since he was away for filming… or is he?

Warnings: FLUFF! Teeth rotting, cotton candy fluff! Mention of smoking weed, mention of having a rough time, Spanish sentences that might be incorrect (English translation behind) so I’m sorry if it’s wrong! Most is just fluff.

A/N: Hiya, remember me? 😂I’ve been sooooo busy with work and school and handling some personal stuff and just still trying to heal from some things, so I must keep a lot of balls high so that’s why I haven’t been posting for a while. I hope that things will soon get a little more reasonable, but I have no clue when. But for now, I hope you guys enjoy this sweet piece! Much love from your homegirl 🩷🪬🧿

Mexico

You had a couple of very rough months and every time you got back up but that didn’t mean that it was exhausting. Pedro was away filming and knew what you were going through. You both facetimed each other every day and every time you cried or were upset, Pedro wanted to come home to you and take care of you, even though you reassured him that you’d be okay.

It wasn’t new of you for you to push people away and take care of yourself. You finally learned how to love yourself and take care of your inner child. You might’ve lost so much in the last month but found yourself on that journey. You were used to doing things alone and found it hard to accept people in and let them take care of you. But like I said, you were learning that bit by bit.

You were currently in Mexico. Pedro was renting a house there where you could stay for a while and focus on yourself and your healing, leaving everything behind for a while and it was the best decision ever. You felt so extremely relaxed, not forget the fact that you’ve always wanted to go to Mexico. The house was GORGEOUS to say the least. It was some sort of villa and the moment you stepped into the villa, you felt at peace. It was very luxurious, the backyard was huge, with a pool, gorgeous view over the city,

You had thanked Pedro multiple times and he was happy he could help you with something. He wanted to give you the entire world so he did his best to spoil you, escpecially after everything that happened. You deserved to rest and heal in a very luxurious and comforting villa. He didn’t tell you that he rented it just for you, but he would tell you eventually.

This was your 3th night here and you already felt more and more peacefull and relaxed. Throughout the day you would stroll around a market, buying fresh fruit, vegetables and whatever else you needed. After that, you would meditate, after that you would journal with a self-help book called healing through words of Rupi Kaur for at least 2 hours. Than you would do whatever you felt like but mostly, read.

It was evening right now and you decided to get into the huge bathtub. You even looked down over the city in the bathroom as a view. You lit some candles, lit some insence and relaxed while reading your favorite book. You had smoked a joint before you got into the baththub so you were completely fuzzy and relaxed.

Pedro even bought all of your favorite bath oi, foam, salt, body butter, body lotion, body mist with a huge bouquet of roses etc and delivered it to the renting. It came in today and you after you got it, you immediately called Pedro to thank him but he didn’t pick up the phone so you’de figure that he was busy shooting his new movie so instead you send him a sweet text with a selfie of you smiling with the bouquet of roses in your hand before you got into the bathtub.

You had some music playing in the background, the smell of insence comforting you as you let yourself relax completely. It was hard for you to give into relaxation completely. That’s because you’ve never felt really safe but even though you knew that you were safe in your head, your body was so used to be on edge all the time that you had to remind yourself that you are indeed very safe. And it worked. Slowly but surely, you started to rewire your brain.

After a while you put your book away. You took a deep breath from relaxation and softly touched your legs. You hummed to yourself and decided to shave it. Not because you thought it was prettier, you just very much liked the feeling how your legs felt after you shaved. You put some shower foam on your legs and slowly shaved your first leg. You were so in your own space that you didn’t hear someone open the door. “Mi amor….” You heard a familiar voice say. You got startled, not expecting someone here. You looked at the familiar voice, only to be met with the softest brown eyes in the entire world. “Pedro…?” you asked surprised, but happy, to see him standing in your bathroom.

He slowly walked towards you, seeing how relaxed you were, your eyes heavy. “Oh, mi hermosa, cuanto te he extrañado (oh my beautiful, how much I’ve missed you)” he whispered as he crouched down besides the bathtub and gently placed a string of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek, making you lean into his touch. You placed your hand over his and your other hand cupping his cheek, meeting his eyes that held so much love in them that it made your heart flutter. “Pedro…… I’ve missed you so much.” You told him and couldn’t contain the urge to hug him. You moved in the bath and placed your arms around his shoulders and nuzzled your face in his neck. Your wet, naked body against his clothes and the comforting sound of him chuckling made you feel like you were home again. His arms around your waist, holding you close and tightly against his body as he kissed your head multiple times. You got your face from the crook of his neck and kissed him passionately. His hands cupping your cheek again and got out of the kiss so he could look at you. His smile bright and reaching his eyes, giving a twinkle in them.

“Took some days off. I want to take care of you. Please, let me take care of you now.” He asked you lovingly while he played with your hair and cupped your cheek again. That was the last step for you, to give someone permission to completely take care of you. He knew you found that difficult, but you knew you were ready. You smiled at him “I’d like that” you still felt fuzzy and relaxed from the weed you smoked before. Pedro had the most loving smile on his faze that it made all the butterflies come back in a matter of a second.

“You know I don’t mind if you shave or not, right?” He asked you before doing anything at all. You smiled and nodded. “I know, I just like the feeling” you chuckled softly. Pedro smiled with adoration, reaching his eyes. “Then it’s alright, mi Corazón”.

You sat back down in the bathtub and Pedro gently placed your feet on the edge of the tub so he could continue shaving your leg where you left off. His big hands gently on your skin as he shaved your leg in concentration. When he was done with one leg, he placed a kiss on your knee as he made eye contact with you. He got the scrub supplies and gently scrubbed your leg, being careful so he wouldn’t hurt you. Your heart filled with love just by seeing how careful he was with you and how much love he put in the things he did for you, just like this.

When he was done with your first leg, he got to the other, repeating the things he did with your other leg. When he was done, he placed a kiss on your forehead and cupped your cheeks again, looking lovingly into your eyes which held nothing else but adoration and love, radiating it through them. “Let’s get you out and dried up, princesa.” Pedro stood up and held up a towel for you, giving you a hand so you could get out safe. Once you were out, he wrapped the soft towel around your body. His hands still on your waist when he pulled you closer for a loving hug. His arms around you while he tucked your head underneath his chin, not caring that his clothes got a bit wet from you. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his waist, and you let the side of your head rest against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Te amo, mi amor.” He whispered in your ear. “I love you too Pedge” he smiled softly and kissed your head, his lips lingering. He got your underwear and helped you in them, your hands resting on his shoulders as he crouched down to put it on. He got the body butter and looked at you for permission. You nodded and he rubbed his hands together so his hands wouldn’t be so cold. He placed some on his hands and put it gently on your upper body. His hands gentle, making sure that he didn’t miss a spot. After he was done, he placed a top on your body. And continued with your legs. He got on one knee and placed your leg on his knee, so he had better access for your legs. His hands were soft and gentle on your skin.

He got your kimono and helped you in it with your arms. It was still a very nice temperature outside, so you didn’t need more clothes. You put your arms around Pedro again and he did the same, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. Pedro held your hand and let you to the kitchen. “Ve a sentarte afuera cariño (Go sit outside, dear.)” He told you softly and you nodded, softly letting go of his hand with a loving smile that held Pedro in a trance. You walked outside, his eyes following you with a smile upon his lips.

You sat down in a big chair, your knees up to your chest. You put some slow R&B on through the speakers and lit your new joint. You let your head fall back as you exhaled the smoke. “No puedo creer lo hermosa que eres, mi amor (I can’t believe how beautiful you are my love.)” You heard Pedro say as he walked towards you with, what looked like two mojitos. Pedro sat next to you, placing the mojitos on the table, which was lit by candles and fairy lights. When Pedro was comfortable, you got out of your own chair and sat down on his lap, making Pedro smile. His arms already wrapped around you as you got comfortable on his lap. He couldn’t hide his loving smile for you. You handed him the joint and he took it from you, taking a big puff as he kept eye contact. You smiled at him and kissed him, making him cup your cheek softly.

“How was work?” you asked him after a while when you saw him finally relaxed. He hummed a bit and started talking about his day while you listened intently to his story. You went with your nails softly through his hair and he leaned more into you as he let out a sigh. “But it’s all better now. porque estoy aquí contigo, el amor de mi vida (because I'm here with you, the love of my life)” You smiled and felt a bit flustered. “Oye, mírame cariño (Hey, look at me, baby)” he whispered, his finger underneath your chin as you looked up. He gave you a couple of sensual and loving kisses before he kissed your forehead.

He handed you your mojito and you got your book, that you were reading, from the table in front of you. Pedro drew circles on your back while you tried to find the page you left it on. When you finally found it, you let your head rest against his chest and started reading it. Pedro let his chin rest on the top of your head and started reading with you, unknown to you until you wanted to turn the page. “Wait, I’m not that fast yet.” He chuckled nervously, making you look up. You smiled that he was reading the book with you. His eyebrows knotted together as he tried to read the words, but he forgot his glasses inside. “Want me to read to you?” You asked him genuine with a smile. “I’d love that. You know I love your voice.” You smiled and gave him a quick peck on his lips before you started reading to him.

An hour got by when you put your book away and looked at Pedro, tiredly. “I’m tired, P” you told him softly and he smiled adoringly at you as he stroked your hair. “vamos a la cama, mi chica (Lets go to bed, my girl)” he told you as he kissed the side of your head and helped you stand up before he stood up.

Once again, you walked hand in hand inside of the house. “You go freshen up, princess. I’m going to put out the lights. I’ll be right back.” he told you and carefully let go of your hand.

You were doing your skincare as last when you were almost finished with the rest, Pedro walked in, smiling at you while you applied the moisturizer to your face. He strutted towards you and put his arms around your waist, letting his chin rest on your shoulder. His body pressed against yours. Pedro almost had heart eyes while he looked at you, doing your skincare routine. He knew you were almost finished as he memorized every product in your routine. When you applied the last thing, he turned you around with his hands on your waist. You looked up at him with a loving smile and giggled softly at the way he carefully stroked your cheek. “Mi amor….” You felt butterflies in your stomach and looked down shyly. “Get comfortable in the bed, I’ll be right there.” he told you, making you nod. You wanted to walk to the bedroom, but Pedro pulled you back. “I think you forgot something….” He told you, getting you confused a bit. “Dame un beso mi Chica Bonita (give me a kiss, my pretty girl.)” you giggled when he told you what you forgot and stood on your tippy toes to give him a kiss. He cupped your cheeks with both of his hands and deepened the kiss as he sighed from relaxation in the kiss. When he pulled away, he looked at you with a smile. “Now you can go.” He told you with a smile as he reluctantly let go of you. You chuckled and quickly kissed his cheek before you left the bathroom and into the bedroom.

You put on a soft warm light and crawled into bed, pushing away the mosquito net. You hadn’t closed the curtains yet, keeping the view over the ocean and a couple of lights from homes further away and of course, the garden where you just sat. You got your book and started reading where you left off. Pedro walked in the bedroom in only his boxers and smiled when he saw you all comfortable in the big bed.

You put your book on your chest for a moment and looked at Pedro who crawled in next to you. “This bed was too big without you in it… I’ve missed you…” you told him softly as you laid down on your side for a moment so you could look at him. “Yo también te extrañé, cariño. Me alegro de estar aquí contigo. (I missed you too, sweetheart. I'm glad to be here with you.)” his voice husk from tiredness, making you smile. He gave you a passionate yet sensual kiss before he softly and gently placed a kiss on your nose and forehead.

You laid down on your back, picking your book up. Pedro let his head rest on your chest, your arm around him while you went with your fingers through his soft locks. Pedro softly hummed from satisfaction of your fingers over his scalp. You noticed that he was reading along with you, so you slowed down your pace with the reading until he was done too. He softly nodded and hummed, letting you know that you could flip the page.

Your eyes started to feel heavier, and you almost dropped the book, but Pedro was fast enough to catch it and put it away. it startled you for a sec, knowing you almost drifted off. “Vamos a dormir, mi dulce niña. (Let’s get some sleep, my sweet girl)” he whispered, and you were too tired to respond so you hummed, already eyes closed as you turned on your side. You waited for Pedro to turn of the lights and to get comfortable before you could cuddle him.

Pedro didn’t even need to say anything, he already pulled you towards him to cuddle. Pedro laid down on his side, facing you, while he pulled you against your chest, his arms around you, your head resting against his chest while he tucked your head underneath his chin. “duerme bien cariño, te amo (sleep well sweetheart, I love you)” his voice soft and you were almost drifting off. “I love you too” you murmured, already half asleep, making Pedro smile and close his own eyes as well, inhaling deeply from relaxation, knowing you were in his arms again.

~time skip~

You woke up from the sunlight shining into your eyes. You groaned softly and turned around, wanting to wrap your arm around Pedro, but you were greeted by an empty side of the bed. You frowned and finally opened your eyes. You saw a note against the headboard of the bed with: “Good morning sweetheart, I’m getting some groceries, I won’t take long.” You read and let your head fall back on the pillow, glad that it wasn’t a dream that Pedro was here.

The door went softly open, revealing Pedro with a tray with breakfast on it. You didn’t expect Pedro to be back already but here he was. “Buenos días mi amor, ¿cómo dormiste? (Good morning my love, how did you sleep?)” His smile radiant and his eyes shining, making you immediately happier. “Buena, te tenía a mi lado (Good, I had you next to me.)” You told him back in Spanish and Pedro loved it when you spoke Spanish back to him.

His smile even more radiant. “And you? Did you sleep well?” You asked him as you sat up in bed. “Good. I had you next to me again.” He repeated you with the biggest grin and leaned down to give you a kiss and sat down next to you. “Made you breakfast.” He told you and placed the tray with food on your lap. He made some eggs, avocado with toast, coffee, and some fresh fruit. You smiled “Thank you Pedge.” He smiled and kissed your forehead. “You’re welcome baby girl.” He told you and stood up, walked to the other side of the bed, and laid down on his side, facing you. “So… what should we do today?” he asked, “I mean, obviously we don’t have to do anything if you want to stay here, that’s fine with me too.” You smiled and looked outside at the beautiful weather. “We could go to the beach?” You suggested and Pedro smiled. “I would love that!” he told you with a smile.

You asked Pedro more about work now that he had completely settled in and not having a bad jetlag. He chatted about the fun things and less fun things that had happened making you listen intently. You loved hearing Pedro talk about things, especially if he was very passionate about the things he talked about. You ate your breakfast in the meanwhile and couldn’t help but beam because of how happy you were that you had your Pedro back by your side. You were silently enjoying this morning and Pedro saw it, making him happy as well.

This was going to be a great day! After the beach, maybe go to the market to get fresh products to make dinner with, get a drink at your favorite beach club and just spent time with each other, because God knows you both really needed it. You were completely happy and content, not needing anything else when Pedro was around you. He was all you needed.

Part 2 maybe?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal stories #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x fluff #pedro pascal x original female character #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal oneshot #pedro pascal story #pedro pascal cute #pedro pascal sweet

387 notes · View notes

morallyinept · 7 months

Text

Five Days - A Joel Miller Series

Summary: Joel Miller comes back into your life unexpectedly after a gap of thirty years, and stirs up all kinds of memories and longing. Now, as you're stationed on an outpost for five days alone with the man you stupidly let go of all those years ago, you have a chance to confront him about your past life together and all the things you wished you’d said and done.

But Joel’s different now, and you know you need to tread carefully. Joel Miller is not the same man you once knew in another life.

A slow burn romance set in the post apocalyptic world, approx. twenty or so years after the initial Cordyceps outbreak.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Chapter Word Count: 3.8k

Series Masterlist

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: You've arrived in Jackson. Now it's time to formulate a plan on tackling the threat of the infected horde. Nothing too heavy to note here in this chapter, although there is some angst. Joel makes his appearance.

Enjoy! 🖤

Previous Chapter

The following morning, Joel Miller doesn’t hear his name being yelled over the mitre saw, lowering it to cut through the wooden beam he slides perpendicular to the blade.

Saw dust puffs out in a beige cloud at the end of the table, dispersed by the breeze, and through it he sees his younger brother coming into view.

He jabs at the button with a stubby thumb stopping the saw and wipes his blistered hands on a dank cloth hanging out the back pocket of his scuffed and beaten denim.

He feels the irritating graze of an embedded splinter already nestling into his pointer finger, and his eyes sting from the blow back. He makes a mental note to look for any goggles on his next scavenging mission.

Joel scans the work being done on the foundations to the plot on the left of him approvingly, although his expression doesn’t change; twisted up in a knot of constant frowns that's as regular as the weather. Several houses are going up as planned, and he’s on track to fill the quota he promised Maria he’d deliver by the fall.

Then he watches, with a slight mirth as he shakes his head in haughty derision, as Tommy Miller channels John Baxter from A Fist Full Of Dollars. Strutting towards him with that stupid white Stetson perched on his head, and all he’s missing is a gold star badge pinned to his lapels and a six shooter resting on his hip.

“They were fuckin’ right!” Tommy exclaims as he gavottes up to big bro.

“Who was?” Joel asks, dumbfounded.

“Shit, ya don’t know?” Tommy rattles, the jet of his hair under the Stetson appearing damp from the sweat as it catches the sun. Oiled black curls frame his grizzly face that Joel notices is ageing a little more now. Fatherhood, he presumes. “Newbies. Took ‘em in yesterday mornin', five of ‘em.”

Joel tosses down the cloth and retreats back under his workshop canopy lazily with Tommy pulling up the gauntlet. A constant shadow that plagues him when he'd rather just get on with the job at hand.

Gossip isn't his forte, despite Tommy feeling the need to run off the comings and goings of the commune to Joel on an almost daily basis. However, being in the know tends to help him navigate this tight knit community where everyone seems to know everything about everyone, much to Joel's tempestuous chagrin.

“Yeah, n’ what are they right ‘bout exactly? Forgot m'crystal ball today.” Joel drinks from a cloudy glass of homemade lemonade that’s far too sour for his liking; needs more sugar, he thinks.

His brown eyes squint out into the sunlight making them look amber as he sucks the tart taste from his tongue. He's made a whole jug of this shit and it ain't gonna go down too well with his hiatal hernia, despite being parched from working in the heat all day.

“There’s a horde of infected, ‘bout fifteen klicks from here. S’big.” Tommy explains.

Joel eyes him narrowly over the rim of the glass. “How big?”

“Least a thousand strong, they reckon. Wiped out their camp. Poor sons o’ bitches.” Tommy leans against a pile of standing wood beams and it clatters, unsteadying him.

Joel lances him a pissed off look and pushes him out the way to neaten it up again. He’s always coming by and messing with his shit.

“Thousand strong?” Joel mutters out through a strangled gulp. A subtle tightening is felt in the centre of his chest, but he does his best to wring it out before it can unfurl. Some days it's easier than the others.

And catching the splinter in his finger as it scrapes against the wood brings the sting to his focus and he winces. "They sure 'bout that?"

“Yeah. We sent scouts. They just got back."

"Shit," Joel murmurs, sucking his finger, gnawing at the irritation. He can already feel his blood start to ice over at Tommy's revelation.

"Y’ever heard of anythin' like that? They evolving or somethin'?” Tommy enquires.

“S’possible. Behaviour could change.” Joel shrugs and thinks on it for a moment. “Maybe they know there’s no-one left in the cities anymore. Finally picked 'em clean.” Joel grits his teeth and carries on arranging the planks.

He catches Tommy's look which mirrors the concerned ticking in his own mind.

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence, congregatin' like that.” Tommy shrugs.

Joel shakes his head, tipping back the remaining lemonade with a hiss around his teeth as it burns his gums. Joel doesn’t believe in coincidences.

Or much more than that these days.

“Maria’s formulatin' with their leader, planning on doin' something ‘bout it. Need you in on this.” Tommy states clearly.

“No, ya don’t.” Joel remarks sourly and turns back to the saw. “M'busy.”

“I ain’t askin’,” Tommy says and Joel's shoulders hunch up.

Joel contemplates it, contemplates strangling him, but nods in defeat as he runs his hand around his aged scruff as his younger brother stares him down into submission. His forehead sweats as he adjusts to the mounting predicament they face.

“M’gettin’ too old for this gallivantin’ around shit, Tommy.” Joel sighs.

His last supply run hadn’t gone so well; ended up with a twisted knee and returning a little worse for wear. He was still tired from days of sleeping rough on hard grounds, from fighting with infected that came his way.

From listening to Tammy and Garret bicker non-stop the whole way there, and then fucking like jacked-up rabbits, thinking he couldn’t hear them when they made up, stuffed clumsily and too tightly into one sleeping bag.

He was always paired up with them as of late for some unknown reason, probably to test him further when Garret would harp on about how using magic erasers would literally clear the dirt and gunk off of anything in a pinch. Is that so? Joel could only reply whilst his fingers became heavier and itchier on the trigger of his rifle.

Probably orchastrated to alert him to his own sense of loneliness too. Everyone, or at least it felt like that, was part of a pair in the commune.

Friends, lovers... and some days it only served to remind Joel at how he was an obvious smear on that schmoozed harmony that orbited around him.

Maria had tried - or rather forced - to pair Joel up with unwitting and unwilling suitors, fearing that the longer he was left to fester by himself, the more of an unhinged liability he was in some way.

He'd agreed, after much wearing down, to a date with Carrie, just to stop Maria from meddling. Although, if what constitutes as a date these days is an over-cooked meal in the Tipsy Bison, where Carrie and Joel were sat on the same table in stunted, awkward silence, whilst everyone around them gawked and whispered like they were in a fish bowl for their amusement, well... Joel wasn't keen to repeat the experience.

Carrie's boy was of similar age to Ellie and apparently that was enough to make her Joel's soulmate.

He was inclined to disagree.

After a frank conversation, and a bitch-fest to Tommy about his woman getting all up in his personal grill, Maria had backed off and left him to his own singular devices.

Joel just preferred the quiet now.

Preferred that to the unzipping of his skin for someone else to bear witness to the horror of his insides that were rotten and tightly wound around his bones like dried out vines.

Despite the nauseating sounds of Tammy rutting like a Red Wattle hog with Garret a few yards from him, somewhere in the back of his mind, Joel would still reminisce about the touch of a woman and how it had been a long time, despite his resistance to it.

And then his mind would think of all his past failures in the dating department and then he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore after that, so would get up and remove himself away from the incessant humping, and try not to shoot himself in the face in the middle of nowhere.

Joel needed rest, needed some damn sleep.

Needed to get these houses up whilst Tommy ran around playing Sheriff, and to stay busy. Keep the thoughts at bay, keep the fear locked up tight in the box he tried - and often failed at, keeping the lid on.

“Ah, we'll fix ya up with some retirement home later. Ya ain’t dead yet, old man.” Tommy replies.

“No. But you will be.” Joel tosses the cloth at him and a small, guarded smile slips off his lips. “T’fuck is that on ya head anyhow? Y'look like fuckin' Woody.” He flicks the Stetson.

Tommy’s face softens as he claps Joel on the back. “Y'eat any breakfast yet?”

Joel shakes his head, feeling the constant loss of his appetite standing in solidarity with him.

“Come on, I’ll buy ya some eggs.”

“What with? Ya ain’t gon’ buy me shit,” Joel snickers, allowing Tommy to drag him towards the bar.

That same morning you’re sitting in The Tipsy Bison with Kelper and the others of your group having some breakfast of your own.

Guthrie eats one-handed with furtive peepers darting madly around the place, and Sal just seems happy to be able to taste bacon again, moaning in orgasmic delight as she crunches around the crispy rind.

Max is fumbling his way through sloppy mouthfuls of mushy oats as he talks with Kelper. You’re still amazed at the variety of food that’s on offer, but the wary faces around you all cut into that enjoyment somewhat.

Their eyes are cautious, yet curious. As you meet some of them, they immediately look away.

Maria’s in the bar with her baby in her arms; a dribbling bundle of gurgles that’s cute as he is loud when he screams. She reassures you all, as she does the rounds, that everyone will soon warm to you; that it’s normal for any newcomers to be looked upon scathingly.

And you agree; you were all just as wary of intruders bundling into your peaceful harmony when your own group welcomed them in. You have to earn people's trust, it’ll take some time.

You get up to dispose of your plate, there’s table service in The Tipsy Bison, but you want to feel useful and at least try to give something back in return as thanks, no matter how small the gesture.

These people are trying to create a normal world within a chaotic one, but manners still exist.

And it fractures you for a moment at how everything seems so… normal around you.

Laughter, chatter. Everyone seems so carefree. Like the stillness has ground everything to a halt, frozen in a snapshot of time gone by that you still pine for; a hedonistic wonderment that's still craved in your blood. It's surreal, almost unsettling.

You can feel it thrash around in your squally gut.

"Hey. You good?" Kelper's voice is beside you and his hand rubbing across the top of your spine, which melts the icicles jarring your vertebrae immediately.

You smile weakly at him. "Yeah. I'm good."

You see two men come into the bar out of the corner of your eye, talking with deep Texan accents that echo into the hollows of your bones, but you pay no mind as Kelper offers you more coffee to go, as you scrape your plate into the waste bin for food scraps.

Makes sense that they’d compost it as you read the signs informing you so. Nothing is wasted here.

You turn, smiling to Kelper, lost in listening to him regale you about something with regards to the plan for the horde, when you brush past the upper arms of one of the men, colliding with him gently.

You feel it again; the wave of it brushes over the fine hairs of your skin.

Something about that accent that echoes in the deepest corners of your mind reminds you of a hole you thought you had cemented over. A bolster of prickles floods your epidermis again, and then it's gone as quickly as it comes.

You don't stop though, not capturing his face, as he throws a muttered apology over his broad shoulder, and you toss one back as the man beside him in a white Stetson talks his ear off listlessly.

You laugh as you leave, probably a little too loudly at something Kelper quips to Max as it pulls you out of any sense of recognition that you just swam in.

You forget it instantly.

Joel looks up just to see your silhouette disappear from the window of the door; your hair flowing behind you like a comet's tail in the summer breeze. The back of your head is all he glances.

He frowns, tossing away any semblance of recall that haunts the base of his spine for a moment and shakes it off as quickly as it comes.

Somewhere deep inside of him, he’s heard a laugh like that before.

A sense of déja vu clouds behind his eyes as he predicts exactly what Tommy will say next and finishes his sentence for him, much to his younger brother's joviality.

He smiles thinly, turning back to the hot cup of brown pouring out for him and wanting to get back to work. Tommy tries pressuring him into eating something, but as Maria approaches with the now screaming baby, Joel has an excuse to finally scarper.

It's not that he doesn't enjoy his nephew, more so that he can't stand the noise he makes at these decibels in his only ear that can hear clearly.

You follow Kelper and the others outside and back towards the houses, readying to meet with Maria and the council shortly.

Kelper tells you that you shouldn’t be nervous, when he clocks how quiet you are this morning, and you're not. If anything you want to get out there and get the job done. Some revenge on those dead assholes might make you feel better for what you’ve all lost.

And Max is only too eager to agree with you as you throw him a small smile.

You stop, sighing when you realise you've left your jacket in the bar. 'I'll be back, you guys go on," you say to them as you head towards the bar entrance.

As you go to push in, you collide again with the same man coming out, and it knocks the wind out of your sails as the fleeting recognition now instantly floods through your senses, as you catch his annoyed features peering at you as his coffee sloshes over the rim of the cup.

Oh my God. No way!

Crumpled Polaroid snapshots of times long since passed rattle and hurtle across your vision as it all comes back to the forefront for you to relive in painful detail.

You feel your heart lurch into your throat for it to regurgitate out of your mouth at his feet in a bloody mess of sloppy ventricles. You feel unsteady for a moment as the whole world tips on its axis and you feel yourself swaying with it.

It boils; your heart palpitating, your fingertips thrumming.

You recognise the wide, rich brown eyes staring back at you filled with regret and longing, or at least that's what you imagine in this moment of pure unadulterated shock.

It's hard to know if any of this is real, or if you've just been shoved cruelly into some torrid dream.

His hand is crushing the coffee cup in his grip as he regards you too with instant familiarity, and something else weaving across his worn features.

“J-Joel?” You splutter, amazed. Holy shit! "It's really you."

He's mute. He hears his name roll out of your mouth, something he never thought he would ever hear again, and it stops time.

Unable to speak even if he wanted to as a croak similar to a toad escapes him from the back of his throat that's now closing in on him.

"W-what are you…?" You fail to finish the question as the unspoken awe crushes and winds you both.

He thought it was you, in a moment of weak, stupid delirium; was convinced it was your laugh he’d heard, but couldn’t be sure.

Couldn’t be sure if it was just another spectre haunting him.

And now that you're here looking up at him, smiling in that way he remembers suddenly, and with watery eyes, it stuns him too. Stops every coherent thought in his jumbled brain, stops his fingers burning from the scalding coffee splashed over them, and words fail him as you stand here before him - having the audacity to be alive and looking just as staggered as he is.

His feet feel like concrete blocks and someone shuffles past him out of the bar knocking into his shoulder gently with a frazzled apology, but yet he still remains frigid in his stance, unmoving.

You speak again, despite the inability to breathe now clogging the words up in your throat.

“If anybody was going to survive the end of the world, it’d be you.” You confirm with a flabbergasted smirk at him.

Your words seems so feeble and juvenile in this monumental moment.

“Only just,” he replies now, summoning the courage to speak back to you, but from where he doesn’t know. He feels like his voice is no longer his own, floating out of him like crumpled, Mylar balloons losing their helium as they sag to the floor.

“Y’were with the group?” He asks in a slow daze.

“Yeah." You nod like you have no control over it.

He nods quickly too. His heart is racing, a blend of nostalgia and anticipation that makes Joel feel sick to his gut.

His chest tightens again as the memories of you come flooding to the front of his mind, blasting out of the locked boxes he'd kept you safe inside; blinding him and deafening him for a few moments.

"This is… I can't believe you're alive." You whisper. "I thought maybe you might've-"

“No.” Joel grumbles. And it pains him everyday that he's still here and refusing to die, the stubborn fuck. "I thought... you-"

"No." You smile weakly. Evidently you're just as stubborn as he remembers too.

He shakes the coffee off his fingers and wipes them on the hem of his plaid shirt. You don’t see that they’re trembling, and he’s cursing inwardly for them to stop.

"Fuck, h-how are you?” You ask him, knowing it’s probably a stupid question of epic proportions.

How's the apocalypse been treating you, Joel?

Oh, just dandy darlin', n' you?

But words fail you and you’re running on some strange autopilot as your brain tries to catch up with what you’re seeing and process it.

It’s failing miserably.

His once sharp features are now a ghost on his face; his head is lowered a little with his neck shrinking into his collar. He seems shorter somehow, if such a thing were possible.

A muscle somewhere inside of your heart snaps.

“Urm,” Joel states to the ground, suddenly very emotionally constipated. Maybe more so than you remember. “Uh, I need to-” He throws his thumb over his shoulder and turns away instantly.

“Yeah… sure,” you nod as he abruptly leaves and takes your remaining breath with him.

There's nothing you can do but stand there, rooted to the spot as you watch him leave. A barrage of millions of unanswered questions batter you and pulverise your bones into dust.

Joel Fucking Miller, here. Of all places in what is left of this tiny, perfidious world.

You instantly think that Joel Miller must shit out Lucky Charms. That son of a bitch made it, but you’re not surprised. He was always strong where you were weak.

The world had already come to an end when Joel had disappeared out of your life, and seeing him now reminds you of that devastation, that loss. All over again.

And it seems worse than the bloodshed somehow. Worse than the constant fighting for survival. Worse than the hunger ravaging you for days on end.

Reminds you, starkly, that you never really got over the pain of it. Never really got over him.

And it's a sucker punch to your jaw that leaves a nasty contusion blooming on it now, with purple spidery veins, as you can only watch him walk away. Rooted to the spot on which you stand with your gut slowly falling out of you.

It reminds you that you'd mourned for him in the early days, convinced he hadn't made it. Then wondering if he had and if he was mourning for you somewhere in that short burst of delusion when all hope seems lost as you're on the brink of checking out.

Convincing yourself that he was searching the world over for you and you had to continue on, for him. To find him again. But of course, when you think about it, he was an after thought through the death and destruction.

And that makes you feel guilty somehow as you look at the back of his head shrinking further away.

A faint reflection in the dusty mirror of your cortex holding onto life, that had faded significantly and was replaced with thoughts that didn't expose their length or colour, other than to focus on the immediate tasks at hand.

Like, not dying.

But now, he glimmers; he burns through the membranes and sinew and blinds your eyes with the sight of him before you. He's killing you all over again.

Suddenly, the last twenty-odd years seem worth it somehow. Even if the thought is razor-wired around the ludicrous.

You watch him go, hauling his tired and heavy bones along with him, somewhat bemused, somewhat bereft. A slight limp now to his once bold strut when you knew him back in a time where the world was still just as fucked up, only differently.

The uninvited memories of him you thought you had buried, rise from their graves; marauders with rotting flesh coming to get you.

They seep back into full technicolour and booming surround sound for you to relive and experience the resentment, the bitterness, and the full elation all over again.

Joel's alive. You're alive.

And in some unexplainable, sadistic twist of fate, you're both here, thrust together into a world where the pieces of your souls, that were once laid bare and entwined tightly together in an unflinching knot, now lay at your feet in tattered shreds.

Fuck.

To be continued...

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

Thank you for taking the time to read my story; it really means so much to me. I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you so much 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know.

Tagging everyone who asked to be tagged & who re-blogged my teaser.

@secretelephanttattoo @morgaussy @darkheartgatita @sp00kymulderr @survivingandenduring @sin-djarin @lilmizmoz @yazsos @ryangoslingstanktop @barbellpedro @givemeth @anavatazes @alwaysmicado @the-blind-assassin-12 @kirsteng42 @missredherring @gasolinerainbowpuddles @millennial-teenybopper @maggiemayhemnj @harriedandharassed @stevie75 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @chaoticfestninja @reddedmiller @doughmonkey @sonderosa @magpiepillsjunior @chronically-ghosted @pedroswife69 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @marisemonteiroo @everythingiwanttoread @jjhayhay20 @blackfemalenerd @perennialdoll247 @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @sscorpiiio @untamedheart81 @srmacaroni @violinchick @orcasoul @lucyeyelesbarrow @mandrillusphinx @loveisacowboyyy @suzmagine @disassociation-daydreams @anoverwhelmingdin @within-the-depths @pedrotonin

226 notes · View notes