I decided to create a main blog for this account, instead of having it as a writing side blog. I’ll keep this one for updates so I will still post fic updates here.
But please follow me at @burntheedges! Same blog name, I just moved it to the new account. That way I can actually interact with y’all and follow you back! And that’s where I’ll post new fic (and I’ll update here).
I’m working on transferring posts, so far I moved the about me post and the main chapter list for Over Again.
Ilya Rozanov x Shane Hollander | 18+ | read it only on ao3 - ch 1 is up!
Rozanov shoved himself upright from the wall and shook his head. “Good luck, Hollander. You will need.”
Before Shane could even react, Rozanov turned and disappeared around the corner.
“Dude, what an asshole,” Jonesy said, staring after Rozanov.
or, Hollander and Rozanov, in all the moments in between.
a/n: this fic is 4 parts (mostly aligned with episodes 1, 2, 4, and 5) and it's already finished. I’ll post a chapter every weekend until we're done, starting today! (it takes me a while to format these for reasons you'll see, lol). Thank you to my always amazing beta @katareyoudrilling and @justagalwhowrites for giving it a read!! Title paraphrased from My Backwards Walk by Frightened Rabbit.
This fic exists because I was thinking about the show’s timeline and started wondering about all of the other times they would see and possibly talk to each other that we didn’t get to see. NHL teams play each other multiple times a year and the players may see each other beyond that. Their rivalry was so entrenched, so widely understood to be real, that something had to be going on in their interactions for others to look at them and only have it reinforce their understanding that yeah, those two guys fucking hate each other. I have read the books, but this is largely based on show-canon, because Jacob Tierney’s thing about how the show is structured around their memories has such a hold on me, my god. And that means the interactions we saw in the show stood out to them and maybe the others didn’t as much. And why would that be?
On the hockey: I based their hockey schedules on the real-life Boston and Montreal schedules from those years. I think I’ll post my detailed notes on the timeline in a second work in a series, maybe? I spent A LOT of time and effort on it, lol. Like the whole first month of working on this fic was the timeline.
Other notes: I mostly used the real-life All Star Game locations when not specified in canon, I skipped the 2012-2013 partial season lockout (let’s pretend the CBA negotiations went well) but kept the CBA changes (notably about how many games they play against each other per year because of the divisional realignment starting the 2013-14 season, and the fact that after the 2013 veterans don’t really have roommates on roadies), I added in normal hockey stuff like the combine, I call it the Stanley Cup because I can do what I want, and I use the real-life awards names for the same reason (Calder for Rookie of the Year, Rocket Richard for most goals, Ted Lindsey, Hart, etc. I’ll link and explain when needed).
Some (if not all) of the hockey moments are also based on real things I’ve seen in games or clips of games. I watch a lot of hockey.
I’ve used moments from the show as sort of guideposts along the way so it’s easy as the reader to figure out where we are in the timeline (I hope). I hope all of this makes sense in general, lol.
On the Russian: I speak Russian, so there’s some Russian in here. But I don’t speak 20-something fuckboy jock Russian, so fellow Russian speakers, if you have feedback on what Ilya would sound like, I’m happy to take it. Спасибо большое))
And thank you to the amazing La_Temperanza for the instructions on inserting translations via hover text and text message formatting!
tags/warnings: flirting, cursing, lots of hockey, texting, some Russian, real-life hockey stuff repurposed as i wish, a bunch of slightly off-screen sex, kissing, rimming, oral sex, dirty talk, all the in-between moments while they're falling in love, these hockey dorks have bewitched me body and soul, no use of AI because in this house we say FUCK AI
I didn't tag my tag list because this is a whole new fandom, lol. but you can subscribe on ao3! or just let me know, I'll tag you. <3
Din Djarin x f!reader | 12.2k | 18+ | main masterlist | ao3 | sequel to long gone
summary: It's been years, but you'd know those shoulders anywhere.
a/n: well well well, look who's back (it's me). This is the secret sequel I've been talking about for a million years -- it's finally done and it's twice as long as the first part (long gone). I very much recommend that you read that part first if you haven't, I'm not sure how much sense this makes without it. and thank you to @katareyoudrilling as always for being the best beta! I was going to wait and post this tomorrow but you know what, fuck it. happy 2026.
tags/warnings: a bit of angst (WAY less than the first part), a lot of flirting, touching, banter, Mandalorian kisses, feelings, a lot of feelings, talking about feelings, smut (kissing, fondling, grinding, oral (f! receiving), p-in-v sex, a bit of manhandling), pet names/praise (cyar'ika, mesh'la), reader has no description but wears clothes, has a vagina, works/worked in a cantina, and has traveled around the galaxy; no y/n
...
You’ve been on Nevarro for about a week now, and you’re pretty sure this was a bad idea.
You’d avoided the planet for years. Not that it was hard – you weren’t exactly planet hopping, after you left Takodana. You’d ended up on Birren, and you knew why. It was Inner Rim and it was about as far away from Takodana as you could get at the time.
And Birren had been fine. You’d found another cantina job and some friends and distracted yourself pretty well. Distracted yourself from what you had refused to call heartbreak.
Because he had broken your heart. This many years later you knew it to be true. He’d walked out and you’d felt a hole open up inside your chest that you hadn’t even realized he’d filled. He snuck inside of your heart and took up residence without you even noticing.
You’d known, immediately, that he wasn’t coming back.
So you left. Grabbed a transport out, headed coreward, where you knew he rarely went. Eventually you’d made a friend on another transport and followed them home to Birren. You liked it there well enough.
It wasn’t until years later, when you’d started to think maybe you should think about moving on again, that you realized what you’d done.
You finally got a good look at a chart – something you’d studiously avoided – and realized that when you ran, you ran closer to the planet you’d never forget the name of, even though you’d never been there yourself.
Nevarro.
It wasn’t exactly next door, but you were far closer to it than you had been on Takodana. You could only laugh. You’d run from him and everything that could possibly remind you of him, and now here you were, light years closer.
What were the odds?
You very carefully did not notice just how far he’d had to go out of his way to get to Takodana. Nothing good would come from letting yourself think about that.
Anyway, you hadn’t hopped the next ship to Nevarro. You’d traveled a bit after saving money for years and deciding to actually use it. Your old friend, the same one you’d followed to Birren, was heading to Coruscant, and you figured you might as well see it once. From there you actually planet-hopped a bit until one day you found yourself on a transport headed down the Hydian Way.
And you knew what planet was on the Hydian Way.
Should I bother? You worried over it constantly during the trip, as the planet itself got closer and closer. He’s probably not there anymore, if he ever was. He never actually said. You sighed to yourself. And we never made each other any promises.
In the end, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to see it just once. But when you stepped off the ship and onto Nevarro’s ashy soil, you grimaced. Black and grey soil, lava, no greenery in sight – it wasn’t exactly what you’d pictured.
As you’d walked towards the town, you’d wondered what you were even doing there. What if you did see him? He didn’t want to see you, that much was clear. He had made that more than clear.
What am I doing here?
It was a question you’d asked yourself more than a few times since you arrived on Nevarro, and you ask it again now as you stand in the market.
You turn towards your temporary dwelling and bite your lip. It’s been a week, and the town is not that big. He’s clearly not here. Why did I even come?
You reach inside your pocket for your comm, wondering if you’ve received any messages that might distract you. But you realize when you do, that it’s not in your pocket.
Groaning, you let your head fall back for a moment and look up at Nevarro’s sky. You sigh and you turn to retrace your steps.
And that’s when you see him.
It has to be him. His armor is different now, but the helmet alone is so familiar it freezes you in place. The light glints off of it, catching your eye, and you can’t help but trace the outline of his body.
Those are his shoulders, alright.
You stare for much longer than you’d care to admit before you realize he’s staring right back at you.
That he was already looking at you when you turned around.
He’s already seen you.
I can’t…
You gasp, comm forgotten, and spin, speed walking out of the market.
How long was he looking?
The shape of his helmet burns in your mind and you feel tears well up, tears that you haven’t cried for this man in years.
You’re almost there, only feet from the doorway, when a voice rings out that stops you in your tracks.
“Cyar’ika.”
…
Din turns into the market, on his way to see Karga, and is brought up short when a glint of light catches his attention. He looks closer and realizes it’s the bright light of Nevarro’s sun reflecting off of a bronze clasp on a bag strapped around a very familiar shape.
Before he can stop himself, he’s staring.
Distantly he knows he’s in the middle of the path, blocking everyone and everything, but he can’t do anything about it. He can’t do anything but stare. He’s frozen, rooted to the spot, incapable of turning away.
Din hasn’t seen her in years.
Years.
And all it takes is a glimpse of her profile, the corner of her smile, the curve of her hips, and he’s thrown years into the past.
He’d know her anywhere, anytime. Any place. He drinks her in now like a man who spent every second of every day since he last saw her stranded in the desert, dying of thirst.
He doesn’t often let himself remember that moment, that pain. He knows now that he’d panicked. He’d heard her ask about where he was from, heard her say there were bounty hunters on Takodana. And then the word “Nevarro” had crossed her lips and from that moment his mind was nothing but static. He was all adrenalin, all flight response, nothing but his training driving him.
He had to leave, he had to run, what if they knew he was here? What if they connected him to her?
What if she was in danger because of him?
The covert. He remembers now how he’d kicked himself, at the time. How that had made it worse – his first thought hadn’t been his duty, his responsibility. No, the thought that drove him to jump off the bed and reach for his armor was her. It was only after she stood to follow that he thought of the people he was supposed to protect.
It had to stay secret. What is he doing here? “This was a bad idea,” he remembers saying, and won’t let himself remember the way her face had looked when he’d said it. No, he sees it enough in his dreams. “I shouldn’t be here” – he knows he’d said something like that, but all he remembers of that moment is the way his entire body had been alert with panic, the way his mind was racing. How could he have put the covert in danger like this? What was he thinking?
When he’d looked at her again, the emotion on her face had struck him like a knife to the chest. But he had to go back home – had to stop letting himself get lost in useless dreams. You have a duty, he remembers telling himself. This is the way.
All he could do to protect her was make her promise to never tell anyone she knew him. Even as he said it, even as he ruined whatever it was he’d found, he’d known. He’d known then that he would never stop thinking about her for the rest of his days.
He stands there, now, in the middle of the market, looking at her smile, and remembers how her face had crumpled, then, when he said he should never have done it.
All he’d wanted was to touch her. But that was impossible, and all he could do was apologize.
Din remembers cursing himself and his carelessness when he realized he couldn’t even explain it to her. Couldn’t even tell her why. All he could do to keep her safe was to leave.
He didn’t want to leave.
But it didn’t matter what he wanted. It didn’t matter that he only realized how much he cared the moment he turned away, that he knew he’d somehow fallen in love the moment the door shut behind him. He wonders sometimes if it had been selfish, to let himself admit it aloud – if only to himself – in the moment he left her forever. He figured he’d never know. Even when he couldn’t stand it any longer and went back to Takodana, months later, only to find her gone; he supposes he couldn’t regret it. Even if he’d only gotten to say it once, he’d still gotten to say it. To tell her what she meant to him in the only way he could allow himself.
Cyar’ika.
He closed himself off after that. Why bother looking, when he’d already found her and couldn’t have her? When he’d never see her again?
But watching her now in the market on Nevarro, Din feels something in that corner of his heart that even Grogu can't touch – he feels it shake off years of dust and crack open in his chest.
…
You can’t breathe. Your entire body is frozen, chest and lungs unmoving, as his voice washes over you. That word.
You don’t turn around, but you feel him step closer. You look down when a hand appears in your peripheral. It’s wearing a familiar glove and it’s holding your comm.
“You dropped this,” he says, and suddenly, you’re furious.
Spinning around, you barely notice you’ve dropped your bag of purchases on the ground as you snatch your comm from his hand. He leans away and almost takes a step back at your glare, clearly startled.
“That’s it?” you demand, hands finding your hips. You stand tall in front of him and watch as he tilts his head at you.
“... what?” he sounds genuinely confused, and that pisses you off more.
“Nothing for years and all you’ve got for me is my comm?” It’s pulsing through you now, this indignation that took root the last time he walked out your door but hasn’t had reason to flower until now.
Mando’s shoulders hunch up around his ears, and you watch as his hand makes a fist and then releases. “I–”
You shake your head. “No, actually. I don’t want to hear it.” You spin again in place, head shaking, hand trembling, and reach for your fob to your apartment.
A large, warm hand gently catches your elbow.
“Wait,” he says, and you shiver despite yourself. That voice. “Wait, please. That’s not… that’s not all.”
He’s almost pleading, and you feel the anger start to leach out of you. “It’s not?” you ask, and you can’t help the hope that bleeds into your voice. Even after all this time, you can’t help but hope there’s a reason to hear him out.
You look over your shoulder and realize he’s standing right behind you. You look up and meet his visor. His hand is still cupping your arm.
“Can we… can we talk?” He asks, voice low. You can’t tell for certain, but it feels like he’s watching your face.
You let your eyes dance over his helmet, the only face of his you’ve ever known, and then look down to his shoulders. They’re tense, and you can tell he’s nervous. Maybe not, you think. Maybe I can’t read him anymore. You frown at the thought.
“If we talk,” you say, slowly turning to face him, “is it going to end with you walking out the door…" he lets go of your arm but doesn’t lift his hand – his fingertips slide softly along your upper back as you turn, making you shiver, before finding a grip on your opposite arm as you face him, “never to be heard from again?” His hand tightens on your arm, not painfully, but you can feel the tremor behind it. You swallow roughly. “Because I can’t do that again, Mando. I won’t do that again.”
He’s shaking his head before you’ve finished speaking. “I– I won’t. I pr–” he’s tripping over his words, and you blink, startled. You’ve never heard him this unraveled, but then, it’s been years since you’ve heard from him at all. He takes a deep, slow breath, and then lifts his visor to look in your eyes again. “My name is Din.”
Your mouth drops open. You stare at him, mind blank, nothing but the word Din echoing inside of you. His name?
“What?” you breathe, shocked.
“Din Djarin,” he says again, and you suck in a sharp breath. “I should have told you that before.”
You stare at him for a moment. He shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable under your silent gaze. You nod and spin on your heel, breaking his grip on your arm.
“Well, Din,” you say, and you hear him trip over the step in front of your door. “Let’s talk.”
…
Din follows you inside, and you move to put the table between the two of you without consciously thinking about it. Your mind spins into the past when he touches you and you need some space to think.
Looking at him now, in what has been your home of just a couple of weeks, you find yourself speechless. What do I say? you wonder, at a loss.
Din might still be able to read you, too, because he steps into the gap. “Where did you go after Takodana?”
You blink. “How do you know I left?” You regret the question instantly, because obviously you’d left, you were here, on Nevarro. But he speaks before you can take it back.
“I went back.”
His words slam into you like blows and you gape at him. “You… what?”
Din seems to shrink a bit before sighing and squaring his shoulders. “I went back. About…” he trails off, maybe doing some mental calculations. “Three seasons later.”
Your mouth drops open, and then you close it. You shake your head. “That’s not long after I Ieft.”
Din seems to take that truth like a blow, too, taking a step back and shaking his head. “Not long?” he says, repeating your words back to you, voice strained.
You shake your head again. “No. And from there, I wandered. Birren, Coruscant… some other places.” You swallow and straighten your shoulders. “I… couldn’t stay.”
He’s silent for a moment, and you wonder what he’s thinking about. The silence stretches, long enough that you shift your weight. You’re about to open your mouth, wondering if you should fill it, when he speaks again.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is stilted but you’re certain it’s sincere, you remember enough to know that. You blink in surprise. Despite everything, you hadn’t expected an apology. Not after this long.
You search for something to say in response – too late? Why now? Are you, really? – but the truth is something you’ve fought long and hard to come to terms with over many sleepless nights, and it’s what you settle on now. “You don’t have to apologize, Mando. We didn’t make each other any promises. Remember?”
He lifts his hand towards you but clenches it into a fist, and lets it drop back by his side. He takes a careful step towards the end of the table and says, “maybe not out loud. I know what we said. But I made you promises in other ways. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that until after I left.”
You tilt your head, confused, thinking over his words. “In other ways?”
He nods and takes another step around the table. “With my body. And my actions.” A shiver runs up your spine, lightning quick, and you inhale sharply. “And please. Call me Din.”
You’re starting to feel like you’re not really present in your body. It’s all so much. Mando – Din – is here, real, in front of you, and he’s apologizing. You blink, dazed.
“Mando–” you say it without thinking, barely able to form thoughts in the face of his sincerity.
“Din. Please, cyar’ika.”
“D– Din.” You pause, considering the way his name feels on your tongue as you watch him. He steps closer and you realize that you’re suddenly standing on the same side of the table. You reach out to one of your chairs to steady yourself. “I… ok. Thank you for apologizing.” You swallow with difficulty. He’s standing so close now. “It’s nice to–- I thought…” you trail off, looking at him, and admit something you thought for sure you wouldn’t. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
He steps closer until he’s standing within arm’s reach. Your heart is racing, but not out of fear. Never out of fear of this man.
“How long are you here?” he asks, voice low. The air between you feels tense.
“As long as I want, really,” you say, a bit thrown at the change in topic, and you try to smile. “I’m a bit of a wanderer, these days. I’d need a job eventually.” You stop yourself before you can do something wild like promise to stay for a long time. You have no idea where this conversation is going and you’re starting to feel overwhelmed.
He’s still looking at you, and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.
“Can I see you again?” he asks. He sounds tense, but he’s completely focused on you and your answer. You can feel it.
You nod, but then you can’t help but say, “Yes but I… I can’t do that again, M– Din.”
He shakes his head. “What if I..” he reaches out and grasps the back of the chair, hand only a few inches from your own. You stare down at it. “What if I said it wouldn’t be like that again?”
You keep your gaze on your hands that are almost touching. His familiar glove threatens to draw up memories you’ve avoided for years. “What?”
“Cyar’ika, everything… it’s different, now.” He takes a deep breath and tightens his grip on the chair. You still don’t look at him. “I wanted to stay.” The words sound like they’re being pulled from somewhere deep inside of him, somewhere you’d seen before but never touched. “I wanted to stay so badly. I couldn’t… and I thought I had put you in danger. I couldn’t let myself–”
You blink. Wait. You furrow your brow and look up at him, finally, and find his visor still trained on you. “Wait. Din. None of those bounty hunters even glanced at me, they didn’t– they weren’t after me.”
He shakes his head again. “It’s not… I’ll explain. I’ll explain everything. But please, it won’t be like that this time. I promise.”
You’re silent for a long moment. You can’t tell what he’s asking for – for what you had before? The pretense of “just sex”? To talk, to explain? Something else? Something more? As you look at him, taking your time to study him, he shifts his weight again, nervous. It makes you smile. You might still know this man, the man under all of that new, shiny armor, after all.
“We go slow,” you say, voice firm.
He stares at you for a moment and then leans closer. “What?”
“If– if we do this.” You gesture between the two of you with the hand that isn’t holding onto your chair for dear life. “We take it slow. I can’t.. We can’t start where we left off, Din.”
“I know, cyar’ika, I–” he interrupts, but you keep going.
“Not even if I, ah, if…” you trail off and bite your lip. You look down at his hand again and see that it’s almost touching yours.
You feel a sudden touch to your chin and realize it’s his other hand, gloved, oh-so-lightly brushing against your chin to lift your gaze. His touch brings you back to yourself, back to your body, and you’re suddenly more present, more real than you have been for this entire conversation. You let him move you and look at the visor again. “Not even if what, cyar’ika?” he murmurs, and you know you’re caught.
“Not even if I want to, still,” you admit. He freezes in place, and then you gasp when his fingers lightly cover yours on the back of the chair.
“That’s probably smart,” he agrees, voice low. You know that voice, that pitch… and it makes you shiver now, just like it did then. “Slow,” he says, and you realize his finger is still under your chin when he extends it to lightly trace along your jaw. “We can do this however you want, cyar’ika. I’ll do anything you want.”
You blink, dazed again. “Ok. Then I have a question.”
“Anything,” he promises, and you smile.
“What’s that mean? Cyar-ika?”
He freezes, and you can’t help but grin. His finger brushes over your cheek, like he can’t help but touch. “I’ll tell you next time,” he says, a bit strangled, and you laugh.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
…
Din agreed to meet her the next day, in the afternoon, for a walk.
The idea alone makes him smile behind his helmet, where no one could see it. A walk? When was the last time he’d gone for a walk?
He spent the entire night tossing and turning, unable to believe his luck in finding her again. Finding her here, on Nevarro. Finding her willing to give him some kind of chance.
He’s there on time, right in the spot she pointed out the day before, leaning casually (or so he hoped) against the wall when she appears.
“Ready?” she asks, smiling at him. For a moment Din can’t speak, can’t breathe, can only trace the shape of her smile with his eyes and resist the urge to reach out and touch.
When it starts to fade, he realizes he’s been quiet for too long. “Ready,” he agrees, voice rough. He smiles when he sees her shiver.
“I thought we could walk towards the shipyard,” she suggests, falling into step next to him. “I haven’t really seen the lava flats much. Thought I might get a closer look.”
He nods. He’ll go anywhere she wants. “Alright.”
They start walking, and Din starts to look for something to say. The entire conversation yesterday felt like it had happened to him, like a wave that crashed over him, rather than something he took an active part in. He remembers everything he said – and kriff, had he really said all of that? – and while it had all been true, he can’t believe he actually said it.
Before he can berate himself more for the deepening silence, she speaks. “Do you still have the Crest?”
Din grimaces and shakes his head. “No.”
“Oh no,” she turns towards him, eyes wide, and reaches out to touch his arm. He stops walking, halting at her touch. She starts to pull away but he reaches over and closes his free hand over hers atop his forearm before she can pull back. “Did something happen?”
He stretches his neck from side to side and then nods. “It… got blown up.”
“What?!” she cries, squeezing his arm, and he can’t help but smile, knowing she can’t see it. She looks so torn, so upset, and he knows it’s on his behalf. He hadn’t wanted to see it back then, but she knows him so well.
“It’s a long story,” he says, turning and starting to walk again but with her arm looped through his.
She throws him a wry look and he grins under the helmet where she can’t see. “Well, we have time,” she says.
Din nods. They do, and so he tells her about all of it – finding Grogu, losing the Crest, losing him, getting him back, their new life here on Nevarro. It takes them out to the shipyard, in a wide arc around the parked ships, and the beginning of the walk back, with plenty of questions and reactions that make him smile along the way.
“You have a son?” she exclaims when he tells her about Grogu, and the joy he feels when he nods must be visible to her somehow because she smiles softly. “I can see it,” she murmurs.
“Yeah?” he asks, suddenly needing reassurance. She knew him when he was young and not exactly at his best, so if she thinks so…
She nods. “Yes, definitely. I know we stayed away from… personal topics, but you were the kids’ favorite, you know? The ones who used to hang around the square outside of the cantina. They talked about you for weeks after every visit.”
He blinks, startled. Kids usually like him, that much is true – they don’t know to be afraid. But he had no idea. “Really?”
She laughs. “Really. But wait, Din, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe you lost the Crest! That must have been so horrible. For you and for Grogu.” She reaches over and squeezes his arm again. At some point during his story they unlinked their arms, just for practicality’s sake, and he feels warmed again at her touch.
“It…” he trails off. No one has outright said it to him, not like that. He knew he missed her, but kriff. “It was. Horrible.”
She nods. “I haven’t had a home like that, well.” She laughs, but it doesn’t sound happy. He is realizing that he still remembers everything he learned about how she talked and moved and gestured – everything about her. “Maybe not ever. Losing it must have been so hard.”
Somehow her sincere sympathy makes him feel able to talk about something he normally avoids even thinking about. “I have to apologize for something. Again.”
“Oh?” she says, looking at him expectantly.
“I, um,” he shakes his head. “I might have taken one of your bracelets… before. But I don’t have it – it was on the Crest, when…”
“Oh!” she says, and her hand flies to her wrist where he can see a few new bracelets, still colorful, clearly recently made. They’re lovely, as always. “I forgot! I remember, after you left, I noticed one was missing.” She gasps and reaches over to shove him lightly. He lets himself stumble and she laughs. “You thief!” He laughs, too, smiling as she does. “I can’t believe you.”
“I, um,” he says, reaching for whatever courage he had the day before that allowed him to talk so much about all of this. “I didn’t admit it to myself, not for a bit, but I didn’t want to leave. I wanted…” he sighs. “I went back with no plan, no idea what I was going to say, just knowing I wanted… you. But–”
“But I was gone,” she says, furrowing her brow. He doesn’t like the crestfallen look on her face and reaches out to take her hand.
“You were, but I’m the one who left first.” She still looks upset, and he suddenly wishes he hadn’t brought it up. “And we’re here now.”
The corner of her mouth quirks upwards, just a bit, and Din feels his shoulders relax in response.
“What brought you to Nevarro, anyway?” He realizes she never said, and he can’t help but ask. To his delight, she drops her eyes and bites her lip. He knows that tell. Whatever it is, now he has to know.
“Well,” she starts, and peeks up at him without raising her chin. He grins and squeezes her hand. “I’ve been traveling, like I said.”
“Mm,” Din agrees, leaning closer.
“And for a long time I maybe avoided this… corner of the galaxy. But last year I found myself on a ship that traded along the Hydian Way.”
He tilts his head. “On purpose?”
She shrugs. “Sort of. I wasn’t admitting it to myself yet, but I never stopped wondering.”
Din steps just a bit closer. He’s close enough now that he could lean forward and touch his forehead to hers. Slow, he reminds himself. He doesn’t. “Wondering? Did you come here to find me, cyar’ika?”
She tilts her head back and forth and he smiles at the familiar gesture. He’d seen her do that so many times when she was telling him stories about her coworkers, lounging around in her apartment. “Not completely? I had no idea if you’d still be here. It was more that…” she trails off and he brings his free hand up to trace his fingertips over her cheek. He wishes he wasn’t wearing gloves. The memory of her skin under his hands is so distant, so worn at the edges in his mind. “More that I was maybe ok with the possibility of seeing you again. And I really never stopped being curious about this place.”
When she speaks, her lips brush against his glove, and he has to bite back the sound that threatens to leap from his mouth. “I’m glad. I might have been able to find you, if I’d tried. But I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
She studies him. He could always tell when she was doing this, looking at him like she was looking for something. Whatever it is this time, it seems like she finds it, because she smiles. “I might have yelled at you if you did.”
“More than you did here?”
She laughs and he can’t tear his eyes away. “Much more. You can only tell me your name once, you know. And I was way angrier back then.”
He smiles sheepishly and ducks his head. “I missed you, cyar’ika. I would have let you yell at me as much as you wanted.”
She’s silent for a moment, long enough that he looks up. Her eyes are narrowed. “It’s next time, Din.”
“What?”
“You said you’d tell me next time. What that word means.”
He feels himself flush under the helmet, glad as always no one can see it. “Oh. Well. I know we said slow.”
Her eyebrows fly upwards. “Oh, well now you have to tell me.”
Din sighs and leans forward, so close their foreheads almost touch. “Cyar’ika…” he murmurs, and watches a shiver travel across her shoulders. “Means sweetheart. Or something close to it. But… more.”
Her jaw drops, and she stares. “Sweetheart?”
He nods.
Suddenly her hand tugs free of his, but before he can protest she grabs him by both shoulders. “Din. Djarin.”
“Yes?” He loves the way his name sounds on her tongue.
“Are you telling me,” she asks, squeezing his arms, “that right when you walked out of my life,” he winces at the look on her face, “when I was standing naked in my apartment,” he tries to shrink, but she won’t let him, “you called me something more than sweetheart?”
He clears his throat. “Yes.”
She gapes at him, clearly incredulous, before laughing. She lets her head fall forward lightly until it rests against his own. He sucks in a sharp breath at the gesture. She doesn’t— she can’t know—
“Din,” she says, interrupting his panicked thoughts, and her voice is warm again. He takes a deep breath.
“Cyar’ika,” he says, and he means it. He means it every time.
She laughs weakly. “You are very bad at this.”
It’s his turn to laugh. “I know. I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head, still touching his, and he feels something like a tremble in his knees. He shifts his weight without breaking contact with her.
“Back then… I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed to choose things. For myself.”
She draws back and he misses her instantly. “What?”
“I had… responsibilities. I’ll tell you about it. But I wasn’t free to choose. And I wasn’t a good man.”
She frowns at him. “No.”
“No?” He realizes that at some point in the last few minutes his hands have come to rest on her hips, and it felt so natural he didn’t notice. He resists the urge to squeeze.
“The good man I know was always in there, Din. You’ve always been good.”
He’s speechless, split open by her words. She knew him. She knew him better than anyone, really, even without all the details he still owed her.
And she thought he was good.
“Will you come to dinner? I want you to meet Grogu.”
She smiles, so wide he can’t help but squeeze her hips lightly after all. He never wants to let go. “I’d like that.”
…
Two days later you follow Din’s directions, walking through the town and then into the outskirts where most of the new houses have been built. You’re taking deep breaths, trying not to be too nervous, but you’ve been thinking about it all day – meeting Grogu. Seeing where Din lives.
You’d dreamed about that sometimes, before. Couldn’t stop yourself from imagining him in a home, some kind of home, on some other planet you’d never seen.
This house is new, of course, so it’s not where he lived back then. But something about going to Din, instead of him coming to you… it’s making you feel excited and anxious and overwhelmed. You’ve barely known what to do with yourself.
And there it is.
You take a moment to study it. It’s charming, with little touches that show a family lives inside. You look over the windchimes hanging from the roof, the little frog figurine by the bench on the porch, the curtains you can see through the window. All of it makes you smile.
You take a deep breath before walking up to the door, blue cookies in hand. You knock.
When the door flies open, Din isn’t standing behind it.
Confused, you look around and then down. When you see who opened the door, you grin.
“You must be Grogu!” you say, kneeling down. The small, green, adorable child smiles back at you and makes a cooing noise. “It’s so nice to meet you!” You reach out tentatively with your hand, unsure of how to say hello. Grogu squeals and touches his claw lightly to your fingertip.
“I see you’ve already met,” a deep voice says from above you, sounding very amused. You look up to find Din standing over both of you in the doorway.
“Hi,” you say, smiling. Grogu chirps a greeting and you look back down at him. He’s stepped closer to you, still smiling, and reaches out to poke the box of cookies with his claws. “I see you’ve found dessert.”
Din laughs and reaches down to scoop up his son. “He loves those things. Of course that’s the first thing he sees.” He looks down at Grogu, who looks back at him and giggles.
You stand slowly, absolutely charmed by seeing Din with his son. “I’m glad I brought them.”
“Come in,” Din says, and steps back to invite you inside.
As you step into their home, you can’t help but look around. There’s a living area to your left with a low couch – you smile at the very fluffy green blanket thrown over the back. The kitchen area appears to be straight ahead, and then a short hallway to your right must lead to the sleeping quarters. You can see little personal touches everywhere, and your smile only grows as you notice them. Some drawings that must be Grogu’s tacked to the wall by the back door, some of his toys on the floor by the couch and on the windowsill. A large silver cabinet you presume must be full of Din’s things, probably weapons, as you can tell even from far away how well secured it is. There’s a rack by the door for shoes and you quickly toe yours off.
As you turn to look around again you realize Din is standing by the couch, where he placed Grogu, and looking at you. Your face turns hot as you realize you’ve been quiet for… you don’t know how long, gawking around his home.
“I’m sorry–”
“Do you–”
You start to speak at the same time, and then both of you pause.
“Sorry? Cyar’ika–”
“Sorry I was just gawking at all your stuff, Din–”
He cuts you off. “No, it’s fine. I want you to look.”
You step forward, not taking your eyes off of him. “It’s really nice, Din.” You smile and reach out to squeeze his hand. “It’s very you.”
“Me?” he asks, and starts looking around his own home. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” you say, and gesture downwards, “I can tell you set this area up to be as accessible for Grogu as possible. He’s pretty short,” you tease, looking down at the child. He grins back at you and makes a little noise that sounds like blub. “See, he agrees! And of course you locked up all of your stuff in that intense looking cabinet over there, out of the way.” You look back at Din. He’s feeling self conscious, you can tell by his shoulders. “It’s just obvious how much you care.”
He ducks his head. “You can see all of that? Just looking around?”
It’s your turn to feel self conscious. You shrug. “Guess so. And, um…” you trail off, not sure if you should say it.
He steps towards you and reaches out to lightly grip your upper arm. “Well, don’t stop now. And what?” He’s clearly teasing you and it helps you relax.
“And…” you look up at his visor and he squeezes your arm lightly. “And I guess I’m used to reading in between the lines, with you.”
Din tilts his head to the side, considering. “Because of the helmet?” he asks, sounding a bit resigned.
You tilt your head from side to side. “Only sort of. It’s really because you hate talking about yourself.” You grin at him. “And you know it.”
He shakes his head and sighs. “I don’t… hate it. As much. Now.”
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah?”
He laughs, and you lean towards him, smiling. “I’ve… had to do a lot of new things, since I found Grogu.”
“I bet,” you say, still smiling.
Before either of you can say anything else, Grogu squeals, loudly. You both look down to find him tugging at Din’s pants with one hand and pointing towards the kitchen with the other. .
“Seems like Grogu’s telling us it’s dinner time,” you say, charmed.
Din nods. “If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s this kid being ready for dinner.” He scoops him up again, and again you feel a little squeeze around your heart, watching Din with his son.
Get a grip. You squeeze your hands together as you follow them. Not for the first time, you wonder why Din had invited you to dinner, given that he can’t eat with you. You settle around the table and see that there are only two place settings, which doesn’t surprise you, but does make you feel a bit bad.
“Din, what about–”
He sets two steaming bowls down in front of you and Grogu. “I ate just before you got here.” He settles in across from you and seems to realize it might be weird just to stare at you while you eat, because he looks towards Grogu. “I hope it’s good. I’m still, ah, learning.”
“How to cook?” you ask, before starting to eat. It’s some kind of stew, and the smell alone is mouth watering.
“Yes, I–”
“Din,” you can’t help but interrupt. “This is good.” You look up at him and find him frozen, one hand reaching towards Grogu.
“It is?”
You nod, taking another bite. “Really good, Din. Thank you.”
He ducks his head again and you smile. “I’m glad. I’m trying to learn more for Grogu. Didn’t cook much before.”
“Makes sense.” You watch as he helps Grogu manage his spoon. “Did the Crest even have a kitchen?”
Din laughs. “No, nothing like that. Ate a lot of rations.” You make a noise, and he laughs again. “I know. This is better.”
After that, your conversation is easy. Grogu chimes in from time to time, and you marvel at how good he is at making himself understood.
When you’re both done eating, Din produces the blue cookies he’d taken at the door, and Grogu squeals. “Yeah, buddy, you can have two, ok? We’ll save the rest.” He looks over at you. “If that’s alright.”
“Of course. They’re for you.”
As soon as Grogu swallows the second cookie, he starts to droop. It’s adorable.
“Looks like someone’s ready for bed,” Din says, reaching for him. You stand when he does. “Hey, no, let me put him down, I’ll be right back. Stay?”
You nod, glad you don’t have to leave quite yet. “I’ll be here.”
Din turns the corner, and you turn towards the dishes. You smile as you start to clean up. It feels… domestic. Strange, because nothing with him before had ever felt this way.
You like it.
You finish up and turn to look over the table and jump, hand flying to your chest.
Din is leaning up against the doorframe of the kitchen, arms crossed, looking completely at ease.
“Kark!” you say, breath coming fast. “Din! How do you do that?”
He laughs and moves towards you. “Bounty hunter, cyar’ika. You didn’t have to clean up.”
You smile and shrug. “You cooked, right? I clean.”
He shakes his head, but you can tell he’s amused. “I’m glad you came,” he says, stepping closer. He’s only a few inches away from you now, and you’re pinned against the counter. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
You nod. “Alright.”
He surprises you by leaning forward and gently resting his helmet against your forehead. “Come sit with me?”
“Of course.”
He takes your hand and leads you to the low couch. When you sit, he sits right next to you and keeps your hand held between his. “It’s… difficult. To talk about this.”
“Take your time,” you say, turning towards him a bit more on the couch. You tangle your fingers with his and squeeze.
“Thank you,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, but you don’t push. You remember his silences and this one is comfortable, just like it was then, even though you know he’s going to tell you something important.
He sighs. “I said before, how I had responsibilities.” You nod. “I was raised by Mandalorians, in a covert. Here on Nevarro, after we left Mandalore. I’ll… tell you about that another time.” You squeeze his hand and he takes a breath. “We lived in secrecy, in hiding. And once I was old enough I was sent out to earn money. For the tribe. As a bounty hunter.”
A picture is starting to grow in your mind, as he speaks, filling in the gaps you always wondered about but never understood before. The details of his life that you had hoped to one day learn. You think about all of the jobs he’d done, when you knew him, and how he was always on a deadline, traveling home. Traveling here.
“We lived in the tunnels here,” he continues, “because our secrecy was our safety. I had… responsibilities. To the tribe. I couldn’t let anyone know about them. About us.” He squeezes your hand again. “I had to be so careful, cyar’ika. None of the other bounty hunters knew anything about me, even though the guild was here. And that… that was how we survived. The whole tribe, the adults, the children, all of them.”
You remember, suddenly, what you’d said to him that day. That the other bounty hunters had mentioned Nevarro. “Oh, Din. And I said–”
He shakes his head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, cyar’ika. I overreacted. Because I…” he sighs. “I wasn’t supposed to be doing what I was doing, with you.”
“What, you weren’t allowed to have sex?” You can’t help the words that spill out of you. What?
“No, that wasn’t the problem. It was… well. The feelings. The connection. I knew it wasn’t allowed, that’s why I said–”
“Just sex,” you say, the memories of your first time together echoing in your mind.
He nods. “Pretty good sex,” he says, echoing your words from long ago. His tone is wry, and you laugh. “But I was breaking the rules every time I came back, even if I never admitted it to myself. So when you said Nevarro, I panicked. I suddenly understood what I’d been doing and I ran.” He looks down at your hands. “We weren’t supposed to have… connections. Outside the tribe. And the moment I left, I knew I had broken that rule just about every way I could have. With you.”
Your heart feels like it’s swelling inside your chest. Connected. You had been connected, you weren’t imagining it then, and hearing him say it now… you feel pressure behind your eyes and try to blink it away.
“Cyar’ika? Are you–” He reaches one hand towards you, brushing away a tear from under your eye with his thumb.
You lean into his hand. “I’m fine, Din. It’s just… nice. To hear you say it.”
“Say what?” he sounds concerned, still. And you can’t help but smile, turning your face into his palm.
“That you felt it too.”
He scoots closer on the couch, somehow, one hand cupping your face and the other clutching your hand between you. “I told you. I wanted to go back. I went back, because I wanted you, cyar’ika.”
You close your eyes and breathe in shakily. “I know.” It feels like your heart is trying to burst from your chest.
Din clears his throat. “There’s more. Just… when Grogu, when I went back for him. The other bounty hunters tried to stop me. And my tribe… they saved us.”
You furrow your brow. “Wait, you mean–”
He nods. “They came out of hiding, for us. And for a long time I thought… I thought they’d died. All of them.” His voice wavers, and you squeeze his hand. You bring your free hand up to hold his, to press it to your face.
“Din–”
“Some died, but not all of them. They’re actually here on Nevarro again. They still live a bit apart, but they’re safe.”
“That’s great, Din!” you say, and you mean it, but… They’re here. Something about that isn’t sitting well with you. You’re worried, suddenly, and you know he must be able to see it when he leans closer.
“What’s wrong?”
You can’t help but smile. He can still read you. “Nothing, it’s just… they’re here. And you said, about the rules–”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not… It’s like I told you, it’s different now. It’s different for me and for them. It’s not like it was.”
You nod, taking that in. You have a feeling there’s more to it, but that’s enough to set you at ease. “Alright.”
Din’s thumb rubs gently across your cheek, and you realize you’re still tangled together. You tug on his hand lightly and pull it down to your lap. He sighs, sounding relieved. “Thank you for… for listening. I know you had no reason to–”
You shake your head. “You said it was different this time, Din, but more than that… so far you’ve shown me that’s true. I…” you trail off. “I mean, I already told you I still want...” You bite your lip. You suddenly feel like you’re out on a limb, all by yourself, even though he’s been pretty clear since you found him again.
But it doesn’t last long, because he nods. “I want you, cyar’ika.”
You feel your face start to heat up. “You said that, um. But what exactly do you want?”
Din gently disentangles his hands from yours and cups your jaw, smoothing his thumbs against your cheeks. “Not just sex. I do want sex,” he says, and you both laugh. “But I want everything with you. We can take our time and figure it out. But that’s what I want.”
You couldn’t stop the smile that takes over your face if you tried. The feeling welling up inside you is unfamiliar but so welcome. “I want that too, Din.” You laugh. “That’s not very slow of us, is it?”
He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours again. “Slow is getting harder by the day, cyar’ika.”
You nudge his head with yours. “What’s this mean? And don’t try to avoid the question, Din, I can tell it means something.”
He sighs. “You know me too well. It’s… it’s how we kiss. With helmets.”
Your jaw drops. “Din Djarin, you kissed me two days ago!”
He laughs. “Couldn’t help it, I’m sorry.”
“You’re so bad at this,” you laugh, “and even worse at going slow.”
He leans back again and you just know he’s grinning at you, unrepentant. “I know.”
“I wish you’d told me, back then – I always wanted to kiss you so bad, you know, and there was a way we could have been kissing the whole time?”
He shakes his head. “That would have meant acknowledging feelings I was pretending not to have.” He lets his hands drop and travel slowly down your arms. You shiver. “I always wanted to kiss you, too.”
You lean forward. “Well, now we can.” You touch your forehead to the helmet and you feel him take a deep breath.
“Cyar’ika…” he cups the back of your neck with his hand. It feels so good. “Thank you. For coming over.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
…
After that, you see him and Grogu almost every day. Slow, you tell yourself, over and over again, but it’s getting harder by the day. When he brings you lunch, when he introduces you to his friends, when he invites you to dinner, when his hand falls to the small of your back as you walk, when he kisses you goodbye every time, nudging his helmet against yours… you see, in everything he does, that it’s different now.
And you want it to be different so, so badly.
Two weeks after the first night you had dinner at his home, you’re in your own home alone. Your brand new home. Din introduced you to Greef Karga, who introduced you to Marta at the local cantina, who gave you a job, and who told you about this apartment… and here you are.
You look around, smiling. It’s small, with a little kitchenette and a bed that hides away and transforms into a couch during the day, but it’s all yours. You haven’t had something that’s all yours like this since… since Takodana. The idea of staying is daunting, but it also feels right. You move towards the bags you’d dropped on your small table, ready to unpack your purchases from the market, when you’re interrupted by a knock at the door.
When you open it, you’re surprised to find Din on the other side. “Din? Aren’t we meeting for dinner?”
He nods. “We are. But I had to– can I come in?”
“Of course,” you say, moving aside so he can come inside. He walks towards your living area, stops, and turns and walks towards you again, and then he’s pacing. You frown, watching him move back and forth. “Din? Is everything–”
“Karga told me. You… the cantina?”
You grin. “Yes, I got a job, and look at this apartment, it’s so cute–” He turns again and stops right in front of you. He gathers your hands in his and you can feel that he’s shaking. “Din? Are you alright–”
“Cyar’ika,” he says, and squeezes your hands. “Karga told me that you found a job, that you found a place to stay, and I… I ran here. Does this mean, are you–” He paused. “Are you staying?”
You step forwards and lean into him until your forehead nudges against his helmet. “Yes, Din. I’m staying.”
He takes a deep breath. “And you… with me?” he asks, and you can hear how difficult it is for him to ask.
“Yes. With you.”
Something inside of him seems to release, and his shoulders relax. “Cyar’ika,” he breathes, and you smile. “Are we still going slow?”
You shake your head against his helmet without losing contact. “No more slow, Din. Just us.”
For a moment he’s silent. And then he leans back from you, releases your hands, and grasps the bottom of his helmet on both sides.
The panic flashes through you, traveling like lightning from your chest down your spine. “Din? What–”
Without even pausing, he lifts it off his head. Or you assume he must, because your hands fly to cover your eyes even as you squeeze them shut. “Din! What are you doing?”
He laughs. And you can hear it, just him, no modulator. You gasp.
“Are you laughing? Din, what–”
“I’m happy. Cyar’ika,” he says, and you feel his hands – his bare hands, no gloves – wrap gently around your wrists. “It’s ok. You can look.” His voice is so deep and so real.
Your whole body is tingling, you can’t understand the words he’s saying. “I can’t, no, Din, what do you mean I can look? Of course I can’t–”
“Shhh,” he shushes you softly, and you feel him step closer until you’re almost pressed together. “Listen to me. It’s ok. You can look. I want you to. I promise, it’s ok. I’ll explain everything.” You’re breathing fast, and you feel him let go of one of your wrists to wrap an arm around your back. “Please, cyar’ika. Trust me. Just look.”
You take a deep, slow breath. “Ok, Din. I trust you.” You let him tug your hand away from your eyes and you drop both of your arms, resting your hands on his chest. Your eyes are still closed, but he cups your face in his palm. You feel his thumb run gently under your eye.
“Please,” he repeats, and you give in.
You open your eyes, slowly, and for a moment you don’t know where to look. Your eyes dart over his strong jaw, his nose, his brows, his mustache – you start to smile when you see it – until they come to rest on his eyes, warm and brown, and looking right at you.
“Din?” you whisper, and he smiles. You watch the way it changes his face and your breath catches in your throat.
“Hi, cyar’ika,” he says, voice low, and you shiver. His arm tightens around your waist and you wrap your own around his chest.
“Din,” you say, voice full of wonder. “You’re beautiful.”
He ducks his head, and you marvel at the way you can see him blush. “Not as beautiful as you,” he murmurs, and you lean forward to press your forehead against his.
“Din, why? Why now?”
He leans back from you and begins to tug you towards your couch. You follow easily and find yourself in his lap after he guides you down. You can’t take your eyes off of his face.
“I haven’t told you about this, yet,” he says, and tightens his arms around your waist. You reach up to trace his cheek with your fingertips and he leans into it like a cat. “But I’ve taken my helmet off before, for Grogu. And now…” he frowns, and you can’t help but trace the shape of it. It makes him laugh and press a soft kiss to your fingertips. “It doesn’t mean the same thing to me, not anymore. I’ll tell you all about it. But it’s ok. With you, it’s ok. Because you’re… we’re…”
“Are you sure? It hasn’t been that long, I–”
“I’m sure,” he says, interrupting your nervous words, voice firm. “I never thought I’d get another chance. And now, we’re—”
You smile as he speaks and lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek. He falls silent, blinking at you. “We’re figuring it out,” you say, “but I’m yours, Din. If you still want me.”
He grins. It’s beautiful. You’ll never get enough of just looking at him. “I’ll always want you, cyar’ika. I’m so glad I found you again.”
“Hmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I think I found you, Mr. Bounty Hunter.”
He laughs. He laughs, and you can see it happen. It’s wonderful.
“You did,” he agrees. “And I’ve been yours since the moment I saw you, you know.”
“What, here on Nevarro?”
Din shakes his head. “No. On Takodana.”
You raise your eyebrows. “When you carried that guy out of the cantina like a sack of polystarch?”
He smiles. “You have no idea how beautiful you are. And how fearless.”
You shake your head. “I’m plenty afraid, Din. I was afraid I’d never see you again. That we’d never figure this out.”
“And you tried anyway.” He cups your face with his hand again and you shiver at the feeling of his skin on yours. “Cyar’ika,” he murmurs, pulling you closer. “I’ve never done this before, but… can I kiss you?”
You feel heat crash over you and tingle down your spine at the idea of kissing this man. “Din, you can kiss me whenever you want.” You nudge your nose against his and feel his arms tighten around you.
Softly, so softly it steals your breath away, you feel his lips press against yours.
It’s overwhelming, the feelings that rise up inside you. You used to dream of kissing this man, and then for so long you pretended you forgot those dreams, and now here he is, kissing you.
It’s better than anything you imagined before.
His lips are soft, but firm, and when you tease his bottom lip with your tongue he gasps. He catches on quick and teases you right back, teases you until you’re breathing fast and writhing in his lap.
You break away for air as he presses warm kisses across your jaw and down your neck. “How are you so good at this already?” you gasp, and he chuckles.
“I haven’t kissed anyone before,” he says again, “but I’ve seen plenty of other people kiss.” He looks up at you suddenly and winces. “Um, I mean. I’ve just spent a lot of time sitting in cantinas over the years.”
You laugh and tug him into another kiss. “Sure,” you tease, and he groans. “Din,” you say, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He shivers. “We’re not going slow anymore, right?”
“Right,” he breathes, and you can’t help but grin at the effect you’re having on him.
“Like having your hair played with?”
“I guess so,” he says, sounding surprised.
You press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got great hair, you know.”
He smiles, pleased.
“Anyway,” you say, “we’re not going slow… so…”
He freezes and then whips his head up to meet your gaze. “So?”
You grin, knowing exactly how your words are going to affect him. “So take me to bed, Din Djarin. I seem to remember you were pretty good at sex, and that was without using your mouth.”
Din lets his head fall back as he laughs and you lean in to press soft kisses against his throat. He hums. “I can’t promise being good at it, but I’d love to put my mouth on you, cyar’ika.”
You shiver.
He lifts his head back up, smirking at your reaction. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, and then laugh when he pushes you up off his lap. He follows and guides you gently towards the bedroom.
Grinning, you strip off your top as you move backwards, watching as Din’s eyes fall to your chest. “Karking hell, cyar’ika, you are so beautiful.” His hands move towards you and then away as he begins tugging at his armor.
He must notice when your attention is caught, because he says, “I’ll teach you all about it later. Lie down.” HIs voice is deep and he nods towards the bed behind you.
You realize you can’t concentrate on his armor right now anyway, can’t take your eyes off his face as you strip off your leggings. When you’re bare in front of him you bite your lip and lean backwards on your forearms. “Like this?”
He’s almost done with his armor, and as he releases his chestplate he hums. “Spread your legs,” he commands softly, and you suck in a sharp breath. You let your knees fall apart and watch, mouth falling open, as he falls to his knees in between them.
Din looks you in the eye for a long moment. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to taste you. Since the first time.”
A wave of heat washes over your body as you remember that day, the first time he made you come. How he’d expertly brought you to the ledge so quickly, and how you’d thought you felt his helmet press against your pussy when you came.
You watch as he leans closer now. “I’m going to make you come on my tongue, cyar’ika,” he says, voice low. “And then I’m going to watch you come on my cock.” He presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and you feel his tongue dart out between his lips to tease at your skin.
“Din,” you breathe, and you can see the effect it still has on him, when you say his name. His eyes close for just a moment, and when he meets your gaze again, the look in his eyes makes you shiver.
Without any more hesitation, he leans forward and licks a wide stripe, tongue flattened against your pussy. You gasp and fall backwards, arms unable to hold you up. “Kark, Din, oh–”
You feel his hands glide along the inside of your thighs from your knees to your hips, and as he licks again, his thumbs come to rest against the lips of your pussy. He gently pulls them apart as he teases his tongue towards your entrance. You feel the tip of his tongue lightly circle there before he moves upwards, finding your clit easily and pressing against it softly.
Suddenly you realize that your hands are tangled in his hair, though you can’t remember when you moved them. You lift your head and look down, tugging lightly, asking, “is this–”
He nods against you, flicking his gaze up to meet yours, and hums.
You fall back down, head thrown against the bed, as he circles your clit with his tongue. “Din, what, how are you so good at this–” you cut yourself off with another sharp breath as you feel his tongue move back towards your entrance. This time, you feel him tease inside and you resist the urge to lock your thighs around his head.
His finger joins his tongue and gently teases at your entrance before slipping inside. The feeling of him, inside you after so long, sends sparks down your spine. He pulls back slightly and murmurs, “I know what you like, cyar’ika. And I’ve dreamed of learning how you taste.”
Din leans back in as his finger curls inside of you, and from there, you’re lost to his tongue and his fingers and the warmth of his body between your thighs. He hasn’t forgotten anything, you quickly realize, and you can already feel it building inside of you. He fucks you with his fingers and teases you with his tongue, and you feel it coming like a wave rushing from your feet to the tips of your fingers. You rock your hips down against his face, unable to keep yourself from moving, and moan when he only presses closer. He tugs on your hip gently, and you realize he wants you to move. You look down at him again, just to check as you thrust your hips again, and find him looking at you. He nods and you clutch at his hair as you thrust forward again.
“Din, fuck, it’s so fucking good, Din–” you sigh as he twists his fingers inside of you and tense your thighs against his shoulders. His mouth is open against your pussy and you cry out when his teeth brush gently against your clit. “Din, I’m close,” you say, tugging on his hair, but he doesn’t move away, he moves closer, humming.
It’s coming, climbing up your spine, like sparks across metal. You’re warm, so warm, but shivering all over, thrusting your hips forward in time with his fingers. You hear the sounds you’re making but it feels like they’re coming from somewhere else. Your awareness is narrowed to the softness of his hair between your fingers and the warmth of his mouth, everywhere.
On his next thrust he curls his fingers upwards again and presses his tongue flat against your clit, and it pushes you over the edge. You fall, head spinning, as the orgasm lifts you up and slams you against the shore of your bed. You float through it, gasping for air.
When you blink your eyes open after, you realize he’s pressing soft kisses all over your pussy as he slowly slips his fingers free.
“Din,” you breathe, and tug his hair again. This time he follows, and you look down to meet his eye. He looks as wrecked as you feel, face red, mouth wide open and glistening, breathing hard. “What the fuck, Din.”
He smirks. “Told you, cyar’ika. I’ve been dreaming of it.”
You laugh, suddenly overwhelmed with just how happy you feel. Din, your Mando, is smirking up at you from between your legs, where he’s just shown without a doubt that he remembers everything about you. You can see his face. You release his hair and bring your hands up to cover your own.
“Cyar’ika?” he asks, and you feel him move upwards, pressing soft kisses all over your torso. You feel his weight settle over you before he gently grasps your wrists and moves your hands. “Are you ok?”
He’s so close, his lovely face so concerned, and you can’t help but grin widely at him. “I’m great,” you tell him, wrapping your arm around his neck. “And I’ll be even better when you fuck me.”
Din laughs and you watch, entranced, as it plays across his face. He has laugh lines, you realize, around his mouth and near his eyes, and it feels like your heart stutters in your chest.
“Whatever you want,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. “
You feel his cock hard against your thigh and twist your hips under his. He smiles against your lips. “‘S that what you want?” His voice is so deep it rumbles through you. “Tell me.”
Nodding, you tangle your fingers in his hair again. “Yes. Your cock, Din. Want it.” He teases across your bottom lip with his tongue, and then you’re kissing, soft and messy and like you never could have dreamed of before. He moves his body against yours until your legs are wrapped around his waist and his cock is pressed firmly against your pussy.
“You feel so kriffing good, cyar’ika,” he breathes against your mouth. “Missed you so fucking much.” He thrusts, slow, and the head of his cock moves between your folds.
You gasp when it brushes against your entrance. “Yes, Din,” you say, voice strained. “Please.”
He nods and pushes forwards with his hips. His tongue licks inside your mouth at the same time as his cock pushes inside of you and you lose yourself in it, in all the ways he’s touching you. You realize how different it is, without the helmet, but also how familiar it is as his cock fills you again.
“You take me so well,” Din says, pressing soft kisses along your jaw before nipping at your neck with his teeth. “You always have, fuck, you feel so good.” You can hear the tension in his voice as he slowly moves his hips, pulling out before slowly thrusting back in.
You grip his shoulders and move him gently until his face is above yours again, until you can catch his eye. “Din,” you breathe, and let your eyes drink in the look on his face. He wants you, as much as you want him, and you can actually see it. “I want you to fuck me.”
He raises an eyebrow, and you grin. “Is that not what I’m doing?”
You slip your hands down, running along his sides until you can grip his hips. “I’ve missed your cock so much, Din Djarin. Now put your back into it.”
He laughs, and he looks so happy that it takes your breath away. “Whatever you say, mesh’la.” And then he puts his back into it.
You’ve never forgotten what your “pretty good sex” with Din was like, but you realize as he fucks into you again that the memories have faded. They must have, at least somewhat, because the feelings that run through you as he finds a rhythm take your breath away. His cock is thick and he tilts his hips just right, hitting all of the places inside of you that send sparks and shivers running down your spine. You let your head fall back as you thrust your hips up to meet his. When you moan, you almost startle yourself with how loud it is.
“You feel so good,” he says, and he’s breathing just as hard as you are. “You sound so good, fuck.”
You move your hands again, wrapping one around his back and tangling the other in his hair, tugging him back into place so you can kiss him.
“Din,” you breathe, and he shivers. You nip at his lip and grin when he does the same in return.
He must feel it, the way it’s building inside of you, the cliff you’re hurtling towards together, because he slips one of his hands between you to tease at your clit. He pulls away, breaking your kiss, and you whine.
“I want to watch,” he says, and you open your eyes to find him drinking you in with his gaze. “I need to see it, like this. Are you going to come for me, cyar’ika?”
You nod, breathless, as he somehow picks up the pace with his hips. You open your mouth, but no sound comes out.
He smiles at you. “I can feel it,” he says, and his fingers begin circling your clit in time with his thrusts. “Come. Please, come for me.” You feel him drop to his elbow as his palm finds the back of your neck. He squeezes.
It takes you, then, on his next thrust, sends you hurtling forward as your hips meet his and his cock moves inside you just right. It lights you up from the inside and you gasp his name as he holds your gaze.
“Din,” you say again, and squeeze his cock inside of you. “Please.”
He squeezes your neck again as he thrusts forward once, twice, and on the third time, he comes.
You’ve never seen it happen before and you can’t tear your eyes away as it happens now, in front of you. His brow furrows and his mouth falls open and you watch as the wave of pleasure breaks over his face.
Din slumps over on top of you, and for a moment you both just breathe. You squeeze your legs around him and hug him to you where his face is buried in your neck. You take a slow, deep breath, before murmuring, “that was–”
“Pretty good?” he cuts you off, and you can hear the wry smile in his voice. You laugh, overwhelmed again at the happiness coursing through you.
“Pretty fucking good,” you agree, and you grin at the ceiling when he huffs a laugh against your shoulder.
“I missed you so much, cyar’ika,” he says, and presses soft kisses along your neck. “Fuck, I missed you.”
You run your fingers through his hair and across the broad expanse of his naked back, hoping to soothe him. “Me too, Din. So much.” You press a kiss to his temple. “But I found you.”
You feel him smile against your neck. “You did,” he agrees.
“Stay?” you ask, hoping he can but knowing he might need to go home to Grogu.
To your surprise, he nods. “He’s with Karga. I’m all yours.”
“All mine,” you muse, and run your fingers through his hair again. “I like the sound of that.”
…
Din wakes with the sun and feels her wrapped around him, right where she belongs. He smooths his hand along her side and tilts his head towards hers, lips brushing against her forehead.
When he slowly blinks his eyes open, he can’t help but smile at what he sees, as the memories flash through his mind, as that feeling, the one that seems to fill his chest whenever he sees her, spreads through his chest.
Her bracelet – the newest one made of braided white leather, woven with green and black thread – is lying on the bedside table, right next to his gloves.
It feels right.
Din turns and burrows into her, hiding his smile in her neck, happier than he’s been in years.
...
a/n: well. I couldn't leave them like that, you know? I hope you liked it! let me know. lol
Joel Miller x f!reader | 10.6k | 18+ | masterlist | fic masterlist | ao3
fic summary: Joel Miller gave up on the idea of a soulmate at least 20 years and one apocalypse ago. But it turns out the universe hasn't given up on him quite yet.
Part 3: Joel and Ellie made a deal to live, and it turns out there's a bit more left for Joel in this life than he expected.
a/n: annnd we're here! Part 3 of 3. This is the end. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this AU. I love these two. see tags/warnings below and check the fic masterlist for the full tags. Thank you again @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!! 🧡
tags/warnings for part 3: fluff, angst, more family fluff, hand holding, dancing, Joel Miller can dance I don't know what to tell you, ogling, kissing, teasing, flirting, so much flirting, pet names (darlin', beautiful, sweetheart, baby), public cuddling? is that tag, smut (kissing, groping, fondling, grinding, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex)
Part 3
Joel had never felt like this before.
He walked out of the shop with his hands tingling, mind spinning, tracing back over the ways she’d touched him. The way she’d reached out and held his hand and he hadn’t wanted to pull away, hadn’t wanted to run. He’d wanted to stay right there on that couch, with her, and let her hold his hand. He’d wanted to reach out and touch.
His soulmate.
Something about the way she’d looked at him…
He blinked. He found himself standing frozen in the middle of the road, halfway back to the office. No one seemed to have noticed him standing there, but he hurried forward.
When she touched him it was like sinking into something warm. Something familiar. He had no idea how much time had passed while he was at the shop — no idea how long her gaze had held his and pinned him in place on that couch. How had she done it?
Joel couldn’t believe he’d said all of that. He’d told her, somehow, told her everything, and now he was walking the street in a daze. Something about her, her smile, her warmth, put him so at ease that he hadn’t even hesitated.
His eyes caught on his reflection in a shop as he passed. He looked down and realized his hands were clenched into fists. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything but the pounding of his heart and the vice-like squeeze around his lungs.
He didn’t know how to do this.
…
That night on the walk home from dinner, Joel finally managed to get it out.
“Talked to Bolts, today,” he said, and ignored how he sounded like he was being strangled by his own feelings.
Ellie lit up. “Yeah?? And?”
He shrugged. “And nothin’. We’re havin’ lunch tomorrow. Gettin’ to know each other.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Nothing? Were you grumpy at her? I told you your face will get stuck like that.”
He rolled his eyes and swiped over her hair before she could dodge, messing it up. He smiled when she squawked in protest. “You makin’ fun of my natural sunny disposition?”
Ellie poked him in the side and he bent in half with a played-up oof. “Sunny? Sure, Joel. More like cloudy. And thundery.”
He laughed and shook his head. Ellie always knew how to make him laugh. “We just talked. I apologized for takin’ so long. ‘N I told her I told you, so it’s not a secret. Just don’t go botherin’ her about it.”
Ellie gasped dramatically. “Are you calling me a bother?”
Tommy had called her “a bother” a few days before and then had to explain what he meant when Ellie had responded that’s a verb, duh. Her vocabulary was expanding in the most unexpected ways.
“Isn’t bother your middle name?” Joel asked mildly, and raised his eyebrows when gasped again. “Ellie Bother Williams, ain’t it?”
Ellie started coming up with middle names for him in retaliation – Grumpy, or maybe Grandpa. No, Old Man! – and he smiled the whole way home.
…
Joel arrived at Nuts ‘n Bolts just before noon the next day, lunch carefully tucked into a canvas bag he’d borrowed from Tommy. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders before stepping inside.
“Hello?” he called over the tinkling of the bell over the door. As he glanced around he marveled again at how good Bolts was at her job.
“In the back!” she called. “Same spot as yesterday. Lock the door, would you?”
Joel smiled as he turned and locked the door behind him before heading back. “That ain’t gonna be a problem?” He took his time remembering the way through the maze of shelves but found it easier than he expected.
“Nah,” Bolts called, and he could hear her smile. “People know if the door is locked to come back later. If it’s an emergency they’ll knock.”
He turned the last corner and found Bolts tugging a low coffee table towards the loveseat. “Hi Joel,” she said brightly, and he smiled. “I usually keep this in the office but I figured we’d need it. Might work better here, anyway.”
He looked around. “There’s an office, too?”
She stood up straight and waved her hand to the right. “It’s over there. It’s pretty tiny, but it’s helpful to have a place to keep the inventory. That’s mostly what it’s for.” She gestured for him to come closer and he set the bag down on the table. “What’d you bring?”
“Sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but Priya over at the dinin’ hall told me you’d like ‘em.” Joel felt suddenly nervous at his admission.
Sure enough, Bolts looked up at him from where she’d just sat on the loveseat. “You told her it was for me?” She sounded hesitant, but she hadn’t lost her smile.
He nodded. “Yeah, um, might’ve said we were havin’ lunch.”
She grinned. “It’s ok, Joel, Priya’s not much of a gossip. You’re just lucky Artie wasn’t there. It woulda been around town before dinner.”
He laughed and moved forward to take a seat. “Didn’t even think about it, honestly. Just wanted to make sure you’d like it.” Now that he was thinking about it he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it then. He felt a sudden tightness in his chest and took a deep breath to ease it.
“Thank you,” Bolts said, and he glanced at her. She was smiling down at her hands. “Shall we?”
Joel nodded and started to get the food out. He divvied everything up and relaxed back into his seat as they dug in.
“Priya was right, this is my favorite,” Bolts told him when she opened the cloth wrapping around her sandwich. “Thank you.”
“‘Course,” he said. He felt awkward, suddenly, and cast around in his mind for something to say. The silence grew longer as he stared down at his sandwich. He took a bite to stall and glanced over at her again.
She was already looking at him. “What, am I suddenly scary?” She was smiling, but he thought he could see a little bit of worry around her eyes.
Joel shook his head, setting his sandwich down in his lap. “No. And yes. You’re not scary, but this whole thing…” He sighed. “I just… don’t know how to do this.”
“Me neither, Joel,” she said, and reached out to take his hand. As soon as she touched him he felt it again. “It’s the first time for both of us, right? Never had a soulmate before.”
He smiled and felt himself relax a bit more, and marveled at how she made it sound so easy. Her hand was warm in his and he squeezed it lightly. “Alright. Maybe we’ll figure it out together.”
“We will,” she agreed, and squeezed his hand before taking her hand back to eat. “So, you were a contractor before, right?”
“That’s right. What about you?” He settled in and watched as she smiled a bit wistfully before she answered.
“I worked at a hardware store through college,” she said, “but after I finished I was working as an engineer.”
His eyebrows flew upwards. “An engineer? Why’re you–”
“I know, I know,” she cut him off, laughing. “Why am I working in here? Well, not a lot of need for robotics, nowadays.” She shrugged. “I help out with stuff where I can. I helped with the dam, even though I never did much with hydraulics. But this?” She waved a hand, gesturing at her shop. “This I’m good at. Got years of experience, after all.”
He nodded. “You are good at it.” Bolts looked suddenly shy, and he smiled. “You are. I could tell even before we met, just from the way you do your work. Too smart for me by half.”
“Joel–”
“It’s true.” He nudged her foot with his boot. “Did you tell Ellie you worked in robotics?”
Bolts grinned. “Not yet. I’ve been saving it for a rainy day.”
He laughed, and a warm feeling settled inside of him at the knowledge that Ellie had someone else who knew her well enough to know she’d freak out. In a good way. “Can I be there, too?”
She eyed him. “We’ll see.” He could hear the tease in her tone.
Soulmates, huh? he mused to himself. He couldn’t deny it – she made him smile. Made him want to smile. He couldn’t get the smile off his face for the rest of the day.
…
Joel went back for lunch twice more that week, and then once over the weekend.
By the next week they were having lunch almost every day, and he found himself thinking of her all the time. He’d be doing some demo or working on some wiring and realize he’d completely stopped moving, lost in his thoughts, smiling at nothing at all.
Thinking only of her, of her smile, of the curve of her neck when she ducked her head, of the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, of the warmth of her hands in his. The ease he felt every time he reached out to touch, so foreign and unexpected. The way she’d clung to his hand when she told him more about her brother, and the way she’d made him feel able to talk about Tess at all. The softness of her gaze when he confessed how worried he was about doing right by Ellie. The light in her eyes when he told her he was happy Ellie had found in her another person she could trust. The way they both seemed to know exactly how to be there for each other already.
Sometimes when he looked at her, he could hear the echo of their music playing in his mind.
He didn’t know he could still feel like this. He was trying to savor it, to actually let himself enjoy it, and it wasn’t nearly as hard as he’d expected.
…
A few weeks after their first lunch, he convinced Bolts to come see a few of the houses he was working on, the ones she’d heard all about already.
“Have to admit, I’ve been curious,” she said as they stepped inside the house he and the team had just finished working on the day before. “I know these were pretty run down…” she trailed off, looking around, mouth dropped open. “Joel! This looks amazing!”
She moved to the middle of the living room and turned in place, taking in the changes they’d made – some new paint, of course, but under that repairs to the walls, a new beam in the roof, and repaired wooden flooring. They’d fixed up the windows and made the fireplace operational. She was grinning and she hadn’t even seen the kitchen yet.
“This is some good work, Joel,” she started to wander further into the house. “I mean, you know the guys, they had some experience. But with you and Tommy together?” She disappeared around the corner into the kitchen but poked her head back around the doorway and grinned at him. “Well, this is a whole new thing.”
He smiled. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “I’m impressed.” She disappeared around the corner again and he heard her make an “oooh” noise in the kitchen.
He felt a warmth filling his chest – of course he liked that she liked it, that she was impressed, but really he just liked the way she looked at him. During their lunches and now, she looked at him and seemed to really see him. It was heady. He could feel himself getting lost in it.
It had been that type of knowing look that had hooked him with Tess, back in the beginning. She’d always seen straight through him. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, he mused. Thinking of her still hurt, but he was pretty sure he could hear Tess yelling at him – you better not be thinking of wallowing, Miller.
Joel followed behind Bolts and turned into the kitchen to find her marveling at the back window. “Was this like this before?” she asked without turning. It was a big picture window, they’d been lucky to find the glass intact.
“It was, but the frame was rotted. And it was pretty dirty, ‘course.”
She turned to look at him, still grinning, and took a step forward. They were looking at each other, and so they were both surprised when she stumbled over a stray bit of flooring.
“Oh–” she started, and put her hands out in front of her. Without even thinking about it, Joel stepped forward.
He caught her, arms wrapped around her middle, firmly holding her up. She was leaning forwards, hands on his shoulders where they’d landed as she fell, toes still on the floor but not holding all of her weight.
Her face was inches from his, and for a moment they just stared at each other. He slowly became aware of all the ways she was pressed against him and felt his face start to get hot.
“Thank you,” she breathed, and his gaze traveled across her face, tracing the lines of her eyebrows and cheeks and jaw, and finally coming to rest on her lips. Every thought, every word, flew from his mind.
Without consciously deciding to do it, Joel leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.
She kissed him back instantly, and the moment their lips touched, he heard it again.
He lost himself in it, in the music, in all the new sensations – the feeling of her body against his, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her in his arms. When she broke away with a gasp, he realized they were both breathing hard. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers and took a deep breath.
“Darlin’,” he murmured, and smiled when she tightened her arms around his neck. She liked it when he called her that, and just knowing that she liked it lit up something inside of him that had gone out when he lost Tess. He thought it had gone out forever, but now it raced through his veins, setting him on fire from the inside out. “Never thought I’d feel like this again.”
At some point in the last few minutes she’d gotten her feet underneath her and she was steady in his arms. She hummed and he felt it in his chest. “Me neither, Joel.”
He nudged his nose against hers and smiled. “Sorry I’m so slow,” he said, already regretting the fact that he knew he shouldn’t go further than this. Not right then. Even though he wanted to. Even though he could feel her against him and wanted nothing more than to take her hips in his hands and squeeze, tug her forwards and–
“It’s ok,” she said, interrupting his runaway thoughts, and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He felt it like a lightning bolt to the chest. “I get it.”
Joel wanted more, though. And he thought he might be ready for it. “Can I take you out?”
Bolts pulled back to look at him, but neither of them released their hold on each other. From just a few inches away, she smirked at him. “Sure,” she said, and he could hear that she was teasing him. He smiled. “To one of our commune’s many fine dining options?”
He laughed. “I was thinkin’ maybe to the Bison. Get a drink, maybe dance a little?”
A wide smile broke across her face. “Joel Miller, do you dance?”
The smirk that took over his face felt both familiar and not, like he was stretching a muscle he hadn’t used in decades. But it also felt right, it felt easy to flirt with her, to tease her back. His soulmate. “Well, darlin’, why don’t you let me take you out and see for yourself?”
…
Joel was taking you dancing.
Joel Miller was going to take you dancing.
You’d been floating on air ever since he asked, ever since he kissed you. And that kiss…
It had been soft and warm and hot and you hadn’t wanted to pull away, hadn’t wanted to do anything other than let him press you against the wall and do it again. And again.
You’d had to stop, but you were pretty sure there was going to be more kissing in your future. You thought of little else as the days passed until Friday night. You kept finding yourself humming a familiar tune, lost in the music, mind across town rather than in your work. You had no idea how you’d wait until Friday for drinks at the Bison and dancing.
By the time Friday rolled around, you’d had to re-sort a new delivery of screws three times because of your own inability to think of anything other than Joel Miller’s lips. And his hands. And the way his shoulders had felt under your hands, the way his hair had curled around your fingers. The way his face softened when he smiled at you, and the way he’d smirked at you when he’d teased you about dancing.
You looked down at the pile of screws in the box in front of you and sighed. You were going to have to do this later, you were absolutely useless.
At that exact moment, Maria popped her head around the side of a shelf, eyebrow raised.
“Shit!” you said, startled. “I didn’t hear you come in!” You took a slow, deep breath to calm your racing heart.
“I noticed,” she said, tone wry. “I called your name and you didn’t respond.”
You sighed. “Sorry, I’m distracted.” You stretched your neck from side to side, feeling some tension release from your shoulders. You must have been hunched over the box for a while.
She laughed. “I bet! Why are you still here? You can close up shop and go home, get ready.”
You shook your head. “I’ve still got like four hours, Maria, if I go home I’ll be even more useless than I am here.”
Maria clicked her tongue at you. “Well, then, you’re coming home with me. Come on.” She took the box of screws away from you and placed it to the side of your workbench. “I’ll feed you and then distract you while you get ready.”
“I knew you were my best friend for a reason,” you said, and she laughed again.
“Don’t worry, you’ll pay me back with babysitting.”
You looped your arm through hers as you walked towards the front. “You don’t have to barter with me for that, you know I’ll do it for free.”
Dinner with Maria was exactly the distraction you needed, and after she helped you pick your outfit, you were feeling much better. Still nervous, as you watched the clock and waited for Joel to arrive, but better.
When Joel knocked on the door, your heart rate picked right back up again.
You opened it to find him looking extremely handsome on the other side, in a dark green, button-up shirt that fit him like a glove, and jeans that you were certain were doing nice things for his ass, even though you couldn’t see it yet. His hair was tousled and styled and you wanted to dig your fingers into it.
He was looking at you, eyes wide. “You’re beautiful,” he said, voice low and sincere.
You smiled. “You’re looking pretty handsome, there, yourself.”
Joel reached forward and tangled his fingers with yours. “You ready?”
You nodded and let him tug you out the door. As you walked to the Bison, he told you Ellie was having movie night with Tommy and Maria.
“I heard,” you said, smiling. “I had dinner with Maria, she told me Ellie and Tommy have been talking about it all week.”
Joel rolled his eyes and you laughed. “They love those space movies.”
You gasped, playfully. “You don’t? Joel, they’re classics!”
He sighed, and you felt something fizzing inside of you, light and airy. You loved teasing him like that, especially because he would tease you right back every time. Flirting with Joel was so easy and you marveled a little at how quickly you’d become used to it.
He squeezed your hand. “Not you, too?” He shook his head.
You teased him more as you walked, and before you knew it he was holding open the door of the Tipsy Bison for you. As you stepped inside you noted the Friday night crowd with a few couples already dancing in the middle of the floor.
“Let’s find a table,” Joel said, leaning in so he could speak lowly in your ear. You shivered as his hand came to rest against your lower back. “And then I’ll grab us some drinks.”
You settled in at the table you found and let yourself watch him as he moved across the room. Your eyes caught on his shoulders and slipped down the curve of his back to – I knew it – the nice outline of his ass in those jeans.
You smiled to yourself. Right at that moment, Joel turned to glance at you and caught you looking. He smirked.
“What,” you mouthed, trying to look innocent. He grinned, and you smiled back. He began moving back across the room towards you, drinks in hand, and you didn’t hide the way you checked him out as he got closer.
“See somethin’ you like, darlin’?” he teased as he sat down across from you at your small table. His knee nudged yours and you took the chance to hook one of your ankles around his.
“Maybe,” you said, and took a sip of your drink. “Maybe I’m taking a page out of your book with those jeans.”
He reached across the table, suddenly looking a bit shy, and tangled your fingers together. “Yeah?”
You leaned forward, eyes darting across his face. He has to know, you thought, and decided to tell him just in case. “Joel, you are very handsome,” you said, tone sincere. “Hot, even. So freaking hot.”
Joel’s eyebrows flew up, and you wanted to lean forwards and kiss his cheek that had just turned a bit pink. “Me?”
“You,” you said, nodding. “I might’ve had to completely start over with some inventory I was doing earlier because I was thinking about it.”
Joel looked at you and then suddenly stood up. You blinked, wondering if you’d said something wrong, but before you could even fully form the thought he sat down next to you on your side of the booth.
He nudged you over with his hip and curled his arm behind you on the seat. He leaned in, and you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear when he murmured, “thinkin’ about what, darlin’?”
You shivered, again, and this time you knew he noticed. “You,” you said, your eyes meeting his. He leaned back, but not far, and you were so close you could feel his breath tickling your jaw. “Your smile. The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh.” He laughed, a bit taken aback. “Just like that,” you said, smiling. “Your hands.” You looked down and watched as his free hand slid onto your knee. “Your arms. Your shoulders.”
“You said that before,” he said, looking down to either side at his own body. “My shoulders?”
You nodded. “You are very broad, Joel. It really does it for me.”
He laughed. “Well, darlin’, everythin’ about you does it for me. Everythin’,” he repeated when you opened your mouth. You closed it again and he nodded. “God, you’re so smart, so good at what you do, you know that? And then on top of that you’re funny?” He leaned in and hummed, pressing his lips to your jaw in soft kisses. “And you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. Takes my breath away.”
“Joel,” you breathed, and your breath hitched when he kissed the corner of your mouth. You turned to kiss him fully but he leaned back.
“Dance with me, darlin’?” He held out a hand for you, expression open, eyes full of hope. You took his hand.
“Where’d you get these moves, Joel Miller?” you teased as he pulled you to standing.
He shrugged, eyes bright. “Come over here and find out.”
He led you onto the dance floor, and you realized a more upbeat song was playing. He maneuvered you into a position you’d seen other people take before – other people who knew what they were doing.
“Uh, Joel,” you said, suddenly realizing you’d never brought up your less than extensive experience with dancing. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He just smiled and tucked you more securely in his arms. “Don’t worry, darlin’, we’ll start slow. I’ve got you.”
And he did. Joel showed you the steps, slowly at first, and then speeding up a bit when you caught on. He led you carefully around your little corner of the dance floor. You could tell, just from his movements, that he was very good at this.
Once it felt like your feet didn’t need your full attention, you asked, “where’d you learn to dance like this?”
Joel turned you and you looked down at your feet again. “Been dancin’ like this since we were kids,” he said. “Me ‘n Tommy. Learned from our family. Our mom’s side was huge, we had so many cousins. Every family gatherin’ had dancin’. A bit of this, a bit of that. Everybody was two-steppin’, we’d dance to anythin’. And my aunts loved bachata. Had a cousin that used to teach salsa lessons.”
“Wow,” you said, impressed. “Can you do those, too?”
He laughed. “Haven’t in years, but I probably still know the steps somewhere up here.” He tilted his head. “This is goin’ well enough and I haven’t two-stepped in more than 20 years.”
“Well, I’m impressed,” you said, and you really were. He was leading you seemingly effortlessly, after all, and you’d been pretty sure you were a terrible dancer just 10 minutes ago.
He taught you a few more moves, and before you knew it you were twirling and breathless as he showed you what he could do. Your head was spinning from the feeling of his hands guiding you, his body pressing against yours, his voice murmuring instructions and praise in your ear. That’s it, darlin’, just like that. You were dizzy from it, from Joel.
After a few songs you stepped back, ready for a break. “Let’s sit,” you said, and Joel followed easily behind you back towards your table. He slid in next to you in the booth without hesitating.
“Joel, that was amazing,” you said, after taking a long sip of your drink. “We’re going to do that again, right?”
He laughed, looking very pleased. “Whenever you want, darlin’. Might be sore tomorrow, but it'll be worth it.”
You turned in your seat to look at him and ignored it when your knee came to rest atop his thigh. He dropped his free hand onto your leg again. It was big and warm and the tips of his fingers were touching your inner thigh.
“Joel,” you said, leaning forward. Your eyes dropped to his lips. “I like dancing with you.”
“I like dancin’ with you, too, darlin’,” he said, leaning forward. “Like it quite a bit.”
You took a breath, and then took a leap. “Liked kissing you, too,” you said, meeting his eyes.
“Did you?” he murmured, and his eyes were dark as he leaned even closer.
“I did,” you said, and he hummed.
“Didn’t want to stop kissin’ you,” he said, nudging his nose against yours.
“Me neither,” you breathed. “Joel?”
“Yeah, darlin?” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, and you sighed.
“Wanna get out of here?”
Joel leaned back slowly, eyes dancing over your face. “You mean–”
“Come home with me?” You could hear the hope in your voice. Please say yes.
“Darlin’--”
You could hear the hesitation in his voice, and your stomach dropped. You cut him off. “No, I mean, it’s ok, I know you said slow, Joel, I’m sorry–”
“Hey,” he said, voice soft. He cupped your face in his palm and titled it gently upwards until you met his eyes. “Hey, I was goin’ to say – yes. I’d love to. I just can’t stay over, I promised Ellie I’d be home. Didn’t want you to think that meant I didn’t wish I could.”
You let out a breath, relieved. “Oh, no I totally understand.” You laughed, a bit embarrassed. “I thought you were going to say–”
“No, darlin’,” he interrupted, leaning forward to kiss you once, gently. When he leaned back he ran his thumb over your cheekbone. “You got no idea how much I want to go home with you.”
You grinned. “Well, then. Let’s get out of here.”
…
You flirted all the way home.
It felt like a first crush, dizzy and disorienting in the best way. He teased you and you laughed, he slipped his arm around your waist and you pressed a quick kiss to his scruffy jaw.
By the time you stepped onto your front porch your entire body was buzzing like a live wire.
Joel crowded behind you as you unlocked the door and you sighed when you felt his lips trail down the side of your neck.
“Joel—“ you sighed. Your breath hitched when he kissed you, right behind your ear.
“Let’s get inside, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and gravely. You shivered as you opened the door.
He tucked his arms around you and followed right behind you as you stepped inside. Before you could even blink you found yourself with your back to your closed front door, Joel smirking at you with his left forearm resting on the door over your head. His right hand slid down to your ass. He squeezed.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he said. He leaned in and kissed you softly.
“Hi,” you murmured, chasing after him when he pulled away. He looked at you, dark eyes dancing over your face. Warmth was coiling inside of you just from the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.
You felt like a starry-eyed teenager, like someone feeling everything for the first time, but also like everything was somehow familiar. You’d never kissed him before, and you’d kissed him a hundred times. The touch of his fingers sliding under your shirt was new, but you knew them. It felt like something beloved that was coming back to you, only just forgotten. The way his body fit with yours had you teetering over the edge of something huge and new, but it wasn’t scary.
You knew what you’d find at the bottom of that drop. It had been waiting for you all along, just out of reach. Like you’d just been waiting for the right moment to fall.
Joel’s eyes fell to your lips again and you smiled. “Can I touch you, darlin’?” He asked, and you nodded.
“Please,” you said, and he smirked.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he teased, pulling you from the door and walking backwards towards your couch. “C’mere, beautiful.” Joel dropped down onto the couch. He pulled you towards him as if he wanted you to sit next to him, but you straddled his lap instead.
“Well hello there,” he said warmly, hands drawn like magnets to your hips. He squeezed.
You grinned. “Hi,” you said, and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“You know, darlin’, I’ve been thinkin’ about this,” he said, tugging you closer and leaning in to kiss your neck.
You hummed. “This?”
Joel traced his lips along the line of your neck and teased with his teeth behind your ear. You wondered if he was leaving a mark. “Pullin’ you into my lap on that loveseat. Touchin’ you. Gonna be hard not to do this in the shop, now that I know how nice it feels. Never gonna get any work done.”
You dug your fingers into his soft hair and ground forward with your hips. His breath hitched and you smiled. “Well, the door of the shop does lock,” you said, voice teasing.
He laughed. “That it does.” Before you could say anything else, he leaned forward and kissed you.
You lost yourself in it instantly. His grip on your hips tightened as his mouth moved against yours. When his tongue teased against your lips, you shivered.
Joel tugged your hips forward and you felt the growing evidence of his interest under you. He was big. He shifted one hand to your back, sliding it upwards until he could cup the back of your neck.
You realized your hips were moving, rocking in a rhythm you’d started without consciously deciding to. Joel broke off and pressed soft, warm kisses down your neck until he reached your collar. “You feel so good, sweetheart,” he said, and you almost moaned at the new endearment. The hand on your hip slid under your shirt and up your side. “Shit.”
“I love the way your hands feel, Joel,” you said, almost burning under his touch.
“Yeah?” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice from where his face was buried in your neck.
“Mm-hmm,” you said, nodding.
“Well, I like touchin’ you with ‘em,” he said, voice a low murmur. “Can I touch you more?”
You used your grip on his hair to turn his head just right so that you could kiss him. “Yes, please.”
Before the word was fully out of your mouth, he cupped your breast in one hand and unbuttoned your pants with the other. “Lemme make you feel good, darlin’.” Joel slid his hand inside your pants and cupped you. It felt like your entire body flashed hot, suddenly alive.
“Joel–” you said, but cut yourself off on a sharp inhale when he rubbed his thumb over your nipple.
He hummed. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he said, nibbling a mark just above your collarbone. “Let me hear it.” You moaned when his fingers nudged your underwear to the side and teased along your slit. “‘S that good?” he murmured.
You nodded. Joel twisted his fingers and almost instantly found your clit. You gasped.
“You feel so good, you know that?” he said. His flingers slid down to tease around your entrance while his thumb took over working you up. “Show me how you like it, darlin’.”
You did – you moved against his hand until you had it just right, and you sucked in a sharp breath when he curled his fingers upwards. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might beat right out of your chest.
“Just like that, huh?” He said, voice low and deep as he watched you. “Let me see it, yeah?”
He moved his hand faster and you tilted forward to rest your forehead against his. “Joel—“ you breathed, and he smiled. Your world narrowed to the places he was touching you and the warmth of his gaze, everything else faded away as he drove you to the edge.
“Yeah, darlin’. Come for me, I wanna see it. Bet you look so beautiful when you do. Come on,” he urged, lips brushing against yours. With every word you felt it stoking higher inside of you, pushing you upwards towards a fall you knew you’d never come back from. It was lighting up your spine and tingles all over your body and you couldn’t get enough.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured. He pressed down with his thumb in a tight circle and quirked his fingers just right, and you did. It hit you like a wave that washed over you from head to toe and swept you out to sea. You lost time, adrift on the perfect sensations he wrought from you, until you came back to yourself gasping.
Joel was still talking. “I knew it,” he said between hot kisses down your neck. “Knew you’d be fuckin’ breathtakin’.”
You grabbed both sides of his face between your palms and pulled him into a kiss. He hummed into your mouth and you couldn’t help but thrust your hips downward against his hand. The sudden overstimulation made you whine.
Without another thought, you slid both palms down his chest and to his jeans, unbuttoning them. “I need to touch you,” you said, voice rough.
To your delight, Joel shivered in response. “By all means, darlin’,” he said, smiling. “Ain’t nothin’ I want more.” As you slid his zipper down he pulled you into a kiss. “Been thinkin’ about it,” he murmured against your lips.
“Me too,” you said, and gripped his cock in your fist.
Joel made a very gratifying noise.
“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” you teased, twisting your palm around the head. His eyes opened and he looked dazed. “How do you like it?”
He reached down and squeezed your hand just a bit tighter. “That’s perfect, darlin’, I—“ he sucked in a sharp breath when you reached down with your free hand to cup his balls. “Shit, that’s good. Fuck me.”
“Not right now but you bet your ass I’m getting this inside me sooner rather than later.” You grinned when he laughed, just once, looking a bit taken aback and very turned on. You like to laugh during sex, so it was probably good he learned that now.
You sped up a bit and watched as he completely lost himself in it. His cock hardened deliciously in your hands and you leaned in to kiss him, imagining all the things you could do together.
He groaned when your tongue teased his.
“C’mon, baby,” you said softly, kissing him again. “Get me all messy.”
Joel thrust his hips upwards at your words and, with your name on his lips, he came.
His cock pulsed in your hands and you watched the bliss wash over his face with a smile.
“Fuck,” he said again, collapsing back against the couch with his head thrown back. “That’s already so good, anything more might kill us.”
You laughed. “Speak for yourself, old man.”
He tilted his head back up and smiled at you. “You are not that much younger than me, darlin’. Did I not tire you out?” He pulled you in for a kiss. “I’ll have to go for another next time, then.” He squeezed your ass and you realized at some point in the last few minutes he’d parked his hands there. “Maybe get my mouth on you.” You squirmed in his lap and he winked. “Ah, you like the sound of that?”
You laughed and kissed him again.
“So,” he said, pulling back. “Baby, huh?”
You nodded. “Figured you've taken a bunch, better claim one fast.” He snorted and you grinned. “Like it?”
He cupped your face in one big hand and smiled softly. “I do.”
You leaned into his hand, just looking at him, and then moved forward and murmured, “good,” just before you kissed him.
You made out softly for a few minutes, no urgency at all, soaking in the feeling of doing nothing but being there together.
Finally you pulled away and tucked yourself into his shoulder with a happy sigh. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head, and you were pretty sure you hadn’t felt this warm and happy in years. You almost dozed off, but Joel squeezed your hip gently, rousing you.
“Hey,” he murmured, and you picked your head up off his shoulder to look at him. His face was open. “I’m real glad I found you here.”
You smiled and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head towards you, lips brushing against yours as you said, voice soft, “me too, Joel.”
…
After that night, you saw Joel and Ellie almost every day.
You kept up your lunches, most days, and then he invited you to have dinner with them– with him and Tommy and Maria and Ellie. You’d been nervous at first, but it turned out there was no need – you and Ellie were friends, you spent time together almost every afternoon when she came to work in the shop, and somehow having dinner together with all of them felt like settling into a place you already belonged. Like so many things with Joel, it was so new and so familiar, all at once – it just felt right. And that was wonderful and terrifying at the same time.
Joel seemed to feel the same, as he’d told you that first day you had lunch together. It was scary, but it was also good, so good. And like you’d said to him, you were figuring it out together.
A few weeks after your date, after a couple more dates and many more lunches and dinners and easy afternoon walks and brief moments behind the locked doors of your shop, you were starting to trust in this new thing you’d found.
You were humming while you worked, reorganizing some of the shelves to make room for some new inventory, when the bell tinkled.
“In the back!” you called, and you smiled when you heard Ellie’s voice call out a greeting. A few seconds later her head appeared around the shelf to your right. You turned to smile at her but faltered when you saw the look on her face.
“Ellie? Are you ok?”
She frowned a bit and nodded. “Yeah, um. Can I talk to you about something?”
You straightened up and moved away from your workbench, nodding towards the back. “Come sit.”
She followed you, and when you turned back to look at her you started to worry. “Ellie, are you–”
She plopped down on the seat next to you and sighed. “No, it’s ok. I mean, ugh.” She curled into herself a bit and crossed her arms. “I just… wanted to ask you something.”
“You can ask me anything,” you said immediately, voice firm.
She nodded, which made you feel a bit better. “I know.” she was quiet for a moment, and then continued, “ok, so, I was talking to Joel yesterday. And he said, um. Well I know you’re dating or whatever, and I’m happy about that. I promise. But he said, um, he said you…” she trailed off and you resisted the urge to say anything. You just nodded and gave her some space. She sighed. “I know that people who are together, I mean, obviously they live in the same house. That’s just normal. I get it. But I’m not…” she winced. “I’m not ready— I don’t—“
“Hey.” You couldn’t help but say something. “And that’s ok, Ellie, I–”
“No, listen,” she said, and she sounded so worried, you felt like something was squeezing your heart. “I don’t… I don’t want to take things away from Joel. I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get to have things, things he should have. He’s my…” she trailed off and bit her lip. “I don’t–”
“Ellie,” you said, gently. “Listen. You’re not taking anything away from Joel. You are his world, you know that? You’re his kid. You come first for both of us. And I think I get what you’re saying. But it doesn’t feel like we’re missing anything.” You smiled when she looked up at you. “I promise, it doesn’t.”
She frowned. “You don’t want to live with Joel?”
“Someday, sure,” you said, and nodded. “But we haven’t known each other that long. As much as we like each other, it’s still all pretty new. I’ve lived alone a long time, you know? Pretty set in my ways. And we have time.” You smiled. “Besides, dating is fun. I promise we’re happy just the way we are.”
She turned towards you and leaned her head against the back of the couch. She looked so young, curled up in front of you, and you felt suddenly proud and honored that she was comfortable coming to you with this.
“Ok,” she said, “I believe you. And I’m not, like, against the idea, it’s just–”
“You’re not ready,” you said, and she nodded. “And that’s ok. There’s no deadline here, you know? We’re not on a schedule, and it’s ok if you’re never ready.”
She sighed. “I don’t think it’ll be never.” Ellie finally smiled, and you felt it warm you from the inside. “Just.. not now.”
“Ellie, it could be never, and I’d still be here. For you and for Joel. I need you to know that. I don’t have to live with him to love him. Or you.” You took a deep breath, hoping that wasn’t too much. You hadn’t exactly said it to Joel yet, but you felt like she needed to hear it.
She swallowed, looking a bit choked up, which made two of you, because you were feeling a bit teary yourself. “For me?” she asked, clearly a bit overwhelmed.
“For you, Ellie. Of course.” You reached out and squeezed her forearm gently. She twisted her arm so that she could grab your forearm from underneath and squeeze back. “Even without Joel, we’re friends, too. Right?”
She nodded. “Right.”
You smiled. “Right. I’m here for you, too. Besides, you’re the coolest kid I know, you have to keep me in the know about what the cool kids are doing these days.”
She laughed and leaned back, and you grinned, letting go of her arm. “Joel said you’d be cool with it, but I had to make sure. I just don’t– I don’t like feeling like he has to give stuff up for me. Because of me.”
You hummed. “I get that. But I don’t think he sees it that way, you know?” She shrugged and you shrugged back. It made her smile, which was the goal. “It’s not about him not getting to have things, it’s about giving you everything he wants you to have. And he wants you to have a lot, you know? Because he loves you. You’re family.”
Ellie blinked her eyes a few times, looking a bit lost. “He, um. A while ago, when we weren’t… he said he wasn’t my dad. But last night, he said, um.” She turned red and looked down.
“Did he say he was?” You brought your own knee up on the couch, half-mirroring her.
She nodded. “Kinda. Said we’re family, and we don’t have to use the words for it to be true, not if I don’t want to. That he feels, knows that it’s true, either way.” She peeked up at you, still red, as if looking for confirmation.
“Well, he’s right, and he knows what it’s like to be a dad. He would know,” you said, smiling. “And Ellie, oh my God, he is such a dad. But you don’t ever have to use the words for it to be true, for the two of you to know it and trust it.”
She seemed to turn that over for a minute, looking thoughtful. “I’ve never had a family,” she said in a small voice, and your heart broke.
You poked her foot with yours. “You do now, though.”
Ellie finally looked up at you again and smiled. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
…
One year later
You walked quickly towards the other end of town, already racing against the clock but determined to eat lunch with Joel. You had a few more orders to get prepped before you headed over to the town meeting scheduled for just before dinner, and it was going to be tight.
(The meeting promised to be a boring one, with nothing scandalous or controversial on the agenda, but they were always more fun with Ellie and Joel on either side of you, muttering to each other under their breath and making you laugh until Maria glared at all three of you from her spot up at the front.
That’s what she got for wanting to be in charge.)
You spotted the house you knew Joel was working in and passed the rest of his team coming out as you stepped inside.
“He’s upstairs in the back bedroom,” Stan told you, grinning at you as you passed. “Glad you’re here, he’s been grumpy today.”
You laughed. “He’s always grumpy on town meeting days.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Stan called, laughing too.
The stairs had been finished since the last time you were there, and you smiled as you climbed and ran your free hand up the now-polished railing. You looked left and right at the top of the stairs, not sure where to go next. “Joel?” you called.
“Back here, darlin’,” he called back from the left, and you turned to look for him. You found him all the way at the end in the last bedroom, moving a bed frame into place. “Hey there, beautiful,” he said, looking up when you walked in. “Just about done.”
He lined up the frame with the wall and stepped back, hands on his hips, looking over the room. “It’ll be nice to be done with this one, and I know the Martinez-Carlson clan is about to burst out of that two bedroom over by the school.”
“It looks great,” you said, setting down the bag with your lunches and stepping up beside him. He snaked his arm around your waist easily and you leaned in to his side. “As always.” You looked up at him and smiled. “And you know I like watching you lift heavy things.”
Joel laughed, cheeks a bit pink. You loved that teasing him still got him to blush like that. “Should I go do it again?”
You hummed. “Nah,” you said, turning into his arms. “I like you right where you are.”
“‘S that right,” he murmured, and then kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into it.
Joel broke away and smirked at you. “Thought we were havin’ lunch,” he said, and laughed when you tugged on his hair lightly.
“Well, I mean, if you’d rather eat than–” you squeaked as Joel turned you suddenly and pressed you against the wall beside the empty bed frame.
“Now, I don’t think I said anything of the sort, did I?” He teased before kissing you again. You sank into it, arms around his neck. The shape of him was warm and familiar against you and you felt the evidence of his interest against your hip.
He nudged one of his legs between yours and you tugged on his hair again. He pulled back but not far, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw and down your neck.
“Forget lunch,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I got a better idea.” And he sank down to his knees.
You shivered. “Joel–”
He shook his head as he undid the button of your jeans, yanking them down unceremoniously. “Don’t you say a word about my knees. C’mere,” he said, helping you step out of your pants and underwear. He pushed you back into the wall with his left hand and lifted your left leg over his shoulder. “Now, let me take care of you, darlin’. Been thinkin’ about it all day.”
Your head fell back against the wall and you gasped as he dove right in. He held your folds apart with his thumbs and licked from your entrance to your clit, soft and dizzying. He took you apart expertly with his tongue, circling the tip around your clit before pressing the flat of it down. By the time his fingers teased at your entrance you realized you were breathing hard with your hands tangled in his hair, holding his head in place.
“Fuck, baby,” you said, head spinning. “I’m– how–”
He thrust his fingers inside of you, setting a pace that you could barely wrap your mind around, while also keeping up a steady rhythm on your clit with his tongue. He was pressing all of your buttons at once and somehow you were already about to fly over the edge.
You tugged on his hair, but he didn’t let up, and you knew what he wanted. He wanted you to come so he could fuck you and make you come again on his cock.
Just the thought of it sent you flying.
“Joel–” you cried, and you would have fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up so firmly against the wall. Your orgasm crashed into you and you surrendered to it, unable to do anything but breathe as it sent lightning down your veins and shivers up your spine.
You tugged on his hair again, breathing hard, and he finally pulled back. You flopped your head forward to look at him and found him grinning up at you, way too fucking pleased with himself, face glistening.
“You fucker,” you said, smiling at him. “I’ve never come that fast in my life.”
Joel laughed and leaned forward to kiss your hip. “Thought we were in a rush,” he said, and nipped at your hip.
You squirmed. “C’mere, then, before your guys get back.”
He surged upwards and captured your mouth in a kiss while your hands dropped to undo his belt. “You and this damned belt buckle,” you complained, finally tugging his belt free.
“You can’t fool me,” he said, leaning down to slip the neck of your shirt to the side so he could kiss your shoulder. “I know you like the way it looks.”
“Shut up and help me undo your pants,” you said, and he laughed. You reached inside and grasped his cock.
“Mmm,” he groaned, thrusting his hips forward. “I wanted you so bad this mornin’, darlin’. Can’t believe we slept late.”
You sighed as he grasped your hips and turned you around. “I know,” you agreed, flattening your palms against the wall and tilting your hips back. “You felt so good in bed, I didn’t want to get up.”
He pressed up behind you and you both sighed when his cock slipped between your thighs, nudging at your clit. “Right where I left off,” he murmured, and you smiled. You’d woken up to him wrapped around you in bed that morning, with his cock pressed against your back and his face buried in your neck. He’d just tugged your underwear down, ready to slip inside when Tommy had burst in through the front door and called for you both to come downstairs.
You were already plotting how you were going to get him back for that.
Your thoughts were brought back to the present when Joel notched his cock at your entrance. As he slipped inside, pressing forward, your mouth fell open. You pushed your hips back, reveling in the stretch of his cock.
“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel groaned, squeezing your hips and holding you in place as his hips came flush with yours. “You always feel so fuckin’ good.”
Joel braced his right hand against the wall, just above yours, and held your hip firmly in his left. “You ready?” he asked, and you nodded. He pulled almost all the way out and then filled you again in one quick thrust.
You gasped.
“Darlin’--” he said, sounding a bit worried, but you shook your head.
“Fuck me, Joel, just like that,” you demanded, and he laughed.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he said, and started up a pace that had you seeing stars.
You pressed your palms into the wall and pushed your hips back to meet his thrusts. From the very first time you’d loved how he felt inside of you, and you never got over it.
He knew just how you liked it, fast and deep, hitting just right inside of you. You were breathless and tingling all over. Joel leaned forward and murmured in your ear, “you feel so good on my cock, darlin’. You know that? Can’t ever get enough of it.” He slipped his hand from your hip to wrap around you, sliding down to tease at your clit. “You gonna come for me again, beautiful?”
“Yes, Joel,” you said, breathing hard as he thrust forward again and circled his fingers around your clit. “Please–”
“Faster?” he asked, and you nodded. His hips sped up and so did his fingers and you lost yourself in it. Every thrust sent you spiraling higher, gasping for breath. “C’mon, darlin’,” he said, nipping at your neck behind your ear. “Let me feel you come on my cock.”
You squeezed him and his hips stuttered. You were so close.
“That’s it, darlin’,” he said, burying his face in your shoulder. “Come.”
You whined and pushed your hips back as you teetered over the edge for the second time in just a few minutes. You felt it rush through your body like a wildfire and squeezed his cock until he gasped, thrusting inside you as he came.
For a moment you both just breathed, hard, and then Joel slumped forward onto you. You laughed as you staggered under his weight, though he wasn’t even really putting all of it on you. “Tired?” you asked, teasing.
He nodded into your shoulder. “Need a nap,” he groaned, and then slowly stood and pulled out. Your breath hitched as his cock slipped out of you. “Mm,” he hummed. “Messy down here.” You felt his fingers sliding between your folds and shivered.
“That’s enough of that,” you said, squirming, and he snorted as he pulled his fingers away gently.
“You don’t want another?” he asked, turning you in his arms and gathering you to him. When you met his gaze it was warm, his happiness easy to see.
You shook your head. “Pretty sure you’d knock me out with a third,” you laughed. “And I’ve got work to do.” You leaned forward to kiss him and he smiled against your lips.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something, you heard the door open downstairs.
“Shit,” he said, and you both reached for your clothes. You dressed in record time, laughing, while Joel pretended to frown at you. “They’re gonna notice I haven’t eaten lunch yet.”
You laughed again. “Sounds like a you problem.”
He smiled, finally, and kissed you again. He tugged you into his arms one more time. “See you at home later, before the meeting?” he asked, tucking his face into your neck.
“Yeah, baby,” you replied, running your hands through his hair and trying to tidy it. He leaned back to look at you and you kissed him again, quick. “See you there.”
…
“Thank god that’s over,” Joel said as he stepped outside onto the road, groaning as he stretched. “Jesus, they can really talk.”
You laughed. “Joel, you didn’t even listen to a single thing anyone said after they finished talking about patrol training.”
He smirked at you. “You tellin’ me they said anything remotely interestin’ after that?”
Before you could respond Tommy stepped outside. He spotted you and immediately moved over to where you were standing nearby. He groaned. “Well thank god that’s over. You think they ever get tired of talkin’?”
You burst out laughing. You flung your hand out and tangled it in Joel’s flannel shirt to hold you up.
“What’s this?” Tommy asked, and Joel scoffed.
“Don’t scoff, Joel Miller,” you said between laughs. “Not my fault the Miller genes run strong.” Joel sighed. You straightened and took a deep breath.
“Ohh-kay,” Tommy said, drawing out the first syllable. “Whatever. Y’all comin’ over for a drink?”
You shook your head. “We got plans.” You waggled your eyebrows at him, fighting a grin.
Tommy made a disgusted face, just like you knew he would. Joel sighed again, but you could tell he was amused. “You know I got a delicate constitution. Why’re you doin’ this to me?” You laughed again. “Joel, why is she doin’ this to me?”
Joel shrugged. “You probably did somethin’ to deserve it.”
Tommy gasped, hand over his heart in shock. “My own brother? Betraying me?”
Before either of you could respond, Ellie popped up out of nowhere, grinning. “What’d Joel do now?”
You and Tommy both startled, but Tommy jumped about a foot in the air. Joel didn’t react at all, just smirked, and you figured he’d seen her coming.
“Jesus, Ellie,” Tommy said, taking a deep breath. “I’m gonna put a bell on you.”
Ellie raised a single eyebrow at him. “You’ll never catch me.”
Tommy pointed at her. “You’ll never see me comin’.”
Ellie opened her mouth to start another patented Ellie-and-Tommy Show but someone called her name before she could really get going. You looked and found Dina and a couple other teenagers waving at her. “C’mon, Ellie!”
Ellie spun back around to look at you. “Gotta go!” She darted forward to give you a hug, and then Joel. You could see him fighting the urge to squeeze her tight. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He murmured something to her before he pulled away, and she grinned back at you both.
You reached out and tugged on her braid. “You know what to do if you need us?”
She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I can come home if I need to, I know. I’ll only be one street over.”
You smiled. It was still kind of new, for all three of you to say home and mean the same place. You’d moved in just a few months ago, after Ellie had burst out with it at dinner one night (oh come on, Joel, she basically lives here anyway. Besides, she has better taste in movies than you, I need her for back up) and it made you feel warm inside every time you thought about it. And a little bit like you might cry. “I know. Have fun at your sleepover, Ells.”
“I will!” she said, smiling brightly. As she turned and ran over to her friends, you glanced at Joel. He was looking a bit misty-eyed.
“She’ll be fine,” you said, nudging him with your elbow.
He nodded and turned to look at you. “I know. Just–”
“Just worried,” you said for him, and he nodded. You smiled. “Bet I can take your mind off it.”
“Annnnd that’s my cue. I’m leavin’,” Tommy butted in. He shook his head, hands raised in front of him, palms out. “I don’t wanna hear anymore about that. Good night.”
You laughed as Tommy walked away, and turned to grin at Joel.
“You ever gonna get tired of teasin’ him like that?” Joel asked, still smirking.
You hummed thoughtfully. “After all the times he and Maria couldn’t keep it in their pants and I stumbled across them? After the number of times I’ve seen your brother’s bare ass?” You shook your head. “Not any time soon.”
Joel laughed. “Alright, troublemaker, let’s get out of here.”
You let Joel lead you down the road towards your house, arm around your waist. You snaked your own around his middle, leaning into him as you walked.
“Whole house to ourselves,” you said, smiling. You watched him out of the corner of your eye. He hummed. “First time in quite a while.”
“Sure is, darlin’,” Joel said, looking at you.
You turned to look at him and smiled. He was still the most handsome person you’d ever seen. “What’re we going to do with it?
Joel pretended to think it over. “Well, I got a few ideas.” He winked at you.
You laughed. “Do you?”
He nodded. “Sure do.”
You turned at your front walk and stepped up onto the porch. “You gonna share with the class?”
Joel leaned forward and kissed you, and you smiled into it. It had been a while since you’d heard the music when he kissed you, but that didn’t stop you from reacting to it, to him, just the same way every time. You felt a shiver run up your spine as he murmured, voice deep, “let’s get inside, sweetheart, and I’ll show you exactly what I’m thinkin’.”
You smiled and did as he said. Whatever he had in mind, you had a feeling you were going to like it.
Joel Miller x f!reader | 10k | 18+ | masterlist | fic masterlist | ao3
fic summary: Joel Miller gave up on the idea of a soulmate at least 20 years and one apocalypse ago. But it turns out the universe hasn't given up on him quite yet.
Part 2: Joel was pretty sure he couldn't do this.
a/n: hellooo it's time for part 2! where did Joel run off to? let's find out! see tags/warnings below and check the fic masterlist for the full tags. Thank you again @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!! 🧡
tags/warnings for part 2: fluff, angst, panic attack (Joel), more family fluff, some pretty negative inner monologue (Joel), more soulmate lore, pregnancy mention (Maria), stop reading here if you like surprises, hand holding, a bit of other (PG) touching, reader has a brother who died, hand kiss, cheek kiss
Part 2
Joel was on the other side of Jackson before he registered his surroundings.
He came back to himself leaning against one of the houses they were working on, clear across town, chest heaving. He was covered in sweat but he felt ice cold all over.
He couldn’t breathe.
His chest felt tight, like it couldn’t expand far enough to let in any air, like he was trapped in a vice. He pushed back and leaned harder against the wall until his feet started to slip out from under him on the grass. He slid and stumbled his way to sitting against the wall in the dirt.
Joel knocked his head back against the wall and groaned.
Fuck.
“Fuck,” he muttered aloud. He couldn’t breathe.
And that was how Tommy found him.
“Whoa, shit,” he heard from his right and grimaced. “Joel? What the fuck–”
Tommy cut himself off as he dropped on his knees next to him. “Shit,” he repeated, reaching forward to grasp Joel’s shoulder.
Joel shuddered. “Can’t–” he tried to suck in a breath and failed. “Can’t breathe.”
“Alright, hey, big brother,” Tommy said, sounding a bit winded himself. He grabbed one of Joel’s hands and put it against his chest, and then flattened his own over Joel’s heart. Joel reached up and grasped it. Tommy pushed on his chest, just a bit, and Joel felt like his lungs opened up with the pressure. “Breathe with me, Joel. Just try and do what I’m doin’.”
He tried, and he couldn’t for a while. But Tommy was patient and after a long while of no sounds in their little corner but Joel’s breathing and Tommy’s voice, low and encouraging, he felt his breath begin to slow.
When Joel could finally draw in a deep breath again, he realized his hands were shaking.
“Shit,” he said, the first words he’d said in god knows how long. “Fuck.”
Tommy huffed a laugh and collapsed next to him against the wall. “You got that right. Shit and fuck, Joel.”
He clasped his hands together and focused on his breathing. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Yeah, I know.”
“That happen often?” Tommy asked, looking over at him.
Joel closed his eyes, avoiding his brother’s gaze. “Not so much lately. That’s what… I told you about it. Before.”
Tommy let out a long breath. “Yeah, I remember.” For a moment neither of them said anything, their breathing the only sound aside from the light breeze rusting the grass and the leaves of the tree that was shielding them from the road.
It turned out that out-of-his-mind-with-panic Joel was good at finding hiding spots. Huh, he thought, looking around.
“What…” Tommy sighed, cleared his throat. “What set it off?”
Joel could tell by his tone he was worried Joel wouldn’t answer. He definitely didn’t want to answer but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to hide this. Not in a town this small. “She–” he coughed. Took a long, slow breath. “Tommy.”
“Joel.” His brother nudged his arm with his elbow and Joel sighed again.
“It’s… fuck. Ok.” He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. “Bolts.”
There was a pause, and then Tommy said, in a slow, confused voice, “what about her?”
“She’s– Tommy, she’s my–” He couldn’t say it. How could he say it? He didn’t know how to say it.
Tommy turned towards him on the grass, eyebrows raised. “Wait. No. No fucking way.”
Joel groaned.
“No, you’re shitting me.” Tommy was starting to smile, then, and Joel closed his eyes again. “She’s what, Joel? Say it.”
Joel sighed what felt like the heaviest, longest sigh of his life. “She’s my…” he shook his head and he swore he could feel Tommy roll his eyes.
“She’s your one, ain’t she?” Tommy was outright grinning now, Joel could hear it. That little shit. “Holy fucking shit, Joel. Goddamn. Bolts is your soulmate?” Joel gave in and looked at his brother and the excitement on his face almost made him want to hide again.
“Yeah,” he muttered, looking down.
“Shit, Joel.” Tommy nudged him with hand. “What are you doin’ all the way over here?” He gestured at the yard around them.
Joel shook his head, brow furrowed. “I panicked,” he said, voice low. “Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Just… panicked. And ran.”
“You what?”
“I fucking ran, Tommy. What do you think I was doin’ over here, meditatin’? I ran and I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe and I don’t even know how I got here.” Joel was pissed at the universe for doing this to him, but most of all at himself. He felt his chest start to heave again until Tommy reached out and squeezed his upper arm.
“Hey,” he said, “ain’t no way you’re the first person to panic at meetin’ their soulmate.” Joel side-eyed him. “What, it’s probably true! Just– just go back and talk to her, it’ll be–”
Joel was shaking his head. “No,” he said, voice as firm as he could make it. “No way. I’m not goin’ back.”
“Joel–”
“No, Tommy. I won’t.” He didn’t know how to say what he was thinking, that she deserved better and he was broken, anyone could see it, why would he inflict that on anyone else and this? all this was… god she was so fucking beautiful. What would she think of him?
“Joel.” He could hear the exasperation coming back in Tommy’s voice. “You can’t–”
“I can.” He said and struggled to his feet. “And I will.”
He could hear Tommy’s sigh all the way down the block.
…
Joel spent the next two days hiding. There wasn’t a better word for it. He couldn’t pretend, not in his own head.
At one of their construction projects he managed to find and swap with someone who had patrol assigned the next day. He let Ellie know at dinner, and she grumbled again about not getting to go but didn’t seem to notice that Joel was very carefully not looking around the dining hall. Ellie was going to have a longer day again anyway, with some sort of special project at school in the afternoon.
Patrol kept him outside of Jackson for a while, and he felt his shoulders release the moment he rode through the gates. It was a boring route but just interesting enough to keep him from thinking.
Perfect.
That night he convinced Ellie to have dinner in, at home. He’d thought about it on patrol – now that he knew what Bolts looked like, he was certain he’d seen her around. He was certain he’d see her at the dining hall, too.
He squashed his brain’s attempts to linger on how perfectly he could picture her, after such a short time seeing her.
On the second day he went and dug into one of their projects on the outskirts of town, losing himself in the mindless tasks of ripping up carpet and sanding wood floors.
It was mid-afternoon before he realized he’d forgotten something important.
He froze when he heard Tommy stomp inside the building with Darren, knowing that meant it was well after 2 o’clock. It was Thursday, and therefore a day Ellie didn’t have school in the afternoon.
A day when she would go pick up supplies from Nuts ‘n Bolts. And he could ignore Tommy – he had years of practice, after all – but he wasn’t going to ignore Ellie.
Fuck.
…
That night Joel walked to the dining hall full of dread. He’d wracked his brain all afternoon and failed to come up with another excuse to eat at home. Besides, Ellie was a smart kid – she’d see through him sooner or later. And he had a feeling it would be sooner if she’d talked to Bolts.
Not that he thought she’d say anything. Not that he knew her, but from the way Ellie talked about her…
Joel very purposefully stopped thinking about it.
He stopped outside of the doors and took a deep, slow breath.
“Hey, brother,” he heard from behind him, and stifled a groan.
“Tommy,” he greeted, turning to look.
Tommy was squinting at him. “Showing your face today, hmm?”
“Shut up.” Joel walked inside without looking back.
At dinner, Joel used his Ellie and Maria buffer from Tommy to the best of his abilities. He kept Ellie talking about school and found himself asking Maria questions like he never had before.
Tommy eyed him the whole time.
“Hey Maria,” Ellie asked towards the end of the meal, looking thoughtful. “How many soulmates are there in Jackson? Tommy made it sound like a lot.”
Tommy laughed. “I didn’t say a lot, I just said it had happened at the gate before.”
Maria raised an eyebrow at her husband. “I’m not sure, Ellie,” she smiled. “According to George it’s more than the general population, Before. Percentage-wise. He was a sociologist.”
“What’s that?” Ellie asked, leaning forward.
“Like a scientist who studies societies and human behavior.”
Ellie sat up straight. “Cool! George from the stables?” Maria nodded and Ellie grinned. “Nice. I’ll ask him tomorrow.”
Joel looked over at her. “You goin’ to the stables tomorrow?”
Ellie nodded, looking smug. “I’ve got a delivery and a pick-up to do for Bolts.”
Joel coughed and clung to his neutral expression with every ounce of willpower he had.
“What?” Ellie said, eyeing him.
“Nothin’,” he wheezed and took a sip of water. “Went down the wrong pipe.”
Ellie rolled her eyes and patted him on the back. “What, are you too old to eat unsupervised now?” Tommy laughed and Joel scowled at him.
“You know, we’ve had a few more new people,” Tommy said, tone way too innocent. Joel narrowed his eyes. “Maybe we’ll be hearing about some new soulmates soon.”
Ellie perked up while Joel glowered, trying to transmit stop hinting into Tommy’s annoying little mind. “Ooh, yeah! Maybe I’ll get to see it next time.”
A few minutes passed without Joel realizing he’d stopped listening, until Ellie elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”
“What’s with you?”
“Nothin’.” Joel knew the moment the word let his lips it was the wrong move – she’d never believe him, and now she was insulted.
Ellie narrowed her eyes at him and he sighed. “No,” she said, tone suspicious. “Something is up with you.” Joel felt Maria’s gaze land on him too and stifled a groan. He was certain Tommy was grinning. “I’m going to figure it out, you know.”
Joel shrugged. “Nothin’ to figure out.” His tone was mild but he knew it probably sounded as forced as it felt. He needed to get out of there, out from under the too-knowing gazes of his brother and his kid. Not to mention Maria, who didn’t know him that well but was probably the smartest person in this damn town.
Not that he was going to tell her that.
Ellie glared at him for a minute and then allowed Tommy to change the subject. Joel didn’t trust it for a second.
…
She didn’t ask him about it when they got home, which put Joel even more on edge. She didn’t ask about it before she went to bed, either, or in the morning before school.
Joel was rusty but he recognized the paranoia that settled over him, the paranoia of knowing his kid was plotting something. Even if he didn’t know what.
Sarah, too smart for her own good, had done this to him more than once. There was the year she became determined to find her Christmas presents early. She’d launched an investigation in their house like nothing he’d ever seen, but still never found them. (They’d been at Tommy’s apartment the whole time.) And then there was the time she’d tried to set him up with her soccer coach (who was happily married, though Sarah hadn’t known that, and who had thankfully thought it was hilarious).
So when Joel found himself looking over his shoulder for a small, too smart menace all day, at least it felt familiar.
Somehow she still managed to catch him completely unawares when she pounced.
“You’re frowning even more than usual, so it must be bad,” she said, appearing from absolutely nowhere inside the house he was working on. Joel did not jump a foot in the air. He certainly didn’t make any noise. And he definitely didn’t launch his screwdriver 10 feet across the room.
“Jesus Christ, Ellie, make some goddamn noise,” he said, heart racing. He leaned against the wall next to him and turned to look at her. She was leaning against the doorway looking far too smug. He grimaced.
“You know your face is gonna get stuck like that.” She grinned at him. He’d said that to her on the road and now she said it to him every time he frowned. He didn’t think she’d noticed yet that he frowned more now because it made him feel warm inside every time she said it, when she picked up stuff like that from him.
Joel sighed. “I’m fine.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Sure. You’re not being weird at all, just like this morning when you left your coffee on the counter and didn’t drink it, or two days ago when you insisted we had to eat dinner at home and miss that weird chicken you like, or when you suddenly swapped patrol shifts with Pete rather than do whatever you’re doing in here. Totally normal Joel behavior. Nothing to see here, folks!”
Joel was a bit taken aback. “Ellie–”
Her face fell and he felt it like a fist around his heart. She seemed unsure of what she wanted to say but frowned. “We’re supposed to be honest with each other, Joel. If you don’t– if–”
“Hey,” he said, and held out a hand. Ellie came over and sat next to him as he slid down onto the floor. “I’m alright. I… It’s nothin’ like that. I’m just— I’m thinking through something’. Gettin’ my mind around it..” He winced internally, knowing he’d promised her already that he’d talk about soulmates, if and when it happened. Maybe he could put that off indefinitely. “It’s nothin’ bad. I promise. Just…” he sighed. “I need to think a bit. Let me figure it out, ok?”
She squinted at him again and nodded. “Ok. I can’t believe you didn’t drink your coffee, though.”
Joel groaned. “Me neither.” No wonder he felt like shit.
“And you have to tell me eventually.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I know, kiddo. I know.”
…
After all that, he couldn't muster the effort to even be surprised when Tommy was waiting on their front porch when they got home. Time’s up, Joel thought to himself, sighing. Just three days and he was already being cornered.
“Evening, folks,” Tommy said, smiling. Ellie doffed an imaginary cowboy hat at him before she scooted inside and Joel smiled against his will.
“Tommy,” he said, voice wary.
Tommy eyed him. “We need to chat.”
“Tommy–”
“Joel.” Tommy raised his eyebrows. For a moment they just looked at each other, and then Joel sighed.
“Get inside, then.”
Tommy followed him in and took a seat at the kitchen table. Joel heard the back door shut as Ellie went into the backyard. He sighed. “Well?”
Tommy leaned forward and didn’t waste time. “When are you going to talk to her?”
“I’m not.” Joel crossed his arms and frowned, looking away from his brother.
Tommy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Joel, you live in the same very small, rural, post-apocalyptic commune. You’re renovatin’ the damn town and she’s in charge of our supply inventory. How exactly do you plan to manage that?”
Joel frowned down at the table.
“Don’t answer that, I know you don’t have a plan. You’re just hidin’.”
Joel looked up at his brother, scowling. “I am not–”
“You are,” Tommy said, pointing at him, “and we both know it. You’ve done it before, Joel. When you met Sarah’s mama? When our mama found out you quit football and didn’t tell her?” Tommy counted each item off his fingers. “It’s not the first time you’ve run off to think about somethin’. Sure it won’t be the last.” Tommy tapped on the table. “But there ain’t no other way this ends, big brother. You have to talk to her.”
“Tommy, I don’t…” he trailed off. He took a deep breath and finally let out the question that had sent him running, that had been crowding behind his teeth for 3 days no matter how he tried to choke it back. “Did you ever think about what it meant, that you found Maria here? Here and now, in Jackson.”
Tommy sighed. His face fell, and Joel knew that his brother understood what he was asking. Of course he did, Joel never should have doubted him. “You mean, this whole business is supposed to be fate, right?”
“Right,” Joel said, wincing. He wanted to get up and walk away from the conversation but he knew Tommy wouldn’t let him. Wouldn’t put it past him to sit on him and make him have it. It wouldn’t be the first time, and even if he never said it out loud, Joel knew he was getting old. Older than the last time he’d wrestled his brother, for sure. He curled his hands into fists and pressed them into the table.
“And if fate brought you here, what’s that mean about everything else that happened?” Tommy’s voice was soft and knowing and the words hit Joel like blows.
He blinked and dropped his face into his hands. His hands were shaking. “Tommy–”
“Joel, I been thinkin’ about that for years, now.” Joel looked up to find Tommy frowning, shaking his head slowly back and forth. “And I don’t think it works like that. No, hear me out,” he said, raising a hand when Joel started to protest. “Maria and I have talked about everything at this point, everywhere we’ve been since, you know, and even before that. And Joel, wouldn’t you know it, but we almost met twice before this.” Tommy raised his eyebrows.
Joel blinked. “What? How–”
Tommy nodded. “Once in Austin. Once when I took that trip, Before, out to California.” Joel’s jaw dropped. “We were even in the same room once.” He laughed, and Joel couldn’t help but huff a startled laugh in response. “It was a big room — well, a mall, technically, at the food court — but still.”
“No kiddin’?”
Tommy laughed again. “No kiddin’. So, way I see it, the universe is bringing us together, somehow, but it wasn’t necessarily meant to happen now.” He shrugged. “I won’t pretend I’m some genius. But it feels right. And George told me it’s not uncommon for that to be true, for people to have near misses like that. Even more common now after everything.”
Joel sat back in his chair heavily. Could it be? He wanted to believe and wanted to run away from it, all at once. He couldn’t bear the thought that any of this – Sarah, Tess, Bill, Frank – he cut himself off. He couldn’t bear the thought of any of that being fated. It made him want to scream, made him want to tear things apart. Tear himself apart.
But if Tommy was right… for a long moment he just closed his eyes and breathed.
“Shit,” he said finally, and Tommy smiled. “I can’t… I need to think.”
But of course Tommy wasn’t going to let him. “So,” Tommy said, leaning forward again. “When are you going to talk to her? You gotta, Joel.”
Joel’s heart was racing as he came down from the rush at what Tommy had just told him. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and groaned. “What do I even say, Tommy? ‘Hey, sorry for the massive fuckin’ disappointment I’m sure it is to be my soulmate, nice to meet you.” He shook his head, waving a hand at Tommy when he opened his mouth. “Don’t even start. We both know–”
“Soulmate?!” Joel whipped his head to the right and found Ellie standing in the doorway, hand pressed against each side of the door frame. She was leaning forward into the kitchen, face and tone incredulous. “Joel, what the fuck–”
“Ellie,” he groaned and then glared at Tommy, who raised his hands in front of his chest.
“No, Joel, what the fuck,” she repeated, stepping inside. “You found your soulmate?! When?!” She slapped both palms down on the table. “Who is it?”
Tommy looked between the two of them and then opened his mouth. Joel leaned forward. “It’s–” Tommy started.
“Tommy,” Joel growled, cutting him off.
Ellie and Tommy both started talking at once.
“Joel, you can’t–” Ellie said, crossing her arms.
Tommy rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you can keep it a secret forever, brother,” he said.
“I know that,” he said, voice tense. “Let me tell her.”
Tommy nodded, leaning back in his chair.
“Ellie, it’s–”
“Is this what you were hiding?” She interrupted, frowning.
He nodded. “I just… needed some time.”
She looked at him for a moment and then looked down and set her jaw. “Joel, we said we’d live. That was the deal.”
“I know it was.” He leaned towards her.
“You said you’d tell me, because it seems like getting to know your soulmate might be part of living.” She looked up at him and then back at the floor as she recited his words back to him. “Because FEDRA was full of shit, right? About pretty much everything.” Her tone said she wanted him to tell her that was true. It was something they’d talked about on the road, a bit, an idea she was still getting used to after growing up in their care.
“Right,” he said, voice firm. He didn’t want her to doubt that for a second.
She nodded. “And soulmates must be something good, then. If they didn’t like ‘em.” She sounded like she was reminding herself as well as him.
Joel nodded, watching her. “Yeah.”
“Who is it?” Ellie asked again, finally, and Joel leaned back.
“It’s Bolts,” he said, and her head flew upwards, mouth dropping. “When we met the other day. We heard it.”
Her mouth made a little ‘o’ of surprise and he felt himself smile. “Really?!”
He nodded. “Really. I, uh. I wasn’t… I just needed some time,” he repeated again, grasping for the certainty he’d felt for the last three days, that staying away was for the best. It was slipping away from him and he knew he wasn’t ready for what he might find in its place.
Ellie moved forward and leaned against the table next to him. She poked him in the shoulder. “Maybe you can take your time and talk to her at the same time. Or something. Bolts is cool, man, you’ll see.”
“She is,” Tommy agreed.
Joel looked between his brother and his kid and he knew he was outnumbered.
“Ok,” he said, and they both smiled. “Ok, look, if I promise to talk to her, will you lay off?” He looked between them. “Both of you. I can’t…” He scrubbed one of his hands through his hair. Ellie reached out and ruffled it up some more and he smiled. “I’ll talk to her but let me take my time, alright?”
They nodded. Tommy stood up. “Alright, Joel. Let me know if you want to talk about it. I’ll see y’all at dinner,” he said, and squeezed Joel’s shoulder on the way out.
When the door shut behind him, Ellie started to move away, but Joel caught her arm. “Hey,” he said, voice soft. “You know… you know you come first, right?”
She furrowed her brow but met his eyes. “What?”
Joel sighed. “I’m not… I’m not rushin’. But you know, no matter what. Soulmate or not. You come first for me. It’s you and me, Ellie. Before everythin’ else. Ok?”
Ellie wavered for a second, looking a bit like she had no idea what to do with that information. “Joel–”
“Just need you to know that, is all,” he murmured, poking her in the arm.
She grimaced and then grinned as she poked him back. “I do know that, Joel.” She looked shy and he smiled.
“Good.”
“Yeah, ok, enough feelings.” She pretended to puke and backed away from him. He laughed, feeling lighter than he had since he’d heard the music.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go find dinner, kiddo.”
…
Promise made, Joel knew his time had run out. Still, he managed to push it three more days, until Monday. He drifted through those three days and tried not to think too hard about what he was going to do.
Ellie kept giving him looks, though, so he knew he couldn’t get away with going any longer than that. But she kept her word and she and Tommy both laid off of him.
When Joel stood up from his desk on Monday afternoon, though, Tommy grinned. “Where ya headed?”
“Mind your business, you old busybody,” Joel said, and stalked out of the office before Tommy could tell him he sounded like their mother, who used to say that often.
“Ok, mom!” Tommy yelled after him, and Joel sighed as he headed out the front door.
The walk to Nuts ‘n Bolts was quicker than he would have liked, and Joel grimaced when he stood outside the door. He tugged at his shirt sleeves and then sighed. Not like it’s gettin’ any better than this, he thought.
“Alright, Miller,” he muttered to himself. “Buck up.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and stepped forward to open the door.
He’d barely taken three steps inside when he heard her voice and froze in his tracks. “I’ll be right there,” she called, and he closed his eyes. Had her voice sounded like that last time? Or the time before?
So warm?
He clenched his fists and cleared his throat. “It’s me,” he said, and it came out garbled. He cleared his throat again. “It’s me,” he repeated, clearer that time. “Um, Joel. Joel Miller.” He winced.
The room suddenly felt still and he realized she’d stopped whatever she was doing.
“Oh,” she said, voice light, so low he almost didn’t hear it. He took a step forward. “I… let me–”
“I’m sorry,” he called. He hated the hesitance he could hear in her voice. “I… can we talk? I won’t run away this time.” He winced again and took another step forward and to the side so he could peer around the shelf. He still didn’t see her.
“You promise?” her voice sounded closer and he felt a shiver run down his spine.
“Promise?” he asked, overwhelmed. He could hear her footsteps and he knew she was nearby.
Bolts turned the corner at the end of the row, and Joel felt his breath catch in his throat. She was somehow more beautiful than he’d remembered, just more in general. He traced his eyes over the lines of her body and felt himself start to turn red.
“That you won’t run?” she repeated, and took a single step forward. He nodded and met her, step for step. They were so close now, only a few feet away from each other.
“I promise.”
…
You weren’t sure he was going to come back.
You’d heard all about Joel Miller before you met him. The whole town was full of gossips who loved to talk about anything new. Add in the fact that you were usually supplying the people he worked with on a daily basis and, well…
Safe to say you’d heard all about him.
He was tall, he was strong, he was scary, he was tough, he was only soft with his kid, he was grumpy, he had a great laugh, he never laughed, he was patient. He frowned all the time, but no, when he smiled he was so handsome, and did you see him lift that pillar into place? Did you see his arms? Did you see how careful he was with his big hands when he showed the new kid how to strip a wire?
You might have been eavesdropping at dinner for that last bit.
But for a while that was all he was to you – rumors. Until Ellie started dropping by to pick up their orders. That’s when you really started to learn about the man behind the stories, because he was all Ellie wanted to talk about.
“Joel says everyone Before wanted to be a contractor when they grew up. Is that true?”
“Joel told me about paintball, did you ever play? Sounds sick. Bet I would’ve destroyed that old man in paintball.”
“Joel said parents used to ‘ground’ their kids as punishment. Were you ever grounded? Was it really just staying home and doing nothing? It sounds like it should mean you have to, like, lay on the ground or something.”
“Ok, we were talking about the Olympics and Joel told me about water polo and luge and ski jumping and I need a second opinion. What? Like, what?”
Ellie was hilarious – every time she visited, Bolts found herself grinning and laughing. Especially at the puns.
You saw her with a man you presumed was Joel a couple of times, but they were always busy. And so for a while that’s who Joel Miller was to you – that broad-shouldered guy who ate dinner with Ellie, a good dad who clearly doted on his daughter.
And then, finally, you met him.
One of the patrols had brought you back some new supplies to sort, and you were waist deep in it (literally) when Joel finally stopped by the shop again. You could hear him moving towards you through the store, and found yourself grinning at the box you were leaning into, amused at the easy banter flowing between you.
When you turned and looked at him, still smiling, you froze.
He was gorgeous – brown hair, warm brown eyes, easy smile. You’d been right about his shoulders – so broad, so sturdy. He looked strong.
Somehow you managed to notice all of that despite the music blaring in your head.
You could barely wrap your mind around it. This man, this incredibly attractive man, was your soulmate? This man that you knew to be smart and capable and a great dad?
Your soulmate was still alive?
The music started to fade and you felt yourself shiver, breaking whatever spell had held you in place. You stepped forward, and said his name…
And felt your stomach drop when he turned and ran.
…
You might have avoided the dining hall for a few days after that.
To be honest, at least with yourself – and you’d gotten pretty good at that over the last two decades of apocalypse – you avoided pretty much everything that wasn’t work or your little house nearby.
You didn’t want to see anyone. You couldn’t get the look on his face when he ran out of your head and by the next day you’d pinpointed it.
Joel had looked panicked.
You wavered between worry that you had caused his panic and worry that he really did not seem to be interested in the idea of having a soulmate.
And it’s not like you were on the edge of your seat, waiting for yours. You’d given up on that years ago, as nice as it sounded. There had been a lot going on after all.
But the idea of finally finding them? Finding him?
Well. You might have been excited, until you saw his reaction. Now you weren’t sure what to think.
Maybe he just needs time, you told yourself, wincing.
When Ellie came in as normal, like nothing was wrong, you knew he hadn’t told her. You knew it hadn’t really been that long, and he’d clearly been upset, but you also felt a pinch of hurt at that.
You shoved it down somewhere deep.
By the weekend, though, you felt like your secret was bouncing around inside your chest trying to get out. After you closed up the shop on Friday you sighed.
You needed your best friend.
…
Thankfully, when you stepped inside their house, Tommy seemed to be out.
“Maria?” you called, looking around the corner into the kitchen.
“Upstairs!” you heard her call, and turned towards the stairs. “Come on up!”
You found her sitting in the baby’s room sorting little onesies. You knew she’d been collecting them for a while, both from others in town and Tommy on the lookout on the patrol.
“Think you got enough?” you asked, smiling. She rolled her eyes at you and laughed.
“More than,” she said, leaning back in her chair and placing a hand on her belly. “Got about half the hand-me-downs this town has to offer – Isabela has the other half.” She took a deep breath and settled back. “What’s up? Did we have plans?”
You shook your head and sat on the floor by the pile of clean clothes. “Want me to help fold?” you asked, and she nodded. “I, uh, need to talk to you about something.” you reached for the tiny t-shirt on the top of the pile – it said “taco time!” with a cartoon taco that appeared to be dancing – and snorted. “Where’d you get this one?”
Maria smiled. “Donation from someone. I have it written down somewhere.”
“Course you do,” you said, starting to move through the pile. The shirts felt almost too small to fold, which made you smile.
“Talk about what?” she asked, reaching for another onesie to fold.
You sighed. “So, um. I might have…” you put the shirt you were holding down – this one said “donut worry, be happy” with a picture of a donut with sprinkles – and covered your face with your hands. Maybe it would be easier to talk about if you didn’t have to look at anything. “I might have found my… my soulmate.” You coughed.
There was a moment of silence, and you peeked through your fingers.
Maria was frozen, staring at you, jaw dropped, onesie hanging from her fingers unfolded. As you made eye contact she started to grin. “No fucking way.”
“Way,” you said, and let yourself fall backwards onto the floor. Staring at the ceiling, you said, “on Tuesday.”
“Tuesday?!” she said, incredulous. You felt something hit your chin and lifted your head – she’d thrown the onesie at you.
“Seriously?” you asked, holding up the onesie.
“Tuesday?” she said again, holding her hands out.
You sighed and dropped your head back onto the floor. “Tuesday,” you confirmed. “I… he ran away.”
There was another silence, but this time you counted down in your head. 3… 2… 1…
“WHAT?”
You smiled at the ceiling. Maria sounded pissed.
“He did what? Who is it?”
You shook your head. “I think… well. He looked pretty panicked. I think he wasn’t expecting it.”
“Has he been back, talked to you again?” she asked and you shook your head, rolling it back and forth on the floor.
“Nope.”
“Who. Is. It.” Her voice was implacable and you knew you’d run out of ways to avoid the question.
“Don’t freak out, ok?” You lifted your head and glanced at her, and found she was staring at you, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “Don’t freak out.”
She sighed. “That doesn’t sound promising.”
You fell back again and covered your face with your hands. “It’s Joel,” you said, voice muffled. There was a long pause.
“Did you just say,” she said, and her voice was carefully even, “Joel?”
You nodded.
“Joel Miller?”
You nodded again, hands still covering your face.
“Tommy’s brother Joel Miller?”
The evenness of her voice was starting to freak you out, so you peeked out from behind your hands. Maria’s face was carefully blank, and you winced.
“Yeah,” you said, heaving yourself into a sitting position. “That Joel.”
Maria stared at you. You wondered if you were about to hear another Joel freaking Miller rant from Jackson’s Number One Joel Skeptic, but after a moment the tension seemed to leech from her shoulders. She sighed again and rubbed her eyes.
“Ok, well clearly I must be at least a little bit wrong about him, if he’s your soulmate.”
You raised your eyebrows, shocked. “What?”
Maria groaned as she leaned forward, but waved you off when you moved to help. “I know you. I hope I know what kind of person would be your match.” She sighed, and it sounded like she’d rather step on legos that say what she said next. “If he’s yours, there must be parts of him I haven’t seen yet.” She grumbled something under her breath that sounded like “all the good parts, probably.”
You smiled. Maria may be stubborn at times, but she was the best friend you’d ever had, and it showed. “From the way Ellie tells it, he’s the best person in the world.”
Maria snorted. “Let’s leave that for another day.” You laughed. “Ok, perception-of-the-world-altering news aside, did you really just meet Joel on Tuesday?”
“Yep.”
“How is that possible?” She looked stunned. “You’ve met Ellie. Hasn’t he even been to the shop? Isn’t he constantly ordering supplies?”
You shrugged. “He left quickly that one time, never saw his face. Ellie picks up all of their orders now and she loves it.”
Maria hummed. “You know, you might have set the record in Jackson for the longest time in town before realizing you’re soulmates.”
You rolled your eyes. “It wasn’t that long.”
She eyed you. “Sure.”
“But anyway. He freaking ran. Not sure what I’m supposed to do with that.”
Maria shook her head. “Now that I know it’s Joel?” She shook her head again and sighed. “Makes more sense. Probably couldn’t handle his feelings.”
“I mean, maybe. He looked so panicked, though.” You bit your lip and looked down at your hands. “And from what I’ve heard from Ellie, he’s plenty up front about his feelings when he needs to be. She’s a good kid, you know? You can just tell he’s pretty open with her. And you can see his parenting in things she says.”
Maria sighed. “Yeah, I know he’s a good dad. Just surprised to learn he’s got room for anything else.”
You frowned, thinking of the look on his face before he’d turned away. “Well, he might not.”
Maria shook her head slowly, looking thoughtful. “I assume you don’t want me to talk to Tommy about this.”
You winced. “Not yet. I need… a little more time.”
“Alright,” she said, and picked up a new onesie to fold. “But hey,” when you looked up, she was smirking. Uh oh. “You know, now that I think about it,” she grinned, “not sure I’ve ever met anyone more your type than Joel Miller.”
“No,” you said, but she kept going.
“Tall, messy hair, broad shoulders? Those arms?” She waggled her eyebrows at you. “I’ve seen those hands. They must be genetic, because you know how I feel about Tommy’s.”
You couldn’t help it, you laughed. “Maria–”
“Shoulda guessed the moment I saw him.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that bad,” you said, shaking your head.
She hummed. “Sure,” she said, and you knew she was mocking you.
You sighed. “That was my first thought, when I heard it,” you admitted. “Oh shit, he’s hot, basically.”
Maria laughed. “You know it was the same for me, with Tommy. From the first moment I couldn’t help but think, well damn, just look at him.”
You both laughed. “Guess those Millers have good genes.”
She shook her head, still laughing. “They really do. Bet this baby will be so cute they get whatever they want forever.” You both smiled at the thought. She sighed. “Jesus. What are the odds, us and them?”
“I wondered about that.” You smiled a bit wistfully. “Maybe George would be able to tell us.”
You both laughed again, and for a moment you let yourself feel the warmth of it – that you’d found your soulmate, and he was your best friend’s brother-in-law. What were the odds, really?
It was hard to feel very hopeful about it, but for a moment, you tried.
…
By the time Monday rolled around, you were wondering if you might need to be the one to seek Joel out. It felt like the ball was in his court, though, and you really didn't want to chase after someone who didn’t want to be chased. You figured eventually you could call in the cavalry, anyway.
The cavalry being Tommy, of course. You wondered if Joel had told him.
You lost yourself in your work, sorting supplies and filling orders, and before you knew it it was almost time for lunch. You’d just started sorting through your last order, eager to take a break, when the bell over the door tinkled.
“Be right there,” you called absently, frowning down at the pile of metal hooks in front of you that seemed to be tangled. How did these get so bad?
You heard whoever it was clear their throat. “It’s me. Um, Joel. Joel Miller.”
You froze, staring down at the tangled hooks in your hands.
Joel.
You needed to say something back. You shook yourself and dropped the hooks. The clank of their impact on the countertop made you wince. Your voice came out strangled. “O..oh. I… let me–”
But he interrupted whatever you were going to say. You weren’t even sure, yourself.
“I”m sorry,” he said, and you felt your stomach swoop. You had no idea what your face was doing, and you were suddenly glad he couldn’t see you. “I…” he trailed off and you had no idea if you should say something.
What would you even say?
“Can we talk?” he continued. “I won’t run away this time.”
You heard him take a step and it startled you into motion. You turned towards the door and took a step towards the shelf you knew was probably hiding you from view. You took a deep breath. He won’t run. “You promise?” You stood just around the corner from where you knew you’d probably find Joel and froze.
“Promise?” He sounded confused and you wondered if he was just as overwhelmed as you suddenly felt.
You can do this. You nodded to yourself and, after nervously straightening your shirt, stepped around the corner.
He was just as tall and broad as you remembered, even though he was leaning a bit like he was trying to make himself smaller. He was repeatedly tightening one of his hands into a fist and then releasing it, a nervous movement that caught your eye before you met his gaze.
He was looking right into your eyes, and he was so handsome.
“Um,” you said, shaking yourself. “That you won’t run?” You took a step forward and Joel nodded. He took a step forward, too, and you found yourself only a few feet away from him. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his.
“I promise,” he said, voice low. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, along with a lot of worry.
You smiled, and it grew when his gaze dropped down to trace over it. “Ok then.” You reached forward and lightly brushed your fingertips over the back of the hand he had strained in a fist. “C’mere,” you said, wrapping your fingers around his hand and tugging. His fist finally relaxed and he let you slide your hand into his. You felt a tingle slide down your spine.
You turned and led him through the maze of your shop to the back area with its little green couch. Tommy had helped you drag it back here when you’d first decided to use this space for inventory. It was just big enough for you to nap on, or for you to sit on with Joel without touching. You sat and turned so that you leaned slightly against the arm. He sat next to you.
For a moment, neither of you said anything.
You looked down and saw his hand resting next to his leg. Now that you’d touched him, you couldn’t help but want to touch him again. You reached out, slowly crossing the distance between you, and brushed your fingertips over the back of his hand. His hand twitched and you started to pull away, but he followed you – he slid his hand slowly along the couch between you, palm rasping over the worn fabric, before flipping it and taking your hand in his. He squeezed it lightly and you felt the corner of your mouth lift in a smile as you looked back up at him.
“I–”
“I’m–”
Joel started talking at the same time you did, and you both smiled. He ducked his head but lightly squeezed your hand again. “Go ahead,” he said.
You shook your head. “No, you first.”
He raised his head and met your eyes again. He gave you a half smile that made your heart start to pound in your chest. Handsome.
“Had the sudden urge to say ‘ladies first.’ Don’t think I’ve said that to anyone in years.”
You snorted a laugh. “I don’t think anyone has said that to me in years. I’m not exactly a lady. And there’s not a lot of time for pretence in an apocalypse.”
Joel shook his head, still smiling. “Being here, it’s so…” he looked around your little shop. “Normal? Not exactly like it was Before, but…”
You nodded. “It was never going to be like Before. But it is weirdly normal. Still gets me sometimes.”
He looked back at you, eyebrows raised. “Still gets you?” He huffed a laugh. “Haven’t you been here for years? Guess it might be a long while before I get used to it, then.”
You shrugged. “I think it still gets all of us, sometimes. Makes it easier not to take it for granted.” You turned towards him a bit more, lifting your knee onto the couch between you. Your hands came to rest next to it and you tried not to notice the heat of his hand against the side of your thigh.
Joel looked down and took a deep breath. “What were you going to say, before?”
You smiled again and let your eyes trace over the shape of him on your couch – his tousled hair, the line of his neck, his broad shoulders. His hand in yours. “I was just going to say, I’m glad you came back.”
He raised his head and met your eyes. “Me too.”
“I, uh…” you trailed off, glancing over his face. “I wasn’t sure you were going to. Come back.”
Joel grimaced, but when you started to pull your hand away he held on. “I’m sorry. Again. I’d…” he sat up straighter and turned a bit towards you. The side of his thigh came to rest against your knee and you felt your awareness begin to narrow to all of the places you were touching. You felt it like a tingle over your skin. It was so easy to touch him, you realized, and you wondered if that was part of being soulmates. His voice startled you when he continued, “I’d like to explain. Or, try to. If that’s alright with you.”
He looked at you, and for a moment you simply looked at each other. It hit you, suddenly, that you were looking at your soulmate. Your soulmate. You smiled again. “Have to admit, I’ve been curious.”
“I don’t blame you,” he said, and you noticed he seemed to be tracing you with his eyes the same way you’d done to him a moment ago. You felt your face start to get hot. “Must’ve been disappointin’... hearin’, um. Hearin’ it. And then me–” he cut himself off, shaking his head.
“I won’t pretend I wasn’t upset,” you said, but squeezed his hand. He was there now, after all. He came back. “But I might have been a bit distracted, you know, in the moment. The upset settled in after.”
“Distracted?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow.
Your face burned. “Um,” you said, looking down. You peeked up at him through your eyelashes. “You’re, well. You know.”
Joel started to smile and you knew he knew exactly what you weren’t saying. “I know?” His tone was teasing, and something inside your chest came alight. Your soulmate.
“Joel Miller, you know. Don’t make me say it.”
He leaned closer, just a bit, and his full smile took your breath away. “Would it help if I said I think you’re beautiful? Thought it last week and again today.”
You grinned. “Well, that does make it easier for me to tell you I think you’re handsome.” You bit your lip. “‘S those shoulders.”
“My shoulders?” he said on a laugh.
You nodded. He had a great laugh, but you noticed it seemed to surprise him every time he did it. “Definitely. And, well.” You hid your face. “I’m getting ahead of myself.”
He flushed, suddenly, and your eyes narrowed.
“Joel?” you asked, and he started to lean back. You reached out and tugged on his sleeve with your free hand. “What?”
“I, uhh…” he trailed off. “Nothin’.”
“Thought you were going to explain.” When he looked up you smiled, trying to make it clear you were teasing.
He shook his head, face serious. “I’ll… let me do that. Explain.”
“Alright,” you said, softly, squeezing his hand to encourage him. When you did, you realized your tangled hands were now resting on your thigh, you’d moved them sometime in the last few minutes without noticing. You bit your lip. “Go ahead.”
Joel sighed and dropped his head back to rest against the couch. “Well, I’m sure it was obvious that I panicked.” He peeked at you and you nodded. “I figured my soulmate had died. Long time ago.” He shrugged. “Never thought I’d find you here.” As he said that he let his head fall to the side so he could meet your eyes. “Never expected it.”
You nodded. You knew the feeling.
“But, um.” He took a deep breath. “Alright. Let me get this out, not sure if I’ll be able to. But I want to try.” You squeezed his hand. He shut his eyes. “I had a d– a daughter. Before.” He cleared his throat and you could hear how difficult it was for him to say this. You leaned forward.
“Joel–”
He shook his head and squeezed your hand. You squeezed back. “Sarah.” Saying her name seemed to leave him breathless and you wished you’d known him long enough to pull him into a hug. You figured holding hands was already pushing it. “And T–” he stumbled over his words. “Well, I’m sure we’ve both lost people. Important people.” His free hand, resting on his left thigh, was shaking. You reached across his body and slipped your hand into his. He let you tug it towards you, turning his body so that both of your joined hands were resting in your lap. His eyes were still closed. “And I couldn’t–” he sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed both of your hands. “I couldn’t bear the idea that any of that was m– meant,” he took another deep breath. “Meant to be.” He almost whispered the last few words and you felt it like a vice grip around your heart.
“No,” you said, voice firm. It startled him, and his eyes flew open. You could see the emotions swirling in them. “I don’t believe that. Never have.”
“No?” he repeated, leaning towards you. You could feel his full attention on you and you swallowed roughly.
“Never have,” you repeated. “I don’t believe in fate.”
He looked taken aback. You weren’t surprised, it wasn’t the first time you’d gotten this reaction. “You don’t? What about–”
You shook your head. “My parents weren’t soulmates,” you said. You still felt a pang, all these years later, just thinking about them. You shook it off. “And they were happy. And there are so many people out there who never find them.” You smiled, wryly. “Could be more now.” He nodded. “Way I see it, there’s someone out there who just fits you,” you squeezed his hands, “but that doesn’t mean everything’ll be sunshine and roses when you find them. You still have to work at it, to choose them. And…” it was your turn to trail off, emotions clogging your throat.
Joel leaned forward, seeming to realize you were suddenly having trouble. “Hey, you don’t have to–”
You shook your head, and he squeezed your hands. You realized he had turned more and your knee was now resting on top of his. Somehow it grounded you. You cleared your throat. “My brother. He– Outbreak day.” You took a slow breath in and out. “He met his soulmate young. They weren’t ready. They were just starting to…” you shook your head. “Anyway. It’s not always easy, even if you fit. You might meet at the wrong time. And you still have to try, to want it.” You looked at Joel again and found a look on his face that told you he knew exactly what you meant.
“I should be honest,” he said, and something about how he said it sent ice down your spine. You almost started to pull away but he wouldn’t let you. “No, listen, darlin’. I want you to hear it from me. I spent years scoffin’ at the idea of findin’ my soulmate. Tommy’s heard me say it, wouldn’t be surprised if he talked about it. But it wasn’t really because I didn’t want one.” He slipped his right hand free from yours for the first time since you’d sat down and your breath caught when his fingertips brushed against your cheek. His hand dropped back into his lap and you missed its warmth. “I think I always did. Want one. I just…” he grimaced. “Was pretty sure no one would want me. No one should, anyway.”
Your eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. “What?”
Joel tilted his head. “What?” he repeated.
“Joel.” you said, leaning forward. “Why wouldn’t someone want you?”
He blinked, taken aback. “I… well. Tommy’d say I’m a stubborn asshole. And I’ve done…” he shook his head. “Things that weren’t…I wasn’t… there’s not a lot of me left.” He struggled to put whatever he was thinking into words, but you were pretty sure you knew what he was getting at.
“Joel,” you said again, and he looked at you, eyes wide. “We’ve all done things we didn’t want to do, or things we regret. And more things we don’t, plenty of terrible things we’d do again if we had the chance.” You lifted your free hand, wondering if you could touch him the way he’d touched you, but you chickened out and dropped it on top of your hands that were still tangled together. “Seems like there’s plenty of you left, Miller.”
“How d’you know?” He sounded like he wanted to believe you but wasn’t sure if he did.
You smiled at him. “I’ve heard all about you from Ellie, you know. You’re a good dad, Joel.” You watched as he took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Ellie, she… I was different. Before her.”
“I think I get that,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “I was a different person before I came here.”
You both took a moment to just breathe. You were starting to feel a bit runover from all the emotions you’d just spilled and Joel looked like he might feel the same. You decided to take a chance.
“Besides,” you said, smirking, “I’d say there’s exactly the right amount of you, Joel.” You watched as he started to blush, again, and grinned.
“Really?” he said, tone wry.
“I already told you I think you’re handsome,” you said. “I meant it.” You let your eyes trail over him again and bit your lip.
Joel coughed. “Earlier, when I said it was nothin’.” You nodded – you did want to know what he’d been thinking when he’d blushed that first time. “The first time I saw you, you were, ah…” he trailed off and turned even more red.
You thought back, trying to remember… and oh. Oh shit.
“The box?” you said, feeling yourself get hot. “Oh no.”
He nodded, and suddenly his gaze was different. It was deeper, somehow. “Oh yes. The box.” He smiled and leaned forward. “I was already thinkin’ how funny you were, and how much I was enjoyin’ talkin’ to you.” Was his voice deeper? You shivered. “And then I turned the corner and, well. Shit.” He laughed and shook his head. “Might’ve been my first thought when I saw you. Those jeans looked real nice on you, darlin’.” You shivered. You realized you’d shivered every time he’d called you that. You wanted to hear him say it again.
“Maria said she wasn’t surprised when I told her,” you said, grinning, “because you’re exactly my type.”
Joel looked surprised. “You told Maria?”
“Oh,” you said, but well, of course you had. “She’s my best friend.”
He nodded. “It’s– that’s fine. I told Tommy and Ellie. I’m just surprised you still want to talk to me.” He grimaced. “Maria ain’t my biggest fan.”
You laughed, and laughed a bit more when he sighed. “Oh believe me, Joel, I know. But I think she’ll come around.”
He looked skeptical. “Not sure I agree with you but you know her better’n me.”
His words finally registered with you and you couldn’t help but ask, “what did, ah… What did Ellie say?”
Joel smiled. “She likes you a lot. And me and her, we made each other a promise. About livin’ here.”
You tilted your head, studying him. “A promise?”
He nodded. “That we’d try. Try and live, I guess. Try and make it work. So… I would have talked to you either way, I want you to know that. But like I said, I’m stubborn. I might’ve been a bit slower about it without her remindin’ me.”
You laughed again. “She’s a force, that girl.” You knew he could hear how much you admired her in your tone because he grinned.
“She is,” he said, and you could hear how much he loved her. “I also promised her I wasn’t in a rush. And, well. Is that alright with you? If we take it slow. I want to get to know you, I do, just–”
“Of course, Joel.” You squeezed his hand again. “Of course. I… it was a surprise for me, too, you know. I’ve been on my own a long time. Even if you are way too handsome.”
He blushed. You grinned.
“Well then, darlin’,” he said, and you shivered again. He must’ve noticed that time because he smirked. “How do you feel about havin’ lunch together? Maybe tomorrow?”
“I’d like that, Joel.” You were feeling warm, now, and much more settled than you had in days. You figured Joel had the right idea, getting all of this out in the open early. “Here? Away from the peanut gallery.”
He smiled. “Sounds perfect. I’ll bring somethin’.”
As you fell into an easier silence you both seemed to realize that you were sitting with your knee propped on his and both of your hands tangled with one of his. You both sat back and gently disentangled.
“Alright, then,” he said, and made to stand.
You leaned forward before he could. “Joel?” He nodded, looking at you. You leaned forward even farther, into his space, until you could feel the warmth of him. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and tried not to think about how much you liked the way his beard felt against your lips. “Thank you for coming back,” you murmured, close to his ear.
Joel turned his head slightly, and suddenly your faces were only an inch or so away from each other. “I was always comin’ back. Promise.” He leaned forward nudged his forehead against yours. “Thank you for waitin’.” As he leaned back he took your hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed your knuckles softly and you gasped.
You nodded. “Of course.”
Joel stood, finally, and you let him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’.”
“Tomorrow,” you agreed, and you watched him walk back towards the front of the store. When he was out of sight you fell back against the couch and sighed, head swimming from the way he’d just kissed you. And you’d kissed him.
Joel Miller x f!reader | 7.3k | 18+ | masterlist | fic masterlist | ao3
fic summary: Joel Miller gave up on the idea of a soulmate at least 20 years and one apocalypse ago. But it turns out the universe hasn't given up on him quite yet.
Part 1: Back in Jackson, settling in was both easier and harder than Joel expected.
a/n: here's part 1! I hope you enjoy! we're starting out with Joel stumbling his way through settling into Jackson. Ellie, too. see tags/warnings below and check the fic masterlist for the full tags. Thank you again @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!! 🧡
tags/warnings for part 1: angst, Joel is having a lot of feelings ok, family vibes, family fluff, reference to (unnamed) David, Ellie has a bit of a dissociative episode (school related), get ready for soulmate lore (for this AU)
Part 1
“She’s the one, Joel.”
Joel didn’t know what to make of Maria at first.
Sure, she didn’t seem to like him much, but he didn’t really expect or need to be liked. She’d definitely heard a few too many stories from Tommy and made up her mind that most of it (if not all of it) was Joel’s fault.
Fair enough.
But that wasn’t what was throwing him off, what was making him feel like everything he’d known had picked up and settled just a bit to the left. Leaving him out of step and off balance, trying to move forward but uncertain where to find solid ground.
Tommy hadn’t told him right away, but once he had him alone, he couldn’t hold it in.
“She’s the one, my one. First time we locked eyes — over the barrel of her gun, of course, didn’t trust me one bit — I heard ‘em. Ours are bells, can you believe it?” Tommy laughed, and Joel knew with certainty he’d never seen a smile quite like that on his brother’s face before. “I froze, had no idea what to do. Couldn’t hear anything but the song in my head, couldn’t see anything but Maria. And then she said, ‘well. Better come with me, then.’” Tommy laughed again. “Got her to smile at me for the first time later that night. Wasn’t easy.”
Joel huffed a single laugh, trying not to frown for Tommy’s sake.
“After… well. After everything, I’d given up. And then there she was, last place I ever thought I’d find her.” Tommy sighed and looked so in love Joel wanted to throw his glass of whiskey across the bar.
He didn’t. He downed it, instead.
“I…” he shook his head. “I’m happy for you.”
Tommy chuckled. “Don’t look it, but I know you, so I’m not offended.”
Joel winced and frowned again. “I—“
Tommy waved his hand in the air. “No, no, I remember. ‘Soulmates? That type of crap don’t matter when the world’s gone to shit. Why bother?’ I’ve heard you say it enough times, Joel.”
Joel hunched his shoulders up by his ears and sighed. “I am happy for you. I know I ain’t… I know how I’ve been.” He glanced at Tommy, whose eyebrows had flown upwards at Joel’s admission, and then back down to his empty glass. “If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”
“Thank you,” Tommy said, voice sincere, if surprised. “I think you’ll like her, though she doesn’t like you much.”
This time Joel did laugh as he replied, “just say it. I know you’re thinkin’ it.” He elbowed Tommy and in unison, they said, “means she’s got good taste.”
Tommy laughed and started telling Joel more about the town and Joel sighed, relieved to change the topic.
Soulmates.
He hadn’t thought about finding his since 2003, and he wasn’t going to start now. They were probably dead, anyway.
Why bother?
…
Joel had never talked about it with Tess. Like so many things, she’d understood him without him needing to say anything at all.
He worried that he’d taken that for granted, by the end.
Tess had lost her soulmate in the outbreak, and she wasn’t looking for a replacement, she said.
They fit together.
(There were stories, rare ones, of people who heard the music after knowing each other for years instead of instantly or after only a short time — usually kids who knew each other growing up and didn’t hear their music until later.
It was even more rare to have more than one soulmate.
Joel only let himself think about that in his darkest, lowest moments. That maybe one day he’d hear it. Maybe it would be nice if that were in the cards for him and Tess.
It wasn’t.)
They never talked about it, but he knew that she always knew what he wasn’t saying — I’ll never find them, they’re probably gone, and I don’t want to know if they are gone.
Who would want me now?
Finding them would be worse.
Tess never pushed, and he never offered.
After everything, looking back, he only wished he had. She had wanted him. She deserved better.
…
Jackson was strange, at first. Joel found it harder than he’d expected to settle in after he and Ellie returned from Salt Lake.
Ellie didn’t take to it easily, either, which made Joel feel both better and worse.
After the first week, the two of them made a deal that they’d eat most of their dinners at the dining hall for a while, if not the rest of their meals. He was pretty sure getting out of the house would be good for her, and even if he didn’t bother to apply the same standard to himself, he’d never say so where she could hear him.
Teenagers loved to call out hypocrisy, after all, and this particular teenager could spot it a mile away.
(He remembered the lessons he’d learned with Sarah, even if recalling them was like flexing a muscle he hadn’t used in 20 years. Getting back in shape wasn’t painless.)
About three weeks after their return, Maria broached the topic at dinner.
“So, Joel, I’ve been meaning to ask. We’ve got quite a few buildings around town that could use some TLC.”
Ellie made a thoughtful noise. “No one’s ever told me what that stands for,” she interrupted, mouth full of potatoes. “Tough… large…” she trailed off, frowning. “Contractors?”
Tommy laughed and Joel couldn’t help but smile.
Maria smiled at Ellie. “In this case, not far off. But it stands for tender loving care.”
Ellie hummed and turned to Joel with the look that he knew meant she was about to say something at his expense that Tommy would probably think was hilarious. “Joel, your hair could use some TLC.”
He sighed while Tommy laughed so hard he looked like he might fall off the bench. Maria chuckled and Ellie grinned.
“Alright, alright.” Joel resisted the urge to shove Tommy the rest of the way off the bench and kicked his brother under the table instead. “What kind of TLC are we talkin’, here,” he asked Maria.
“Some windows that are letting in air, stairs that are worn down. A couple leaks. A few houses that need to be made livable.” Maria started ticking off her fingers. “A roof or two that need a look at.”
“I’ve got a running list written down in the office,” Tommy said. “Come by tomorrow and we’ll look it over.”
“Tomorrow is Ellie’s first day of school,” Joel said, voice mild. He knew Tommy would know what he wasn’t saying — that he needed to be available and easy for her to find. Just in case.
“I’ll point out where the office is after dinner,” his brother said, looking at Ellie. “It’s closer to the school than your house.”
Ellie looked like she would rather crawl under the table than acknowledge she had any idea what they were talking about, so he changed the subject.
“Thought I’d be doin’ patrol,” he observed, and Maria nodded.
“You will. Everyone who can, does, but we have a rotation, so people can actually use their other skills, too. We need it, and that way everyone can contribute what they can.”
Ellie perked up, and Joel sighed before she even opened her mouth. She elbowed him. “Can I go on patrol?”
“No,” Joel, Tommy and Maria chorused together.
“Ugh,” she replied, rolling her eyes.
“Training starts at 16, then actual training runs. Can’t patrol until you’re 17 at the earliest.” Maria’s voice was even and Ellie sighed and nodded. “You’ll hear about it in school.”
After dinner Tommy walked home with them and pointed out the office. “School’s right down the road,” he pointed towards it and Ellie tensed. Joel nudged her with his shoulder. “I’ll meet you there after breakfast, Joel. Have a good first day, Ellie.” Tommy waved and headed towards his house.
When Joel opened their front door and waved Ellie inside, he eyed her tense shoulders and made a quick adjustment to his evening plans.
“Want to watch that movie? The space one.”
Ellie immediately perked up and grinned, leading the way into the living room, and he couldn’t help but smile.
She plopped down onto the couch in such a way that she sprawled over most of it. By the end of the movie, she was leaning on his shoulder and covered in a blanket, half asleep.
“Hey,” he murmured, not wanting to mess up the moment or the ease in her shoulders but knowing he needed to say it. “Come find me if you need me tomorrow, alright?”
Ellie didn’t say anything, but the way she buried her face in his shoulder told him enough.
“It’s ok if you need a break or can’t do the whole day. Just find me.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Ok?”
“Ok,” she mumbled.
“Ok,” he repeated. He nudged her into a standing position. “Time for bed, kiddo.”
She sighed dramatically and stomped off towards the stairs. When she got there, though, she stopped and looked back at him. “Hey Joel,” she said, voice low.
“Yeah?” He stood from the couch and watched as she worked her jaw over what she wanted to say.
“Thanks,” she said, quiet.
He smiled. “Anytime.”
…
Joel saw Ellie off to school in the morning and almost had an anxiety attack at the way it reminded him of sending Sarah to school Before.
In some ways, knowing what school had been like for Ellie with FEDRA in Boston made it worse, this time around.
He stood with Tommy by the office while she walked down the street towards the school. When she got there she turned and looked back. He could tell she rolled her eyes when she found them both looking at her. She waved, but even that felt somehow like she was being sarcastic.
They waved back and Tommy laughed as they watched Ellie go inside the school building. “Can’t believe you managed to find your clone running around Boston,” he mused, elbowing Joel in the ribs. “Did she act like that before you carted her across the country?”
“She comes by it honestly,” Joel said, and Tommy smirked. He couldn’t even pretend he didn’t know what his brother was talking about, and besides, the idea that Ellie was like him was filling his entire chest with warmth. Not that he was going to tell Tommy that.
“Well, your terrifying mini-me will be fine. Let me show you the plans.”
They spent the entire day poring over the various plans and maps Tommy had in the main office, and Joel started to understand the scale of what they were doing in Jackson. There were more residents than he realized, more people who needed a home or needed their home fixed.
“This is a lot, Tommy,” he observed some time in the afternoon. “We need more manpower.”
Tommy nodded. “We have it. I’ve been training some people, and we have a couple more that did some building before.”
Joel nodded. “And supplies. How are we there?”
Tommy smiled when Joel said “we” but didn’t acknowledge it otherwise, which he appreciated. “We’re doing alright. We have a policy to either collect or go back for anything useful when people are on patrol. Got a nice stash, almost like a little hardware store. Can use anything in there for repairs, but you have to barter like normal for personal projects.”
Joel hummed. “I’ll need to go take a look, then.”
“I’ll start prioritizin’,” Tommy said, already rearranging the papers on his desk. “Why don’t you start with that tomorrow – get a lay of the land, stop by Nuts n’ Bolts. See what we’ve got.”
Joel raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Nuts and bolts?”
Tommy laughed. “Ah, right. It’s not official but that’s what we’ve all taken to calling our little hardware store. We even call her Bolts sometimes, ‘stead of her name. The woman who organizes everything and handles the inventory. She should be there tomorrow, she can show you around. She knows it back to front.”
That night Joel told Ellie about his plans once she was done telling him every single thing that had happened to her at school that day.
“So you think it’ll be alright?” He asked her once she seemed to wind down.
She nodded, and he took a deep breath in relief when she looked away. “I might… I don’t fuckin’ know. It was a lot. But it seemed ok. Can I…” she trailed off, and he thought he knew what she wasn’t asking.
“Offer stands,” he said, nodding. “Come find me. I’ll be at the office again, but in the morning I might be over at Nuts ‘n Bolts.”
“What’s that?” She asked, looking confused.
“The local hardware store, apparently,” he explained, stretching his neck. He’d been sitting around a lot more lately and noticed he was getting stiff. “I need to see what supplies they got so we can start fixin’ stuff up.”
Ellie furrowed her brow. “Will you teach me?”
“Teach you what?”
She curled into a ball on the couch with her knees to her chest and propped her cheek on one knee, looking at him. He smiled. “To fix things,” she replied.
“Course I will,” he said, reaching out to push her lightly on the shoulder. She didn’t release her knees and dramatically fell over on the couch with an oof. He laughed and she grinned. “Anything you want to know.”
“Cool.”
…
After seeing Ellie off to school again, Joel took a walk around town.
He kept an eye out for the projects he’d gone over with Tommy the day before and spotted most of them. He could see why they were so eager to get going.
On his way back to the office he swung by Nuts ‘n Bolts. It was easy to spot, since someone had made a wooden sign with a nut and a bolt carved into it and hung it above the door.
It was an old storefront with actual rows of shelving and big windows. It even looked like a hardware store from the outside.
When he stepped inside and a little bell rang above his head, he was almost transported back 25 years. He took a deep breath.
“Morning,” a voice called out from the back. “I’ll be out in a second.”
“Take your time,” he called back. “Just lookin’ around.”
“Ah, you must be Joel,” the voice said, and it sounded like they were smiling. “Tommy told me you’d stop by. Alright, I’ll be out there in a bit. Holler if you need anything.”
He sighed, knowing that Tommy had probably told them something ridiculous, and started looking around.
It really did look like a hardware store. There were tools and supplies of all kinds, neatly organized on clean shelves. There were also signs of a meticulous inventory being kept, with numbers updated in pencil on little slips of paper in front of each item.
Joel was leaning over some bins of nails when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.
Ellie was walking up the street towards the store, jaw set, arms crossed. In a sudden overwhelming rush Joel felt worry rise and begin to choke him. He turned and speed walked towards the door.
“Gotta go,” he barely remembered to call out. “Another time.”
He heard some kind of acknowledgement, but it was faint and he was already mostly out the door.
…
When he stepped outside, he could see on Ellie’s face that she wasn’t ready to talk about it, whatever it might be. He reached out to squeeze her shoulder and said, “office or home?”
She looked thoughtful for a moment, despite her hunched shoulders and general fuck-off aura.
“Office.”
“Alright,” he agreed, and led the way. She trailed after him silently and he worked his jaw as he tried not to draw any similarities with her silence after Silver Lake. “I’ll show you what we’re working on.”
When they stepped into the office, Ellie’s shoulders relaxed just a bit, and he did not allow himself a deep breath in relief.
He’d learned the hard way on the road that she liked him talking but not asking questions, not when she was feeling like this, so he started showing her the list and the repairs. She eased into a chair and leaned in to look at the town map.
By the time he got to the smaller projects on the outskirts, she had her chin in her hand and was staring off into the middle distance.
When she interrupted him, he stopped talking immediately.
“It was math class,” she said, voice quiet. Joel tensed and then forced himself to relax his muscles. “The teacher here isn’t even a man, isn’t…” she trailed off and frowned, and he could see her wrestling with herself. “But I couldn’t… fucking why couldn’t I—“
Joel was up and around the desk before he even realized he was moving, then on his knees next to her chair. He reached up and ran his hand over her hair and relaxed, just a bit, when she leaned into it. “Ellie, you don’t—“
“I can’t fucking sit through a math class, Joel,” she said, sounding disgusted with herself. She leaned forward and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “It wasn’t the teacher or the school, it was just math, and I ran away like a weak little b—“
“Hey,” he said, voice low and soothing. He cupped the back of her head in his hand and started running the palm of his free hand up and down her back. “Running away does not make you weak. It’s ok to not be ok, baby girl. And look, Tommy told me something.” He squeezed the back of her neck with his hand. “Plenty of the kids here haven’t been able to do school right away. Plenty of ‘em have eased into it.” She started to pull back but he squeezed her again and she settled. “It’s hard… to go from the road to something like school. Turns out they have whole plans here for kids who need more time.”
“Plans?” She asked, finally raising her head and looking at him skeptically. “Like what?”
Joel settled onto one knee and leaned against the arm of her chair. “Like half days, and doin’ some work on their own at home. Or every other day.” He took one of her hands and squeezed it. “I bet we could work out a plan for you to do your math work at home, or here, even.” He waved his free hand around the office. “Seems like I’ll be spendin’ some time here, if you wanted to hang around.”
Ellie frowned as she mulled that over, staring down at their hands. She picked at the seam of her jeans with her free hand and Joel fought the urge to hold that one, too. “Other kids have really done this, too?”
He could hear what she was really asking — she didn’t want to be the only one with a problem. It was a pretty normal thing to worry about, of course, but it was also such a teenager thing to worry about that he couldn’t help but smile. “They have. Pretty sure no one would think you were weird.” He eyed her and took a gamble. “Not for that, anyway. Got plenty of other reasons, like the way you put sugar on grits,” he said, voice teasing.
She rolled her eyes at him and he smiled, fully. “You’re the weird one, Joel. No one likes grits, I don’t care what you say. And Tommy told me no one else actually likes those old movies you told me about, too.”
“Tommy ain’t got any taste,” he said, moving to stand. He stopped when her grip on his hand tightened. “I’ll talk to the teachers, alright? We’ll figure it out.”
She nodded, looking much calmer than she had when he’d found her outside. He pulled her into another hug.
“And we’re in this together, right? We made a deal.” She nodded again, and smiled, this time, the way she did every time he referenced their deal.
When he let go, she started asking him questions about the repairs that needed doing, and he heaved himself off the floor to answer.
They’d be alright.
…
Their deal, as they’d both come to call it, had been hashed out on their fifth night back in Jackson.
Joel hadn’t wanted to rush her, he’d known she was feeling like shit. But he knew he couldn’t let the two of them start up a pattern of never leaving the house. Not if Ellie was going to have an actual life there. And that’s what he wanted for her, more than anything – to have a life.
It turned out she wanted something similar for him.
“How about just dinners, then?” he’d offered, when she’d refused to go out for lunch again. “We can start tomorrow. See how it goes.”
She’d agreed, but their truce had been short lived when she’d discovered he also wanted her to go to school. Not yet, but apparently wanting her to go at all was the problem.
“Why the fuck do I need school,” she’d spat, and he’d thanked his years of experience with teenage anger and discontent for his even response.
“Life here seems alright, don’t it?” he’d asked, and eventually, frowning, she’d nodded. “Seems like we can give things a try, the way things are done here. See how it goes.”
Ellie had frowned down at her hands in her lap on the couch but eventually looked back up at him. “If I’m trying,” she’d emphasized, “you have to, too.”
“Ellie, I don’t need anything, just—“ just you, he’d been about to say. Just for you to be happy.
“No, Joel. You, too.” She’d been implacable. And at the end of the day, all he wanted was to give her what she wanted.
So they shook on it. She would try, and he would try, and they wouldn’t just give up because something sounded dumb or like a waste of time.
They’d try living this new life they’d found, and they’d do it together. And see how it went.
…
The teachers were more than happy to come up with a plan for Ellie, it turned out. So she spent her mornings at school, and her afternoons in the office with Joel or Tommy, doing work they assigned for her to take home.
Joel loved it.
He knew it wouldn’t last forever – eventually she’d feel fine with school, he knew, and he’d lose this time they had together – so he tried to savor it. Tried to find time to teach her about what they were doing, to let her be a part of it. Every time he gave her something to do, she stood a little taller, smiled a little wider.
It turned out actually trying was good for her. And seeing her settle in and start to smile more? That was good for him.
She’d taken to sitting at a little desk Tommy had found god-knows-where in the corner of the office and chattering about what she was doing, which suited him just fine. Sometimes she threw balled up pieces of old homework at him to catch his attention and he always sent them right back, bouncing them off her forehead. It never failed to make her laugh.
About a week and a half into their new arrangement she finished her work early and started rummaging around in office shelves, keeping up her stream of consciousness stories about her new classmates as she went.
“... and did you hear about that new group that came into town? From somewhere west? Turns out one of them is Miss Jenna’s soulmate.” Ellie fiddled with an old broken stapler she found on a shelf, frowning at it as she turned to look at him expectantly.
It took Joel a minute to catch up with what she was talking about, but his mind snagged on soulmate. He knew Miss Jenna was her history teacher. “What?”
Ellie nodded. “Miss Tasha is taking over for her for the rest of the week to give them time to, I don’t know.” Ellie shrugged expansively. “What do soulmates even do? Talk, or some shit.”
He raised his eyebrows at her and smiled. “Or some shit?”
She sighed and flopped the stapler open. “What is this thing?”
“A stapler,” he told her, “but I doubt we have any staples. Used to use ‘em to bind piles of paper together with little metal bits.”
“The staples?” She asked, peering at it and then at him. He nodded. “Weird. Anyway, I don’t fuckin’ know. FEDRA never talked about soulmates. We only heard stuff from the other kids.” She shrugged again. “You hear music, right? In your head?” She looked baffled by this idea.
“‘S what they say.” He stretched his shoulders, settling in to talk about this. “I’ve never heard it myself, but Tommy and Maria did. You could ask them what it was like.”
Ellie leaned forward on the desk, stapler forgotten by her hand. “They’re soulmates?!” She looked intrigued. “Why didn’t you say so?”
He shrugged.
She rolled her eyes at him and flopped into the chair in front of the desk. “Useless, Joel. You’re supposed to find out things and then tell them to me. Duh.” She grinned at him when he huffed a laugh. “I’ve never met soulmates before. Everyone’s music is different, right?”
He nodded again. “‘S what they say.”
She hummed and kicked her feet up on the desk. He reached across and nudged them back onto the floor with a ruler and she grumbled. When she was quiet for a long moment, he looked up, and found her frowning thoughtfully at the ceiling.
“Ellie?” he prompted, and she sighed.
“Did most people, Before,” she started, and then cleared her throat. “Did most people find them? Their soulmates?”
Joel thought about it for a moment before answering. “A lot of people did, sure,” he said, thinking about his parents for the first time in years. “Our parents were soulmates, mine and Tommy’s. And I knew a lot of people who found theirs.” He shrugged. “Not sure of the numbers. One of your teachers might know.”
“Did…” she trailed off, looking hesitant, and he figured she was about to ask about him. “You said you didn’t–”
He shook his head. “Never found ‘em.”
She hesitated again, and he figured she was about to ask about Tess. He poked at her memory in his mind and discovered it didn’t hurt quite as much as it used to.
Still hurt, though.
“Did Tess–”
He shook his head again. “Lost hers in the outbreak,” he said, and he could hear the gruffness in his own voice. He cleared his throat. “We weren’t… we weren’t.”
She nodded, looking thoughtful. “Wonder how many there are in Jackson.”
“You’ll have to ask Tommy,” he said, sighing, “Wouldn’t know.”
Ellie hummed again, but before she could ask him another question about it the man himself walked in the door.
“Howdy, folks,” Tommy said, drawing out his accent a bit more than normal. It made Ellie snicker, which was the point. “What are you troublemakers up to today?”
“You didn’t tell me you and Maria are soulmates!” Ellie accused, and Tommy looked slightly taken aback before he smiled.
“So sorry, ma’am, didn’t realize you wanted to know.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Duh. What was it like?”
Joel figured Tommy had brought this on himself and turned back to his work. After all, only the day before he’d told Ellie she could ask him “anything at all” and he’d answer.
“The music?” Tommy asked, propping himself against the desk. Ellie nodded. “Pretty weird. It’s not like when you have a song stuck in your head, it’s like actual music playing inside your head. Full sound.” He tilted his head from side to side. “And it’s a song I’d never heard, never in my life, which made it even weirder.”
Ellie looked captivated by this information. “And Maria heard the same thing?!”
Tommy nodded. “Yep.”
“And were you, like, instantly in love?” Ellie looked both intrigued and put off by the idea, which made Joel smile down at his maps.
“I was,” Tommy said with a wink, grinning. “Maria took a little convincing, but she’s smarter than me, anyway.”
Ellie seemed to mull that over and then nodded. “Did you hear about Miss Jenna?”
Joel looked up, interested to hear the answer on this one, and found Tommy nodding. “Yep. I was standing right next to them when it happened, too.”
Ellie’s mouth dropped open and Joel smiled to himself – she had a true love of gossip, his kid. “What was it like? Seeing it?”
“Now, don’t go repeatin’ this to all the other miscreants, alright?” Tommy fixed her with a look and Ellie nodded eagerly. “But it looked like it went the same for them as it did for me. Mena was getting down off her horse when she happened to look up and catch Jenna’s eye and, well. They both stared, Mena fell down the rest of the way and landed in the dirt. Jenna helped her up and said something like, ‘did you hear that?’” He smiled. “So there you go.”
Ellie squinted at him. “That’s it?”
Tommy laughed. “What else do you want?”
She shrugged, and Joel smiled down at his maps again. “Guess I thought it would be a bigger deal, or something.”
Tommy hummed. “Well, for them it was. We got enough soulmates here in town that I guess it’s not so novel anymore,” he said, thoughtfully.
“Really?” Ellie asked. “Like, a lot?”
He shrugged. “Not sure what’s a lot. But enough. Not the first time it’s happened at the gates, either.”
Ellie considered that for a minute. “Huh,” she said, sounding surprised. “Maybe mine is here, too. Oh, or Joel’s!” He looked up from his work to find her grinning at him. “Somebody who can fall in love with that grumpy face.”
He frowned at her and she frowned back. “Soulmates–”
Tommy cut him off, and Joel recognized the voice he used as his Joel impression. He sighed as Tommy said in a deep, growling voice, “soulmates? Why bother?” And then laughed.
Ellie looked between him and Joel. “Was that supposed to be Joel?”
“Duh,” Tommy said, smiling as he repeated the word back to her with the same intonation she’d used when he came in. “Heard him say it enough times.”
Joel sighed again.
Ellie frowned at him. “Do you not want to meet ‘em?”
Joel looked at her and fought down his initial response of obviously not and who would want me now? That wasn’t exactly the message about love and relationships he wanted to pass on to his kid, not when all he wanted was for her to be happy. Even if it wasn’t in the cards for him. “Figure they’re not around anymore,” he said, trying to shrug it off. “Been long enough.”
“You are old as dirt,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “But they could be here. You never know.”
Joel couldn’t help but notice that she seemed pretty excited about the whole thing, maybe because it was so different from what she knew in Boston with FEDRA. He sighed again. “Maybe,” he allowed. “But I ain’t lookin’. Got plenty of other things to worry about.” Like you, he didn’t say.
“Joel,” she said, frowning. “We have a deal.”
He eyed her and tried not to notice Tommy looking between them curiously out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t realize soulmates were part of the deal.”
“Of course they are!” She said, raising both of her arms and then letting her hands fall against her legs in exasperation. “Living, Joel. Life, or whatever.”
“Alright, alright, ok.” He worked his jaw for a moment, figuring out what he wanted to say. “If they’re here, somehow. I’ll tell you, alright? And I’ll…” he winced. “I’ll talk to them, I guess.”
Ellie grinned and Tommy looked shocked. “Deal,” she said, looking smug.
Tommy gave him a look that said, you really are wrapped around her little finger, you know, and Joel flipped him off the second Ellie’s back was turned.
…
The soulmates conversation was, thankfully, put to the side after that. Joel was certain Ellie asked Tommy about it more, apparently insatiable in her desire for more knowledge, but she didn’t talk to him about it again.
Considering that his opinion was still finding them now would be worse, despite the recent, more positive changes in his life, he figured that was a good thing.
So Joel settled into a daily rhythm of mornings at work and afternoons with Ellie and marveled at how much he liked this new life they’d found.
Ellie started running errands for them, too, and learning more about the work they were doing. It made him feel proud, which made Tommy tease him, which made him put Tommy in a headlock with a cheering Ellie off to the side.
It was nice. And Joel hadn’t had nice in decades, so it was difficult to trust. Difficult not to wonder when the other shoe was going to drop.
He figured if he kept his head down and did his work he’d stay out of trouble. Hopefully.
“Joel! I’m back," Ellie called, bursting into the office with a box in her arms. “Bolts had everything you asked for except, well.” She snickered. “Except the bolts. She said she’d check the storage area and get back to me.”
This wasn’t the first time Ellie had run over to get something from Nuts ‘n Bolts — she’d mostly taken over the job, in fact.
“She said you still haven’t been over there to introduce yourself. Not very social of you,” Ellie said, repeating what Maria had said a couple nights before, waggling a finger at him. He rolled his eyes and caught it, smiling when she squealed.
“I know, keep meaning to,” he said, releasing her but reaching out to mess with her hair as he stepped back. She swatted him away, laughing.
“Well you can’t have my job, slacker.” Tommy had taught her that word the week before and Ellie had been using it with delight ever since. “You’ll have to go over there on your own.”
He started going through the box and was impressed as always by how meticulously organized it was. Each different item was in its own little box or folded in paper with a tag noting how many were there in neat handwriting. It satisfied something inside of him, to see competence like this on display.
“Still checking her work?” Tommy said, stomping inside. “I told you she knows what she’s doing.”
Ellie nodded, agreeing.
“No, just looking,” Joel said, knowing they probably didn’t believe him. But he wasn’t.
He was more appreciating her work than anything else.
“Well, let’s get going then,” Tommy said, motioning towards the door. “Those stairs won’t fix themselves.”
…
About a month after Ellie started school, Joel did his first patrol.
It was time, but he was grateful for the extra time to settle in and prepare Ellie for him to leave and come back.
Well, for him to try to prepare her, anyway. And attempt to prepare himself, too.
“I want to come,” she said, stomping next to him towards the gate. She’d said the same thing every day since Maria had asked him three days ago.
“You know the rules,” he said, tone mild. “Not—“
“Not until I’m 17, ugh, I fucking know, Joel.” She frowned and crossed her arms. “What if something happens? What if—“
“Hey,” he said, stopping and kneeling next to her on the ground. She looked thrown, like she always did when he put himself below her like that. He hoped she’d stop being surprised by it eventually. “I’ll be with a group, and with Tommy, alright? I’ll be ok. We aren’t even going that far—“
“Just out to the dam, I know.” She finished for him. Her body was coiled as tight as a spring and he reached out to squeeze her shoulder.
He nodded. “Back by sundown. I’ll meet you right there.” He pointed to the tree by the gate. “Ok?”
She worked her jaw for a minute but nodded. “Ok. And you better not get hurt.”
He smiled and stood up, cupping her face gently. “I won’t. You don’t either, alright?”
She sighed, sounding so much like an exasperated teenager he had to hold in a grin. “I’m just going to hang out with Bolts and sort nails. Ooh, scary.” She waggled her fingers at him. He let his hand drop on top of her head and waggled it gently in response. She made a noise in protest and grabbed his hand.
“Alright. Be good for Bolts. I’ll see you later, ok?” She nodded and, quicker than lightning, ducked under his arm into a hug. He squeezed her and let his cheek rest on top of her head for a moment.
He wasn’t going to say so, but knowing she’d be safe with an adult she trusted while he was gone was the only thing letting him go at all.
“I’ll be right back, baby girl,” he murmured, and she squeezed him once more before letting go and watching him lead his horse to the gate. When he looked back after mounting up, she waved.
He waved back and ignored the feeling that he was leaving his heart behind with every step his horse took. He knew it was good for them to be separated for a bit, knew he couldn’t let her live in his pocket forever, even if in the moment all he wanted was to turn around and go home.
. . .
At dinner that night, Ellie sat much closer to him than usual. It comforted him, too, so he didn’t say anything. In between demands for stories about the (pretty boring, all things considered) patrol, he started to notice a pattern in her speech that he was pretty sure had been forming for a while, he just hadn’t noticed.
“Bolts said that Before, people used to put coins in machines and squish them, like, on purpose. And the machine would print a little design on them. That’s fucking wild! I thought money was important? Why would you squish it?”
“Bolts told me that Before people used to do something called glamping. Joel, did you ever go glamping? Why wouldn’t you just go normal camping? And why would you go camping on purpose at all? Didn’t you have a house?”
“When we were checking the storage area, Bolts found a box of staples, those little metal things you told me about! She let me staple some papers but then she said I had to stop because I was helping ‘a bit too enthusiastically and we only have so many staples, Ellie.’”
He knew he could trust her with Bolts, just based on the stories she told and what Tommy had said about her. But he’d never met her. Maybe it was time he made time to do that.
…
In the end, Joel didn’t make it over to Nuts ‘n Bolts for almost a week after he’d made up his mind to actually do it. The patrol had gone well, but Ellie had been more his shadow than ever afterwards, and he spent a lot of time reassuring her – and himself – that everything was fine.
Her teachers had suggested that she start attending the art class that happened in the afternoons at the school once a week on Tuesdays, and so Joel took advantage of her absence to go over and do Ellie’s usual pick up at the hardware shop.
As he walked up to the shop, he realized how strange it was that he’d been in town for so long and hadn’t actually been back there. When he stepped inside, he was again impressed with the meticulous organization and care.
He recognized the handwriting on all of the shelf labels, now, the same handwriting that would appear on the labels in each of the boxes Ellie picked up on her errands.
Must be Bolts’, he thought to himself as he ran his fingers over the words “washers, 4mm” in clear, tidy handwriting.
“Afternoon,” a voice called from the back. “‘S that you, Ellie?”
Joel called back a greeting. “She has art class on Tuesdays, now,” he explained, voice raised a bit to be heard as he continued exploring the shelves.
“Ooh, and how’s she feel about you taking over her job?” The voice was teasing, now, and it made him laugh.
“She warned me I better do it right and be polite,” he said, and he heard a laugh from the back. He turned another corner and found hooks of all shapes and sizes carefully organized and displayed along a shelf. “Said I had a reputation to uphold.”
“She’s right,” the voice called, and he could hear the laugh in it. “It’s an important mantle you’re taking on, you know. And you must be Joel.”
He was grinning at a shelf of caulk, he realized, and blinked. “That’s me. And you must be Bolts? Or should I call you–”
Another laugh interrupted him. “Bolts is fine! No one calls me anything but that around here.”
Joel was starting to feel like he was walking through a maze, looking for the corner to turn that would take him to the back, where the voice was coming from.
“I’ve heard all about you, you know,” Bolts called. “To hear Ellie tell it, there’s nothing you can’t do, you’re the tallest person alive, and you’re old as dirt.” He snorted. “Now, I know that’s not true from Tommy – maybe just old to a teenager, anyway – but I’ve been looking forward to seeing for myself.”
He couldn’t stop smiling. Walking through this maze of a hardware store was starting to feel like an out of body experience. He was pretty sure he was close, though, to figuring out where she was.
“I’ve heard quite a bit about you too, you know,” he said, and the warmth in his own voice startled him. “Ellie thinks the world of you.”
“She’s a special kid, Joel,” Bolts said, voice softer now, but a bit muffled.
“She is,” he agreed, and finally turned the corner to where he was pretty sure she was working. He was right – down at the end of the row, at a makeshift sales counter, there was a woman.
He couldn’t tell if she was shorter than him – she was leaning over a box with almost her entire torso inside of it.
She had a very nice ass, he couldn’t help but notice, and her jeans did nothing to hide it.
He blinked away from it as she started to rise, and his eyes trailed along her spine. He stepped forward, and she must have heard because she turned.
And then his eyes met hers.
In all the times he’d been told about soulmates, either no one had ever said, or he hadn’t been paying attention when they did, that the music that played inside your head was loud.
Or maybe it wasn’t that way for everyone. Maybe it was just loud for them.
He looked into her eyes and just like that, his mind was taken over by the most beautiful music he’d ever heard. Tommy had said bells but theirs wasn’t bells – it was strings. Almost like a symphony inside his mind, rising and falling and swelling together into a crescendo that took his breath away.
He couldn’t move, could barely breathe, staring into the eyes of the woman who was his soulmate.
The song started to fade, and Bolts took a single step towards him, face breaking open with some emotion he couldn’t name.
“Joel?” she said, one of her hands lifting towards him.
He blinked, and felt the space the music had left behind start to fill with panic.
He ran.
...
a/n: I know!! Joel, what are you doing?? find out next Tuesday in part 2! (and this fic has a happy ending, I promise)
Joel Miller x f!reader | 28k | 18+ | masterlist | coming soon!
summary: Joel Miller gave up on the idea of a soulmate at least 20 years and one apocalypse ago. But it turns out the universe hasn't given up on him quite yet.
a/n: hi. this is the [redacted] Joel fic I’ve been talking about — surprise, it’s soulmates! and it started as a prompt from @chaotic-mystery for her #WIRED4YOU challenge. I am very late, lol, sorry!! My song prompt was Still Falling for You by Ellie Goulding, and my immediate idea was a Joel soulmate AU, which then became a bit of a love letter to the life I wanted him and Ellie (and fam) to have in Jackson. probably as a response to season 2. It’s also a bit of an exploration of what it would mean to a man like Joel Miller to have to interact with the idea of fate against his will. I thought it would be about 2k words and it’s, um, not. 🤡 It's totally finished, see the posting schedule below — the next three Tuesdays. I hope you enjoy. Thank you to @katareyoudrilling for bouncing ideas for this around with me for weeks and also being the best beta. It is a way better fic because of you.
tags/warnings: soulmate AU, Jackson era after they get back from Salt Lake, is there a cure? you decide, Ellie and Joel family vibes, Joel being the best dad, flirting, fluff, angst, teasing, a bit of miscommunication but they figure it out, figuring out being family, smut later on (fingering, hand job, kissing, fondling, breasts mention, oral sex (f receiving), p-in-v sex, creampie (see below, she isn’t getting pregnant lol)), Joel can dance, panic attack (Joel)
about reader: at least 24-25 ish before the Outbreak so do with that age what you will (she finished college and had at least one job before, so in my mind she's at least 44-45, but imagine whatever you'd like), reader was an engineer in this and has a nickname everyone in town calls her, no physical description other than walking and a bit of dancing, at one point reader specifically wears jeans, reader sits in Joel’s lap at one point, Maria is reader’s best friend, reader had a brother
Part 1 - coming Tuesday, 5/27 (7.3k)
Part 2 - coming Tuesday, 6/3 (10k)
Part 3 - coming Tuesday, 6/10 (10.6k)
comment to be tagged or follow @burntheedges-updates!
Din Djarin x f!reader | 11.4k | 18+ | main masterlist | ao3
summary: After your first few weeks as Nevarro's new schoolteacher, there was only one student's parent that you hadn't yet met. When you decided to send Grogu's dad a message, though, you never would have expected where it led.
a/n: Din's back! This is my fic for @penvisions' give a little love challenge. My prompt was mistaken identity. 👀 Once I figured out where I wanted to take that, this was pretty fun to write! Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta and helping me whip this one into shape. Also, I did attempt to research how messaging would work in Star Wars, got conflicting results, and then gave up and decided I can do what I want. So consider this almost canon-aligned as far as messaging goes. lol
tags/warnings: epistolary, fluff, space texting, reader is an elementary-ish teacher with no physical description, a lot of school-talk, elementary school student shenanigans, flirting, teasing, pet names (cyar'ika/sweetheart, mesh'la/beautiful), mistaken identity, misunderstandings, Star Wars cursing (kriff, kark, dank farrik), a bit of ogling, smut (kissing, fondling, grinding, fingering (f!receiving), p-in-v sex, creampie)
...
You haven’t been on Nevarro long, but you’ve learned a lot about your new students already. When Karga recruited you, all the way from the Mid Rim, he’d told you it was a small but growing city with a small but growing school. They finally had enough students to need to split them up into multiple classrooms, and that was where you came in. You’d taken the job because you liked the idea of helping to build something, and because you were ready for something new.
You were taking over the room with younger children, which was your preference. And so far they’d been wonderful to work with – they were all so excited by new things, so happy to learn. Each day was a joy as you watched them grow.
As you got to know the kids, you also got to know the parents. Teaching the youngest children made you more well-known around town, and it had been easier to settle in than you expected. There was Diima, who was learning how to braid her own hair and had been teaching some of the other kids – her moms had invited you over for dinner and you thought you might end up being friends. Oora, the young Twi’lek who loved spaceships of all kinds – his father ran the food stall in the market that always had the best fruit. And Tamar and Ilana, the twins, who very intentionally never dressed alike – their parents ran the med clinic.
And then there was Grogu, your smallest student. You’d never met his dad, though you knew of him from Karga and Cara. But so far you’d only learned that Grogu missed him and that he was off planet a lot. He was never there to pick up Grogu, at least not in the few weeks you’d been on Nevarro so far. It was always Cara or IG-11, or a few times even Karga himself.
As you waved goodbye to the last of the kids for the day – Kiran, a young Mirialan whose mother was a mechanic at the shipyard – you collapsed into your desk chair with a sigh. Cara had come by to pick up Grogu again, but you’d been hoping to finally meet his elusive father. The kids would have a show at the end of the term to sing some songs and show off what they’d been learning. So far you’d been able to invite all of the parents personally when they came to pick the kids up. You sighed again and tapped your data pad – you’d just have to send him a message.
You’d sent him a message only once before, when you first started, just to introduce yourself. You hadn’t gotten a message back.
You stared down at the pad for a moment, biting your lip. Just be straightforward, to the point. You nodded and scrolled down to the contact for Grogu-parent. You saved all of your students’ parents’ contact info that way, though you added their names to the end if you knew them.
you:
Hello! This is Grogu’s teacher, I sent you a message a couple of weeks ago when I started. I just wanted to invite you to our end of term show and to let you know that his schedule will be changing a bit, as we’ll be adding a rehearsal once a week. His class will be singing some songs and showing off what they have learned this term. They’re all very excited about it!
You sent another message with the date and time of the show and wondered how you should sign off.
you:
I will also let Cara and IG know. Please let me know if you have any questions and if you’ll be able to attend. Thank you!
Once the message was sent, you leaned back in your chair, hoping you’d hear back from him this time.
You were startled when your pad chimed before you’d even settled into your chair.
Grogu-parent:
Hello. Thank you. I will be there.
You grinned. A response! And so quickly! You needed to say something back, to make it clear this was a way he could get in contact with you if needed.
you:
Great! I know that will make Grogu very happy. He has really enjoyed learning to follow along to the notes of the songs and he is becoming a very enthusiastic assistant on the drums.
There was a pause, and you wondered if you had said too much, or if he’d gone quiet again. But then your pad chimed.
Grogu-parent:
Something he can hit that makes noise? Sounds perfect for him.
You laughed. If someone had told you that morning that you’d actually talk to Grogu’s elusive dad and that he would make you laugh, you weren’t sure you’d have believed them.
Grogu-parent:
Thank you for telling me. I know I miss a lot when I’m off planet.
Suddenly, you realized you hadn’t thought of it that way and wanted to kick yourself. Of course his dad would be sad to miss hearing about what Grogu did in school, and all the little ways he was growing and learning. Your heart squeezed in sympathy.
you:
Would you like me to send you more updates? I would be happy to do it. I usually share them with parents at the end of the day. I’m sorry I didn’t think to send them to you this way instead.
Grogu-parent:
That’s alright. I know I never replied to your message, I didn’t get it until days later. Yes, please send me updates. I might not be able to reply right away but I will be happy to get them.
You tilted your head as you read his message, wondering what sort of work he was doing.
you:
Oh that’s fine! I’ll start sending you updates, but no pressure to respond to them. I understand you must be busy.
Grogu-parent:
I’ll respond when I can. Thank you again.
You smiled as you set your pad down and stood from your desk. Finally, you thought. You’d made contact with Grogu’s dad! You walked out of the schoolhouse with a spring in your step.
As you made your way to the market to pick up something for dinner, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. You were happy you’d moved to Nevarro, you realized – you liked the people and the growing feeling of community that you had been welcomed to join almost immediately. There were beings of all kinds in the little city, from all over the galaxy – you’d met a fellow newcomer just the day before, a friend of Cara’s from the resistance who was good with plants. You’d met Carm, a Bothan, who had a knack for fixing droids. You were pretty sure you’d even spotted a Mando, once or twice, and Diima’s mom had told you about the family that had just moved in next door to them and was planning to open a restaurant.
It was a nice place to live. You were happy you’d decided to take the offer.
…
The next day, when Cara picked up Grogu, you let her know that you’d also invited his dad to the show. Grogu chirped and smiled at you, and you smiled back.
“That’s right, bud, your dad is coming!”
Cara grinned. “See? I told you he would, squirt.” Grogu made a noise like a cheer and waved his little arms and you both laughed. “See you tomorrow, teach!” Cara tossed Grogu lightly in the air as she turned and he squealed.
You smiled, shaking your head at their antics as you made your way back to your desk. You knew just what you wanted to tell his dad.
you:
Today Grogu kept working really hard on trying to write his name! The Aurebesh characters are still new and tricky for them, but he honestly does pretty well when we can draw them in the sand with his claws. He also shared his snack with his friend Oora, which was sweet.
You didn’t get an answer right away, and you tried not to be disappointed. It had been nice to talk to him the day before, but you knew he was busy with work, whatever work he did. You packed up your bag and hefted it onto your shoulder.
When your pad chimed, you dropped it unceremoniously back onto your chair.
Grogu-parent:
Are you sure you’re talking about my kid? He’s not usually one to share food.
You laughed, but before you could reply your pad chimed again.
Grogu-parent:
That’s great about his name. I know he knows so much, even though he seems so little.
You nodded as you typed your response.
you:
He does! I can tell. Sometimes he gets a little bit frustrated when he can’t communicate the way he wants. But the kids are all great with each other and they really listen to him, even without words.
Grogu-parent:
I’m glad to hear it. I worried he would be too little for the class, even though technically he’s older than I am.
You laughed and tucked away that little tidbit of information.
you:
I know he’s technically the oldest, but he’s also not the youngest, in terms of development. They’re a good group and they get along well.
Grogu-parent:
He is an old baby, isn’t he? Thank you. Again.
You laughed and found yourself smiling again as you walked to the market. You wished you knew his name, but it felt awkward at this point to ask. You supposed he’d have to stay “Grogu-parent” in your pad. For now.
…
After that, you fell into a bit of a rhythm.
He wasn’t always able to reply immediately – sometimes you came in to work in the morning to find his response waiting for you, and you didn’t let yourself wait for more than a few minutes at the end of the day.
But he always replied.
You found him easy to talk to, with a clear sense of humor and love for his son that you could feel through the messages. It infused every word he sent you, and it made you smile softly whenever you thought about it. You still felt bad that you hadn’t thought of this arrangement earlier. But you tried to make up for it with more details now.
…
you:
Grogu led the other kids in a game today at recess. It seemed to be a mixture of tag and catch, and I’m not sure if he made it up, but they had fun. And I was proud of him for teaching them without words!
Grogu-parent:
Sounds like the game he learned from a friend’s kid on Sorgan. I’ve seen him play it before, but I’ve never figured out the rules. I’m not convinced they don’t make them up each time they play it.
…
you:
Grogu drew you a picture today! From what I could tell it’s your house, he was very proud of it.
Grogu-parent:
I can’t wait to see it. He has a collection growing at home on the walls of his room.
…
you:
Today we learned about hyperspace, and Grogu got really excited when I showed some footage of what it looks like to travel in hyperspace from the cockpit. He’s not the only kid who’s been in space, of course, and they all had a lot of fun sharing about their experiences. He drew us a picture of what I think is your ship, and the other kids loved it.
Grogu-parent:
He does love hyperspace. I think it’s the colors. That kid loves to fly, even to go upside down. Never seen someone treat an evasive maneuver like a thrill ride like that.
you:
Evasive maneuvers, huh? Sounds intense!
Grogu-parent:
It’s been a while, but when he first came to me we had to run from some people who were looking for him. And me. Took us around the galaxy for a bit.
You remembered the school’s security measures that Karga and Cara had told you about and furrowed your brow.
you:
Is everything ok now? Is he in any danger? Are you?
Grogu-parent:
We took care of it. But that’s why we have the alerts in place at the school. Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.
you:
I’m not worried about me! But Grogu and the rest of the kids! I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt them.
You could believe it, though. You just didn’t want to.
you:
I mean, I know the Galaxy can be like that. I just wish it wasn’t.
Grogu-parent:
I know what you mean. I wish that, too.
You didn’t realize until later while you were eating dinner that he’d never answered your question about his own safety, and it made you worry. You didn’t even know what his job was, you realized, and felt the worry settle in your chest.
…
you:
Grogu made you another picture but this time he refused to use any color except blue. I’m not sure what it is, but he was very insistent about it! Cara took it home for you.
Grogu-parent:
I’m not surprised, he loves blue things. I can’t wait to see it.
…
you:
Today Oora gave a demonstration of a traditional dance he learned from his family, and surprised us all – apparently Grogu had been helping him practice and knew the dance, too! It was very sweet of him to dance with Oora when he got nervous.
Grogu-parent:
He does love music, and he really loves helping his friends. He feels everything so strongly.
Grogu-parent:
I’ll tell him, too, but if you remember tomorrow, please tell him I’m proud of him.
…
For once, you had evening plans.
You hurried home at the end of the week to drop your bag and then to meet Cara and Diima’s moms at the cantina. When they’d invited you, you’d internally done a victory dance – you’d made friends!! – but externally, you’d kept your cool. Mostly.
Cara was the only one there when you arrived, and you settled in beside her in the booth.
“Teach!” She greeted you with a grin. “Whatcha drinkin’? How are the kids?”
You gave her your order and soon you had a drink, too. You filled her in on what your charges had been up to that week, getting a few laughs at their antics. “What about you, constable? Anything new?”
“Well, we were going to take care of a reptavian problem over towards the east end of the lava flats, but Mando had to go off planet again. We’ll wait for him to get back, could use his firepower.”
You tilted your head. You figured she was talking about the shiny Mando you’d seen around the market sometimes. “Who–”
But before you could ask, Neela and Aminet arrived, and by the end of the night you forgot you’d even had a question at all.
…
you:
Grogu got excited when we learned about banthas and blurrgs today! We’re focusing on the letter Besh if you couldn’t tell. Then he drew a blurrg, it was honestly a pretty great likeness.
Grogu-parent:
He’s met a few before, so he knows them pretty well.
you:
Wow! When did Grogu meet a blurrg?
Grogu-parent:
When I first met him, we had a friend who kept them. He’s even ridden one before.
you:
You know, his picture from today makes a lot more sense now. He drew a little Grogu on top of the blurrg.
Grogu-parent:
He really likes blurrgs. They seem to like him too, which is good. Otherwise I’d be afraid they were going to eat him.
you:
That IS good because they definitely would.
…
At some point, your messages with Grogu’s dad became less focused on Grogu. You still always made sure to send an update, of course, but you were starting to get to know him, too.
You were trying not to look too hard at how that was making you feel.
You’ve never even seen this man.
You were starting to realize that that might not matter to you.
…
you:
Today we went on a little field trip to the market and Grogu was very well behaved!
Grogu-parent:
Are you sure you’re talking about my kid? He didn’t try to eat every blue treat in sight?
you:
Well, no, he did do that. But then we stopped and talked to the man who makes those blue cookies he likes – his name is Tam – and he showed Grogu how carefully he has to make each one. The way Grogu held the one Tam gave him made me think he was in awe. Anyway after that he was very well-behaved
Grogu-parent:
He does love to learn new things. I bet he loved watching the cookies get made.
you:
He really did! And me, too. I had no idea they were so finicky
Grogu-parent:
Not a baker?
you:
I can make bread ok, I guess. Tam’s got real skill.
Grogu-parent:
I can only make a few dishes but I’m trying to learn more for Grogu.
you:
I bet he loves that! Is it hard to cook on your ship?
Grogu-parent:
I don’t really, no space for it. I mostly rely on rations or quick things until I’m home.
you:
Ok that sounds not so great, so PLEASE promise me you’ll try the new restaurant when you get back. It’s really good and you’ll deserve it after all those rations!
Grogu-parent:
I will.
You tamped down the part of yourself that wondered if you could bring some long-lasting food that Grogu could give to his dad for his next trip. That was probably too much for a person you’d never even met. Right?
…
you:
The kids have been taking turns telling stories about their families, and Grogu told us one in pictures today. It seemed to involve a lot of snow and spiders? Ice spiders? Are those real?
Grogu-parent:
Of course he picked that story.
Grogu-parent:
Yes, it was when we were on the run, like I told you before. My ship was damaged and we had to do an emergency landing on an ice planet.
Grogu-parent:
The local fauna did not appreciate Grogu’s approach to exploring the area and chased us back to the ship.
you:
Holy kriff! We’re they actually as big as a house, or was that his creative license taking over the drawing?
Grogu-parent:
Most of them were small. One of them wasn’t.
you:
That sounds absolutely terrifying
you:
I’m so glad you’re both ok!! How did you get away?
Grogu-parent:
A couple of the New Republic guys from Adelphi had followed us and helped out. But we had to limp over to Trask to get the ship fixed.
you:
You know, that is basically what Grogu drew for us, I think I just couldn’t believe it was all true.
you:
Ok my mind is totally blown. Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?
Grogu-parent:
More than I would like, yes.
…
you:
Grogu did really well with addition today! We’re learning about adding and subtracting with piles of tokens. He even helped his friend Kiran with a tricky one!
Grogu-parent:
He’s so smart, I’m glad he’s getting to show it.
you:
He really is! And he loves to learn.
Grogu-parent:
I’m glad he’s so good at making friends. I was worried about him. I don’t set the best example.
you:
What do you mean? You have so many friends
Grogu-parent:
I can’t tell if you’re joking.
you:
Not joking! There’s Cara, and Karga, and IG.
Grogu-parent:
3? Is that a lot? I don’t think I’m very good at being friendly.
You hesitated, but it did feel right to call him a friend, at this point.
you:
Well, you’ve also mentioned knowing people on at least two other planets. And you’re friendly with me! That is, if you don’t mind being friends with someone who sometimes forgets to switch out of “talking to kids” voice when talking to adults. And who is usually partially covered in arts and crafts.
Grogu-parent:
I don’t mind. I’d like to be your friend.
You grinned and did not do a little victory dance. Definitely not.
you:
me too!
That one had made you float home.
…
you:
Wait, you really calculate all your jumps yourself?
you:
That’s so impressive! Does it take a long time?
Grogu-parent:
It did when I first started, but I’ve done it so many times it’s not so bad now.
you:
Grogu must get his math skills from you.
Grogu-parent:
So much happened in his life before I found him. Most of the time I feel like I’m learning things from him, and not the other way around.
You felt a little squeeze around your heart at the thought of Grogu without this man, without his dad. You were glad they’d found each other.
you:
That’s adorable, but you should know he shows us things that you taught him all the time.
Grogu-parent:
Uh oh. Like what?
you:
Today he showed us how to tie a cape around your neck so it will stay on. It made me wonder – do you wear a cape?
There was a pause that made you wonder if you shouldn’t have asked. Your message screen moved up as if a new message was about to come in, but then nothing did for another minute.
Grogu-parent:
I do. Sometimes.
You laughed, a bit wonderingly. Who is this man?
…
you:
Today some of the students shared stories or keepsakes from their homeworld or families – this isn’t a mandatory activity, since I know it can be complicated for some. Grogu drew us a picture of IG-11, I think. But he got really excited when Tamar mentioned that the twins have family on Tatooine, of all places.
Grogu-parent:
He’s been there, so that was probably it. I guess I do have another friend there, too. Maybe two.
you:
Ok, I’m starting to think you really undersold your ability to make friends
Grogu-parent:
I wasn’t lying when I said I’m not good at being friendly.
you:
You’re friendly with me! And how else did you get all these friends, then?
Grogu-parent:
I ask myself that all the time.
Grogu-parent:
But it’s easy to be friendly with you.
You blinked and felt your face heat up, suddenly glad you were alone in your classroom.
…
you:
Today in rehearsal Grogu showed us that he memorized his part for the show! It was very cute, I’m sure he’ll do it at home for you.
Grogu-parent:
Oh I’ve seen it. He’s been working hard on it.
you:
Of course he has! I could tell
Grogu-parent:
I’ll be on planet next week, maybe I could watch a rehearsal? If that’s alright. I don’t want to be in the way.
You grinned at your pad, but you also felt suddenly nervous. Were you ready to actually meet him? You didn’t even know his name.
you:
Of course! No, you won’t be in the way, we have plenty of space. It will be so nice to finally meet you!
Grogu-parent:
Ok, good. Yes, it will be.
…
On the day of the rehearsal you walked into the schoolhouse buzzing with nerves and excitement.
You were going to meet him. Grogu’s dad, whose name you still didn’t know, somehow, but whose kind, funny, possibly-edging-towards-flirty messages were starting to take over your thoughts. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you couldn’t help it.
You were going to meet him.
You managed to tamp down your excitement as your class arrived and took up all of your attention, but it never quite left your mind. By the time rehearsal rolled around after lunch, the nerves were back.
With 10 minutes to go, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the door what felt like every 5 seconds. Diima’s mom Aminet arrived, and then the twins’ parents. You knew Kiran’s mom was going to try to get away from the shipyard, too.
The door opened again, and you turned to see her slipping inside and smiled. When you looked past her, you were startled to see the Mandalorian you’d seen around town standing in the street, about 15 feet from the school and framed by the door to your classroom.
He was tall, with very shiny armor and very broad shoulders. He was also covered in a slightly intimidating amount of weaponry, though you knew he was Cara’s friend and so you weren’t actually that scared. For a moment you simply stared at him, and even though his face was covered, you had a feeling he was staring back.
Curious, you took a step towards the open doorway, but that seemed to shock him into action. He took a corresponding step back, looked around, and then turned and walked away.
You poked your head out of the door and watched as he turned a corner, heading towards the market.
Weird.
You heard the kids start to make more noise behind you and turned, realizing it was time to begin.
…
Grogu’s dad never did show, but you tried not to let it get you down. At least, not until after the kids had left.
When Cara came to pick up Grogu, she smiled ruefully and shrugged. “I know, he was supposed to come. Sent me a message asking me to swing by, something came up.”
You sighed and shrugged back. “That’s alright. I know he’s busy.”
Your pad stayed stubbornly silent, and you left it at the school to discourage yourself from obsessively checking it all night long.
What happened?
…
Yawning, you dropped into your desk chair the next morning with a sigh. You hadn’t slept well, too worked up over what had – and hadn’t – happened the day before.
But your heart leapt into your throat when you saw you had a message waiting.
Grogu-parent:
I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it. I had to go off planet again, and it was pretty last minute.
Grogu-parent:
I already apologized to Grogu but I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet. I was looking forward to it.
From the timestamps you could see that he’d sent the messages while you were at home, trying to sleep. You bit your lip, wondering what to say back. It helped that he apologized but you still felt disappointed.
you:
That’s ok. I know you’re busy! I would have liked to meet. Maybe next time?
Grogu-parent:
I shouldn’t be too busy for this. Next time, yes.
you:
Deal. I’m counting on you, friend
There was a long pause that made you bite your lip. Was that too much? You started to put the pad down, sighing.
But then another message appeared.
Grogu-parent:
Since we’re friends, you should call me Din.
You froze. Din?
His name.
You started to grin.
you:
I see you, trying to make me forget about missing you yesterday by telling me your name today!
As soon as you send the message you hesitate, wondering if that was too much. But he told me his name! This has to be flirting. We’re flirting. Right?
Grogu-parent:
Missing me?
Kark. Of course he noticed that. Before you could even feel the heat reach your face he sent another message.
Grogu-parent:
I really wanted to be there.
you:
I’m just teasing you, Din. Thank you for telling me
You grinned and changed his contact name.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I missed meeting you, too
…
After Din told you his name, it seemed like your conversations just… flowed. You were opening up to each other in ways you hadn’t quite been able to before and it was making you feel giddy.
On top of that, you were pretty sure he was flirting with you. At least, you hoped so. You couldn’t stop turning the question over in your mind.
It’s not like you could ask anyone. You hadn’t told anyone you were having actual conversations with this man you’d never met – all Cara knew was that you sent him updates.
These weren’t exactly updates.
you:
Anyway, Grogu loved it. Painting with feet is always a popular activity but he was very enthusiastic
Grogu-parent-Din:
That doesn’t surprise me at all. He loves making a mess.
You laughed.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Is this one of those days when you’re covered in arts and crafts?
You blinked. He remembered that? And he was thinking about that? Was he thinking about what you looked like? You hesitated, and then typed your response.
you:
Oh definitely. I’m wearing more paint than clothes at this point.
Kriffing hell. Why did I just say that? You stared down at your pad, incredulous. That had to be too much. You definitely shouldn’t be flirting with a parent like that. And you hadn’t even meant to flirt! You started to type again, to apologize, but he beat you to it.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Sounds like quite a sight.
you:
See, I warned you, being friends with me means being friends with someone who can’t stop kids from covering her in paint.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Never said it would be a bad sight.
You felt a tingle run up your spine. Did he–
Grogu-parent-Din:
You’re not afraid of a mess. Neither am I.
Grogu-parent-Din:
You’re a good teacher.
Kriff, you wished you knew what this man looked like. You said goodbye and stood up to leave, you should not be having thoughts like this in your classroom.
Not afraid of a mess, he’d said.
Kriff.
…
Din kept flirting with you. It had to be flirting, you’d decided. (And you were definitely flirting.) But neither of you had addressed it directly.
You spent your days with the kids, and about half an hour every afternoon flirting with Grogu’s dad. And then the rest of your evening thinking about it.
you:
Grogu drew us a picture of a sort of humanoid-looking figure hanging off the side of a Jawa sandcrawler. It was pretty small in comparison with the sandcrawler, but was that you?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Unfortunately, yes.
you:
How did you end up hanging off the side of a sandcrawler??
Grogu-parent-Din:
The Jawas took apart my ship, stole the parts. I was trying to get them back.
you:
Well I assume you did, since you still have a ship
you:
How did you get them back? Dare I ask?
Grogu-parent-Din:
That’s a long one, but it involved me getting something they wanted from a mudhorn.
you:
A mudhorn?? An actual mudhorn
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ll tell you the whole story sometime. But yeah, I got the parts back. Got a whole new ship now, though, that one got blown up later.
You realized you were staring down at your pad, mouth dropped open, frozen.
you:
… Din.
you:
Blown up???
Grogu-parent-Din:
You know, when I list it all out like this, it sounds kind of ridiculous.
you:
Kind of?
you:
Does this kind of thing still happen to you?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I won’t lie, sometimes it does. But not nearly as often.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I promise, I’m careful. Much more these days.
you:
You swear?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I do.
you:
Alright.
As you set down your pad, you thought about what you knew about Din. He wore a cape, did evasive maneuvers in his ship, had friends on multiple planets, and sometimes hung off the side of sandcrawlers and fought mudhorns. Someday you’d find out what his job was, and this would all make more sense.
You hoped.
…
At some point after he told you his name, you started taking your pad home.
It made sense, right? It would be rude to cut off the conversation because you had to go home, of all things.
And so like most nights, you found yourself sitting on your bed, smiling down at your pad, talking to Din for what you refused to recognize was over an hour at this point.
Grogu-parent-Din:
You know, I didn’t realize how much calmer my life is now until I started telling you these stories.
you:
I’m just glad your life IS calmer now! Din, sometimes you tell me things and I don’t know how you survived.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Me too. That it’s calmer now, I mean. For Grogu, of course, but I get a lot more sleep these days.
you:
I know you’re busy, but maybe you could stick around for a bit longer next time. Relax a bit? I think you need it
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’m not very good at relaxing.
you:
Maybe you just need someone to show you how it’s done
You were flirting again. You bit your lip.
Grogu-parent-Din:
You volunteering?
You grinned. He was flirting back.
you:
I might be. What do you say?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I say I’d like that.
you:
Yeah?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Yeah, cyar’ika. Show me how to relax.
You let out a noise that you were glad no one was around to hear.
you:
What’s that mean?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ll tell you when we’re relaxing.
you:
Promise?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Promise.
…
With only a couple of weeks to go before the show, you were starting to feel the pressure, both for the kids and because you were finally going to meet Din.
He would have to come to the show, right? He said he would. You were pretty sure your distraction was noticeable – Cara had almost called you out on it multiple times. She’d taken to squinting at you and smirking knowingly when she caught you checking your pad.
A few nights after the promise to let you show him how to relax – which you couldn’t let yourself dwell on, not if you wanted to get anything done – he told you about his ship getting blown up.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ve got a new one, of course, but I do miss that ship.
you:
Of course you do! How long did you have it?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Almost 15 years.
Your jaw dropped. He’d lost his home of 15 years?
you:
Din, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.
There was a long pause that made you worry you’d somehow overstepped. You started to type, to backtrack, when his response appeared.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Thank you.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I think people expected me to just get a new ship, but for a while I didn’t want to.
you:
Of course not!
you:
ugh, who said that? Let me talk to them
Grogu-parent-Din:
It’s ok, cyar’ika. No need.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Of course you can make me smile when I’m thinking about this.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tucked yourself into a ball around your pad on your bed. He smiled.
you:
I made you smile?
Grogu-parent-Din:
You always make me smile.
Your own smile felt so big it was taking over your face.
you:
You make me smile too, you know. Even when we’re not talking, you make me smile
Grogu-parent-Din:
Yeah? How do I manage that?
you:
I may or may not think about you, you know… sometimes.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I think about you all the time.
You felt your entire body get hot and tingly and gasped.
you:
Din!
Grogu-parent-Din:
I do. Lately you’re all I want to think about.
you:
Din. Are you flirting with me?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ve been flirting with you, cyar’ika. Nice of you to finally notice.
You wanted to hide your face, even though you were the only person in your apartment. You settled for kicking your feet like a weirdo.
you:
I hoped you were. I’ve been flirting too, you know
Grogu-parent-Din:
Oh I know.
you:
Din!
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you last time. I wish I had.
you:
Well, the show is next week! so soon! We can actually meet
you:
It’s not your fault you had to work.
There was another long pause, and you furrowed your brow, but it couldn’t quite wipe the smile off your face.
Grogu-parent-Din:
So I might have lied about that.
you:
About what?
You frowned down at the pad.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I didn’t have to go off planet suddenly.
you:
What?? Din what are you talking about
You didn’t like the swooping sensation in your stomach. So then why had he left?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I did come by the school that day, but I couldn’t go in.
you:
Why not??
Grogu-parent-Din:
I saw you, and I know, I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair that I’ve seen you. But I saw you, and you were smiling at someone, and you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, cyar’ika.
Your mouth dropped open. What?
Grogu-parent-Din: I froze. I got tongue-tied, I guess. All of a sudden I just knew, but I wasn’t prepared. And then I ran like a coward. I’m sorry.
You handled your pad in shaking hands, making a few more typos than you usually did.
you:
Din, are you tellign me that you thought I was so beautiful you ran awaY?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Basically, yes. I know, I know, Cara already read me the riot act. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t run next week.
you:
You better not!! I can’t believe you’ve seen me and I’ve never seen you.
He ran away because you were too beautiful? What the kark? This sort of thing did not happen to you.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I promise I will be there next week and I won’t run away.
you:
Good.
you:
No one’s ever thought I was so beautiful they RAN before, you know
Grogu-parent-Din:
That you know of.
you:
You know, that’s a good point
…
By the day of the show, you were a wreck.
You and Din talked every night, and it was wonderful, but it felt like a build up to something that was going to change your life. You didn’t want to put that much pressure on a simple meeting, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
You liked him so, so much.
And on top of that, the kids were excited and nervous and bouncing off the walls. Literally, in some cases. You wanted things to go well for them, and you wanted things to go well for you.
It was a lot.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Can I come by early? Or should I wait until after?
you:
PLEASE come early. I can’t wait through the whole show to meet you, I’ll be too nervous! The kids are going home for a couple of hours after school, and then they have to be back for the show
Grogu-parent-Din:
Cara is taking Grogu with Oora for a final practice together and I said I’d meet her there. So I can come as early as you’d like. You tell me when to be there and I will.
Your hands were shaking again.
you:
How about half an hour before the kids are due back? Gives me time to have emotions but not to get TOO distracted.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Am I going to give you emotions, cyar’ika?
you:
You know you are, Din.
…
Somehow, the kids had been gone for an hour and you’d managed to finish setting everything up in the small auditorium. The little stage was ready and the decorations were perfect.
And now all you had to do was wait for Din.
It was nerve-wracking. You were doing your best not to watch the clock, but with fifteen minutes to go before he was supposed to arrive, you found yourself pacing around your classroom, talking to yourself.
You were debating running to the corner and back just to work out some energy when someone cleared their throat behind you.
You whirled, heart in your throat, and were surprised to find the Mandalorian you’d seen around town standing in the doorway of your classroom.
“Oh! Hello, Mando.” You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to twist your hands together. “Can I help you with something?”
He didn’t answer right away. He looked around the room, and you took a moment to study him. His armor was very shiny, and it fit him very well. He was a very broad man, you realized. And he had fewer weapons on him than the last time you saw him, though of course he still had some.
He took a step inside and his cape swayed behind him.
“You know,” he said, and his voice was deep and warm. You thought he might be smiling, but wondered how you could tell. “I know it’s not realistic, but I really did picture you more covered in paint.”
You froze and felt a tingling sensation flow from your feet to your head, making you suddenly lightheaded. It can’t be.
“...Din?” you breathed, stunned. Your eyes traveled over the length of him again, and then suddenly caught on the cape.
He stepped forward again and then he was right in front of you. You couldn’t stop gaping at him.
“Hi, cyar’ika,” he said, voice deep. He reached out and lightly brushed his fingers against yours.
Your body finally kicked back into gear at his touch and you shoved him lightly in his armored chest. “Din!” You put both of your palms on his chest and marveled at the fact that he was here, in front of you, solidly physical and real. “You’re here!”
He chuckled, and you marveled again at being able to hear him. “I promised I would be.”
You felt yourself start to smile and noticed his helmet dipped. “I can’t believe you’re here.” You ran your hands down his chest and then froze. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just started touching you, I didn’t even ask–” You started to pull your hands away but he caught them and placed your hands back on his chest.
“You can touch me,” he murmured.
“Yeah?” you asked, grinning.
He nodded.
“I may have thought about it… a lot,” you confessed, stepping even closer.
His hands released yours and came to rest on your hips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
For a moment you just grinned at him, a bit stunned.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come in last time,” he said, and he did sound sorry. “I wanted to, I just…”
Now that you had him in front of you, real and solid and a man, it felt suddenly easier to tease him. “But you were overwhelmed by my beauty, huh?”
You gasped when he tugged you closer and squeezed your hips. “I was,” he agreed. “You are so kriffing beautiful, cyar’ika.”
You felt yourself begin to melt, but then remembered. “Wait,” you said, looking up at his visor. “You promised – what does that mean?”
He leaned down and nudged your forehead gently with his helmet.
“Sweetheart.”
…
The kids’ show went off without a hitch. Grogu was overjoyed to have his dad in the audience and played the drums with more enthusiasm than you had ever seen him have in practice. All of the kids did well, and their parents kept telling you how impressed they were as they headed home.
As soon as the area around you cleared, after the show, Din appeared with Grogu in his arms.
“Grogu, you did so well!” You reached your fist out to bump his little one and he cheered. “I’m so proud of you and I know your dad is, too.” You looked up at Din, who nodded.
“I am,” he agreed, “I told him.” He looked down at Grogu. “Right, bud?” Grogu made a little noise that definitely sounded like agreement.
“Are you heading out?” You asked, smiling at Cara when she came to join your group.
Din nodded. “Taking this one home. But, I wanted to ask – are you free tomorrow?”
You grinned. “I am.”
He took a step closer and Grogu made a little bah noise. “I’ll message you. But you have plans.”
You could feel Cara smirking at the two of you but you couldn’t look away from Din. “I do?”
Din leaned a little bit closer. “You do now.”
You said goodnight, but the warmth from finally meeting Din and knowing you had plans later carried you home.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Meet me at the market after lunch?
you:
Yes! What are our plans?
Smiling, you made an update to his contact.
Din:
I’m ready to learn how to relax.
…
You stood by the large tree at the edge of the market, nervous but excited. You’d spent too much time picking out your clothes and now that you were there, you couldn’t stop remembering how it had felt to finally touch him.
“You look beautiful,” a warm voice said from behind you, and you spun around.
“Din!” You grinned. He was very shiny in the midday sun.
He stepped closer and one of his hands came up to cup your upper arm. His gloved thumb moved back and forth across your skin in a light caress. “Hi, cyar’ika.”
You felt your face heat at the endearment, now that you knew what it meant.
“I’m ready to relax,” he said, voice teasing.
You laughed and leaned a bit closer. He was right there, in front of you, and you felt like you were floating. “Alright. I say we walk through the market and stock up on some snacks, and then we’ll try out some aimless relaxation. Preferably on a couch or other soft surface. And maybe we’ll listen to some music.”
Din nodded along to your instructions, turning to follow as you walked towards the market. He slid his hand down your arm and slipped it into yours. “Does your place have a couch?”
You looked at him. “Din, would you like to come back to my place? Do you have time?”
He leaned forward and nudged his helmet against your forehead again. “Cara’s got Grogu. I’m all yours. And yes, I do want to.”
“Great,” you said, smiling, and started to point out your favorite stalls. You collected some fruit and cookies from Tam and some other snacks as you walked.
Din took each item and stored them in a bag as you collected them. “Are these the cookies Grogu learned how to make?”
You nodded. “And he still loves them.”
Din laughed. “Of course he does.”
Once you had a nice assortment, you turned in the direction of your apartment. As you walked, you marveled at how easy, how right it felt, to spend time together in person.
“Is it nice, being back on planet?” you asked.
He nodded once. “Food’s much better,” he said, and you smiled. “So’s the company.”
You turned onto the small street with the door to your apartment. “Flatterer.”
As you stepped up to your door to unlock it, Din stepped up close behind you. So close you could feel the heat of his body. “It’s the truth, cyar’ika.”
You felt a shiver travel up your back as you finally unlocked the door, followed by the tips of his fingers as they followed the shiver. “Well, here it is.” You waved your arm at your apartment and stood to the side to welcome Din inside.
He looked around, and suddenly you felt nervous. Before you could get too worked up, though, he said, “I like it. It’s very warm, like you.”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
Din stepped closer and nudged your forehead with his helmet again. “You’re easy to talk to, and so warm in all of our conversations. It feels like that.”
You leaned closer. “Does this mean something?” You nudged his helmet.
He hummed. “It’s a Keldabe kiss. It’s how we kiss without removing our helmets.”
“Din!” You exclaimed, leaning back to look at him. “You kissed me when we met yesterday?”
“Couldn’t help it.” He leaned in to do it again and you grinned. “I’ve been wanting to for weeks.”
You reached down and took his hand, tugging him towards the living area. “Come on. We have some relaxing to do.”
To your surprise, rather than joining you on the couch, he started stripping off his armor and placing the pieces carefully on your dining table. He must have noticed your surprise because he explained, “Relaxing, right? This will be more comfortable.”
You watched carefully, taking note of each piece. When he was finished he was just wearing his flight suit and helmet. You couldn’t help but ask, “not the helmet?”
Din seemed to tense for a moment, but then he relaxed. “No. I… my creed. I can’t take it off in front of other living things.”
You tilted your head, considering this information. “Not even Grogu?”
He shook his head. “Grogu is clan, he’s my son. Our clan can see our faces.”
That made sense. “Alright. Want to sit?”
You gestured at the seat next to you and smiled as he sat.
“You don’t…” he trailed off and turned in his seat to look at you head on. “You don’t have more questions?”
You turned sideways and leaned against the back of your couch, propping your chin on your hand. Your knee brushed against his leg. “No, not right now. I mean, I want to know more, but mostly I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready, right? If it’s stuff I can know.” You reached over and slipped your hand into his and squeezed. “I don’t want to push you, and I like the way we’ve been talking.”
He leaned forward and squeezed your hand. “I like it too.” His voice was suddenly much deeper. “Thank you.”
You smiled. “Are you thanking me for being patient?”
Din nodded. “I am. So what’s the next step in our day of relaxation?”
You gestured at your sound system. “Let me put on something soothing.” You grabbed your data pad from the coffee table and set it up. “There.”
Soft music started to play and you eased back into your seat.
“Do we just sit here?” Din asked, sounding a little baffled.
It made you smile. “Yes, but we can talk. Or you can always lie down, that’s much more relaxing.” You grabbed a pillow and placed it against your thigh. “Want to try it?”
“Here?” He pointed at the couch and you nodded. He hesitated and then took off his boots. He slowly leaned down until he was lying back against the pillow. As soon as his back was flat he groaned. “Ok, maybe I needed this.”
“Maybe you need a back rub,” you replied.
Din laughed. “Probably. I don’t know if I’ve ever had one. You offering?”
“Never?” You shook your head, incredulous. “Ask me again later. We’re relaxing right now.” You fell into an easy conversation about your week and you finally found out more about his job. As you talked, you leaned further into the couch and started idly tracing shapes along his chest with your fingertips without even realizing you were doing it.
“A bounty hunter makes so much more sense than what I was thinking,” you remarked as he finished telling you about his last job. “All of your ridiculous stories make sense now.”
Din laughed again and you realized you wanted to hear that sound more. Every day, if you could.
“That’s good. I realized in retrospect how it all sounds when I was talking to you.” He reached up and laced his fingers through yours, stilling your hand against his chest. “It doesn’t scare you?”
You looked down at his visor and smiled. “I was already worrying about you, but I know you’re capable. I could tell from your stories. If anything, it’s reassuring — you must be good at it, to be doing it this long.” You sighed. “But I probably will still worry, yes.”
Din hummed and you felt certain he was looking at you, too, even though you couldn’t tell through the dark glass. “Cara offered me more work around here. I think I’ll take her up on it. I’ll still go off planet sometimes, but not as much.”
“Well,” you said, smiling, “I won’t pretend I don’t like the sound of that. But you don’t have to do that just because we’re, um…” you trailed off as you realized you didn’t exactly know what you were.
“Relaxing together?” He teased, and you laughed. “It would be better for Grogu, that’s important. But I do want to be here more so I can see you more. Not only send messages.” He squeezed your hand. “I like you.”
You felt something warm settle inside you at his words and you were certain it showed on your face. “I like you too, Din.”
You told him more stories about the kids’ antics during the week, but you realized as you finished a story about Kiran trying to adopt a lizard from the lava flats as the class pet — and Grogu wanting to eat it, instead — that Din had fallen asleep.
You smiled and curled your body more around his helmet and the pillow in your lap. The fact that he felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with you filled you with warmth. You took the opportunity to study this man who had somehow swept you off your feet through pad messages. Even without seeing his face, you could tell he was attractive – his body was toned and strong, but not thin. You could tell he was used to very physical work. You traced his shoulders and arms and chest with your eyes and bit your lip – he was much more exposed like this, without armor. You could see the outline of his body and it made you press your thighs together under the pillow.
Get it together, you told yourself sternly. We are relaxing, not ogling.
He stirred, suddenly, and you couldn’t help but soothe him. “Shhh, go back to sleep,” you murmured. “Relax.” He seemed to settle again at the sound of your voice, so you kept talking. “I’m really glad you feel comfortable here, Din. With me.” You hummed along to the music softly for a moment. “You really are very handsome. I can tell. And kriff, these shoulders. And your hands.” You laughed softly at yourself. “I already liked you, you know? Without seeing you. But now…” you trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by what you were admitting even though he was asleep.
At least, you thought he was asleep.
He startled you by responding, suddenly, and tightened his hold on your hand on his chest to keep you from pulling away. “Now?” he asked, voice scratchy and deep. “Now what, cyar’ika?”
You felt your face heat up. “How much of that did you hear?”
Din hummed and settled more into the couch. “Something about my shoulders.”
“Kriff,” you said, laughing. “That’s so embarrassing.”
He shook his head. “No, I liked it.” He squeezed your hand. “What were you going to say? But now…” he prompted you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Now I like you and I can’t stop looking at you, I guess.”
He looked at you for a moment, helmet tilted back. Then he started to sit up. You made a noise in complaint but he settled in much closer to you than before with his arm over the back of the couch. You were touching from shoulder to knee. Your breath caught.
“Is that really what you were going to say, mesh’la?” He leaned in towards you and pressed his helmet to your forehead again.
You shivered. “Din—“ you started, not sure what you were going to say.
“Tell me,” he urged you softly. He dropped his arm over your shoulders and suddenly you were totally wrapped up in his warmth.
“I already liked you,” you repeated, leaning into his embrace. “And I already wanted you. Before I’d even seen you.” You stumbled over your words but felt a surge of confidence when you felt him draw in a sharp breath. “And now I can’t stop looking at you. Because you already had me with your flirting.” You reached out and placed your hand on his thigh and squeezed, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “But Din, I am so turned on. I know we just met, officially, but—“
“Cyar’ika,” he murmured, wrapping his free arm around your waist. “I’ve been hard since you told me to lie down in your lap.”
Your gaze shot down to his pants, but you couldn’t see any proof.
“These pants don’t show it. But believe me,” he lifted your hand from his thigh and placed it over his hard length. Your eyes widened. “I want you. Badly.”
“Din,” you breathed. You looked back up at him and squeezed his cock, and watched a shiver travel across his shoulders.
“How dark is your bedroom?” He asked suddenly.
“Very,” you said, a bit confused. “I have those curtains that block out the light, helps me sleep.”
“Perfect,” he replied, and tugged you up off the couch. “Come here, mesh’la.” He grabbed something from the pile of his things on the coffee table and led you towards your bedroom after you pointed it out.
Once inside, he moved towards the windows and closed the curtains. The room immediately darkened. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking around the room, and nodded.
“Good,” he said, and you stepped closer.
“Good for what?”
Din held up his hand and you realized he was holding a length of black cloth. “It’s dark enough in here. But just to be sure… if you, would you wear this?”
Suddenly you realized the reason why he was doing all of this and your entire body lit up in response. “Your helmet?” you asked, eyes wide.
He nodded. “Will you?” He held what you recognized as a blindfold towards you, and you nodded before he’d even finished speaking.
“Of course,” you said, stepping closer. “Din, I promise, I won’t look. But yes, I’ll wear it.”
You saw some of the tension fade from his shoulders and smiled. He took you gently by the shoulders and turned you around. “Thank you,” he murmured as he lifted the blindfold into place. He tied it tightly, but not too tight. “How’s that?” You felt air on your face and wondered if he was waving his hand in front of your eyes.
“I can’t see anything,” you confirmed. You reached back, trying to find him, and he caught your hand. “I promise.”
He turned you back around slowly and suddenly you were pressed up against his chest with his hand on your back. “I believe you. I trust you.”
You thought of the way he had fallen asleep so easily in your presence and smiled. “What now, Din?”
You heard a hissing noise and then a large thump and realized he must have removed his helmet. The sound of his voice confirmed it. “Now, cyar’ika,” he said, and you shivered when you felt his breath on your face, “I’m going to kiss you.”
You opened your mouth to respond, yes, and maybe please, but you never got the words out. His lips met yours and every other thought flew out of your head. You could tell he was somewhat new to this – that wasn’t surprising, considering what he’d told you about his helmet – but he learned quickly and you barely noticed any awkwardness. You lost yourself in his kiss, in his arms, in the darkness of your blindfold.
When his tongue traced along your bottom lip, you moaned, and his answering moan made you feel lightheaded. He broke away suddenly to press kisses down your neck and you sighed. “Din,” you said, and realized your hands were tangled in his hair. His hair. “That feels so good.”
“Does it?” He murmured, and you could hear his smirk. “Tell me, cyar’ika.”
You pushed yourself closer until you were pressed fully against him. “Yes, Din. Can we– can you–” you weren’t sure what you were asking, and he interrupted you with a nibble at your neck.
“We can do whatever you want,” he promised, voice low. “What do you want, mesh’la?”
That word, the new one, finally snagged at your attention. “What’s that mean?”
He lifted his head and pressed his smile to your cheek. It made you smile back. “That’s what you want? To know that?”
You nodded. “Please. And then I want you to make me come.”
Din growled and tugged you in the direction you were pretty sure led to your bed. “Beautiful,” he said, voice intent. “It means beautiful. Because you are.” He tugged you downwards and you realized he was sitting on the bed. You settled into position straddling his lap and ground your hips down. His answering moan was very gratifying. “Let me make you feel good.”
He had one arm around your back, and you felt his other hand trail along the waistband of your pants. You tilted your hips forward to encourage him. He undid them deftly and you sighed when his large fingers slid inside your underwear.
He teased you, and you knew he could feel how wet you were without even pressing inside.
“Did I turn you on, cyar’ika?” He pressed his lips to your ear and you shivered at how deep his voice was. “Is this for me?”
“Yes, Din,” you said, and before you could say anything else his fingers parted your folds and slipped inside.
“So wet,” he said, voice awed. “And all for me, hmm?” His fingers found your clit and circled it and you gasped. He swallowed it with a kiss.
You broke away on a gasp when he replaced his fingers with his thumb and trailed through your wetness to circle your entrance with his fingertips. “Din,” you said, pleading.
“Is this what you want, mesh’la?” You nodded and he nipped at your neck below your ear. “I thought about this,” he said, lips brushing against your ear as he slid his fingers inside you. “Thought about this when you talked to me, when I pictured you covered in more paint than clothes.” He curled his fingers forward and you moaned. “Thought about this when you made me smile, when you said you think about me.”
“I do, Din,” you said, voice unsteady. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ground down on his fingers. “I thought about this, too.”
“Yeah?” he asked, and you nodded against his neck. “My fingers?”
“Yes,” you said, building up a rhythm with your hips. “And your cock. And your tongue.”
Din let out a noise you could only classify as a whine and it sent sparks shooting up your spine. “You want that? My mouth on you?” You nodded, almost frantically, and he shuddered. “I want that too. You have no idea how much.”
You could feel it building inside of you and you buried your face in his shoulder. You marveled at feeling so much of his skin as you did.
“I think you’re close, cyar’ika,” he murmured between kisses on your neck. “You’re squeezing me.” His thumb started to move faster and you knew you were about to fall over the edge. “Come for me, beautiful. I want to feel it.”
You did, with his fingers thrusting in and out of you and his arm holding you tight in his lap. You cried out his name as you fell and shuddered at the sparks flying through your body. The pleasure washed over you like a wave, head to toe.
When you came back to yourself, you were on your back on the mattress with Din’s body pressing you down.
“You with me?” he asked, and you nodded. “Good. Cyar’ika, I want to fuck you.”
Your head swam at his words, and you nodded again.
“Let me hear your voice,” he murmured, and kissed you. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me, Din,” you said, and felt it when he smiled into a kiss. “I’ve wanted it, badly.”
“Me too,” he promised, and lifted off of you to remove his flight suit. When he pressed back down and you felt his skin on yours your eyes rolled back in your head.
“Dank farrik,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re so soft.” He rubbed his body against yours and you gasped at the sensations he sent through you. His hard cock was trapped between your stomachs and you lifted your hips, wrapping your legs around him, trying to change the angle.
Din tilted his hips and suddenly his cock was nestled against you, and you gasped. “You feel so kriffing good,” he moaned, and you nodded.
“You too, Din,” you cut off on a gasp when the head of his cock nudged your clit. “Please fuck me.”
Din huffed a laugh, and murmured, “so polite.”
You smacked him lightly on his very shapely ass, and then paused to fondle it. He laughed again and you grinned into his neck. “Is there something wrong with polite?”
Din nudged at your cheek until you turned into a searing kiss. “No,” he finally replied, lifting his hips and reaching down to move his cock right where you wanted it. “Just makes me want to give you what you want. Even more.” The head of his cock pressed against your entrance and you sighed. “I’ve thought about this so many times, almost since the beginning.” He started pushing inside and you tangled your fingers in his hair. You were panting. He was big. “And then I saw you, and you were flirting with me, and I couldn’t,” he pulled out slightly and thrust forward again, “stop,” he did it again, farther in this time, “thinking about it.” He pushed steadily forward until his hips met yours and you both moaned.
“Me neither,” you said, turning your head and nipping at his ear. He moaned again. “So much, Din.” He shuddered as he pulled out and thrust forward again, and you lifted your hips to meet him.
He found a steady rhythm that sent sparks up and down your spine, building you up and sending you closer and closer to the edge. Your mind was spinning with pleasure and a bit of awe that you were finally there, that Din was inside you, like you’d been hoping for. Like you’d been craving.
Din leaned his weight onto his left arm and snaked his right hand between your bodies until he found your clit. When he circled it with his finger you almost sobbed.
“I want to feel you come again, mesh’la.” Din’s voice was rough with his own pleasure and it made yours shoot higher. “Squeeze me tight. Dank farrik.” His chest heaved when you did as he asked and squeezed. “Let me feel it. Come for me.”
He thrust forward again and circled your clit just right and you fell off the edge again, but this time it felt like you were flying. You spiraled upwards on the wave of pleasure and when it crashed down again it flowed over your entire body, leaving tingles in its wake.
You squeezed his cock and he moaned into your ear. “You feel so good when you come, kriff, your pussy feels so good.” His hips thrust forward again, losing their rhythm, and you knew he was close. You tugged at his hair until your mouth hovered over his.
“Din,” you said, and kissed him. “Come inside me.”
He moaned and he did, thrusting twice more before stilling and moaning your name. When he collapsed on top of you you wrapped your arms and legs around him and sighed.
“Kark,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses along your neck and throat. “That was so good.”
You laughed, and gasped when he laughed too and you felt it against your chest. “It was, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “You know, I like this relaxation thing.” You laughed and squeezed him. He grunted. “I have another confession.”
“Uh oh,” you teased. “Is this the last one?”
Din pushed himself up until he was leaning on his left arm again and kissed you softly. “I promise. After this it’s just getting to know each other more.” He kissed you again. “But I need to tell you. I didn’t just run because you’re beautiful.” another kiss. “Even though you are and that was part of it.” A longer kiss this time followed by a nip to your bottom lip. You smiled. “But I also saw you, and all of these feelings I’d been putting off and denying came rushing up and I couldn’t deny them anymore. I think I was afraid, since we’d never met, never seen each other.”
You nodded. You knew that feeling.
“It was all real, suddenly, and I wasn’t ready for that.” He nudged at your nose with his and hummed.
You kissed him. “But you’re ready now?”
“I am,” he said, voice firm and warm. “I want you. I want this. I want to figure it out.”
Joel Miller x f!reader | 4.1k | 18+ | masterlist | ao3
summary: so, getting trapped in an elevator with the hot contractor you've seen around the office was not on your to-do list for today... but maybe it's just what you needed.
a/n: this is my entry for @toomanystoriessolittletime's 47 minutes in heaven challenge! it was fun to write Joel again but now I feel like I'm fighting him off with a stick (it's Din's turn!!). thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!!
tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, stuck in an elevator, reader works in an office building (no specifics), reader has a panic attack and is afraid of elevators, reader says she's not good with small spaces and heights, breathing exercises, no outbreak or pre-outbreak?, you decide, pet name (darlin', gorgeous, honey), reader wears pants and is mentioned to wear a black dress, reader sits in Joel's lap, smut: kissing, grinding, fingering, some dirty talk
...
When the elevator doors closed with only you and him inside, you tensed.
When the whole thing shuddered and came to a stop, somewhere between floors 8 and 9, you knew you were fucked.
…
You’d seen him for the first time a couple of weeks before — he was with the group that was renovating the offices on the other side of your floor. He’d been standing with his back to you, arms crossed, talking to another man and sometimes gesturing at a wall. It seemed like they disagreed about something.
You’d noticed him immediately — broad shoulders, strong arms, hair you wanted to bury your fingers in. Slim hips with a tool belt slung across them. Then he’d turned around and, well.
He was gorgeous. Tan skin, warm brown eyes, even under his furrowed brow (they really were arguing about something). A scruffy beard. He was so much your type, so attractive, that you almost walked into the open door to the break room.
He didn’t see you, thank god, but the other guy did. When you looked back up after catching yourself before you face planted, he was grinning at you. He winked at you over the gorgeous man’s shoulder. You felt your entire body turn hot and you ran.
And that had only been the beginning.
…
You were in a hurry, searching through your bag for your ID to swipe into the building, barely looking where you were going, when you bumped into him for the second time.
Literally bumped into him.
You weren’t sure exactly what happened, but you went from walking forwards to almost falling without even noticing anything in between. Suddenly you were sideways, on your way down, and the only thing holding you up was two big strong hands, firmly supporting your elbows.
You reached out to steady yourself and as you looked up, you realized it was him. The absurdly hot contractor who was working on your floor.
And your hands were flat against his chest while his held you in place.
He started to smile and you felt your face start to burn.
“Shit,” you said, wincing. “Sorry, did I just walk into you?”
He was really smiling, then. “No, that’s alright. I think we just happened to walk into each other.” His voice was warm and deep and his accent made you shiver.
You squinted at him, pretty sure he was full of shit. “If you say so. Um, thank you, for–” You looked down and saw that he was definitely holding you up. You stood straighter. “For catching me, I guess.”
“Oh, anytime, darlin’. My pleasure,” he said, lightly squeezing your arms and then releasing them. You realized your hands were still on his chest and dropped them like they’d been burned.
You might have actually talked to him, then, but your coworker had called your name from behind you and you’d taken the out, scurrying away like an embarrassed rat.
(You didn’t look back, or you would have seen him watching you go.)
…
The third time, you were in your office, focused on a spreadsheet. You had your legs folded underneath you in a way that you knew looked ridiculous in your desk chair, and you were hunched forward, squinting at the screen. You were going to find that error, damnit.
And that’s when he’d cleared his throat.
Startled, you’d tried to jump out of your seat, but instead only gotten more tangled in it. Your foot flew through the loop of the arm and you found yourself straddling the arm rest somehow.
You looked up to see the hot contractor trying not to smile. Of course.
“Um,” you said, trying to find a graceful way to disentangle yourself from an inanimate piece of office furniture. “What… did you need something?”
He smiled, then, and you blinked, taken aback again by how handsome he was. “I just wanted to apologize in advance, we’re going to make a bit of noise across the way for about the next 45 minutes.” He stepped forward and lifted his hands and you realized he was going to try to help you. “Do you need—“
“Oh,” you interrupted, finally surreptitiously standing and fishing your leg out of your chair. “That’s alright, I’ve got headphones. But thanks!” You hopped slightly to the side and finally found yourself standing with both feet on the ground. You did not make a face. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“No problem,” he said, still smiling. “Sorry again, for startling you.”
“It’s fine!” You tried to smile your way through it. “I’ll just–”
He nodded, and ducked out.
You sighed. Again?
…
By the time you found yourself trapped in the elevator with him, you were pretty sure you were destined to make a fool of yourself every time he so much as glanced at you.
On top of that, you were afraid of elevators.
When the car shuddered and came to a halt, you froze. You felt your heart begin to race like the worst kind of panic attack was just around the corner. You blinked, dazed, and then realized the lights were flickering.
“No, no, no,” you murmured, turning to look at the buttons. “No, please,” you said, stepping forwards and pressing the call button.
Nothing happened.
You could feel it, then, the oncoming panic attack, and this was not the time, you tried to tell yourself.
“Hey,” a soft voice interrupted. You whirled around, startled. You’d forgotten he was there. “You alright?”
He stepped towards you and you didn’t know what your face was doing, but clearly it wasn’t good, because he stopped.
“Hey,” he said again, voice deeper, more soothing. “We’re ok.” Not a question this time. “S’probably just to do with the construction we’re doin’. I’ll call my brother – he’s my business partner, you’ve probably seen him around. I’ll call him and make sure. Ok?”
You nodded, and you felt yourself start to shake. You backed up until you hit the wall and slid down until you could curl yourself into a ball, arms wrapped around your knees, head ducked. You could hear him having a short conversation but tried to focus on your breathing.
In-2-3-4
Out-2-3-4
In-2-3-4
Out-2–
“Hey,” there were shoes in your line of sight. You raised your head and found him squatting about a foot away from you. “S’just a power issue. They’ll have it back on line in about 45 minutes, alright?”
You blinked. “45–” you tried to repeat, but your voice came out like a gasp for air.
He frowned and reached forward hesitantly. You nodded, and he rested his hand on your elbow. “We’re not in any danger, alright? Brakes have got us. We’ll just sit tight until they fix it and then we’ll get out.”
He was right, you knew he was, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing or your short, uneven breaths.
“I–” you tried, but it didn’t come out.
“Hey,” and that time it was even deeper, soothing. He scooted forward and sat next to you. “Look at me, darlin’. Give me your hand.”
You did, and it was limp, and shaking. He frowned but placed your hand firmly on his chest. For a wild moment you wondered if you were going to reenact your second meeting.
“Breathe with me,” he said. “I’ll count.”
For the next few minutes, you did. He breathed in, and you breathed in. He breathed out, and you breathed out. You were looking into each other’s eyes the whole time, and without you really noticing, your breath evened out.
“There you go,” he said and smiled.
You nodded, noticing you’d stopped shaking. “Thank you. I’m not… small spaces. And heights. It’s the worst of both.”
He nodded. “I’m Joel, by the way. Realized I never introduced myself.”
You did the same and noticed he was still holding your hand against his chest. He seemed to realize it at the same time and squeezed your hand gently before releasing it.
“Do you know how much longer?” You weren’t sure how long you’d been following his breathing.
Joel checked his watch. “Probably about 30, 35 minutes. Tommy said they were already working on it when I called.”
“You said he’s your brother?” You wrapped your arms around the knee closest to him, hugging it to you.
He nodded and scooted a bit closer. He reached for one of your hands as he spoke. “And business partner. Miller Contracting.” He winked at you as he held your hand gently in both of his, palm up. He dug his thumbs into your palm, softly at first and then harder. A hand massage? It was instantly soothing, somehow, and you took an easier breath. “I do this for my daughter. She has panic attacks sometimes.” He started to work your wrist into gentle stretches as you glanced up at him.
“Daughter?” you asked, wondering if there was a wife, too.
Joel nodded and smiled. “Sarah. S’just me and her, so we’ve figured out a few tricks.”
You smiled back. “Sounds like you’re a good dad.”
He ducked his head. “Try to be.” He reached for your other hand and you gave it easily, turning towards him. He was sitting cross-legged and somehow you ended up with your left knee nudging his legs, almost in his lap. Your breath caught but neither of you moved to put more space between you.
He started to massage your other hand and for a moment you just watched as his large, strong hands so carefully caressed yours.
Then the elevator trembled.
It shook, just slightly, and made a noise that you hoped wasn’t the brakes straining. Before you even knew what was happening you’d thrown yourself forward in terror, diving into Joel’s shoulder. Your breaths were coming hard and fast again and you struggled to find any air. Without missing a beat his arms came up to catch you and he pulled you forward into his lap.
You found yourself with your knees on either side of his hips and his arms firm around you, holding you in place. He slid one large hand up your back and pushed you gently forward until your chest rested against his.
You could immediately feel the difference in your breathing – his was slow and steady while yours was too quick, too shallow, almost hyperventilating.
Joel tucked your face into his neck and murmured in your ear, “it’s alright, darlin’. Breathe with me.” He started to breathe in and you felt his chest move. You tried to match your breath to his, but for a few moments you could only struggle against your own body. He started to hum, something low and soothing, and it pulled your attention from your anxiety and the elevator to Joel. You focused on the sound of his voice and the feeling of his arms around you, of his body under yours.
Soon you sank deeper into him as your breaths started to even out. It wasn’t quite another full-fledged panic attack but it was close.
“There you go,” he murmured, tightening his arm around you and cupping the back of your neck.
It hit you, then, that you were straddling this man who you’d just met. You squeaked and started to pull away. His arm held you in place. “Oh, shit, Joel, I’m so sorry–”
“Hey,” he said, interrupting you. You lifted your head and met his eyes. You saw nothing but softness and warmth. “No need for any o’that.” He smirked. “Besides. Might be that I like havin’ you here.”
Your eyes widened. You realized your hands were tucked in front of you on his chest and you slowly slid them up and around the back of his neck. You smiled. “Yeah?”
“Might have caught you lookin’ at me a couple times.” His thumb started to caress the side of your neck, moving up and down gently, and you shivered. “Might have been looking back.”
You bit your lip and felt your heart start racing when his eyes dropped to look at your mouth. “You sure you weren’t just looking at me because I kept making a fool of myself?”
Joel laughed, and you grinned. “Darlin’, I just wish I could have ended up with my hands on you to help you out of that chair, like when I caught you downstairs.” He winked and you realized his hand, which had been wrapped around your back, had slid down to grip your hip. He squeezed.
You winced, but reached down to catch his hand when he started to move it away. You put it back on your hip. “Not that. Just, ugh, that was so embarrassing.” You squirmed slightly in his lap and he sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing your hip again. “I still don’t know how I did that.”
He smiled at you and slipped his thumb under the hem of your shirt. “I don’t know how you pretzeled yourself into that chair to begin with, darlin’.” You laughed. “It was charming.”
You raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. “I charmed you by sticking my leg through the arm of my desk chair?”
He laughed again and you watched the way it changed his face. “You did. I was charmed. Wanted to walk over and help you out of it. I’d already made up an excuse to come and talk to you, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” You scooted just a bit closer on his lap and he encouraged you, tugging your hip forward.
“Mmhmm,” he murmured, and tugged lightly with the hand that was still cupping the back of your neck. You leaned forward. “Tommy’s been teasin’ me, saying my mind is already over in office 1502, might as well walk over there and join it.”
You were suddenly so close your nose brushed his. “Joel,” you breathed, and he grinned.
“Can I help you darlin’?” His voice was low and slow and your breath hitched. “Let me distract you, hmm? Take your mind off it.” You met his eyes. You realized your mouth had fallen open slightly. His gaze was dark and intent. “Can I kiss you? Got no idea how much I’ve been wantin’ to.”
His eyes dropped to your mouth and all you could manage was, “please.”
Before the word was fully past your lips, he was there to swallow it down.
His lips pressed against yours gently, at first, and then with fervor. You shivered at the softness of his lips and sank happily into the feeling of his mouth against yours.
He used his grip on your neck to tilt your head to the side. He opened his mouth and you moaned, just slightly.
Joel groaned and tugged you forward, as close as you could get.
As his tongue caressed yours, you thrust your hips down, and you moaned again when you felt your effect on him against the seam of your pants. He was hard, so hard – so hard it made your head spin.
“Joel,” you whined when he broke away to press his mouth to your jaw.
He smiled against your cheek. “Darlin,” he said, voice deep and rough. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but.” He took a breath. “Can I make you come? Please?”
You sucked in a sharp breath, mind spinning. You didn’t want to think about the fact that you were in an elevator at work, but you couldn’t help it. Distantly, you wondered how much time you had left.
Joel interrupted your worry by nipping at your neck. You sighed and drove your hips down into his. He held you there with his grip on your hip.
“Please?” he repeated, pressing a line of kisses down your neck. “Been thinkin’ about it. Wonderin’ how gorgeous you are when you come, when you’re already so gorgeous all the time, anyway.”
You were moving, hips rocking back and forth, before you could stop yourself. You nodded, but he used his grip on your neck to tilt your face towards his. You blinked your eyes open, wondering when you’d closed them.
“Let me hear you say it, gorgeous.” The hand on your hip started creeping under your shirt.
Your eyes locked onto his and you threw caution to the wind. There was nothing but you and him. “Yes, Joel,” you said, voice breathy. “Make me come.”
He growled and pulled you back into a fierce kiss. His hand moved from under your shirt to the waistband of your pants, which he unbuttoned smoothly.
Your hips stuttered forward into his, and he smirked against your mouth. “Do you want it bad, darlin’?”
“Joel,” you murmured, a complaint, and he kissed you again.
“No shame in it, darlin’,” he said, brushing his fingers lightly over your underwear, where you knew he could feel how wet you were. “Got no idea how bad I want to touch you.” He pressed down with his fingertips and ran them up the length of your underwear slowly. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
You kissed him again. “About me?”
He smiled and started to push your underwear to the side. You gasped. “You got any idea how nice your ass looks in these pants?” You laughed, surprised. “And don’t get me started on when you’re sitting at your desk, leaning forward, biting your lip and frowning at your computer.” He stroked your neck again with his thumb, his hand still gripping you there firmly. “Never been so turned on in an office, darlin’. Never been so turned on at work.”
Joel slipped his fingers inside your underwear, finally, and brushed his fingers over your pussy. “Bet you’re gorgeous down here, too.”
You sighed and bucked your hips towards his fingers. “Joel,” you said, and this time his name sounded like a plea. He smiled against your mouth.
“What is it, darlin’?” His smug tone made you want to bite him. So you did, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth. He groaned and slipped his fingers between your folds, sliding easily in the evidence of your arousal. “Fuck, you’re so wet, aren’t you?”
You twisted your hips and nodded. “You know, I was only concentrating so hard because some hot contractor kept taking up all of my attention.” You grinned at him when he looked at you. “It’s pretty hard to focus when you’re here, walking around looking like that.”
Joel chuckled as his fingers came to rest against your clit. You felt the shiver travel up your back like lightning up your spine. “Looking like that? What’s that mean?”
His fingers started to circle your clit and you squirmed in his lap. His grip tightened on the back of your neck. “Like… that. With those shoulders, and arms, and those hands, Joel. Not to mention your very handsome face.” You pressed a few quick kisses to his cheeks and jaw. “I saw you frowning at Tommy, and that was hot enough,” you said, voice catching as you ground down against his hand. “And then you smiled at me, when you caught me.”
“Darlin’, I have a confession.” Joel moved his thumb to your clit and crept lower with two of his fingers, collecting your arousal as he went. “Tommy told me about the door,” he said, “but only ‘cause I’d done the same thing, the day before.”
You blinked, and looked up from where you’d been staring down at his hand in your pants. “You what?”
Joel nudged your nose with his, smiling. “I almost walked into the wall over by the bathrooms, first time I saw you. You stepped off the elevator in that black dress and I swear my soul left my body.” His fingers circle your entrance as his thumb worked over your clit and you gasped. “Been trying to figure out how to ask you out ever since.”
One of his fingers slipped inside you and you threw your head back. Joel began to mouth at your neck and you realized you were breathing faster, in and out. “You should have,” you breathed.
His finger was thick, and the realization made you shiver when you wondered what his cock would be like. Judging by what you’d felt in his lap, it was big.
He started to work it in and out, slowly opening you up. Before you could whine for more he slipped a second finger inside to join it. The feeling of his fingers stretching you, thrusting in and out, and then this thumb on your clit, his grip on your neck – it was making your head spin.
“Darlin’,” he murmured, and pulled your face back close to his. He kissed you one, twice, in time with the thrusts of his thick fingers. “Can I take you out? On a date?”
You nodded. “Yes, please,” you breathed.
Joel grinned. “Good. Tonight?” He thrust his fingers inside you again and curled them forwards.
You whined. “Yes.”
Joel drew you back into a deep, fierce kiss and you buried your hands in his hair. He was working his fingers perfectly and you felt your orgasm building at the base of your spine.
“And maybe I can take you home after,” he murmured against your mouth, “and put my mouth on you, make you come again.” You thrust your hips forward and nodded, overwhelmed. “Would you like that, gorgeous? Let me lick you, get you all wet?”
“Yes, Joel.” Your mind was spinning, full of the images he was giving you.
“And then I’ll give you my cock. Is that what you want?”
You let out a sound you’d never heard yourself make before.
“Don’t worry, honey, it’s what I want, too. Been wantin’ it.” He smiled against your lips. “I can feel you gettin’ close, darlin’.” He twisted his fingers again and you moaned. “Come on, now. Come for me. Let me see it.”
He circled your clit just right with his thumb and you felt yourself teeter on the edge of it, like an ocean below you waiting for you to fall.
“C’mon, gorgeous,” he said, kissing you swiftly. He quirked his fingers and circled his thumb and you fell off the edge. “Come.”
You did, and it washed over you like a wave, drowning everything else out as you gave in to the feeling of his fingers and his mouth on your neck. You were pretty sure you said his name, but your entire world had narrowed to the places where he was touching you.
“...fuck,” he was saying, when you came back to yourself, breathing hard. “Fuckin’ hell, that was gorgeous. I knew it. So fucking pretty when you come.”
You couldn’t help yourself and thrust down against his cock, which was straining against his jeans.
“Joel,” you moaned, and finally met his eyes again. They were dark and his face was intent, watching you. The look you found there made you wonder if you were about to have the best sex of your life in a broken elevator.
And then his phone rang.
“Shit,” he muttered, releasing your neck to dig in his pocket for his phone. You realized as he did that his fingers were still inside you and that he hadn’t moved them. “What,” he said into the phone, voice flat.
His eyebrows lifted as he listened, and he glanced at you. “Fifteen minutes?” he asked, and twisted his fingers inside of you. He smirked when you squirmed. “Alright, we’ll be ready.” He ended the call and dropped his phone on the carpeted floor of the elevator next to your knee. “Think I can make you come again in that time, darlin’?
You smiled. “Only if you let me touch you, too, Joel.”
He tilted his head, studying you with a smirk that made you squeeze his fingers. “Well–” he started to say, but suddenly the elevator shook and started to move again.
Startled, Joel slipped his fingers out of you and you both scrambled to stand. You almost fell over again when you noticed he stuck them in his mouth, closing his eyes briefly as he cleaned them off. He blinked and looked at you. “Remember what I said, darlin’.”
You nodded, too stunned to speak. You both took a moment to fix your clothes and by the time the elevator reached the 15th floor, you assumed you were more or less presentable, even if your breathing was still a bit fast and you could feel the evidence of what you’d done in your underwear.
Joel’s cock was still hard in his jeans, too. You tried not to stare at it.
Just before the elevator opened, he leaned into you and placed his hand on your lower back. “Pick you up at 7?” he asked, voice low.
summary: You loved playing in the orchestra, but when you needed a change, you started busking at a few places around town just for fun. You weren't expecting the attractive man that stopped to listen. Or his smile.
a/n: happy birthday to my amazing friend and the best beta reader, @katareyoudrilling!! you are busy playing your violin right now, at this very moment, performing Holst's Planets, which I know must be amazing. so I hope you like this little treat when you get back. I'm so, so glad we met on here and so happy to have you as a friend. 🧡🥰 also shout out to @secretelephanttattoo who prompted me with what became the original version of this idea almost a year ago! and thank you to @hauntedhowlett for reading this and reassuring me since I obviously couldn't ask Katie. lol
tags/warnings: flirting, fluff, meet cute, busking, my attempt at sounding smart about music and playing violin, Katie I did my best lol, coffee mention, a teensy bit of angst/worry, touching, kissing, reader is a professional musician but no description otherwise
...
It was Tuesday, so you were at your spot near the Archives stop. Not inside the metro, since they could be a bit picky about that, but just outside. It was a good spot — you usually caught the suits going to work and the tourists heading for the National Mall or a museum. On Tuesday mornings it was busy but not so busy that you had to compete with other musicians.
You’d been playing for about 30 minutes when you saw him. You tried not to smile when you caught the angle of his shoulders out of the corner of your eye.
Him, the reason you’d been thinking about coming to this spot more than twice a week, even though it didn’t fit in your hectic schedule of rehearsals and performances. You’d only started busking a couple of months before, dying for something different, to play something different.
He was tall with dark hair and an absurdly handsome face. He was clearly a fed – he always wore a suit, for one, and he walked like the rest of them. Like he had somewhere to be but he didn’t necessarily want to go there. Blank face, steady gait.
Broad shoulders.
You decided weeks ago that he was probably with the bureau, just going by the suit and the direction he turned out of the station. But he was definitely the hottest agent you’d ever seen. He didn’t look like an agent, otherwise — were any other agents this attractive?
And then there was the way he smiled whenever he stopped to listen to you play.
You’d noticed, a couple of weeks back, that he always seemed to walk by whenever you were there. And he would always stop for at least a few minutes to listen and smile and distract you from your music.
On that Tuesday you were just starting up the Indiana Jones theme song — you liked to throw in a few crowd pleasers, of course, and this one always caught people’s attention — when he appeared at the top of the stairs to the station. You’d also noticed that he seemed to stay longer when you were playing pieces from movie scores, so you had added a couple more to your repertoire.
You refused to stare, but you tracked him as he got closer and slowed to a stop to your right. He joined the small crowd that had stopped to listen and you smiled to yourself. You could feel his eyes on you as you played and you fought a shiver.
Like always, he watched and smiled and clapped when you finished. And then he dropped some change in your open violin case and turned to walk away.
As he turned, he caught your eye, and you felt the moment stretch around you.
He winked.
…
The following Thursday you noticed something new — he appeared at the top of the stairs about 6 minutes earlier than usual, as if he’d caught an earlier train.
You just noted it, at the time, nothing more than a curious change in his schedule. Maybe he had an early meeting? But then on the following Tuesday he did it again, and on the Thursday after that.
As always, he seemed to really enjoy your music. He tapped his foot during “Fly Me to the Moon” and laughed when two little girls danced to “Let It Go.” (You didn’t let your eyes linger on how his laugh lit up his face.) He even seemed to appreciate the classical pieces that you knew many of your listeners couldn’t name. And each time, he stayed longer to listen, only turning to leave at his usual time. As if he’d gotten an earlier train just so he could stay longer.
Your entire face turned hot every time you thought about it. That couldn’t be it, right? An earlier train, just to listen to me? You turned it over in your mind while sitting on the train yourself and in rehearsal and at home.
But whatever the reason, he did stay and smile and listen to you play, every time.
…
One Thursday morning, about two weeks after he changed his schedule, he didn’t appear at all.
When he didn’t come up the stairs at the new, earlier time, you shrugged, mentally. But when he didn’t appear at his previous normal time, or any time after that, you started to worry.
Maybe he’s sick? you wondered as you gently put away your violin, much later than usual. You might have stayed, waiting to see if he would appear, but you couldn’t push it any longer and make it home before rehearsal. Maybe he has a day off. You couldn’t stop yourself from running down the list of options in your mind as you started to walk towards the metro.
Maybe he got a new job and I’ll never see him again? You bit your lip, brows furrowed.
But what could you do? You didn’t even know this guy, outside of your weeks-long habit of making eye contact twice a week. Steady eye contact that made you shiver and turn warm and smile, when you remembered it later, but nothing more than that.
Still, you worried about it all weekend. You even told your best friend, who already knew about your “hot FBI guy,” and who told you, “I mean, there’s nothing you can do about it until Tuesday.”
Thanks, Mari.
So, you worried.
On Tuesday you woke up early, already jittery with nerves. Would he be back? You wished the question hadn’t plagued you all weekend, but it had.
You packed your bag and thermos of tea and headed for the metro with your violin. You knew you would be there about half an hour earlier than normal, but you couldn’t stand to be in your apartment for even another minute.
The crowd was a bit more sparse so early in the morning, but you quickly set up in your usual spot outside of the Archives station. You did a short warm up to get ready.
And then you took a deep breath, and began to play.
Immediately, you felt a bit more at ease – concentrating on the music helped. You’d made it through two pieces and were feeling much more relaxed when you were startled by a cough to your right.
You jumped a little and your bow made a little squeaking noise where you held it against the strings. You winced as you turned.
It was him.
He smiled and waved and you felt yourself begin to smile back. You spoke before you consciously decided to, and exclaimed, “you’re back!’
His smile widened and he ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Yeah,” he said, and you blinked. His voice was very deep and warm. “I was sick last week. You… you noticed?” he asked, and looked at you with his head still ducked. It was very cute.
You felt your face get warm, realizing what you’d given away. “Of course,” you said, deciding to lean into it. You looked around and saw that the rest of your small crowd had drifted away, so you stepped closer. “I mean, you’re a regular.” You smiled and tilted your head.
He stepped closer, too. He was looking up at you now. “Do you have many regulars?” He looked hopeful. It was a very cute look on him.
You shook your head, laughing. “You know, I do have a few. But only one that I look for every morning.”
He started to grin. “Just one?”
You bit your lip and nodded. “I might keep an eye on the exit over there while I’m playing, you know.”
“I uh…” he laughed, looking a bit sheepish. “I might have started getting up earlier, so I could be here longer.”
You grinned at him. I knew it. “I might have noticed.”
For a moment you just smiled at each other. He cleared his throat and held out his hand. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”
You looked down at your hands, which were holding your violin and your bow.
“Oh! Sorry,” he started to drop his hand, but you quickly transferred your bow to your other hand, gently holding both in your fingers. You held out your hand and introduced yourself.
He slid his hand into yours, and you couldn’t help but notice it was warm, and big. You shivered.
“Nice to meet you,” he murmured, not letting go of your hand. “Do you think I could buy you a coffee sometime?” He squeezed your hand gently.
You smiled. “You’re early today,” you said, voice teasing. “How about now?”
He grinned and nodded. “Now is great.”
You slipped your hand out of his, immediately wishing you hadn’t. But you turned to pack up your violin. “You know,” you said, looking at him over your shoulder, “I was hoping you’d talk to me, sometime.”
Marcus was still smiling. “I wanted to,” he said, a bit wistful. “I didn’t want to bother you, if I was just some guy to you. Thought maybe it was just me that couldn’t keep my eyes off of the pretty violin player every morning.”
You turned back to your violin case, grinning. “You didn’t notice how I kept sneaking glances at the hot guy in the suit? The one who actually seemed to appreciate the music?”
You stood and turned, and found him suddenly much closer. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. “I might have. And I do. You play beautifully, you know. Just didn’t want to assume anything.” He looked down at your bag. “You ready?”
Nodding, you let him take your hand and lace your fingers together. “Let’s go.”
He led you to a cute coffee shop just around the corner. “I usually stop in here on my way to work, but lately I haven’t had time.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him as he held the door open. “No?”
He smiled. “I might have been staying and listening until the last possible moment, before I would be late to work.”
“Marcus,” you said, voice serious. “Have you been skipping your morning coffee to listen to me play?”
He laughed. “Maybe. Is that weird?”
You shook your head, smiling, as you stepped towards the counter. “I’m honored,” you said, mock serious, and he laughed again. He was so lovely when he laughed, you wanted to make him laugh again. “But really, how have you been dealing without coffee?”
He smirked. “Well, it’s been tough,” he said, matching your mock serious tone. “But worth it.”
Your face warmed again as you turned to order. Marcus bought both of your coffees before you could stop him. “I’ll get the next one,” you said, and he turned to look at you.
“Next one?” he asked, smiling. “You’d do this again?”
“What, you wouldn’t?” You asked, teasing.
He picked up your coffees and nodded towards an empty table by the window. “Oh I would,” he said, sounding sure. “Just happy to hear you would, too.”
Over coffee you learned you’d been right – he was an FBI agent – but you never would have guessed what he focused on. “Art crimes, huh?”
He nodded. “I know, it’s not the usual thing.”
You shrugged. “Not sure I know much about it, either way. But it sounds interesting. Did you study art or something else related to being an agent? Wait, what do agents study?”
Marcus laughed and you let your eyes trace over his eye crinkles. Cute. “I studied art history, but yeah, agents study a lot of things. And you studied music?”
You nodded. You told him a little bit about the orchestra you played with, and the shows you were doing.
“Could I…” he looked hesitant. “I’d love to come to a show. If that’s alright?”
You grinned. “I’d love for you to come to a show, Marcus.”
He looked down at his watch and frowned. He sighed. “I better head in, before I’m late. I wish I could stay longer. Could I take you to dinner? Maybe this weekend?”
You shook your head, but teased him, “Marcus, I said I’m paying next time. So I’ll take you to dinner.” You raised your eyebrows and he laughed again, looking relieved. You gave him your number and smiled when he texted you his.
“Alright. Saturday?” He stood and reached out to help you up from your chair.
“I’d love to.”
Outside on the sidewalk, he hesitated again. “I’m glad we finally talked. I…” he ducked his head, looking shy again. “I wondered if you would notice I wasn’t there when I was sick.”
You stepped closer and slipped your hand into his again. “I wondered if you would be back.”
He looked surprised. “Of course,” he said, eyes tracing over your face. “I couldn’t stay away.”
You decided then that you didn’t want to wait for your dinner date. You leaned forward and brushed your lips lightly over his. You felt him gasp, but before you could pull away, suddenly unsure, his hand came up to cup your jaw. He kissed you again, firmer this time.
“I’ve been wanting to do that,” Marcus murmured, lips moving against yours. His thumb traced your cheek.
“Me too,” you said, pushing forward to kiss him again.
He stepped back, but it was clear he didn’t want to. “Saturday?”
“Saturday,” you agreed, and he grinned and squeezed your hand before he let it go. “See you then.”
8 AMAZING Ballet Moments From NBT’s HOTTEST Couple!
(A Pas de Deux Epilogue)
Din Djarin x f!reader | 18+ | 5k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3
summary: The link arrives with a text from Adrian that reads, "👀🩰🔥."
a/n: surprise! it's an epilogue! I wasn't originally planning to write this, but then I got this comment (thank you, @ageappropriatefanperson - I'm answering a few of your questions, lol). And then I was watching a highlights video and... here we are. It was fun to visit these two again. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!! I hope y'all enjoy Sophie and Andre as much as I enjoyed creating them. 🧡
chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, touching, reader sits in Din's lap, cuddling, YouTube video, ballet terms, more links for y'all lol, kissing, fondling, pet names (sweetheart), couch sex, p-in-v sex, dirty talk
...
“What’s that?”
You feel Din come up behind you and lean in over your shoulder. You smile, leaning back against his chest. His arms immediately snake around your waist.
“Adrian sent it to me.” You angle your phone so he can see the title – 8 AMAZING Ballet Moments from NBT’s HOTTEST Couple!
He huffs out a laugh and you feel his chest move against your back. “S’that about us? Are we the hottest couple?”
You nod. “Obviously. Don’t you feel like the hottest couple? I mean, you’re definitely hot.” He laughs again at your teasing and squeezes you. “I was about to watch it. Should I get my computer?”
Din hides his face in your neck and groans. “Yeah ok, I’ll watch it, too.”
You fish your computer out of a pile of Grogu’s drawings on the coffee table and lead Din to the couch. He pulls you down onto his lap, so you settle the laptop on your knees where you can both see it. You find the link on YouTube and take a deep breath.
“Ready?” you ask, and Din sighs.
“Ready,” he says, sounding resigned, and you know it’s because he hates watching himself like this. You start to turn to look at him but he wraps his arms around your waist and presses a soft kiss behind your ear. “I’m ready,” he repeats, voice warmer. You smile as you hit play.
The video begins with a cute animated intro of two people doing ballet (and sometimes falling down and laughing). A scrolling text, like cheerful handwriting, declares, “Sophie and Andre Talk Ballet!”
The camera pans out to two people sitting behind a desk. There are a few cute ballet-themed knick-knacks on the desk, but it’s not cluttered. They both have microphones in front of them. The wall behind them is decorated with posters and art from famous ballets.
The person on the right is wearing a bright blue, fuzzy sweater and matching eyeliner. She has her hair in microbraids that are pulled back into a ponytail.
She speaks first, a cheerful, “hey y’all! I’m Sophie.”
The person on the left has short red hair and freckles. He’s wearing a navy button up that has small white flowers embroidered all over. He repeats her greeting with a broad smile, “and I’m Andre!”
Together, they say, “welcome!”
Sophie continues, “welcome to the next video in our series of amazing ballet moments. We’re really excited about this video because we’ve wanted to make it for a long time.” She turns to look at Andre.
He nods. “Sure did! But we had to wait until the end of the ballet season. It was torture!”
Sophie laughs and agrees. “it really was! But the season is done and now we can say for certain that these are THE 8 amazing ballet moments from…” She trails off and looks expectantly at her co-host.
Andre drums his hands lightly on the desk in front of him. “Drum roll please!”
Sophie smiles and says, brightly, “Nevarro Ballet Theater’s hottest couple!”
Briefly the two hosts disappear as images of you and Din appear on screen.
You recognize it immediately. It’s a pretty popular still from Kuiil’s pas de deux, with him holding you in the air. You’re looking at each other, though, and Din has a tiny smile on his face.
It’s one of your favorites, too. Din presses a kiss into your neck and you know he agrees.
The image of you and Din moves backwards and becomes part of the background behind the two hosts.
Sophie continues, “ever since we had confirmation that these two are dating back in January, which, oh my god! That’s so perfect!” She makes a high pitched noise that makes Din groan behind you and you laugh. ‘Ever since then, we’ve wanted to make this video.”
Andre nods and waves his hand in the air. “That’s right! But we wanted to wait until the end of the season to see Giselle. And spoiler alert, Giselle is definitely in the top 8.”
You tilt your head against Din’s, thinking about Giselle and smiling. You’re glad it made the top 8.
Sophie grins at her co-host. “Of course! So we’re going to share our favorite moments from these two from the last year and a half, since that’s about when Din Djarin joined NBT.”
They continue on to give a little more information about the two of you and your histories with NBT and CBC. You turn your head slightly and press your smile into Din’s hair. You know he’s thinking of his first few months at NBT, too, from the way his arms tighten just a bit and pull you closer to his chest.
“Alright, you know the drill – we’ll countdown from 8 to our number 1, and we’ll tell you why we chose each moment.” Andre winks at the camera. “Let us know what you think in the comments!”
A banner unfurls across the screen that says “#8 - Nutcracker.”
“That’s right,” Andre says, “our first - or last? - moment is this year’s Nutcracker!”
Sophie nods. “This was Din’s first year doing Nutcracker with NBT, since he joined just before the holiday season last season and wasn’t in the show.”
Andre points at the camera. “And he did not disappoint! Now, we all know the Russian dance, also called Trepak. It’s tough, and fast, and hell on the knees. It’s usually a very specific bit of choreography with very few changes. But Din really made it look easy and new. I mean, of course he did, we’ve seen him jump!”
“We all have, and what was especially interesting this year was that they turned parts of it into more of a solo to really showcase how he can fly.”
Andre nodded. “Here’s a clip of our favorite part.”
You elbow him when the clip starts because you just know he’s hidden his face again. The short clip that plays is of Din doing the flying barrel turns, and then it cuts to his leaps in second position. He groans into your neck and you laugh.
“Seriously, y’all, I don’t know that I’ve seen someone hit those jumps that well, like, ever.” Sophie sighs.
“And did you see how high he jumped? And that extension? The lines of his arms?” Andre sighed, too, and then they both laughed. “He’s amazing!”
“But so is his partner, who danced the lead in Marzipan for the second time this year.” A picture of you in Marzipan appears behind Sophie’s head.
“And she freaking killed it,” Andre says, slapping his hands on the table. “Last year was good, but this year was great. Marzipan is tricky because the lead has to be hitting different beats than the rest of the dancers, and sort of leading them at the same time. And she really blew us away. I mean, those turns?” He looks at Sophie, who nods. “Just watch.”
You feel Din’s head come up and it makes you laugh. He’s more than willing to watch you dance, of course. The clip is of a moment towards the end of Marzipan, where you’re doing turns center stage. You feel Din sigh behind you and he murmurs, “gorgeous,” into your hair. It reminds you of when he complimented you, way back at the beginning, when you first met. You turn to kiss his cheek.
“Amazing, right?” Sophie asks, and Andre nods. “So that’s our first moment. And for the second....”
Another banner unfurls across the screen that reads, “#7 - THE Bayadère solo.”’
Sophie spreads her hands out and says, “now, we couldn’t do this list justice if we didn’t feature some truly impressive solo moments from each half of our favorite pair.”
Andre nods. “We have more of them together, but in what world could we leave this one out? And you’ll see the rest coming up.”
Sophie leans towards the camera with a serious look on her face, and the camera zooms in on her. “And we know you all know this one! We could. Not. Stop. Talking about it when it happened, because it’s just that good. Back when he first joined NBT, Din did a medley of three of Solor’s variations from different versions of La Bayadère, all in a row, in a mixed program.”
She leans back and the camera pans out to show Andre fanning himself. “I still can’t believe he did this. Three variations from one of the hardest roles, and all in a row? No breaks?” Andre slams his hand into his fist. “It was a statement.”
Sophie nods. “It was honestly the biggest and best fuck you to CBC that anyone could have asked for, after his dramatic exit. It was hey, look what you let slip through your fingers! And boy did they fumble huge here.”
“Yes!” Andre agrees. “And we did a whole video on that that we’ll link below. But back to the solos — from the moment the lights came up and he hit that first double cabriolet, it was like time stopped. He smashed it. Just completely owned these variations.”
“We almost couldn’t choose a favorite part, but we had to go with the double assemblé turns. First, they are crisp and clean and perfect. Second, they are part of the third variation out of three that he did with no breaks. Third, he does like 7 of them in a row. That’s wild.”
“Wild!” Andre almost shouts. “Just… just watch.”
You reach up to grab Din’s chin to make him watch, and turn to whisper in his ear, “I was standing in the wings watching this, mesmerized.” His arms tighten around your waist and you grin. “I mean, at the time I didn’t know yet – I was still worried about dancing with you. But you were beautiful.”
You know he doesn’t like it when you say things like that about yourself, and as always he tucks himself around you tighter and shakes his head.
“I know, Din, I don’t think like that anymore.” You cut off his protests with a kiss, and he responds with interest.
By the time you break away and turn back to the video, they’re already talking about moment #6.
“...and that’s why we love her portrayal of Hermia.” Sophie has her hands clasped in front of her chest.
“Its technically and artistically beautiful, of course, but the feeling!” Andre slumps dramatically over the table. “How does she do it? We could feel how tormented the character was just from the angle of her shoulders, I swear. Take a look.”
It’s a clip of your Hermia variation from Midsummer, from the year Din joined NBT. He sighs and presses a smile into your cheek. “Beautiful,” he says, and then presses a line of kisses down your neck.
“Honestly it’s my favorite interpretation of Hermia, probably ever,” Sophie says. “It’s no surprise to us that she finally made principal this year!” You turn to try to hide your face in Din’s neck but he chuckles and kisses you instead.
“And our next moment brings our two favorites back together,” Andre says, and a banner unfurls that reads, “#5 - Raindrops.”
You’re surprised, and kind of pleased. Raindrops was Jee’s fall premiere, her brand new ballet, from this last NBT season. It was an ensemble ballet, and very contemporary, and you and Din had been one of three main pairs.
“If you’ve been here a while, you know we loved this new ballet and we hope it sticks around in NBT’s repertoire. It is so, so beautiful!” Andre sighs a bit dreamily. “And we loved the way the choreography played to the strengths of each couple.”
Sophie nods. “We’ll link our whole video on Raindrops below. But right now we want to focus on the final duet, danced by our favorite pair. The whole ballet creates such an interesting world of movement that echoes rainfall, but these two really brought it home with this part.”
Andre sweeps his left arm out. “I don’t know how they did it, but it feels like the calm after a rainstorm. Just watch.”
You feel Din looking at this one, and you know he’s watching you on screen. You suppose that’s only fair, since you’re watching him. Jee had really blown everyone away with this choreography and you were looking forward to doing it again. Din hums contentedly as the Din on screen lifts you and you smile.
“Ugh, it’s so gorgeous,” Sophie says, resting her chin in her hands. “I don’t even know what I want to say.”
“Sounds like it’s time for our next moment!” Andre laughs. The banner that unfurls on the screen reads, “#4 - La Bayadère (Again).”
“We were both surprised and not surprised when the fall schedule was released for NBT,” Andre says, raising his hands. He lifts his right hand and says, “surprised, because they’ve never done La Bayadère before.” He lifts his left hand and tilts his head. “Not surprised, because we all saw what Din can do with it in his first NBT performance.”
Sophie nods. “And we knew it would be amazing when we saw who was cast as Nikiya.” A picture appears on screen of the two of you dancing together as Solor and Nikiya. “This was an ambitious addition for NBT and wow did they knock it out of the park!”
“He brought all of that power and grace we saw in the solos,” Andre continues, “and she brought a deep emotionality to the technical performance Nikiya requires that really blew us away. She more than deserved the promotion to principal and this just shows that.”
“They’re right.” Din’s mouth tickled your neck as he whispers against it and you shiver. “Shit, you were so amazing as Nikiya.”
He had told you that many times during the rehearsals and the show itself but the praise still made you squirm in his lap.
“THE moment we chose is from the end of act 2, Nikiya’s death scene. Ugh it’s so good and so freaking sad!” Sophie cups her face with her hands. “I can’t take it.”
Andre reaches over and they briefly hold hands. “I cried! We both cried! Her control - immaculate. His emotions - overflowing yet viciously contained.”
Sophie is nodding along. “Yes, they danced it so beautifully, and their skill really really shone here. And the feeling!”
Andre puts a hand up to his mouth as if to whisper to the audience. “And look, I know a lot of you started to ship them after a moment we’ll mention later,” — Sophie interrupts to shout “no spoilers!” — “but I think this performance alone launched a thousand ships.”
Sophie laughs. “And we’ll show you why — just look at how they look at each other!”
The clip that plays showcases a lot of your skill, it’s true, but also the longing looks you and Din had to give each other in this scene.
“I want to say we were just acting,” you say, laughing, “but I can’t blame them for thinking we were in love already, when we actually were.”
Din nips at your neck and you yelp. He laughs. “Anyone with eyes can see how I feel when I look at you, sweetheart. And he’s supposed to be in love with her. I had a lot of personal experience to draw on.”
You turn to kiss him, then, because what else would you do? You miss the rest of the commentary about La Bayadère, lost in Din.
But then they capture your attention again.
“And for our next moment…” Andre says, and the banner unfurls to reveal, “#3 - THE rehearsal.”
“Ok, we know you’ve all seen it,” Sophie says, shrugging. “Everyone has! It’s still amazing.”
“Oh no,” Din groans, hiding his face in your neck. You can’t help but laugh. You reach up and bury your hand in his curls, trying to soothe him.
Andre winks at the camera. “It’s so, so good. And you know what we’re talking about — THE rehearsal.”
Sophie sighs. “Just let me say again, thank you to whoever filmed this and decided to share it with the world.”
Din is grumbling against your shoulder and you’re pretty sure you hear a muffled Adrian. You shake your head, smiling. Adrian had put it on his IG, sure, but that had been it. He hadn’t meant for it to go viral. Peli had teased Din about that for weeks.
“It’s the famous moment from January of this year, when we got a little sneaky behind-the-scenes look at an NBT rehearsal,” Andre says. “Later we all figured out that it was the beginning of rehearsals for Giselle. But at the time it was a mystery, and, well. Let’s just play the clip.”
Sophie nods. “Yes! I want to watch it again. And again.”
You know what’s coming before the clip starts. It’s clearly footage from a phone, snuck around the corner and into a rehearsal space through an open door. You even see the door jamb at first.
In the center of the video are you and Din. You leap through the air and he catches you, grinning. It’s a grin he rarely shows in public but the full force of it is trained on you. You’re laughing as he catches you and flips you upright. The two of you lean into each other and giggle, clearly amused by how learning this particular lift is going. You remember that day — you couldn’t stop laughing, wrapped up in each other and how fun it is to try something new if he’s doing it with you.
The cameraman (Adrian, your brain supplies) hushes someone off screen. At the same moment, you rise up on your toes and press a quick kiss to Din’s mouth.
You feel him sigh behind you and you snuggle closer.
On screen you start to move away, ready to practice again, but he pulls you back into another kiss.
The video cuts out there, and you know it’s because Adrian didn’t actually want footage of you making out. And you did make out, you remember, for quite a while after that.
“And that’s how we all found out our ship was real! The hottest couple is real,” Andre laughs. “They are so freaking cute together.”
Sophie nods. “I love seeing a little peek into how they work on lifts. And the kiss!” She pretends to swoon, grinning. “So I hope they don’t mind but damn do we love that video.”
“Two more,” Adrian says, “and I bet you know what they are. But which one is number one?”
Sophie drums on the table as the next banner unfurls, and it says, “#2 - Giselle.”
“We told you it would be in the list and here it is!” Andre gestures widely with a smile. “NBT did a longer run of Giselle and so our two favs were not the only ones to dance the roles of Giselle and Albrecht. And everyone did an amazing job.”
Sophie nods. “But as we all know by now, these two have something special. And you could really feel it in the way he danced Albrecht. It’s a difficult, taxing, emotional role. We already did a video comparing his performances as Albrecht at NBT and CBC, which we’ll link below.”
Andre sighs. “He is so, so good in this role. We knew he would be, but damn. He has grown so much as a dancer since joining NBT — not technically, but emotionally. His first Albrecht was great, technically perfect in that usual CBC way. But this one? This one made me cry.”
“Exactly,” Sophie agrees. “He really hit another level with his performances this year with NBT and this was the high point. And he was already starting from such a high level!”
“And then our Giselle!” Andre slumps dramatically in his seat. “She blew us away. That is such a challenging role, and she didn’t just nail it. I feel like because of her performance I understand the ballet better now. And I’ve seen it approximately 1 million times.”
“Here, we’ll show you what we mean,” Sophie says, and the clip starts.
Your face is warm from the compliments. They show two clips - one of Giselle’s descent into madness, and one of Albrecht dancing for his life. Din seems to have resigned himself to watching, but you know he’s enjoying it when he nudges his head against yours.
“Seriously,” Sophie says when the clips end. “How? Their range! And wow what a difference from CBC’s Giselle for Din.”
Andre nods. “They showed us what they’re made of this year. And it was amazing.”
“And, one more! Our absolute favorite, forever…” Sophie winks at the camera.
A banner unfurls that reads, “#1 - THE pas de deux.”
“THE pas!” Adrian and Sophie say in unison, grinning.
Then Sophie says, “ok well first, we already did a whole video on this pas de deux. We’ll link it below. But my god, this pas!”
Andre has a dreamy look in his eye. “They’ve performed it twice — once in last year’s anniversary gala, and once in the mixed program that opened this year’s fall season.”
“It is a true tour de force of technical skill, strength, and emotional connection. These two made magic on stage and somehow did it even better the second time.”
“It’s true,” Andre agrees. “I get chills just thinking about it. It’s not often you get to see two true masters of their art make something new together like this. To watch them truly create something wonderful together. But our favorite moment — after much deliberation — is from the first time they performed it, and from the 3rd movement.”
“It’s the famous one where they dance around each other, and then she leaps into his arms and gets lifted over his head.” Sophie shrugs. “Look, it’s famous for a reason! It’s gorgeous and emotional and a linchpin for the entire ballet, and for their character development in the story they create over the three parts.”
“It was honestly hard to believe, watching it at the time, that Din hadn’t been at NBT forever. That they’d only just met a few months before.” Andre makes an exaggerated confused face. “Like, how?”
Sophie smirks at him. “Well, now we have more info…”
“And we know they’re together,” Andre laughs. “I like to think they fell in love working on this pas. We’ll probably never know for sure, but it would be such an amazing love story. And back then we had no idea!” You feel Din laugh into your neck and you know he’s thinking what you’re thinking – if only they knew!
Sophie reaches over and pats his hand. “Ok, ok, enough from us, let’s play the clip.”
Din looks up with no prompting this time. You both love Kuiil’s pas de deux and couldn’t hide it if you tried.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice almost a growl, as you launch yourself towards him on the screen. “Beautiful.” He lifts one hand and turns your chin so he can catch your mouth in a kiss.
This kiss is not like the others you’ve shared while watching this video – it’s immediately hotter. Din teases at your mouth with his tongue and then slips inside when you gasp.
Before you can protest – not that you would – Din reaches forward and closes the laptop, cutting off the video mid-word. He places it on the floor quickly and then uses that hand to tug you back into a kiss.
You sink into it happily. You wondered sometimes if being with him would ever stop feeling like this. At this point, you doubt it.
Without breaking the kiss, Din grabs your hips and guides you to turn until you’re straddling his lap on the couch. His hands are big and warm on your hips and you sigh into his mouth.
“Beautiful,” he repeats, tugging you downwards. You grind against him and realize suddenly that he’s hard.
“Din?” you ask, voice breathy.
“Mm,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you in place, pressed against him. “You know I love watching you dance. And they were right, you’re so fucking amazing.”
You smile against his mouth and slide your hands up his neck and into his hair. “I love you,” you whisper against his mouth. He catches you in another fierce kiss.
“Love you too,” he breathes. Your chest fills with warmth, just like it does every time he says that. He keeps his left arm wrapped around you but begins to slide his right hand around your hip to the front. You’d been having a quiet morning, before the video, and your lounge shorts make it easy for him to slip his hand inside and cup your pussy. “So much.”
You throw your head back and grind down against his hand. You know he can feel how wet you are already. “Please,” you whine, not exactly sure what you’re asking for, but certain he would do anything you ask.
“Let me show you,” Din says, and tugs on your shorts. You lift up and kick them and your underwear off easily. When you sit back down you gasp – somehow, without you noticing, he’d pulled his sweatpants down. Your pussy drops down right against his hard cock.
You move your hips back and forth slowly, reveling in the feeling of his cock sliding through your folds.
“Look at you, sweetheart,” Din growls, voice admiring. He sneaks his hands under your t-shirt and pulls it off. “I love the way you look on my cock.”
You shiver – you can’t help it. You never can, not when Din talks like that. You’re floating. “Din,” you breathe, and he grasps your hips in his big hands.
“I love the way your body moves,” he says leaning forward to press kisses along your collarbones. He nips at your shoulder. “I love the way it moves against mine. Love the line of your neck, the arch of your back.” He runs his tongue up your neck and sweeps his hand up your spine until he can grip the back of your neck. “Love the curve of your hips and the strength of your thighs.” He grasps your thigh with his free hand, opening your hips even wider. “Love the way our bodies move together.”
Din thrusts upwards and you gasp as the head of his cock nudges your clit.
“Fuck me,” you say, voice firm. You realize your eyes are closed and blink them open to look at him. He’s looking up at you with hungry eyes, mouth open. “Please, Din.”
He smiles at you, and you trace the shape of it with your eyes.
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he promises as he nudges at your hip to lift upwards. You find the right position together easily – your bodies know each other so well, now, it’s effortless.
His cock notches at your entrance and his grip on the back of your neck gets firmer. “Look at me,” he demands, and you meet his eyes as you slowly and steadily sink down onto his cock.
When your hips meet his again, you realize you’re both panting, mouths open, staring at each other.
Then he smiles.
Din tugs you forward into a kiss with his grip on your neck. As his hips thrust upwards, his tongue sweeps into your mouth and you moan.
He guides your hips upwards and sets a devastating pace that has you dropping your forehead on his shoulder, focusing on your breathing. It feels so good, it always feels so good. He knows just how to fuck you and he knows it.
“Just like that,” he says in your ear, voice low. “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” He thrusts upwards again and you whimper. “Do you feel it? How perfectly we fit together?”
You nod against his shoulder and he kisses your ear.
“You always feel so fucking good,” he says, and you feel his hips stutter. Your bodies are so attuned to each other, it’s so easy for you to read how he’s getting close. And so are you.
It’s gathering down at the base of your spine, a heat that licks upwards and begins to fill every inch of you.
“Made for me,” Din murmurs into your ear. “And I was made for you.” He squeezes the back of your neck and his next thrust sends the heat spiraling up your spine.
“Din,” you cry, and you feel it wash over you in a wave of heat and pleasure so strong, it was always so fucking strong.
You hear him say your name as he thrusts upwards once, twice more, before stilling.
You’re both breathing hard, and you collapse forward onto him. He releases his grip on your neck and wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest.
“I love you,” he says again, and you smile into his neck.
“Love you, too,” you say. “Should we watch videos of our performances more often?” you tease, and you laugh when he groans.
“Please, no,” he says into your hair, but you can tell he’s teasing.
“Well,” you say, running your hand through his hair. “Maybe not around other people, if this is what happens.”
He laughs, and you grin. “Can’t help it,” he says, squeezing you tighter. “I love watching you.” His cock twitches inside of you and you gasp.
“Din?” you ask, leaning back to look at him.
He’s smirking. “Why don’t you go lie down on the bed, sweetheart,” he says, and then kisses you. “And let me clean you up.”
You know exactly how he plans to clean you up, and you clench around him at the thought. He sucks in a sharp breath that you feel in his chest. “You have to let me up, first,” you say, wiggling in his arms. His cock starts to stiffen inside of you again and you grin.
“Cute,” he murmurs against your lips, kissing you softly. He grasps your hips and thrusts up into you again. “Now get up, sweetheart. I need to clean you up before I get you dirty again.”
You laugh and do as he says.
...
a/n: all the links are in the text above so I don't think I have a ton to say, for once! I tried to pick things that showed what I was talking about, either the steps or the style. I hope you enjoyed it! I missed these two. 🥰
summary: Marcus is fine. He wakes up, goes to work, goes home, goes to sleep, and then does it all over again, just the same, every day. And he's fine.
And then he meets you.
a/n: this is for @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality's writing through the seasons challenge! you can see my prompt and moodboard here (which I borrowed from for the header). I had the prompt ("to live with the delusion of being found") banging around in my head for days and it just screams Marcus to me. thank you @katareyoudrilling for being a wonderful beta, as always.
tags/warnings: angst, fluff, flirting, meet cute, Missy is a fun teenager, texting, coffee shop, touching, I named Miracle Guy Rob and Missy's mom Melissa, self deprecation (Marcus), shifting POV, kissing, grinding, reader has no description other than being a woman and having a job, no age mentioned but just FYI I was imagining her in her 30s or 40s, first date, coffee, pet names (beautiful, sweetheart), some Spanish (mija, calmate)
...
On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.
Missy had picked it out – it wasn’t one of the sounds that came with his phone. She’d used some app to make it play part of “Takin’ Care of Business,” but only on weekdays. He didn’t know how to change it. He probably could have looked it up but he wouldn’t, anyway – she’d said it made her think of him going to work every day. So now it made him think of her, and at least he had that thought, if nothing else, to warm him as he got out of bed.
(His mood never quite matched the song’s, but at least he had a goal to work towards. Right?)
So he woke up when the piano came in, and sighed as he swung his legs off the bed. He sat there for a moment, letting Randy Bachman sing to him about getting to work by nine.
He sighed again.
He turned off the alarm, finally, and stood. He did not look in the mirror on top of his dresser as he walked past it into the bathroom.
Marcus showered and dressed on autopilot, mind almost blank. As always he just picked the next slacks, jacket, and shirt, whatever was at the front of his closet. He’d done this so many times, on so many mornings, it barely required him to be awake.
When the coffee maker beeped, he found himself standing fully dressed in his kitchen without really noticing that he’d walked there. He poured his coffee – just a splash of cream – and sat at the kitchen table to turn on the news. As he let the sound of yet another day wash over him, he texted Missy, smiling when she responded almost instantly.
Marcus
08:27 AM: Good morning, mija
Missy
08:28 AM: dad
08:28 AM: why did I sign up for a 9am dad
08:29 AM: i’m dying
Marcus
8:30 AM: if I’m remembering correctly, you had “big gym plans”
Missy
8:32 AM: never listen to me about gym plans again
8:33 AM: what was I thinkinggggg 😩
Marcus let his amusement at Missy’s texts buoy him to the sink and then out to his car, feeling a bit lighter.
Like his morning routine at home, he barely noticed the drive to work. It was the same as always, and in 17 minutes he was getting out of his parked car at HQ. He felt his shoulders stiffen as he stepped through the double doors into the lobby.
On his floor, Marcus walked to the kitchen first to drop off his lunch. He nodded at the same people he walked past every morning. Then he sat at his desk, answered his emails, and attended some meetings about upcoming missions for the current active teams. On his way to the break room for lunch he nodded at the same people again. After lunch he attended a few more meetings, dodged Rob in the hallway when he asked about Marcus’ weekend, and answered more emails.
At 5pm he stood up from his desk and walked to his car, nodding to the same people again on his way out.
Marcus drove home on autopilot, and 17 minutes later he found himself walking into his kitchen from the garage. He sighed as he opened the fridge, and decided dinner would be leftovers. Again.
Since it was Monday, and Missy wouldn’t be calling, he sat on the couch and turned the TV to the Food Network. He let the soothing sounds of low stakes cooking problems take over and crowd himself out of his own head.
10pm found Marcus in bed, setting his alarm. He got comfortable, stretched out his back, which always seemed to be aching these days, and pointedly did not think about the fact that he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done at work that day.
As he fell asleep, he thought idly that he was glad his time as an active member of the Heroics had taught him how to fall asleep anywhere, if nothing else.
…
On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.
His morning unfolded almost identically to Monday’s, aside from the fact that Missy wasn’t awake yet to respond to his good morning text – her Tuesday classes started at 11:30 and she usually took full advantage of the chance to sleep in.
As he sat and sipped his coffee, something on the news briefly caught his interest, until he realized it was something that had already crossed his desk the week before.
He sighed.
Marcus drove to work – 17 minutes – and went through the motions of another day at the office.
He ate lunch with Rob in his office, which had bigger windows than Marcus’s, and got his regular updates on how Rob’s family was doing (Peter had gone off to college, too, and they commiserated about their kids abandoning them).
Rob, as always, asked Marcus how he was doing with a knowing look that Marcus, as always, pointedly ignored.
“I’m fine,” he said, as always, stabbing a piece of chicken in his tupperware dish with a bit too much force. He was always fine. What else would he be?
Rob eyed him. “Are you?”
Marcus chewed and did not sigh. “Yes, I am,” he promised.
Rob squinted, and Marcus squinted back. That made his friend laugh, at least, and they changed the subject.
Marcus left the office a bit quicker that night and 17 minutes later he walked in the house just as his phone rang.
“Hi, mija,” he said, smiling as he picked up his daughter’s regular Tuesday phone call. She had a long walk home from her last class and usually called him to pass the time.
He let her voice wash over him, soothing the tension that had crept into his shoulders when Rob had squinted at him over lunch. Missy’s updates on her classes and her friends carried him through reheating his leftovers and collapsing on the couch. By the time she had to go he was more relaxed than he’d been in days. (Since her last call, probably, he did not let himself think, and made sure to tell her he loved her before she hung up.)
With a bit more help from the Food Network, Marcus successfully distracted himself until it was time for bed.
…
On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.
He got dressed, went to work, nodded at his coworkers, answered emails, ate lunch, nodded a bit more, and went home.
And through all of it, he was fine.
He was fine.
…
Marcus spent Saturday at home doing chores, and Sunday at the farmer’s market and the grocery store. Missy called once, and Rob texted him to invite him to Corina’s birthday dinner in two weeks. Marcus added it to his calendar and took care not to notice how every other weekend was empty.
…
On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.
He moved automatically from his bed to his bathroom and then to his closet, showering and dressing as usual.
He walked downstairs, thinking idly about the meetings he had scheduled in the morning, and the training he needed to plan for the newest crop of Heroics.
Lost in thought, Marcus stood holding an empty mug in front of his coffee maker for almost 5 minutes before he realized it hadn’t beeped.
He blinked and looked down, confused.
There was no coffee in the pot. He realized he hadn’t smelled the coffee as he usually did while he was getting ready. He looked it over and saw that the setting was right, but there was no coffee.
He frowned.
Poking at the coffee maker revealed that the screen wouldn’t come on, even though it was plugged in. A few more moments of tinkering and he knew – it was broken.
Marcus sighed and checked the time – 8:10 AM. He texted Missy.
Marcus
08:10 AM: Mija, I am sorry to report that after a long and fruitful life, our beloved Mr. Coffee has percolated his last brew. May he rest in peace 🪦
Missy
08:12 AM: nooo!! not Mr. Coffee 💔
08:13 AM: your best friend, taken from us too soon
08:13 AM: how will you go on without him
He smiled. He knew she’d be able to cheer him up.
Marcus
08:15 AM: with difficulty, but I will persevere
Missy
08:17 AM: wait!
08:17 AM: dad you should go to the Bean Box!! I know you never actually did when I told you to
08:18 AM: it’s on your way to work dad you have to go
08:18 AM: it’s the best the coffee is so good
08:19 AM: daaaaaad
Marcus
08:20 AM: ok ok, calmate
08:20 AM: I’m going
Missy
08:22 AM: good! and get a scone to eat in my honor
08:23 AM: I miss those scones
15 minutes later Marcus pulled up in front of the small facade of the Bean Box and couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly the type of place Missy would like – cozy and colorful, with lots of tables stuffed inside and flower boxes overflowing along the bottom of each of the large windows in the front.
When he stepped inside, the smell of freshly roasted coffee filled his nose and he almost stopped in the doorway. It smelled good.
He joined the long line for coffee and scrolled idly on his phone, checking the news, a bit oblivious to his surroundings.
So he was surprised when his phone almost flew out of his hand a few moments later. Someone knocked into him from behind and he stumbled forward. He made some sort of noise as he juggled his phone between his hands, just barely catching it before it could fall.
“Good catch,” an admiring voice said from behind him. He turned as they continued, “Wait, I mean, I’m so sorry about that! Shit.”
Marcus turned around fully and almost froze. A woman was standing there with her hands out, as if she had just caught her balance, grimacing at him. A very beautiful woman, he couldn’t help but notice. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but she was just as beautiful as she’d been a moment before. His eyes darted across her features but he didn’t let himself sweep his gaze over the rest of her. He didn’t want to be a creep.
Suddenly it felt much warmer in the coffee shop, and he was very aware of how close they were standing to each other.
“Shit,” she repeated. “Sorry, again. I tripped,” she pointed at the leg of a chair that was almost in the aisle, “and ended up sort of falling on you. But I’m glad you caught your phone! Nice catch, really.” She looked down and he did, too. She’d dropped her bag and some of her belongings had spilled out. She sighed. “Shit.”
Marcus was crouching before he’d even thought about bending down. “It’s alright,” he said, smiling a bit. “No harm done. Sorry about your stuff.” he gathered some papers and held them out to her. She had followed him down, kneeling as she gathered her things back into her bag.
She took them and said, “wait, you don’t have to do that! I already almost knocked you over, you don't have to help me.”
He shook his head. “Like I said, it’s fine.” He realized she had all of her things but they were both still crouching. He stood and offered her his hand to help her up.
She slid her hand into his easily and his breath caught as she said, “well, thank you, and sorry, again.” Her hand was warm and he ignored the way his fingers tingled at her touch.
She was smiling, then, and Marcus couldn’t help but notice that her smile was very pretty. So pretty he had to drag his eyes away from it, trying not to stare.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this. There was warmth in his chest and a floaty feeling in his stomach and the tips of his fingers were still tingling where they’d touched hers. It felt almost foreign, it had been so long. He felt lightheaded.
“Please don’t worry about it.” He looked around and realized the line had moved a little, so he took a step forward to move with it. She did the same. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”
She gave her name and he smiled. It suited her.
“Can I buy you an apology coffee?” she asked, looking hopeful. “I still feel bad.”
He shook his head, laughing. “No, it’s really ok. I mean it.”
“Hmm,” she hummed, looking suddenly thoughtful and amused. “I’ve never had anyone turn down a free cup of coffee from here before. You must be new.”
Marcus was smiling. He realized he might have been smiling at her the whole time, and felt a bit of wonder at that. “It’s that obvious? I am. New, I mean. My daughter has been telling me to come here for months but this is my first time.”
Her eyebrows raised and he hoped he was imagining the way her expression closed off a bit. But in the next moment he wondered at himself for even thinking of it. Don’t be a fool, he warned himself, even as he felt the urge to explain. She’s just nice, she’s not interested.
“She has good taste,” she said lightly. “What took you so long, then?”
Marcus sighed and gave in to the urge. “It’s just me at home, with her away at college, and I’ve just been torturing my ancient coffee maker by keeping it alive. But it took its last dying breaths this morning and I was forced to venture out for coffee, instead.”
She nodded solemnly. “Rest in peace, ancient coffee maker.” The jokingly serious look on her face reminded him of the way Missy would tease him and he couldn’t help but smile. Again.
Suddenly Marcus realized they’d made it to the front of the line. He wasn’t ready to order, or to stop talking to this beautiful woman who had almost knocked him over.
“I guess I’m up,” he said, as the person in front of him started to pay.
He tried not to watch as she bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment. “Well, Marcus,” she said, voice light again. “I’m here most mornings, so you’ll have to come back and let me know if you liked it.”
Marcus felt his cheeks warm and he smiled. “Ok then. I’ll try.”
For the rest of the day, he found he couldn’t quite wipe that smile off of his face, not even when Rob teased him about it.
…
On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, already smiling.
He glanced at himself in the mirror as he got dressed, and was stunned to see his face looking so relaxed for once.
Is that all it takes? He wondered, amused at his own expense. A bit of flirting and a pretty smile? But it wasn’t just about her pretty smile, he knew that. He’d felt something the day before, something he hadn’t felt in years.
Something he wanted to feel again.
He’d told Missy he liked her coffee shop the night before and promised he’d be back (and that he’d get a scone, this time). So he hurried downstairs and out to his car as soon as he was dressed, ready to find out if he would run into her again.
When he pulled up outside The Bean Box, he took a deep, slow breath. Sure, he was a teensy bit invested. Something about her had kindled a tiny fire in his chest. But he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. He shouldn’t. Right?
But as he stepped inside, he realized he needn’t have worried. She was standing by the door, looking just as stunning as the day before. And she was watching the people coming in.
When she saw him, she grinned. “I knew you’d be back! It’s good, right?”
Marcus nodded as felt a smile stretch across his face. “It is. And I promised my daughter I’d get a scone this time.”
Her eyes lit up. He couldn’t look away. “Oh, you definitely need to get a scone. They’re amazing.”
She stepped into line next to him and he noticed they both kept their bodies turned towards each other as they talked.
“You said she’s in college, right?” She tilted her head at him. Marcus tried not to trace the line of her neck with his eyes. “Is she enjoying it?”
He nodded. “She’s a freshman, but she settled in quick. She’s so independent, I knew she would.” He looked down, smiling as he thought about his daughter, and told her about Missy’s major. “She blows me away, honestly.”
When he looked back up he found her smiling softly at him. “Sounds like she’s got a great dad.”
Marcus smiled and ducked his head again. “I miss her, but it helps that she’s doing so well. And we talk a lot. More than I expected, really. Figured she’d be too busy.”
He felt something warm on his arm and realized she had reached out and lightly rested her hand on his forearm. He blinked and felt a flush rise in his cheeks and start to travel down his neck. He suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing a sweater over his dress shirt, wished he could feel her hand on his skin again.
“I’d say that means you’re definitely a great dad.” She was still smiling. “Take it from me, and my memories of college. I definitely didn’t talk to my parents that much.” She laughed and Marcus felt his breath catch at the way it lit up her features. Her hand was still on his arm and he fought the urge to cover it with his own, to keep it there.
He shook himself and nodded. “It’s been just us for so long. We are pretty close.”
She squeezed his arm lightly and he felt a shiver run up his spine. When her hand fell away, he missed it immediately. “Has it been tough? Adjusting without her.”
Marcus sighed and nodded. “My house is so empty now.” He laughed, ruefully. “I swear, it echoes in there. Never expected I would miss all the noise.”
She nodded. “I’ve got nieces and nephews, and they’re so loud, but I always miss it when they’re gone. It’s not the same, but I get that.”
As the line moved forward, she told him more about her sister’s kids and their antics. Marcus found himself smiling and laughing more than he had outside of a call with Missy in… months. Longer? He didn’t want to think about it, not when he was caught up in feeling like this instead.
By the time they reached the front of the line, he was only wishing they had more time.
She hesitated when it was almost her turn to step up to the counter. “Did you get your coffee maker fixed?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’s fixable, and honestly it deserves to rest. It lived a long life.”
She laughed and then bit her lip. It drew his eyes like a magnet.
“So, will I see you again tomorrow?” She looked hopeful and he wanted so badly to read into it.
“I think so,” he agreed, smiling a bit shyly.
She grinned at him. “Good.”
He carried the memory of that grin with him through the rest of the day, until Rob managed to weasel the whole story out of him over lunch. He told his friend about the way they’d met and how she’d been standing inside the door that morning.
But somehow telling it to someone else had Marcus second guessing the whole thing.
“I’m probably just imagining it.” He was standing with Rob in the hall by his office, coming back from lunch, wishing it had never come up.
“Well, I think you should go back and you should talk to her again.” Rob furrowed his brow at Marcus and poked him in the arm.
Marcus frowned and brushed his hand away. “Rob, she’s probably not interested.”
His friend frowned back, exaggerating the expression until it was comical. “Sounded like she was. Why wouldn’t she be?”
Marcus shook his head and grimaced. “Why would she be? I’m a sad, boring, almost 50-year old man who does nothing but go to work and wait for his daughter to call him. I’m not delusional, ok, I know no one wants to deal with that. Especially not someone like her.”
Rob sighed. He reached out and grabbed Marcus’ shoulders and squeezed. “Marcus. Listen to me. You are a smart, funny, and caring man who loves his daughter and his friends. You deserve more, ok? Tell me you know that.”
Marcus shook his head. “Know what?”
“That it’s not a delusion to think you deserve to be loved.”
“Loved?” Marcus shook his head and tried not to scoff. “We’re just talking about someone I met at a coffee shop.” He ignored that his heart had started to beat just a bit faster when he thought about her, just like it had in The Bean Box when she’d touched his arm. And when she’d smiled at him, looking so hopeful that she’d see him again.
Rob raised his eyebrows. “Someone you can’t stop thinking about, and who flirted with you and got you out of your shell. Right?”
Marcus sighed.
“Marcus,” Rob said, voice careful, and Marcus knew what was coming next. “Is this about Melissa? I–”
He shook his head, interrupting. “No, I mean, not really. You know I’ve gone on dates, well, a while ago. It’s just…” He closed his eyes. “It’s been so long, and since Missy left for college, I’ve just been…” he trailed off, looking for the right word. “Asleep, I think. It’s so quiet. Every day is the same.”
Marcus opened his eyes to find his best friend frowning at him.
“I get it. But it sounds like this shook you out of that routine, right?” Marcus sighed. “Marcus, look, just– promise me you won’t just dismiss it, ok? Give it a chance.”
He wanted to scrub his hands over his eyes but Rob was still holding his shoulders. “How do I do that?”
Rob shrugged. “You’ve already run into her twice. Just keep going back. See what happens.”
Marcus closed his eyes and finally broke out of his friend’s hold. He leaned against the wall behind him. “Ok. Ok, I can do that.”
Rob let out a long breath, clearly relieved. “Good. And just let yourself enjoy it, ok? I know you know how to flirt. Even if you’re rusty.”
Marcus rolled his eyes and shoved Rob back a bit. “Yeah, yeah. I thought you wanted me to go back, huh? Stop making me nervous.”
Rob waved his hand, laughing. “You’re already nervous. But I’ve seen you flirt, man, even if it’s been a minute. I believe in you.”
At least someone did.
…
On Wednesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, and immediately felt nervous.
He paused in front of his closet, actually looking at his clothes for the first time in a long time. Should I wear this shirt? Or a sweater? He hesitated, cursed himself for wasting time, and then grabbed the next shirt and slacks, as always.
He walked straight past his kitchen on his way to his car, only glancing at the clock. 08:14 AM.
Missy
08:17 AM: are you going to the Bean Box again
08:18 AM: have I created a monster
Marcus
08:27 AM: just pulled up
08:27 AM: I’ll eat a scone for you
Missy
08:28 AM: mail me one 🙏
Marcus
08:29 AM: counter offer: I’ll buy you one when you’re home next
Missy
08:29 AM: deal
Marcus was smiling at his phone as he opened the door into the coffee shop, belatedly looking up at his surroundings after he stepped inside. He didn’t see her and started to frown.
“Let me guess – your daughter?”
He turned to find her behind him, leaning against the high table by the door. She gestured at his phone with a smile. He nodded. “How’d you know?”
She stepped closer and looked down at his phone. “You were smiling at it as you walked in.”
He couldn’t help but smile again. “She asked me to mail her a scone.”
She laughed and Marcus watched the way it changed her face. Beautiful.
“Would it survive?” She grinned and fell into step next to him in the line for coffee.
He shook his head. “No, but I promised I’d buy her one next time she’s home.”
“When’s that?”
“Spring break.”
She frowned sympathetically. “So far away! That’s too bad.”
Marcus sighed, agreeing. “It is, but it helps knowing that she’s having such a great time.”
She looked thoughtful and nudged Marcus with her shoulder. He felt himself flush. “You know, you could look up coffee shops near her campus and buy her a gift card or something. Somewhere similar. Probably better than mailing a scone.”
He blinked, surprised. That was a good idea. “I…” he trailed off. “That’s–”
“Sorry,” she interrupted, wincing. “I didn’t mean–”
“No,” he said, not wanting her to apologize. He touched his fingertips lightly to her arm – she was wearing short sleeves, and the touch of his skin against hers deepened his flush. His fingertips started to tingle and he felt his heart start to beat faster in his chest. “I was going to say, that’s a great idea. Thank you.”
She grinned at him and leaned forward, which brought her arm more in contact with his hand. Suddenly he found himself with a light hold on her forearm, gripping it gently. He stroked his thumb across her skin before he even realized what he was doing.
“I was worried I’d overstepped,” she said without moving away from him.
Marcus shook his head, momentarily speechless at the feel of her skin and the knowledge that she hadn’t pulled away.
“No,” he murmured. “I’m definitely going to do that. She’ll love it.”
For a moment he didn’t move, and neither did she. He noticed the line moving out of the corner of his eye but didn’t do anything about it until the person behind them in line cleared their throat.
Startled, he stepped forward, losing contact with her arm. She was still smiling at him as she turned.
“You know,” he said, wishing he could reach out to touch her hand. “I never asked what brings you here every day.”
She hummed. “Well the coffee, of course,” she winked at him, “but I also work from here most mornings. I like the atmosphere, and all of my meetings are in the afternoon.”
He nodded, thinking that sounded nice. “So if I were to keep up my new coffee habit, you’d be here in the mornings?”
She turned towards him then and he leaned closer.
“Yep,” she agreed. “Most days. Maybe you could stick around sometime.” She raised her eyebrows but he sighed.
“I can’t,” he said, looking down. “Have to be in the office.”
Her face fell and he felt something twist inside his chest. She opened her mouth to reply but he interrupted. He didn’t want her to feel like that, not when he was feeling like this.
“Maybe we could,” his voice came out a bit strangled and he cleared his throat. “Maybe we could have dinner sometime instead?”
Marcus watched as her face transformed from disappointed to hopeful. He smiled.
“I’d like that, Marcus.”
…
Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date, it had been so long.
(That was a lie – he just didn’t want to remember, it had gone so badly. But it had been years – he was pretty sure Missy had been in middle school at the time.)
He spent way too long staring at his clothes and trying to ignore Rob’s encouraging texts. He settled on dark jeans and a sweater. When his phone pinged again, he finally looked down to check it.
Rob
(5:37 PM): Corina says wear the dark green sweater
(5:38 PM): I don’t even know which sweater she’s talking about but I assume you do
Marcus looked down and laughed. He had, in fact, chosen the dark green sweater.
Marcus
(5:41 PM): tell her I am and that I had the same idea
Rob
(5:43 PM): she says good choice and have a great time
(5:44 PM): I mean, me too
Marcus smiled as he walked downstairs. He was glad for the support, but he knew he looked good in this sweater. It was one of the few purchases he’d made in recent years just because he liked the way it looked.
He got in the car and headed towards the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. It was a short drive but he could feel himself getting more and more nervous the closer he got.
After he parked, he stopped and took a deep breath. He thought of Melissa, as he’d done quite a bit since he met the beautiful woman in the coffee shop. It had been so long since they’d lost her, and he’d had quite a bit of time to think about dating again. This wasn’t even his first try.
But it always made him a little wistful. He took a moment to think about what she’d say – probably something about how his arms looked in the sweater. The thought made him laugh and shake his head. He got out of the car.
She was waiting by the door, and she was stunning.
…
You tried not to fidget as you stood by the door to the restaurant. It was a place your coworker had recommended, but you’d never been. Your nerves had driven you to arrive ten minutes early and now you had nothing to do but wait, and think of the gorgeous man you were waiting for.
And he really was gorgeous. You’d known that from the moment he’d turned around after you’d almost knocked him over in your favorite coffee shop – a memory that made your cheeks burn, even now, you’d been so embarrassed. He was tall with a jawline that made you want to bite, shoulders that were so broad you needed to get your hands on them, and warm brown eyes that had so much feeling in them, it took your breath away.
And then he’d smiled at you, and helped you with your things. And flirted. And then he’d come back, and kept coming back. For coffee, of course, but also to talk to you.
Every time he walked into The Bean Box, he looked around, looking for you. And when he saw you, his face lit up. You couldn’t help but smile just thinking about it.
How is he single? It was a question you’d been wondering about all week. You figured it was probably because he was a single dad, and his daughter had just gone to college. But at the same time you couldn’t comprehend that no one had locked this gorgeous, thoughtful, funny, caring man down. Their loss, you thought, and smiled again.
At that moment you looked up, and caught sight of Marcus getting out of his car. Your smile stretched into a grin.
“Hello there,” he said, smiling as he walked closer to you. “You look stunning this evening.”
You looked him over and tilted your head. “So do you, in that sweater.”
He blushed and you bit your lip. It was so charming when he did that.
“Ready for dinner?” he asked, and when you nodded he turned to guide you inside. You felt his hand come up to rest on your lower back. It was big and warm, just as warm as it had been when he’d held your arm. You shivered.
The restaurant had a table waiting for you, and you turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He smiled and shrugged. “I called two days ago when you said yes to dinner.”
The table they led you to was cozy – tucked in a corner with a window, a romantic candle flickering in the center. When you sat, you realized a couple of plants hid you from the rest of the room.
“Cozy,” you said, smiling.
Marcus nodded. “My best friend has brought his wife here, says it’s fantastic. And romantic.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, reaching out to nudge his hand where it rested on the table. “Romantic, huh?”
Marcus looked suddenly unsure, which made you slide your hand over his and squeeze. “Is that alright?”
You nodded. “It’s more than alright, Marcus. It’s perfect.”
He smiled again, and the two of you settled into an easy conversation about your weeks, about his daughter, and about your work. It flowed just as comfortably as it had at the coffee shop and you felt the warmth that Marcus had kindled inside of you from the first moment start to burn again. It carried you through dinner.
You watched his face as he talked and couldn’t help but marvel again at how handsome he was. He seemed to notice your focus and smirked a bit. “What?”
“Hmm?” you blinked, eyes snapping back to meet his.
He reached across the table and laced his fingers with yours. “I was just wondering what you were thinking.”
Your face warmed but you wanted to tell him, anyway. “Just got distracted by how handsome you are.”
Marcus blushed again and you grinned. “Really?” he looked doubtful, and you couldn’t have that.
“Oh yes,” you said, leaning towards him. “Not for the first time. You know how hard it was not to stare, in the coffee shop?”
He laughed and picked up your hand. He leaned forward, too, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. You bit your lip at the sensation of his lips against your skin. “Me?” he asked, smiling against your knuckles. “What about you? You’re so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And then you smiled, and well.” He kissed your knuckles again. “Still can’t look away from you, even if I wanted to.”
For a moment you just stared at each other, smiling.
“Marcus,” you started, lifting your fingers to press against his jaw. He held on, but let you turn your hand until you could cup his cheek. “Do you want to come home with me?”
He blinked, clearly surprised. “I–” He swallowed, looking nervous. “It’s been a while, since…” he trailed off. “It’s been a while,” he repeated, smiling shyly.
You traced his cheekbone with your thumb. “There’s no rush,” you promised. You leaned a little closer and he leaned in to meet you. “I just want you to kiss me, Marcus,” you murmured, and watched his pleasure at that idea take over his handsome face. “And then we can just see where it takes us. No rush, no pressure.”
His eyes darkened as he smiled, a new sort of smile you hadn’t seen before. It made you press your thighs together under the table. “No rush,” he repeated, “but I’ve been wanting to kiss you, too,” he said, voice low and warm. He moved to stand. “Let’s go.”
…
Marcus stepped up close behind you at your door, and you smiled at the feeling of his warm body almost touching yours. His hand came to rest on your waist and you shivered.
You finally managed to unlock the door and he followed you in.
So quickly it made your head spin, Marcus turned and pressed you up against the inside of your door. you gasped. His chest was just as broad and firm as you’d thought, and he held you easily in place, right where he wanted you. You marveled at his sudden confidence – it looked very good on him.
“Hi there, beautiful,” he murmured, looking down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” you breathed. Before you could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.
Marcus’s lips were warm, and soft, and his kiss was slow and gentle. It seeped into you and you felt his warmth light you up from the inside.
Your hands found his hips and you tugged him forwards until your bodies were touching from shoulder to knee. He moaned lightly, into your mouth, and suddenly his kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.
It was fierce. Your head was spinning as you opened your mouth to him and felt his tongue stroke along yours.
His thigh came to rest between yours and you shivered.
“Marcus,” you sighed, breaking the kiss. He pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw before he let his head drop to your shoulder.
“You feel perfect against me, you know that?” His voice sounded almost hoarse, and you wrapped your arms around his waist. His sweater was soft and it made you smile. His right hand was flat against the door by your head but his left came up to cup your jaw and neck. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re perfect.”
You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m not perfect,” you laughed.
He shook his head against your shoulder. “Feels pretty perfect.” He thrust his hips forward and pressed his thigh against you more firmly. You moaned.
You felt Marcus huff a small laugh against your shoulder and pulled back to eye him. “What?”
He was smiling. “It’s nothing.” He shook his head as you raised your eyebrow, still confused. “I was just thinking how lucky I am that my coffee machine broke that day. Never would have met you, otherwise.”
You felt your face relax as you smiled back and leaned in for another soft kiss. “Sounded like it was on its last legs, from what you told me.”
He laughed again, and you grinned. “It was. RIP, Mr. Coffee, and thank you for your timely death.”
You hummed. “I like to think I would have found you, anyway. Maybe on another day at the Box.”
Marcus pressed forward and buried his face in your neck again. You felt his soft kisses working their way down to your shoulder and shivered. “Yeah? How?”
You shrugged and he nipped at your shoulder. “Just feels right, you know? I felt it the moment I met you.” You leaned your head to the side and he took advantage, worrying a mark at the spot where it met your shoulder. It made you squirm and his grip on you tightened. “Like I’d found something I’d been looking for, and didn’t even know it.”
He lifted his head again and the look in his eyes made your breath catch in your throat. “I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart. You woke me up when you almost knocked me over.” He grinned, teasing you.
“What do you mean?” You lifted one of your hands and let your fingers trail through his hair.
He leaned into it, smiling. “I’ve been… asleep. Living the same day, over and over again. And then I met you, and it’s like I’m awake for the first time since Missy left. Before that, probably.” He leaned forward and kissed you, gently. “You woke me up,” he repeated. You smiled, surprised and pleased that you’d had such an effect on him, too.
Marcus kissed you again, and for a while after that there wasn’t a lot of talking. You could only manage his name, and please, and don’t stop.
Din Djarin x f!reader | 6.3k | 18+ | main masterlist | ao3
summary: Din won't let himself remember.
a/n: hi everything is terrible right now and I channeled that into some angst! This is for @almostfoxglove's let's write some angst challenge -- PLEASE go look at the amazing moodboard Freya made me. I borrowed two of the images for the header. and yes, the prompt is "avoid mementos." 👀 thank you @katareyoudrilling for beta-ing and being generally amazing!
tags/warnings: angst, Razor crest destruction, flirting, flirting with intent, memories, touching, holding hands, banter, smut - fondling, groping, grinding, manhandling, fingering, p-in-v sex, praising (mesh’la, good girl), being restrained, cuddling, i'm not lying about the angst, fyi
...
Din still dreamed of it sometimes.
It had taken him a moment to really understand the truth when it happened. He’d been panicked, out of his mind with worry for Grogu. When Fett had blown the Storm Troopers out of the sky, he’d felt, for a brief moment, like he could breathe. Ready to run back up the hill and grab his kid.
And then he’d turned around and lost everything else he had in the blink of an eye.
He’d run forward a few steps, wanting to stop it, but what could he have done? He’d stood there, frozen. Staring. It had felt incomprehensible then and it still did, sometimes. The Crest, gone? For good? After all the credits, the long days and nights and years, the blood, sweat, and actual tears he’d put into her?
How could she be gone?
He still looked for her in loading bays. He still pictured her anytime he thought about heading home at the end of a long day, anytime someone asked if he had somewhere to stay.
She was his home.
And when she was destroyed, everything he owned was, too. As he pulled the beskar spear and the little silver ball from the wreckage, his gut had wrenched with the knowledge of what he’d lost. His weapons, painstakingly collected and claimed over his years hunting and fighting. His tools and clothes, not necessarily precious, but unmistakably his, perfect for his needs.
Din wasn’t the type of man who kept mementos. Before Grogu, he didn’t have much of anything to keep mementos of. He didn’t have trinkets or souvenirs or keepsakes. He had himself and he had his ship.
But still, he couldn’t help but count the things he’d lost sometimes, especially on nights he couldn’t sleep. He’d lie there, wherever there was for the night, and cycle through the images in his mind. The Crest herself, of course. His weapons. That one rifle he’d favored. His extra cape. His tools. His favorite flightsuit.
Grogu’s hammock.
As he walked the Crest in his mind’s eye, he would picture every corner he’d known so well, every scratch on the floor and dent in the plating. The one ladder rung that listed a bit to the right and the crate with the latch that stuck, that only he knew the trick to get open.
Even after he got Grogu back, he would fall asleep dreaming of the home he lost.
And even then, walking the length of his ship night after night, his mind still shied away from remembering it fully. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – let himself turn his mind’s eye to the darkest corner of his bunk, the one he knew without a doubt he could still remember perfectly, even though he could never quite bring himself to think about it.
The one with the metal strut so perfectly placed, directly in his line of vision when he would lay down to catch what sleep he could.
The one with the metal strut that had the thin length of braided leather twisted and tied around it, and then knotted securely in place. It had been dark brown, the painted design long since worn off, worried between nervous fingers.
It had been yours. And now it was gone.
…
Mando was your favorite customer.
He didn’t come by often – you knew he was busy chasing bounties around the galaxy. That was how you’d met the first time, after all. He’d found his quarry right there in the cantina where you worked on Takodana. You’d watched, intrigued, as an unknown Mandalorian stalked in, tall and menacing. The guy at the end of the bar – the new guy, who had just arrived that day – had taken one look and made to run for it. But the Mandalorian had quickly captured him with some sort of cord that whipped out of his vambrace. He’d easily hefted his quarry over his broad shoulders, nodded to you, and left.
It had all happened so quickly, and the bar had been so busy at the time, you’d had no choice but to put it out of your mind. So you’d been surprised when he came back the next day, and even more surprised when he’d politely asked you where he might find the closest mechanic.
You still remembered how it had felt when he’d stepped up to the bar in front of you. You were intimidated, even though his body language was so different from the first time you saw him. All of the menace and threat he’d carried with him so easily seemed to have disappeared. He was still armored, of course, and the helmet alone was mysterious and intimidating, but he didn’t loom.
“A ship mechanic?” you’d asked, setting down the glass you’d been cleaning. When he nodded, you continued, “the best one around is Taz, down by the shipyard. Tell him I sent you and he won’t overcharge you.” You gave him your name.
The Mandalorian had paused and tilted his head. “Thank you,” he’d said in his low voice, but it sounded like a question.
You remembered smiling when you answered, “that guy you carried off yesterday harassed three of the servers and tried to start a fight with Gareth at the door before you got here. So take it as a thank you for taking out the trash.” And he hadn’t even made a mess while doing it.
His shoulders had twitched, then, and you wondered if he was stifling a laugh. Looking back, you knew that was it, but at the time you hadn’t known him at all, couldn’t read his body language yet.
“Alright,” he said, nodding. “Thank you.” This time it didn’t sound like a question.
You’d offered him a drink but he’d refused. As he started to turn to leave, you’d felt a twinge of disappointment that made you call out, “well, next time, then.”
He’d paused, and turned his head to look back at you over his shoulder. After a pause, he’d said, “we’ll see.” Watching him go, you couldn’t help but notice that his shoulders really were very broad.
He’d been back three weeks later. “On a hunt,” he said, as he slid onto a stool across from you. His quarry wasn’t on Takodana that time, but he’d stopped to refuel and stock up on supplies. It was on his way, he said, but you noticed he was a bit tense as he said it.
You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d thought of you at all, like you’d thought of him (and his shoulders) from time to time.
“Well, I’m glad to see you again. Can I get you a drink this time? I still need to thank you.”
But he shook his head, refusing both the drink and the thanks. “I’ll take something to go. And you did thank me – Taz gave me a discount.”
“Good,” you said, leaning onto your elbows on the bar. “You know, you didn’t give me your name last time.”
He was quiet for a long moment and you felt heat start to creep up your neck, embarrassed. You wanted to take it back, and were wondering what you should say, when finally he said, “call me Mando.”
You nodded, wanting to ask more but not wanting to chase him away. He was so hard to read. “Alright. Mando.”
He lingered a bit, and you found yourself telling him how long you’d been on Takodana (a little over a year) and about the cantina and what you liked about it.
“Do you stop here much?” you asked, but doubted it, since you had never seen him before.
He shook his head. “Not in the Mid Rim much.”
That made sense, with what little you knew about bounty hunting. “Well, make sure you drop by next time. I should be here.”
You’d surprised him with that. He leaned back on his stool and looked you over. “Why?”
There was no rancour in his voice. He seemed genuinely curious.
“Well, why did you come back this time?” You smiled at him and winked, wishing briefly you could tell if he smiled back.
He’d been quiet again, but surprised you with his reply, avoiding your question. “I don’t know when, but if I come back, I’ll stop by.”
You nodded. You were honestly a bit glad the question had gone unanswered – you weren’t sure you could answer it yourself. You just… liked him. Wouldn’t mind seeing him again.
And he did come back a month later, and then two weeks after that. He came to talk to you each time, always taking food to go, never staying long, though he did ask you about your work. You fell into a habit of giving him updates on the local gossip, which seemed to amuse him, if nothing else. And then, three months after you’d first met, he’d come to visit on his way back from a hunt, rather than on his way out.
“Mando!” you greeted, grinning at him. It was early afternoon, so the cantina wasn’t busy. The perfect time for your favorite customer to slide onto the stool across from you and take up all of your attention. “You’re back.” You leaned on the bar across from him and noticed his hand twitched where it rested flat on the bartop.
He said your name and you hoped he didn’t notice the shiver that ran up your spine. His voice was as deep as always. “Finished up with the pucks I had, figured I’d stop for supplies on my way back. And get an update on your noisy neighbors, of course. And that feud in the market.”
The teasing was new. It made your heart rate pick up and you leaned closer. You laced your fingers together, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his hand, which was still lying on the bartop just a few inches from yours. You’d wondered, during his last visit, if he was flirting with you. He’d leaned a little closer to be heard – it had been busier in the cantina – and his gloved fingers had brushed briefly against yours to get your attention. But you worried you were reading into his actions, seeing what you wanted.
Why would he come all the way out here, though – just to talk to you? That couldn’t be right.
“Well, I’m glad to see you,” you said, smiling. “Where were you this time?”
He told you, briefly, explaining that he’d chased four quarries across five planets. It had taken him a bit longer than he expected. He didn’t give you too many details about the hunts themselves, but you were still impressed.
And you couldn’t help but notice that all five planets were in the Outer Rim.
Wherever he was going back to, Takodana was very much not on his way there. It couldn’t be.
A warm feeling started to fill your chest, and you felt your smile grow wider. “That’s impressive, Mando. How do you keep all of them in your ship?”
“Carbon freezer.”
“Of course.” You wanted to ask more but the knowledge that he’d come here, out of his way, was taking up all the space in your mind. Here. To see you? You wanted to hope and were afraid to hope, all at the same time. Should I ask? You didn’t want to scare him away, but oh, you wanted to know.
You had to know.
“Mando,” you said, and you unlaced your fingers, pressing your palms flat against the bartop. “I can’t help but notice something.”
He hummed, helmet tilted down. You wondered if he was as aware of your hands as you were of his.
You listed off the planets he’d mentioned and his helmet snapped back up. You hoped he was meeting your gaze. “Those are all in the Outer Rim.”
He nodded and you watched a bit of tension enter his shoulders.
You started to smile again. “Takodana is Mid Rim.”
He nodded and started to lean just a bit away from you. You didn’t like that.
You slid your hand forward on the bartop, nudging your fingertips gently against his. “Mando, did you really just stop for supplies?”
He was quiet for a moment, and you hoped you hadn’t pushed him too far. But then suddenly he picked up his hand and laced his fingers through yours. His hand was big and his glove was so soft. You felt warmth wash over your body and wondered if he could see the effect he had on you. It felt obvious, written all over your face.
“I do need supplies,” he said, voice low, “but Takodana isn’t exactly on my way, no.”
You’d grinned, then, and squeezed his hand. “I thought I was imagining the flirting.”
Mando shook his head, and leaned closer. Your forehead was almost touching his helmet when he murmured, “no.”
“You know,” you said, voice teasing, tracing his gloved fingers with your free hand, “if you wanted to stay a bit longer, this time, I might know somewhere you could stay the night.”
He was quiet again, and you wondered if somehow you’d still gotten it all wrong. You started to move your hands away from his but he held on, squeezing gently. “The helmet. I– it stays on.”
You looked at him, thinking about how that fit with his secretiveness about his identity and the details of his work. “Alright,” you agreed. “What about the rest of it?”
He shifted in his seat, and you grinned. “The rest of it?” he asked, sounding confused.
You nodded. “Is it just the helmet, or does all of your armor have to stay on? Gotta admit, I can work with that.”
His grip tightened on your hand again and you bit your lip. His helmet tilted downwards and you shivered. “Just the helmet,” he said, voice almost a growl.
“Ok,” you breathed, and you knew he could probably hear your reaction to his voice in your own. “I’ll be done after the dinner rush. Walk me home?”
He nodded. “I’ll go take care of those supplies. But I’ll be back.” Before he stood, his left hand, which to this point had stayed in his lap, appeared above the bartop. He lifted it slowly and ran his thumb lightly along your jaw. “Later,” he promised. Your eyes drifted closed at his gentle touch on your face, and you heard him take a deep breath.
He pulled away, and when you opened your eyes, he was already headed towards the door.
You floated through the rest of your shift, something your coworkers couldn’t help but comment on. You only smiled and shrugged. You couldn’t believe you’d been right – Mando had been coming back just for you. It made your entire body feel warm and tingly, even as you wondered what you could possibly have done to catch his eye like this.
He’d obviously caught yours – how could he not, with that walk, and those shoulders, and those hands, and that competence? Everything about him screamed danger but he’d never turned that on you. He’d been nothing but polite and, later, teasing. Flirting with you.
And you were pretty sure he’d be able to hold you up against a wall and fuck you.
You found yourself holding an overflowing glass under the running sink, staring off into space, just thinking about it. Shaking your head, you started moving again and laughed at yourself. A few more hours, you thought, and you’d find out.
When he came back, about half an hour from the end of your shift, you didn’t see him come in. The cantina was busy, and you were working quickly behind the bar. And then, when you turned away from the drinks you’d just placed in front of another customer, there he was across the bar.
You grinned. “You’re back!” you greeted, echoing yourself from earlier in the day. “I’ll be done soon.”
He nodded and leaned forward on the bar. “I can wait for you outside.”
You shook your head. “No, stay there. It’s busy but I can still talk a little.”
He slid onto a stool and settled in. You turned away to help the customers who were waiting and by the time you got back to him a few minutes later, you noticed that a little space had opened up on either side of him. You quirked an eyebrow.
He shrugged. “People don’t usually want to get too close.”
You smirked at him and winked. “Not all people,” you said, teasing.
Mando tilted his head at you and you had a feeling he was smirking back. “No?”
You leaned in so you wouldn’t have to shout to be heard, and he tilted his helmet towards you to help. It made you smile. “Just leaves more room for someone who might want to get closer.”
You started to pull away, but his hand caught yours. He squeezed gently. “Not afraid of the big, bad bounty hunter?” His voice was still teasing, flirting, but you wondered if he meant it.
You laughed and shook your head. “Afraid? Of the strong, attractive man who took care of an asshole customer and crossed the galaxy just to see me?” You squeezed his hand back and leaned back in. “No, Mando. I’m not afraid of you.” You slipped one of your fingers just under the edge of his glove, brushing lightly against his skin. You were close enough to see his sharp intake of breath.
“How much longer?” he growled, and you grinned.
“Ten minutes,” you promised, and moved away to finish up your shift. You felt his eyes on you the entire time.
When you finally turned back to him, he was watching you with his hands flat on the bartop. You smiled. “Meet me out front?”
He nodded, and silently stood and turned for the door. You watched him go, just for a moment, and then turned to grab your things.
Rana, your fellow bartender, was standing just a few feet away and smirking at you. “Is that your Mando?” they grinned.
You rolled your eyes. “He’s not my Mando.”
“You sure about that?” They shook their head and waved you away. “Go on, don’t keep him waiting.”
You laughed and did as they said. When you stepped outside a moment later, Mando was leaning against the wall of the cantina, looking nonchalant and very attractive. You smiled. “Mando.”
He said your name and straightened up. “Still got a place for me to stay?”
It warmed you a little, that he wanted to check in like that. “Follow me. It’s not far.”
He fell into step beside you, and you noticed he made sure to place himself between you and the path. It made you smile.
The building with the rooms you rented was just around the corner, and you couldn’t resist reaching down to grab Mando’s hand as you turned. “Here,” you said, and bit your lip when he laced his fingers through yours.
You stepped inside the vestibule and reached into your bag for the fob that would open your door with your free hand. As you searched for it, you felt Mando step up behind you. He let go of your hand but before you could even feel disappointed he rested his hands lightly on your hips. You sucked in a sharp breath just as the door finally opened, and he followed you inside.
“Mando–” you started to say something, you weren’t sure what, but before you could you found yourself with your back against your door and a very attractive, strong Mandalorian crowding you against it.
You realized he’d somehow taken off his gloves without you noticing when his bare hand touched your neck, holding you lightly in place. You shivered.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, voice low and gravely. His thumb ran up and down the side of your neck and you found yourself gripping his cape where it bunched around his neck.
“What–” you took a deep breath. “Is it just the helmet? Is there anything else I should know?”
He shook his head and leaned closer. “Just the helmet. Tell me what you want, mesh’la.”
You smiled at him, tracing the lines of his visor with your eyes. “You, Mando. Since the first time I saw you.”
He kicked your legs slightly farther apart and slotted his thigh in between yours. The pressure of his armor against your pussy made you gasp.
“The first time?” he murmured. “When I carried that hu’tuun out of the cantina?” He sounded surprised.
You nodded. “You’re very strong, you know.” He huffed a laugh and it made you grin. “And you came back.”
He nodded and leaned the side of his helmet against your head. His free hand came to rest on your hip and tugged you closer to him. You sighed at the way his thigh pressed tighter against you.
“Mando…” you trailed off when his hand slipped around and gripped the back of your neck. “Why did you come back?”
The hand on your hip began to travel upwards, snaking under your top, and you sighed again.
“You weren’t afraid of me,” he said, voice low. “You thanked me.” His fingers danced higher. “And you wanted me to come back.”
You blinked. “That’s it?”
He laughed again, and it made you smile. “And you’re beautiful. I noticed you the moment I stepped inside, the first time.”
“Really?” you grinned at him, flattered. “And you came back?”
He made a sound under the helmet that you were pretty sure was another laugh. It did something to you, that you could make this man – this warrior — laugh. This time he tugged you away from the wall and started to walk backwards into your apartment. You reached for the light, but he caught your hand and shook his head. The streetlight through your light curtains cast him in shadow. “I told you. People don’t usually want to get closer, when they see me. Never anyone like you.”
You shrugged, letting him lead you forward towards your bed. “Their loss.”
“Your door’s locked?” he asked, coming to a stop next to your door.
“My fob is the only thing that opens it. Why?”
He pulled the strap of your bag over your head. “Taking my armor off.”
You tilted your head. “You don’t have to, you know.”
Mando leaned closer and slipped his hands under your top. “I want to,” he murmured, and slipped it off and over your head.
You found yourself quickly stripped of everything but your smalls, while he still stood fully armored in front of you. You raised your eyebrows. “Need some help?”
He shook his head and reached for his left pauldron. “Faster if I do it.”
You stepped back and sat on the bed, noting that his helmet tracked you. You smiled and leaned back on your hands, stretching out your torso. “See something you like, Mando?”
His armor was disappearing quickly and forming a careful pile on your table. He stared at you the entire time. “Beautiful,” he murmured, down to only his flightsuit. You stood up when his hands moved to the zipper.
“Can I?” you asked, and he nodded. You replaced his hands with yours at the top of the zipper at his neck. You glanced up at his visor, and then back down to your hands.
As you unzipped him, slowly, you gasped. The skin you slowly revealed was golden and warm, and as his chest was revealed to you you felt your face and neck heat.
He was gorgeous. You could see his strength in the lines of his body and cut of his muscles. He was probably in his late 20s, if you had to guess, and in very good shape.
Your hands reached his waist and stopped, smoothing upwards over his torso instead. As soon as you touched him his hands were on you.
He grasped your waist, tugging you closer. When your skin touched his he moaned.
“Please,” you murmured, “touch me, Mando.”
His helmet tilted downward as he watched the path of his hands, smoothing over your back and down to your ass, which he squeezed. You jumped. “Take these off,” he said, tugging on your smalls.
“I will if you will,” you said, smiling.
Mando pulled your smalls down and guided you to sit on the bed. “Off,” he repeated, tugging them down your legs. He tossed them somewhere behind him and fell to his knees between your legs. “Lean back,” he said, voice firm, and you were falling onto the bed before you could think about it.
His shoulders were so broad, you had to open your legs to let him move closer. You knew you were wet, you’d been wet since he teased you in the cantina. Knowing he was looking at you now made you wetter.
You felt his fingers run up your inner thighs and shivered. “Can I make you come, mesh’la?” You shivered and nodded. He hummed in response. “Tell me,” he said, grabbing your hips.
“Yes,” you breathed, bucking slightly under his hands. “Please.”
Mando hummed and ran his fingers lightly over your pussy. You bucked your hips forward again, but his left forearm came down across your hips like a bar. “Easy,” he said, and his voice was so deep.
You felt two of his thick fingers open you up to him and gasped. You looked down and saw that his visor was fixed on the view in front of him.
He ran his fingers lightly from your clit to your entrance. “So wet,” he murmured. “For me?”
You nodded, letting your head fall back against the bed. “Since you touched me in the cantina,” you breathed, and he hummed again.
“Good girl.” HIs fingers began to circle your entrance as his thumb came to rest against your clit, and you moaned.
It took your breath away, how quickly he worked you up. Maybe it was the knowledge that he was watching so intently, maybe it was his voice. Maybe it was the press of his broad shoulders on your inner thighs. Maybe it was the skill of his fingers as he slipped one and then another inside of you, crooking them just right as his thumb worked your clit.
Maybe it was just him.
You felt an orgasm building inside of you quicker than you ever had before. His thick fingers had you gasping at the stretch, and his thumb kept up a rhythm that made you arch your back and try to thrust your hips forward under the firm grip of his left arm.
“Just like that,” he said, curling his fingers inside of you. “Come for me.”
You did. It crashed over you like a wave, washing down your spine and sending tingles across your skin. You gasped for air and arched your back, and for a moment you could have sworn you felt the cool pressure of his helmet press lightly against your pussy. As if he needed to get as close as possible to watch you come.
Before you could say anything, mind still spinning, pleasure dripping down your spine, he surged upwards and kicked off his flightsuit. You looked up, chest heaving, and watched as his cock sprang upwards. It was thick.
“Fuck,” you cursed, reaching for him. He set his knee down next to you and grabbed your hips, manhandling you into the center of the bed. Once he had you where he wanted you he leaned forward and pressed his chest to yours. You felt his cock brush against your hip and moaned.
You reached down for him and just brushed your fingers against his cock when he grabbed your hand. He trapped both of your hands over your head in one of his.
“Can I fuck you?” he asked, voice tight. “I want to see that again. I want you to come on my cock.”
You moaned and thrust your hips upwards. “Yes, Mando,” you said, almost begging. “Fuck me.”
“Are you–” he cut himself off on a moan when he thrust his cock against your hip. “Do you need–”
You twitched your hips towards him and shook your head. “Implant. Fuck me, Mando.”
He nodded and reached down to grasp his cock. You felt the head nudge at your pussy as he moved it up and down, lightly brushing over your clit. You looked down and watched the muscles in his torso flex as he held himself up, still holding your hands above your head with his other hand. He was so strong.
You felt his cock notch against your entrance and sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes–” you started to say, but before you could say anything else, he started to push inside.
Your back arched off the bed as he slowly pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of you. His cock had looked thick but it felt even thicker, opening you up slowly and unrelentingly. It felt so fucking good, and you thought you might have moaned his name – Mando – as he did but you were barely aware of anything but the way his cock stretched and filled you.
When his hips came to rest against yours, you both sighed. He leaned down, bracing himself on his elbow right by your head, and murmured, “good girl.”
You gasped, and at the same time he shifted his hips backwards. When he thrust into you again it felt like every nerve ending you had lit up all at once with pleasure.
“You take my cock so well,” he said, nudging his helmet against the side of your head. “Perfect.”
The rhythm of his hips, driving into you so solidly, took your breath away. You wrapped your legs around his waist and thrust your hips upwards to meet his, and something about the change in angle made another orgasm start to build inside of you. It was like fire licking up your spine.
“I can feel you,” he said, voice low, right next to your ear. He still had your hands trapped in his own and it was all you could do to try to keep up with his thrusts. “You’re about to come, aren’t you? You’re squeezing me, mesh’la.”
You nodded, and made some sort of noise that was half moan, half agreement. He huffed another laugh, and something about him laughing made the fire build higher inside of you.
“Come for me,” he said, voice commanding. “Now.”
You tipped over the edge as he demanded, and it pulled you down and swept you away like the tide. You cried out, you weren’t sure what, and felt his hips speed up as you rode the crest of your orgasm in his arms.
As the tingles ran down your spine like aftershocks, you felt him thrust once, twice more, and then moan into your ear as he came.
You were both panting, chests heaving, as he dropped his helmeted head onto the bed beside yours.
“Fuck,” you breathed, tugging at your hands. He released you, finally, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his sweaty shoulder. “Fuck,” you said again, a bit louder.
He laughed, again, and you pinched him. He squirmed and the movement of his soft dick inside of you made you gasp. He reached down and gently, much more gently than he’d fucked you, pulled out and then flopped next to you on the bed.
You turned on your side to look at him and were surprised when his arm came up to gather you against his side. You went with it and found yourself pressed against him with your head on his chest and your arm across his torso. His left hand came up to meet yours on his chest and he began to play idly with the stack of leather bracelets you always wore.
For a moment you both just breathed.
“You’re pretty good at that,” you said, finally, smiling against his chest.
He ran his hand soothingly up and down your spine and you melted into it. “Thanks.” He sounded amused. “So’re you.”
You laughed. “Want to do it again sometime?”
There was a long pause, and you bit your lip, afraid to look up and meet his gaze. Did he not want to?
But his left hand was still toying with your bracelets, and his other arm was still holding you tight against him. You waited.
“I do,” he said, voice wary. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. And it can only be this.”
You took that to mean it could only be sex, which was fine with you. “Just sex, as long as we both want to,” you agreed, finally turning to look at him. “Pretty great sex. Drop by anytime.” You winked at him and felt his laugh in his chest under your cheek.
“Pretty great sex,” he said. His hand trailed from your back down to your ass. He took a firm grip and squeezed. “Want to start now?”
You laughed and let him pull you on top of him. You did.
…
After that, Mando was a regular visitor on Takodana. He’d stop by every month or two and then stay the night, and it was an arrangement that suited both of you, it seemed. You were always happy to see him and he was always great in bed, but it didn’t go farther than that.
It worked.
Until you fucked it up.
…
You and Mando were lounging in your bed after yet another round of “pretty great sex” when you ruined everything.
“Hey,” you said, reaching over and tracing your fingertips lightly over his chest. “How far away is Takodana from… wherever it is that you go?”
He shifted, turning his helmet to look at you. “What do you mean?”
You shrugged, pulling your hand back. “There have been some other bounty hunters coming through here in the last few weeks. No idea where they’re going, but one of them mentioned Nevarro to one of the other bartenders and it made me wonder. That’s pretty far.”
He’d tensed at something you said, and you weren’t sure what. The other bounty hunters maybe? Shit.
“How many?” His voice wasn’t relaxed anymore and you propped yourself up on your elbow, wincing.
“Bounty hunters?” He nodded. “Four or five? Not sure. More than usual, definitely.” He sat up and you felt your stomach drop. “Mando?”
He swung his legs off the bed and you scrambled to follow. “I have to go.”
“Wait,” you said, almost jumping off the bed. “Why? Mando–”
But he was shaking his head, somehow already zipping up his flight suit. “This was a bad idea.”
That brought you up short. A bad idea? This was, what, the 15th time he’d been naked in your bed? Why now? “Mando, wait–”
He started attaching his armor and you felt yourself start to panic.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice suddenly distant. He hadn’t spoken to you like that – so emotionless, like a stranger – since the beginning. “No one can know I’ve been here.” He paused, holding his chest plate, and looked at you for the first time since he’d stood up. “Don’t tell anyone you knew me, alright?”
Knew. Past tense. Fuck. You’d known better, and you’d still broken the one unspoken rule – don’t ask Mando personal questions. Ever. Was that it?
“Mando, stop. What’s going on?” You knew you sounded desperate but you had no idea what was happening. “What are you talking about?”
He shook his head and you watched as he wrapped his cape around his neck. When he was done he was somehow already fully dressed. He looked at you again and seemed to take a deep breath. “Never tell another bounty hunter I was here, or that you knew me. Got it?”
You nodded, wrapping your arms around your naked chest. You felt suddenly exposed and self-conscious in a way you never had around him, not once. “Mando–”
“Never,” he repeated, voice harsh. “I shouldn’t have let this go on so long.” For the first time since he’d stood up, he seemed to hesitate. You stepped closer, but he stepped back, away from you. You felt your heart drop. You wished you weren’t naked.
He was leaving.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low. “I won’t be back. I can’t–” He looked down and you saw that his fists were clenched. When he looked back up at you, you couldn’t find anything recognizable in the way he held himself. Nothing about this man, this bounty hunter, was the Mando you knew, the one who had only moments before been naked and relaxed in your bed.
He turned without another word and walked towards your door. You felt yourself begin to shake and you weren’t sure if it was from frustration or anger or something else.
“Mando,” you said, voice shaky. “Please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking, only that you didn’t want things to end like this, with him so closed off and far away. You didn’t even know what had made him decide to go.
He stopped at the door and tilted his head slightly, but didn’t turn. “Goodbye, cyar’ika.” You’d never heard him use that word before and had no idea what it meant. You felt goosebumps break out all over your skin and held in a sob as the door closed behind him.
…
It wasn’t until a few days later that you noticed one of your bracelets was missing.
…
When Mando finally came back to Takodana months later, you were long gone.
And years later, as he avoided remembering that corner of the Crest, he knew – so was the last thing he had that was yours.
summary: Marcus is a ball of nerves, just waiting for you to come home.
a/n: this is my late submission to @wannab-urs' Dom that Middle Aged Man Campaign! Sorry again for being late. I had something different planned originally but this week it turned out what I needed was something a bit softer. Maybe you could use something a bit softer, too? Thank you to @katareyoudrilling for beta-ing and Gin for taking a look. 🧡 (also yes, I'm still behind on replies, but I will catch up. love y'all)
tags/warnings: dom!reader, sub!Marcus, established relationship, established dom/sub dynamics, bathing together, acts of service?, subspace, a very intense handjob, restraining (with your body), (1) bite, referenced orgasm control, pet/dynamic names (from reader: baby, baby, my man; from Marcus: love), I named Miracle Guy Rob just for fun
...
Marcus is fidgeting again. He can’t seem to make himself stop. There’s a buzzing under his skin, a tension he can’t seem to shake.
She’s been away for 10 days, and he’s not sure how he’s going to make it to 12.
Two more days, he tells himself as he wakes up his computer and finds too many emails – and decisions – waiting for him. Barely 60 hours, he bargains as he doesn’t let himself pour a third cup of coffee, knowing it’ll just keep him awake. Only two more nights alone, he promises himself as he takes off his shoes in his empty house, too quiet with her out of town and Missy at school.
“Less than 48 hours,” he answers when his phone rings.
“Hello to you, too, babe,” she laughs, and Marcus feels something inside of him settle at the sound of her voice. The buzzing under his skin quiets to a low hum.
Soon.
…
You want to groan aloud as you step off the third – and final – plane, ready to be done with travel for a long while. You’re tired and all you’ve thought about since you stepped foot into the first airport this morning, hours ago, was getting home. To him.
Two weeks is far too long to go without the man you love.
You make your way to baggage claim and let your mind wander to the anticipation of being home. You picture it – walking in the front door to find Marcus waiting for you, arms open, expression soft. You smile to yourself as you step off the escalator.
When you turn, you almost freeze at the unexpected sight that greets you. A smile grows across your face as you rush forward.
Marcus is standing by the baggage claim area, grinning. He looks as handsome as ever and like home and you’ve never been so happy to see anyone in your life.
You drop your carry-on next to his feet just before you throw your arms around his shoulders. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as you fall into each other.
“Babe,” you say, smiling. “I thought you couldn’t pick me up.”
Marcus’ face is buried in your shoulder and you feel him nuzzle into your neck. He sighs. “I canceled my meetings. Couldn’t wait another minute.” He squeezes you tighter and you press a soothing kiss into his hair.
“Missed you too, babe.” You let yourself sink into his arms until you hear the announcement that the bags from your flight are arriving on the belt. You pull back slowly. “Come on – all I’ve been thinking about today is being home with you.”
When you finally meet his eyes and really look at him, though, your breath catches. That’s your Marcus, you know him better than you’ve ever known anyone. You can read him like a book. And right now he looks like he hasn’t rested or slept at all in two weeks. You haven’t seen dark circles like these since the time Missy got the flu and scared everyone, a couple of years before she went to college. Before you lived together. You think back to what he said – he couldn’t wait another minute – and you feel your heart start to beat a little faster.
“Marcus? You didn’t tell me–”
He smiles, rueful. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
You step closer, mindful of the crowd moving around you. “Hey. Baby, no. You’re mine to worry about. Right?” Your voice dips a bit lower, and you see him shiver in response.
“Right,” he agrees, and when you meet his eyes again the emotions in them tug at your chest. He sighs. “I haven’t been sleeping well. And work…” he trails off and shrugs. “Rob was out because the baby was sick, and it was a lot. And fuck, I just missed you so much.” He smiles but it looks more sad than anything and it hurts to look at. You need to get him home. All you want is to get this man home where you can take care of him. You know just what he needs, and just what you need, and the knowledge settles in your chest, warming you. You cup his face in your hand and the way he leans into it tells you just how right you are.
When you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his lips you hear the low noise he makes in the back of his throat and you know. We need to hurry.
“Come on,” you say, reaching down and lacing your fingers together as you step away. He grabs your bag and starts to walk with you. “We need to get you home, baby.”
He nods, already looking more at ease as he lets you lead him forward. “Yes, love.”
…
You keep a firm grip on Marcus’ thigh the entire drive home. He tells you more about what really happened at work while you were gone, and you can feel him opening up to you like a flower in the sun as he lets you start to take care of him. By the time you pull up at the house, the tension in his spine has started to disappear.
After you turn off the car you scan him with a careful eye. His shoulders are looser, his expression more open. Good.
“Marcus. My handsome, wonderful man. I’m going to take care of you. Alright, baby?” He nods, and you smile as you run your fingers through his hair gently. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long. But you can’t hide things from me, not like this.”
He nods again, and you can see the regret in the lines of his face. “I won’t. I’m sorry, love.”
You hum, thoughtful. “This was my first long trip in a while. We’ll do better, prepare better, if it happens again. Together. Ok?”
Marcus smiles softly. “Ok.”
“Alright.” You can hear the change in your voice, and you know Marcus hears it, too, when he straightens slightly in his seat. “Now, I want you to take my bags inside and then head up to our closet. Go inside and take off those clothes and find something more comfortable. Don’t put them on yet – take your time, and meet me in the bathroom in ten minutes.”
Marcus lets out a deep breath that seems to lift the weight of the time you’ve been away off his shoulders. “Yes, love,” he breathes, and you smile as he immediately starts to do as you said.
You step out of the car and hurry to the door – you only have ten minutes.
By the time Marcus steps inside the bathroom holding his softest clothes and wearing nothing but his underwear, you’re ready for him. You’ve filled the large bath with hot water and oils in the scents you know he likes best. The lights are low, the towels are ready, and you stopped by the kitchen for water and snacks. You’re sitting on the edge of the tub, still dressed, waiting.
“Put those down, baby, and come here.”
He does, and then moves to stand in front of you. You let your eyes trail over his bare chest and legs, appreciative as always. You know he can see it in your expression when you meet his eyes again. He’s flushed, looking pleased.
You stand, slowly, and gesture him closer. “Help me undress,” you say, voice low. “I need to wash off all that travel.”
He quirks a small smile at your words, and you know he’s remembering all the times you’ve said that before, here in this room with him.
“Of course, love,” he murmurs, already moving to do as you asked. He doesn’t rush. He lets his fingertips brush against you as he slowly undresses you, and you sink into the sensation of being there with him.
Soon enough you’re standing bare before him, and his appreciation is obvious. It makes you smile, and he blushes.
You step into the bath, Marcus’ hand immediately coming up to steady you. As soon as you’re situated against the wall, you gesture him forward. He kneels next to the tub, so quickly you feel warmth growing in your chest. You reach out to brush your fingers across his cheek and he turns into the gesture, making you smile again.
“Help me wash.”
He nods, and you can see him sinking into the familiar motions. He reaches for the soap and a cloth and begins eagerly. You have done this together so many times, you move together easily. He lifts your arm and you turn towards him, watching as he carefully and attentively washes every bit of you that he can reach. He’s so focused on his task that it becomes almost meditative, and you can see him starting to slip into that space you know he needs, held completely within your control. His body begins to forget his stress – his shoulders relax more with every movement. Every gentle pass of the cloth relaxes you, lets you sink deeper into the moment you’re building together.
Eventually Marcus guides you to stand and, after paying the same attentiveness to your legs that he did to the rest of you, moves to drain the tub. It refills quickly, and as it does you hold out your hand to him.
“Join me,” you say, and he does. You sink into the fresh hot water again and lean against the wall of the tub. You guide him to lean back against you, between your legs. The warmth of him is so familiar, and so missed, you can’t help but wrap yourself around him. His head comes to rest on your shoulder and you feel the remaining tension start to leach out of him into the hot water that surrounds you. You nuzzle behind his ear and smile when you feel him shiver in response. “Thank you, baby,” you murmur, pressing a kiss behind his ear. “You’re so good at that.”
He stretches a bit, pleased, but you can tell he’s amused. “At bathing?”
“Yes,” you agree, sincerely, “but particularly at doing as I ask. My wonderful man.” Marcus relaxes further into you at that, and you smile again. “Now, hands on the side of the tub, please,” you say, and he immediately complies. “Rest your hands comfortably, no need to stretch. Good?” He nods and you notice his eyes have fallen closed. Good. “Keep them there, baby. Until I say.”
“Yes, love,” he murmurs, and you hear in his voice that he has let go of everything outside of this room. He’s just yours, now, and you’ll take care of him.
You run your hands lightly down his sides and watch his sharp intake of breath. You hum as you trail your fingertips up his chest, tracing swirling designs across his skin under the hot water. “I missed you,” you say, lips brushing against his ear. His grip tightens around the edge of the tub. “I missed talking with you, and waking up next to you, and sleeping by you at night,” you continue as your hands press more firmly against his chest and arms. You can see his interest, which had flagged a bit as he washed you so attentively, start to grow again under the water. “I missed taking care of you,” you whisper, wrapping your left arm around his upper chest firmly and squeezing. “And I missed how perfectly you fall apart under my hands... My handsome man.” He moans, softly, and you slide your right hand down, smoothly, right to where you both want it.
You wrap your hand around his cock, gently, and begin to tease at his length. He’s already hard, and you feel his breath catch at your touch.
“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” You pump his cock slowly as you ask.
He shakes his head before burying his face in your neck.
“No? I told you you could.” You’d known, though, that he wouldn’t.
“No,” he says, and his voice is low and soft. “I didn’t want… not without you.”
You smile and press a kiss into his hair. “My sweet man. I don’t want you to neglect yourself.”
His hips twitch forward as you move your hand smoothly down and back up, teasing around the head. Your pace is so slow it’s barely a pace at all, and you know the anticipation will send him falling steadily downwards and inwards until he’s limp in your arms.
“I wanted you,” he gasps, and you wrap your arm tighter around his chest. “It’s always better with you.” You admire the strength in his arms and his back as he wrestles against himself, keeping his hands firmly in place on the sides of the bath. It’s beautiful.
You file away a thought about how to handle this, if you have another long trip – phone sex, probably. And the thought sends a tingle of anticipation down your spine.
“I always want you, baby,” you murmur, squeezing a bit tighter and moving just a bit faster. He twitches gratifyingly in your grip. “Now let me take care of you, hmm? You can let go, now. I’ve got you.”
Marcus sighs and somehow curls even more snugly into your arms. You start a slow and steady pace and feel his heart rate increase in his chest.
“That’s it,” you whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss just in front of it. “My handsome man, relax for me, hmm?” You move just a bit faster and feel his hips thrust forward. “You’re so beautiful like this, baby. So perfect for me.” When you twist your hand around the head of his cock, Marcus whines, softly, and you smile. “You love me so well, Marcus,” you say, softly, and he gasps. “You’re so good, baby. So good for me.”
You move your hand faster, grip his cock tighter, and the sound he lets out is almost like a sob. He has a vice-like grip on the sides of the tub and you wrap your legs around his, holding him down and in place. Marcus’ chest begins to rise and fall more swiftly with his unsteady breaths and the water of the bath moves choppily around you.
You press a soft line of kisses up his neck. “I’ve got you. Let go for me, baby,” you say, voice firm. “Now.” You bite down on his shoulder, and with a sharp exhale, he does.
Marcus’ body goes tense as he moans your name, and you feel his release overcome him completely. You pump your fist two, three more times, and then he goes completely boneless in your arms.
You release his cock, wrapping both arms around his chest, pressing soft kisses all along his neck and shoulders. “Yes, Marcus,” you praise, “that was so beautiful, baby. You did so well.”
He says your name again, softly, and you tighten your arms around him. You know he’ll need a few minutes to come back, to swim back upwards through the pleasure and relaxation and release. “I’ve got you, baby.” Your voice is low, meant just for him. “Take your time.”
You whisper and murmur soft praises to him as he drifts, and you feel his arms twitch as he starts to come back to himself. The water is still warm, but you know you’ll need to get out soon. Slowly, you release your hold on him and smooth your hands along his arms. You carefully encourage his hands to let go of the sides of the tub, gently massaging his palms as he does.
When he sits up slightly and turns to look at you, you smile. “Hello there,” you greet him, and he smiles back.
This Marcus is so different from the one who met you at the airport. He looks well-rested, with all the cares of the world lifted from his shoulders. His brow is soft, his eyes warm as he looks at you. The soft smile that plays at his mouth is so handsome it takes your breath away.
“Hello, love,” he says, and leans in to kiss you. “Welcome home,” he murmurs against your lips, and you smile.
“Thank you,” you say between kisses. “Next time, we won’t let it get that bad, hmm? And you’ll talk to me. And tell me the truth.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, love. I promise. I got so lost in my own head. All I could do was wait for you to come back.”
You run your hand through his hair gently, before bringing it down to rest against his cheek. “We’ll talk about it later, alright? But I think I know how I want you to show me just how sorry you are.” You let a bit of teasing enter your voice, but you know he knows you’re serious.
He leans into your hand. “Anything, love,” he breathes, and his desperation to please you makes you smile again.
“Well, baby,” you tighten your grip on his hair and smile when he gasps and leans into it. “I’m going to go lay on the bed, and you’re going to dry off and meet me there.” You kiss him and nip softly at his bottom lip. “And then you’re going to make me come with your mouth as many times as I want until I tell you to stop.”
He shudders in expectation and smiles. “Yes, love,” he breathes. He watches, wide eyes tracking your every move as you stand from the tub. “Please.”You smile and lead him towards the bedroom. My perfect man.
Din Djarin x f!reader | 4.1k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3
chapter summary: the Gala is over! The night after has arrived.
a/n: I promised myself that I would catch up on replying to all of your amazing comments over the past few weeks before posting this last chapter, but I didn't quite do it. I will respond to each and every one -- they have been so amazing and really made me smile during the hectic start to this year and moving. We're all moved in with just unpacking left, and I can't wait to catch up and let you all know how much I loved reading them. I hope you enjoy this final chapter of this story. Thank you all for reading. and thank you @katareyoudrilling as always for being the best.
chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, touching, pet names (sweetheart), hand-holding, intense feelings, kissing, smut - kissing, grinding, holding up against a wall, manhandling, fingering, p-in-v sex (unprotected but in my mind she's on birth control), cuddling
Chapter 14
For a while after the curtains closed there was just absolute chaos on stage.
Everyone was shouting and hugging, and you lost track of the congratulations you gave and received as you were pulled from person to person. Your fellow dancers jostled you and clapped you both on the back and shoulders, and you noticed Din was grinning a bit shyly at being included in the camaraderie.
Through all of it, he never let go of your hand.
Kuiil pushed through the crowd to find you and Din and pull you both into a hug.
“You were marvelous!” he said, shouting to be heard over the crowd. “Better than I even imagined. It was art. Simply marvelous.” He went on like that for a few minutes before hugging you once more and walking off to find Karga, smiling. You caught Din’s eye and laughed.
Somehow, in that moment, you found yourselves alone in a sort of bubble, with people moving around you but leaving you alone. Din looked at you, and you felt time slow around you as he smiled, slow and intent.
He leaned forward, and when he spoke his voice made you shiver. “Let’s find Karga, and then Grogu. And then I think we have somewhere to be.”
You nodded and let him lead you towards the front of the stage where Karga was waiting. He saw you coming and flung his arms out to welcome you. “Oh there you are! Well done, both of you. He grinned, looking so pleased you thought he might burst. “Din, I knew you could do it.” He patted him on the shoulder, and Din laughed. “You had it in you, I could see it. And you were better than I could have dreamed!” He turned to you and continued, “and you! Truly, you were amazing.” He shook his head, at a loss for words. “I was in the audience, and I could feel the reaction. You blew them away.” He clasped his hands together and nodded again. “Now, go celebrate! You deserve it.”
And so you were dismissed, and without pausing, Din led you through the crowd and towards the side of the stage. “Grogu and Peli are going to meet us back here, just for a minute – it’s past his bedtime, but I want to say goodnight.”
You laughed, and smiled when you rounded a corner and found Grogu and a woman you didn’t know walking down the hall backstage.
“There he is!” she said to Grogu, who smiled and took off running towards his dad.
“Hey, kid,” Din said, smiling widely. He knelt down and let Grogu run into his arms. “Did you like it?”
You could see Grogu nodding against his dad’s chest, but you couldn’t hear his response. You looked up to find Peli looking at you, and you introduced yourself.
“Oh I’ve heard alllllll about you,” she said, and you raised your eyebrows. “Oh yes, Mr. Strong and Silent Type over there does talk, and when he does, it’s mostly been about you, lately.”
Din chose that moment to stand up and interrupt, and you smirked at him.
“Ok, thanks Peli,” he said quickly, and you laughed.
“What have you been saying about me?” you teased, and he sighed.
Peli grinned at you. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
You felt a small hand tug on yours and looked down to find Grogu looking up at you. You knelt down next to him. “Hey Grogu,” you said, smiling. “Did you like the show?”
He nodded. “You were pretty again.”
You grinned at him. “Thank you. What about your dad?”
Grogu smiled and nodded. “He was pretty, too.”
“I agree,” you said, and poked Din’s leg. You were distracted when Grogu suddenly flung his arms around you in a hug. You gingerly hugged him back before he backed up just as quickly and hugged his dad’s leg.
You looked up at Din, stunned. He had the softest look you’d ever seen in his eyes.
“Ok, time to go home with Peli, bud,” he said to Grogu, bending down to lift the kid in a big hug. “I’ll see you in the morning, ok? Be good and sleep well.”
You turned to Peli as they said goodnight. “Nice to meet you, Peli.” You leaned in. “I do want to hear all about what he’s been saying, later.”
She nodded and winked. “Nice to meet’cha.” She reached for Grogu’s hand when Din put him down. “C’mon, kid! We got places to be.”
Grogu waved back at you as she led him down the hall, and you both called goodnight before he disappeared around the corner.
“He’s so cute, Din,” you said, and looked over to find him looking down the hall after his son. “You ok?”
He turned towards you and smiled. “Never better, sweetheart. Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed your hand and started walking towards the dressing rooms. You ducked into your usual one as you passed and promised to meet him at his after you took off your costume.
You were almost done when Adrian came running in after you and found you throwing on your sweats. “Excuse me, best friend calling, were you just going to sneak off without letting me freak out at how amazing that was??”
You grinned at him as you threw things in your bag. “You were, too. I saw most of it. You nailed it.”
He waived away your praise, nodding. “I know. But shit, the two of you made freaking magic out there.”
“Adrian, it felt…” you sighed and tossed your bag over your shoulder. “I’ve never felt like that on stage before.”
He grinned and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you a little. “They’re going to put you together again, so much. That was… That’s the kind of thing most of us only dream of getting to do on stage, you know.”
You nodded, throat suddenly tight. You knew exactly what he meant.
“Ok, go find your man.” He pulled you in for a crushing hug. “And you better fucking call me tomorrow!”
He let you go, laughing, and you waved as you moved into the hall.
You were grinning as you turned the corner, heading for Din’s dressing room. Just as you reached it, he stepped out into the hall in sweats with his bag over his shoulder and his costume on its hanger.
“Let me put this up,” he said, “and we can go.”
You nodded and trailed behind him as he found the nearest costume rack. He hung up his shorts, and then turned to you and held out his hand. You slid your hand into his and smiled.
Without a word he led you to the stage door and poked his head out. He looked both ways and, finding the road deserted, tugged you out after him. “We can go around the back, my apartment is just around the corner.” You fell into step and suddenly, you found you didn’t know what to say.
The tension that had been building between you for weeks suddenly returned, full force, as you walked away from the theater. With nothing left between you, no performance standing in the way, all that was left was you and Din.
Only a few moments later, he turned off the sidewalk and into an apartment building you had passed a million times and never been inside. He nodded at the guard in the lobby before leading you to the elevator. As you waited, you searched for something to say, wondering if he was waiting for you to speak first.
Then the elevator arrived, and you let him lead you inside. You opened your mouth, ready to say something, anything, but the second the doors closed, Din dropped his bag and backed you against the wall. And then his mouth was on yours.
Your kisses in the studio and then backstage had been amazing. But this one was on an entirely different level.
Din crowded you into the wall and claimed your mouth. His hand came up to cup your cheek and he used his grip to tilt your face just where he wanted it. He pressed on your chin with his thumb to open your mouth and you lost track of everything except his mouth on yours.
Until he pulled back suddenly and you realized the elevator doors had opened.
“Shit,” he said, and took a deep breath. He had to dart to the side to keep the doors from closing. You grabbed his bag and handed it to him. “C’mere, beautiful.” He tugged you after him and you exited the elevator into a hall with only four doors. He pulled you towards the one on the far left, dropping your hand only to unlock the door. He ushered you inside with a warm hand at your lower back.
You barely got a glimpse of the inside of his apartment before Din was pressing you up against the back of his door. He didn’t immediately kiss you, this time. He leaned forward, forearm by your head and pressed a line of kisses down your neck. “Do you know,” he said, between kisses, “how fucking beautiful you were on stage tonight? I wanted to be in two places at once, dancing with you and watching you. You took my breath away.” Your breath hitched as he worried a mark at the base of your neck.
“Din–” you sighed, and he lifted his head to meet your eyes.
“It’s been torture, waiting for this. I was going to offer to feed you, you know.” You nodded. It really had been. “But I don’t want to wait anymore. I want you, sweetheart. What do you want?”
You took a deep breath and grasped at his shirt. “I want you, Din. But–” he froze, and you shook your head. “Not just once.”
He smiled, and you felt his body relax into you again. “No, not just once.” He kissed you, softly, pressing his smile against your mouth until you smiled, too. “I want to take you out. I want you to spend time with me and Grogu.” He kissed you. “I want to dance with you again.”
Your heart was racing as you nodded. “Me too, Din. All of that.”
“Good,” he murmured against your lips, and then he was kissing you again.
Without noticing it happen, you found yourself pressed back against the door with your legs wrapped around Din’s hips. His hands were holding you up with a firm grip on your ass. “This feels familiar,” you teased, and he nipped at your neck.
“You feel so good, sweetheart,” Din said, voice deep and warm. “Been thinking about this for weeks. All I wanted that day in rehearsal was to keep going, just like this.”
“When–” you said, but cut yourself off with a small gasp when you felt his teeth press against your collarbone. “Since when?”
“Since I first saw you,” he said, “in class.”
You blinked, surprised. “What, then? The first day?”
He smiled against your neck. “Yes, then. Remember when you bumped into me, in the hall? I didn’t want to let go. I was…” he hummed and pressed gentle kisses along your neck that made your breath catch in your throat. “But also since you looked at me, in that rehearsal room, and saw me.”
You knew he meant the day of your first real conversation, not the day you’d run into him in the hall. “Me too,” you breathed. “But then I really knew that day you got that grand jete pass from the second…” you caught his mouth in another kiss, and broke off before continuing, “and after you got it, you smiled at me. And it took my breath away.”
He chuckled. “That wasn’t the first time I smiled at you.”
You shook your head. “No, I know. But you were so happy that day. I saw you smile at Grogu one day, too, back in the fall, and it was like that. You were just… happy.”
Din leaned back and smiled at you again, and it was just like those other smiles. You let your gaze dance over his face, taking in his features again. He was so handsome. “That day you met Grogu for the first time, I wanted to grab your hand and take you with us. He liked you immediately. It was so…”
You let your head fall back against the door and smiled at the memory. “I couldn’t tell what you were thinking. You put your mask back on and I never know what you’re thinking when you do that.”
He laughed, looking taken aback. “My mask?”
You rolled your eyes. “You know, that face that you do when you don’t want to show any emotions. The one you had on for your first few months here.”
He nodded, amused. “I’ve never thought of it as a mask before.”
You shrugged and threaded your fingers through his hair. “It’s how I thought of it. Because then I started to get glimpses of you behind it. So it was surprising when it came back.”
He leaned into the way you were massaging his scalp, and hummed. “I was probably trying to hide how much seeing you with Grogu made me want to fall to my knees at your feet.”
Laughing, you pulled him back in for another kiss. You both got swept up in it for a few minutes, and he pressed you tighter against the door. “At my feet, huh?” He nodded into your neck. “Din,” you murmured, and he hummed in response. “Take me to bed.”
You squealed when he gripped you under your ass again and lifted you to walk down the hall, and then you yelped when he tossed you onto the bed. He started to follow but you stopped his advance with a foot planted on his chest and he grinned. “Clothes off, Djarin.”
Din leaned back and stood. “Only if you do the same.”
You both began to strip off your clothes and somehow even though you’d been basically naked together just hours before, this felt different.
He watched as you pulled off your shirt, and then followed your hands as you pulled down your pants. You nudged him with your toe to get him moving and he laughed as he stripped off his own shirt.
And then you realized he was still covered in paint. “Din–”
He waved his hand. “We’ll change the sheets.”
You laughed and shrugged. “It’s your bed.”
As he pulled off his pants, he replied, “and you look perfect in it. And I liked the way my marks looked on you, before.” You didn’t get a chance to look before he was crawling over you on the bed. He lowered his body to yours and kissed you again, and you wrapped a leg around his, pulling him closer.
You felt his cock press against your thigh and moaned. He was devastatingly hard.
“It was so hard not to touch you in that costume,” he said, shifting his weight to lean on one arm. His right hand slipped over your chest and down your side, and you realized he was tracing the patterns of the swirls from your costume. “I could see all of you, and none of you. I wanted to slide my hand from your hip, just around to the front and down…” he trailed off.
“What about those shorts?” you said, breathless as his hand started to travel lower. “God, Din, your legs.”
He smiled against your mouth. “My legs?”
You nodded, unrepentant, and then sighed and arched your back as his fingertips brushed lightly over your thigh. “So strong,” you said, mind spinning away from you. “All of you… beautiful.”
“Hmm,” he hummed against your mouth as his fingers teased at your slit. “I like the way you look at me, in the shorts.” And then he ran his fingers lightly through your wetness, and groaned. “Sweetheart,” he murmured. “You’re soaked.”
You nodded and tangled your fingers in his hair. “Your fault,” you accused, and he laughed.
“Good.” And then his fingers found your clit, and you gasped. He pulled up slightly and you realized he was watching it play out across your face. “Show me. I want to see how it feels.”
Din watched your reactions and learned, so quickly it took your breath away, exactly how you liked to be touched. You thought about how much he said he liked watching you, and tucked away that idea for later.
“Yes, Din,” you sighed as his fingers teased around your entrance. He shifted suddenly and you found yourself with your legs pushed farther apart by his knee and his arm.
“Like this?” he asked, fingertips brushing just outside of where you wanted them with light pressure.
You nodded. “Please,” you said, and then gasped as he pressed inside. You realized your eyes were closed and opened them to find him staring down at you, mouth open, expression full of heat.
He sank a second finger inside of you and watched as your mouth fell open at the stretch. “Yes, beautiful,” he praised, watching as your back arched again. “I want to see it.” He praised you as he worked you higher with his fingers. Just as you started to feel it build, a tension at the base of your spine that started to soar upwards, he moved his thumb over your clit.
Din smirked when you moaned. “Like that?” You nodded, and he smiled. “Yeah, like that. Come on. Come for me, sweetheart.” He worked his fingers faster, thumb circling your clit just right, and you felt yourself barreling helplessly towards your peak.
“Din–” you cried, and he ducked down to kiss you. He pulled back again quickly.
“Yes, come on. Come.”
And you did. It washed over you like the sound in the theater earlier, rumbling through your body and leaving shivers in its wake. You came back to yourself and realized you were breathing hard as Din curled over you.
“That was so fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to press kisses along your collarbone. “Everything you do is beautiful. Fucking gorgeous.”
You tightened your grip on his hair and tugged his head up. “Din,” you said, and he opened his mouth to respond, but you shook his head lightly with your grip on his hair. “Fuck me.”
The expression that took over his face was fierce. He thrust his hips downward and you felt his cock against your thigh. You untangled one hand to reach down, but he caught your hand. “No, sweetheart. Not if you want me to fuck you right now.” And then he kissed you again.
You almost protested, but then you felt his hand behind your knee. He bent it upwards until it was flat against your chest, almost like you were doing a split with your knee bent. He tucked your leg over his shoulder. With that one in place, he used his other hand to bend your knee and open your hip to the side.
He pulled back from the kiss, and looked down at where he’d put you. You had one leg over his shoulder and the other thigh to the side, lying flat against the bed. Your pussy was spread wide open for him, and he grinned, wickedly. “Perfect,” he murmured, and then thrust his hips forward.
His cock came to rest against your pussy, and you both moaned at the sensation of the head nudging against your clit.
“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured, pressing kisses all over your face. “I knew you would.”
He thrust his hips again, and this time the head of his cock nudged against your entrance, and you shivered. “Din, please–”
He nodded into your neck. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want.” He pulled his hips back, and on the next slow thrust, notched the head of his cock right where you wanted it. With your hips so open you could feel everything.
Din lifted his head and caught your eye. You nodded, quickly, and he smiled as he pushed inside.
Your mouth dropped open. He was so big. You held his gaze as he filled you and you realized you were breathing hard, chest heaving, once he pushed all the way inside.
For a moment neither of you moved. Your eyelids fluttered as you adjusted to the sensation of him, inside you, filling every inch of your cunt. You tilted your hips slightly and your eyes flew open when he gasped.
“Move, Din,” you breathed, and he nodded. He started to pull his hips backwards, and you shivered as the head of his cock nudged against that spot inside of you that felt so good.
He saw it, of course. He saw everything. And he knew your body well.
Before he thrust back in, he reached down and tilted your hips upwards, pressing his torso farther forward to catch your knee. The head of his cock nudged against that spot again and you sighed.
He smiled at you. “Like that, hmm?”
You nodded, and he did it again. And again. And again.
You watched his muscles move in his arms and shoulders as he fucked you, and you struggled for breath. You were falling apart underneath him as he held you in the perfect position and fucked you slowly, so slowly you thought you might cry.
“I thought about this,” he said, voice low as he watched you. “Knew you’d be so beautiful. But I…” he trailed off as he thrust forward again. “I had no idea. How amazing you would be. How you would feel.”
You felt it start to build, again, and travel its way up from your toes to the tip of your head. You were tingling all over, sparks running down your spine and out your fingertips.
“Faster?” he asked, watching the way your hips started to thrust upwards to meet his. You nodded.
He started to move faster, so gradually, the increase in speed building slowly and washing over you like a wave. Before you knew it he was gripping you behind your knee and thrusting into you, hitting that spot inside just right.
Din shifted so that his knee was bent to the side under your leg and the change in angle let him slip just a little bit deeper inside. You whined.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he said, voice low. “Just like that. Show it to me again.” He let go of your leg, held in place on his shoulder, and slipped his fingers between you to play at your clit.
You were almost there, so close, teetering on the edge, when he leaned down and murmured in your ear, “Come, beautiful. You feel so fucking good. Come for me..”
And for the second time that night, you did exactly what he told you to do.
You came, hard, head thrown back and his name on your lips. He thrust faster, carrying you through it. Your entire body was shaking as you came down, and you felt him thrust once more inside you and then still.
Din ducked his head into your neck as you both breathed. You curled your legs and arms around him, holding him close. You took a moment to revel in the fact that your bodies were pressed together with nothing in the way, no barrier between you. You felt like you were floating.
He shifted his weight and nuzzled at your neck. “I feel like I could fly right now, if I tried hard enough.”
You laughed. “You already fly on stage, you know. I’ve never seen anyone get air like that.”
He lifted his head and leaned it against his hand, still pressed against you everywhere else, and looked down at you with a half-smile. “Sure, I can jump, but I can only fly with you.”
Your face felt hot and you tried to bury it in his chest, but he laughed and cupped your cheek with his free hand.
“It’s true. I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t know I could feel like this.” His eyes were so open and serious. “If I’d known you were here, I would have left years ago.”
You bit your lip and studied his face. His handsome, lovely face that was so open and expressive, but not for everyone. You felt a familiar warmth building inside of you at the knowledge that you got to see the man behind the mask so fully. “You were worth the wait, Din.”
He smiled and leaned down to kiss you. “So were you, sweetheart.”
...
last |
a/n: thank you again for reading!! it means so much to me. I hope you liked this chapter. I can't believe we reached the end!!
Din Djarin x f!reader | 4k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3
chapter summary: it's finally the night of the Gala, and it's finally time to perform with Din.
a/n: First, if you didn't see the AMAZING art @kenobiwanx made of ballet!Din, please go look now!!!
Second, a week or so ago @iknowisoundcrazy asked me about a scene I was proud of writing, or something like that, and my answer was really this chapter. I just couldn't say that yet. I hope y'all enjoy it. I can't believe we only have one more chapter! I'm super behind on replying to your amazing comments because I just moved over the weekend, but I will catch up, I promise. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!
chapter tags/warnings: fluff, dancing, flirting, touching, pet names (sweetheart), hand-holding, intense feelings, kissing, I think we've already covered all of the dance moves in this chapter but I added some links used previously just in case
Chapter 13
At call time, you were feeling much more relaxed and ready for the performance. You successfully avoided the tornado that was Greef Karga backstage (where Alexa and Vince were corralling him) and found one of your usual spots in the dressing room near Adrian. He was already dressed for Jee’s piece in a full-coverage bodysuit with a skin color background and abstract shapes printed on it in blue. You knew his fellow dancers were in similar outfits with different colors, and that the shapes were somehow incorporated into the choreography. Jee was good at things like that.
You quickly put on your bodysuit and your sweats over top. It was a little chilly backstage and you had plenty of time before the show would start.
Adrian leaned against the counter to your right and crossed his arms. “Where’s your other half?”
You pointed upwards – there were a couple of dressing rooms that were more private, and you were pretty sure that’s where Din had been getting ready. “He’ll be down in a bit. You ready?”
He nodded, smiling. “This is a fun one. Jee’s choreography is always weird, but cool.”
You laughed as you finished your stage makeup. “True,” you agreed.
Fifteen minutes later, Din popped his head into the room. He had on a loose t-shirt and sweats, but you figured he had his shorts on underneath. You noticed a few people waved at him and he nodded in response. He caught your eye in the mirror and motioned for you to join him in the hall.
You looked at Adrian. “See you in a bit.”
He smiled and shoved your shoulder lightly. “Get out of here.”
You laughed and joined Din in the doorway. He smiled and led you to the right and around the corner, and you realized where you were going. There was a tiny dressing room with no mirror that no one ever used, except for taking naps – it had a somewhat comfortable loveseat.
As you entered, you realized no one was in there but Din’s bag was on the couch. “Is this where you’ve been getting ready?” The room was so small that the two of you basically filled it.
He nodded, a bit sheepish. “I just drop by the other room to use the mirror.”
You smiled. “If I’d known I’d have come and claimed the couch,” you teased.
He ducked his head and smiled. “You’re always welcome.”
You moved over to the couch and sat down. “So, what’s up?”
Din leaned against the folding table that ran the length of the wall by the door. “Could you help me with the body paint? I think some of it wore off in the back.”
“Sure,” you said, moving to get up, but he waved you back down.
“Not yet. We’ve got a few minutes and it’s too cold to be basically naked in here already.”
You laughed. “True. But we want it to dry, right?”
He sighed. “Alright. Ok, come here.” His hands moved to the hem of his shirt and he tugged it gingerly over his head. You realized he was avoiding the paint. It was dry, though, and looked fine.
“Where’s the problem? The front looks fine.” Your eyes traveled over the swirls on his torso and you smiled, lightly. When you met his eyes he was smirking again.
“Should I take off my pants, too?” His eyes were almost sparkling as he teased you.
You gasped, just for show. “Din! What are you insinuating, hmm?” You stepped up next to him and took a closer look at the paint, looking for any spots that had rubbed off.
As soon as you were close enough, he grabbed your hips and pulled you forward between his open knees on the table. You flailed a bit as you looked for somewhere to rest your hands, eventually settling on his forearms. You didn’t want to mess up the paint, which was mostly on his torso and biceps.
Once you were steady, he leaned forward, far enough that his lips were almost touching your ear. “I saw you check me out, you know. Last week.” His voice was deep, and you shivered again. He pulled back and grinned.
“Din Djarin, you tease.”
He squeezed your hips and shook his head. “It’s not a tease, sweetheart. I checked you out, too.” He cleared his throat and looked down. “Not for the first time.”
You smiled. “Adrian said we were both watching each other in class, all the time.”
Din laughed. “I don’t know how you didn’t see me. It felt like I never looked at anything else.”
You felt your face heat. “Ok. Enough of that. We have a performance,” you poked him in the side and laughed when he tried to dodge, “get your head in the game.” He smiled and squeezed your hips again. “Now let me see your back.”
You moved back as he stood so he could turn in front of you. For a moment you simply looked – your eyes danced over his broad shoulders and then down his spine. You wanted to reach out and touch, to trace the lines of his muscles and curve of his waist with your fingertips. He was so strong.
You shook your head. The paint. You frowned as you looked for any breaks in the paint. “Din, it looks fine. I don’t see any spots where you need a touch up.”
When he turned back to face you, his expression was suspiciously blank. “Oh? Well, maybe I was wrong, then.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Din Djarin, did you have ulterior motives when you brought me in here?”
He smirked again and shook his head. “No, you know we’re saving those for later. I just…” he sighed. “I’d rather wait with you than alone.”
You rolled your eyes at him, but smiled. “You could have just said that.”
He shrugged. “There could have been some spots to touch up. You never know.”
You laughed and tugged him over to the couch. He sat sideways so as not to actually rub off any of his paint, and you sank into the corner. “How much time do you think we have?”
“Probably about ten minutes.” The first movement was after Vince’s piece, which opened the show. You needed to be backstage when it started. Then the second movement was between Talia’s and Jee’s, and the third finished the show.
You reached for his hand and laced your fingers together. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to get comfortable touching your pas de deux partner before a performance, but you knew this felt different, for both of you. “Want to go warm up?” He nodded. “Alright. Meet me backstage? I have to go do my pre-show thing with Adrian.”
Din raised an eyebrow, and you realized he’d never seen your “thing”, as you called it. “Or you can come and watch, if you want. We just have a silly handshake and then we hug.”
It turned out that he did want to watch, and he followed you back to your dressing room after stripping off his sweatpants. You allowed yourself to ogle his legs briefly before leading him out of the room. “Do you have any show rituals?”
Din shrugged. “Not really. I usually do the same stretches and warm up.” He thought about it for a moment. “Grogu says I have a lucky shirt. It’s in my bag.”
You laughed. You realized, as you grabbed Adrian and started your ritual handshake, that you felt more at ease, more comfortable than you usually did before a performance.
It must be because of Din, you figured. It was hard to be nervous when you knew he’d be there with you for every step. Adrian hugged you, and you squeezed him until he made an “oof” sound.
“Ok, ok, let me go. Don’t squeeze me to death.” You laughed at his grumbling as Adrian pulled back to check his costume in the mirror. “Go do your thing, I’ll see you backstage later.”
You pulled off your sweats and left them at your spot. You grabbed your pointe shoes and turned to face Din, who was looking at you. Well, he was looking at your legs. You grinned.
“Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm. As you passed him, you murmured, “who’s checking who out now, hmm?”
Din followed you out, and once in the hall, he said, smirking, “I already confessed.”
You made your way backstage together and found a spot where you could warm up in the large area behind the wings. You put on your shoes and began to help each other stretch.
Kuiil found you there a few minutes later, and he smiled down at you both. “Are you ready?”
You both nodded, but Din said, “we are.” His voice was firm and warm and it made you smile.
Kuiil nodded. “Yes, you are. Excellent. I will be in the audience. I wish to see it as I meant others to see it. I will see you soon.” He reached down and rested a hand on each of your shoulders. “Remember. Be in the moment, and be there for each other.”
WIth that, he turned and made his way down the hall and, you presumed, out to the audience. You felt warmed from his clear pride and belief in the two of you together.
As you finished stretching, you heard the audience settle down, and you figured the house lights had just gone down. Your guess was confirmed when you heard Karga’s voice welcoming everyone to the gala.
“Good evening,” he began, and you could picture the wide smile on his face. “Thank you for celebrating our 5th anniversary with us. We are so pleased to have you here.” The crowd applauded, and Karga chuckled. “Yes, thank you. We have a wonderful program planned for you tonight, with pieces that feature the best of what our amazing dancers can do. All of our choreographers – Vince, Talia, Jee, and our visiting choreographer in residence, Kuiil – have prepared new, never before seen pieces for you just for this gala.” The audience applauded again. “We are so grateful for your patronage, and we hope you enjoyed this season. Please, sit back and enjoy the visual feast we have prepared – and don’t forget about the free refreshments during intermission!" That got a light chuckle from the audience. “Thank you.”
The crowd applauded once more, and you assumed Karga was walking off stage. You heard the curtains open and nudged Din. You tilted your head towards the wings, silently asking if he wanted to go watch the quartet. He shook his head and motioned for you to stand with him. He leaned in and murmured, “I’d rather warm up a bit more with you.”
You’d seen the quartet in dress rehearsal, and it really was beautiful. It was funny to think that it had been your original role in this program. You nodded and joined him in some light jumps and lunges, and then spent a few minutes warming up your ankles.
You heard the quartet’s music begin to build towards its crescendo. Before you could turn to head backstage, Din grabbed your arm and reeled you in. He placed his hands at your waist and you let yours rest lightly on his forearms again. He leaned in and rested his forehead lightly against yours.
“You’re going to blow them away,” he murmured, and you felt that familiar feeling that he inspired start to well up in you. “Ready?”
You nodded. “You too, Din. Show them who you are.”
He pulled back and smiled at you. As you turned, you slid your hand down his arm and tangled your hands together. You walked backstage hand-in-hand.
The quartet was just finishing up when you found a place to stand together, out of the way of their exit. You caught Phil’s eye where he stood with his headset on by the tiny backstage lamp, and he nodded at you. You tugged on Din’s hand. “Here we go.”
He nodded at you and released your hand. You would go out first on your own, and then Din, and then you would be on stage together. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Just before you stepped forward, you heard Din murmur, “beautiful.”
You stepped into the wings with a smile playing around your mouth. And then the music started, and all you thought about was the dance.
…
You’d never felt like this before. You’d never danced like this before.
From the moment you stepped onto the stage, you could feel it – you were going to nail it. And you did.
You whirled through your solo, and leapt off the stage just in time for Din to enter after you. You watched him and you could see it – he felt it, too. You grinned, and then forced it off your face. He was a stranger, and you were meeting for the first time.
You spun back onto the stage at your cue and you felt his eyes trace across your shoulders like a caress. The two of you danced past each other, circled each other, glanced off of each other, just barely not touching. The connection between you pulled taut and you swore you could see where he was on stage even when you weren’t looking at him.
It would have stolen your breath away, if you had let it – you’d never felt so in sync with another dancer before.
The first movement ended with the two of you touching, briefly, and then dancing away from each other. As you were about to exit into the wings, you looked back, and caught him already looking at you. You both froze, and then darted off stage.
The audience burst into applause. You grinned at the dancers waiting backstage for Talia’s ballet, and they met you with silent cheers and pats on the shoulder as you passed.
You headed straight for the door to the backstage area, looking for Din.
He must have had the same idea, because as you turned into the hall that ran behind the stage, you found him almost jogging towards you, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him.
“You and me,” he said, breathlessly, and you nodded.
…
You had to wait through two longer pieces for the second movement, which would be between Talia and Vince’s collaboration piece and Jee’s. Wary of getting too cold, you returned to Din’s small dressing room, grabbing your sweats on the way. You didn’t want to break the bubble you could feel forming around the two of you.
Din pulled you into the room behind him and then into a loose hug. “I want to hold you tighter,” he murmured, “but this paint.”
You laughed. “It’s probably for the best.” He hummed. “Ok. We can rest for a minute, and then we need to get ready for the second. And go stay warm.” He nodded.
“You were beautiful.” His voice sounded deeper than normal and you shivered in his arms.
“So were you, Din.”
…
There was a barre set up backstage for warming up, and the two of you stayed there as you waited. You watched as the dancers heading backstage moved around you for Talia’s piece and then Talia and Vince’s collaboration, but you and Din stayed in your own little world. That wasn’t unusual, for a piece like yours. You practiced a couple of lifts just to have something to do.
You were ready.
With only a few minutes to go, Din leaned into you again. “Ready?”
You nodded. He grabbed your hand, this time, and led you backstage.
The piece Talia and Vince had collaborated on was almost over – it had three couples, a mix of principals and soloists, and you let yourself watch them for a few moments. When it was almost time, Din tugged you in again, foreheads together.
“Let’s blow them away,” you said, stealing his words from earlier. He smiled.
For the second movement, you started on stage, so you stepped away from Din to go take your place when the lights went down. Alone on stage, in the dark, you took a deep breath. As the music started, you stretched into position, and sank into your character.
You felt Din’s presence when he leapt on stage, and from there, the chase was on.
In the second movement, you circled each other, sometimes coming closer, sometimes moving farther away. Glancing touches brought you together and then hesitation drove you apart. You wanted to know each other, to understand each other, but you had to find a way to communicate. To make yourselves understood.
You began to mirror each other’s movements, to adopt each other’s styles. You found common ground between you to build on and with the first lift so firmly grounded, it felt like you flew into the air. Din held you aloft and then flipped you downwards, catching you in another hold. You spun away and felt him follow you, and the connection between you strengthened.
Just like the first movement, you could barely think, could only feel – and it felt amazing. You knew, distantly, that you and Din were performing at a level neither of you had managed alone. You had created something new, something that could only exist because you made it together.
The second ended with you and Din briefly together, and then your character shied away – you ran from him, twirling off stage without looking back. He reached for you just before the lights went down.
The audience erupted. You were grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. Adrian was backstage, ready for Jee’s piece, and he looked like he wanted to run over and hug you. But just then Din came through the wings behind you and you felt his arms circle your waist.
He didn’t pull you too close (the paint) but he leaned forward to breathe into your ear, “so fucking beautiful.”
You shivered, and Adrian winked at you. You laughed and tugged Din behind you into the hall.
You didn’t have as long of a break this time, only the length of Jee’s piece, which was only about 25 minutes. You knew you didn’t really have time to go far.
As you entered the hall, Din grabbed your hand, and made a sharp right. Just around the corner out of sight he backed you against the wall.
He leaned on the wall with his forearm by your head. For a moment neither of you said anything – you were both breathing hard, chests almost touching every time you took a breath. His eyes caught yours and you couldn’t look away.
“I’ve never…” he trailed off, and you nodded. You understood.
“Me neither,” you breathed, and his eyes darted down to look at your lips. The feeling that had built inside of you during the performance turned into fire.
“Din–” you started, but he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He pulled away almost as quickly.
“I know,” he said, “I know.” He leaned back, and looked at you again. “I never dreamed it could be like this. I think I was meant to dance with you.”
You were glad you were already leaning against the wall, because your knees threatened to give out at his words. “Me too,” you said. His hand came up to cup your cheek lightly, careful of your makeup.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s get ready for the third.”
You nodded and let him lead you back down the hall.
…
You thought you’d be nervous, as you stood in the wings before the third movement. You’d gone backstage a little bit earlier than before to watch Adrian, but it wasn’t distracting you.
But that might have had something to do with Din’s presence at your back and his hand tangled with yours.
You breathed together as you watched and sank back into your characters. In the third, you were almost always touching – almost always chasing or being chased, grabbing or holding on. The movements revolved around your need to be together and create something new together.
As Jee’s piece came to a close, you felt Din step closer. He kept hold of your hand but wrapped his other arm around your shoulders from the back. “One more,” he murmured in your ear. “Let’s show them who we are.” You smiled and nodded. He squeezed your hand.
In the third, you started off stage. In the wings you both took a deep breath, and then the music started. You darted on quickly with Din at your heels, and from there you were off.
He chased you across the stage, and you let him catch you on the other side. You twirled around each other, leaping together, pulling each other along. He supported you through turns and lifts and jumps and you let yourself sink into the music. You internally marveled at how you seemed to be two dancers with one brain – you would reach for him, and he would be there, every time.
When you reached the pique turn, a smile played around your mouth. Din tugged you backwards by your ankle, capturing you and lifting you into a spin. Your body moved through the familiar steps, and when it came time to launch yourself through the air so he could catch you, you fought a grin off your face.
He lifted you over his shoulder, and let yourself appreciate, just for a moment, the strength of the muscles in his back.
Din tilted you back up and let you slide down against his chest. You sank into it with ease, and the two of you let the moment linger. You met his gaze and saw the smile dancing behind his eyes.
From there the choreography built to a crescendo that had you breathing hard, coordinating your movements perfectly to stay in contact – your hand on his leg, his arm around his waist, your arm around his neck, his shoulders supporting you. It pushed you upward and forward until, suddenly, you stopped, facing each other. You breathed as the last note held, staring into each other’s eyes, and then slowly folded into an embrace that took you both to your knees.
The lights went out, and for a moment you couldn’t make sense of the sound that washed over you. You looked up at Din, and then out to the audience. It seemed like everyone in the theater had taken to their feet, cheering and applauding.
The rest of the company was backstage cheering, too.
Din leaned backwards and stood, offering his hand to pull you up, too. You took it, and he tugged you forward so that you had to lean into him just a bit. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then the lights came up.
You both turned to the audience, bodies moving into the familiar stance, ready to take your bows. But you were both taken aback when somehow the applause got louder.
You glanced at Din, but he swept you forward, and before you could stop him, presented you to the audience.
You smiled, and when it was his turn, did the same for him.
As soon as you were done, the rest of the company poured out of the wings to join you on stage, and the standing ovation seemed to go on forever. Adrian popped out of the crowd at your side and wrapped you both up in a hug, which startled Din and made you laugh. “That was fucking amazing!” he shouted in your ear, and you laughed. Din started to smile, too, and you squeezed his hand, still tangled with yours between you.
You looked at him as the company moved to take a final bow together, and for a moment, you couldn’t hear the noise around you at all.
You could only see Din, smiling at you, so widely his eyes crinkled.
Beautiful.
...
prev | next
a/n: they did it!! I'm so proud of them!!! next week... what happens after the gala? 😏 we finally earn those smut tags, lol. I don't really have any notes this week, but let me know if you have any questions! 🧡 and don't forget to check out the art!!
Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.2k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3
chapter summary: on the morning of the Gala, you were finding it harder than usual to shake off your nerves.
a/n: Happy New Year! Thank you for reading! I have a little something coming up this weekend (between chapters) for y'all for this fic. 👀Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!
chapter tags/warnings: fluff, a teensy bit of angst, flirting, touching, pet names (sweetheart), hand-holding, feelings
Chapter 12
The week before the gala was so busy, it actually helped take your mind off the simmering tension between you and your partner. It was as busy as the week before a big performance always was, but it had the additional pressure of Karga’s obvious excitement. He dropped in and out of rehearsals more than usual and didn’t stop until Alexa told him it was putting everyone on edge.
It distracted you enough to put some distance between you and the memory of Din kissing you. Enough distance for you to wonder what, exactly, Din had meant by “this” when he said he wanted it.
Does he want the same things I do? What do I want? You knew you wanted him. And you knew you didn’t just want him once.
Whatever connection you’d slowly and carefully built between you, brick by brick, you knew it was something more than that.
The question occupied you through your rehearsals that week, all the way through your final rehearsal with Kuiil in the studio on Wednesday. On Thursday you would begin rehearsals in the theater with the full orchestra.
At the end of your final rehearsal with Kuiil, he came to stand between you in the center of the room. You could see on his face that he was more than satisfied – he was happy with what you’d created in this room together.
“Both of you know that I am proud of you. You have created something special, between the two of you. Something that will surprise and delight and awaken the audience through your performance. I cannot wait for your fellow dancers to see it, and then to see it on stage.” He looked at Din and smiled. “You have truly grown, Din. In this role and as a dancer. I can see you finding yourself, not who you were told to be. Finding something new.” Din nodded, ducking his head and smiling. You grinned. “And you, my dear. You have been given bigger roles this year because you deserve them. You have surpassed them. This pas de deux is only a success because of you.” He looked back at Din. “Both of you.”
You felt your face burn and wished you could step closer to Din, or hold his hand. You stayed where you were.
“Remember to trust each other. To rely on each other. Dance as you have this week and you will simply fly across the stage.” He nodded once more and turned to leave. “Now, get some rest before tomorrow. We will meet early to block it on stage.”
Kuiil stepped out and you turned to find Din already looking at you. He was smiling. “He’s right, you know. This only works because of you.”
You shook your head. “This is a pas de deux, Din. A dance for two people.”
He laughed and stepped towards you. He reached for your hand and laced your fingers together. “It is. But I never would have been able to do it with someone else.” His gaze was dark and sure as he met your eyes. “I could only do this with you. I trust you. And you…” he trailed off and squeezed your hand. “You see me.”
You reached for his other hand and smiled. “You let me see you,” you countered, and he sighed.
He leaned forward and murmured in your ear, “let me say nice things about you, sweetheart.”
You shivered. Sweetheart. That was new. You liked it. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek before stepping back and releasing your hands. “Also. I wanted to tell you… for Saturday.”
You nodded. Saturday was the night of the Gala. “Saturday?”
Din looked suddenly nervous, tapping the fingers of one hand against his leg. “Grogu is going to stay with Peli. After the show.”
You blinked, and then you grinned. “You mean…”
He nodded, smiling back with more confidence when he saw your reaction. “Would you, um. Would you like to–”
“Yes,” you said, not even letting him finish. He smiled so wide his eyes crinkled.
“Good.”
For a moment you just smiled at each other, but then he stepped away. “I should go, before I’m tempted to hold your hand again.”
You laughed. “Get out of here, Din Djarin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he promised, and stepped out of the door.
…
On Thursday, pre-dress rehearsal, with the orchestra but without costumes, went just fine. Everyone was excited to see the pas de deux and their excitement was infectious, affecting you and Din and your performance. Their cheers from backstage made you laugh as you took your bow to the empty theater.
On Friday, before dress rehearsal, you tugged Din into a corner when you saw his face go a bit expressionless after he put on his costume.
“Hey,” you whispered, taking his hand. “What are you thinking?”
He shook his head and smiled wryly. “The practices helped. But I feel…” He looked down at himself and you struggled not to follow his gaze. “Exposed.”
You nodded. “Well, it is just shorts.” He huffed a laugh and then looked surprised at himself. “Hey, it’s just you and me, right? Just look at me. It’s just us. No one else but me.”
His face turned serious as he met your eyes. “I’m always looking at you.”
You weren’t sure what your face did in response, but it made him smile again. You watched as his shoulders relaxed and you smiled back. The feeling that welled up inside of you at his words carried you through your performance.
After dress rehearsal, Adrian swept you up in a hug after the third movement, exclaiming how amazing it was and how much he loved it. You grinned at Din over his shoulder and saw some surprise on the faces of the dancers around you when he smiled widely back. A few of them stopped him with compliments and it warmed you, to see him more at ease.
…
On Saturday, the day of the show, you woke up with unexpected nerves.
It was normal for you to feel a bit jittery before a show, but usually morning class or a short rehearsal settled you. It didn’t seem to work that day, though. Maybe it was because Alexa took it easier on all of you that day, or maybe it was something else. Either way, you finished morning class just as full of nerves as when you’d arrived. You could tell Adrian had seen it, but for the first time, he wasn’t the one who noticed first.
You sat down to pull off your shoes and a familiar dark outline appeared to your right. Din sat down next to you and nudged you with his shoulder.
“Hey,” he said, voice low. “You alright?”
You nodded, eyes on your shoes. “I always get a little nervous before a show, but I just…” you trailed off, looking around the room. Almost everyone was gone and Adrian was not-so-subtly ushering the rest out. It made you smile. “I can’t seem to shake it today.”
He looked at you without replying for long enough that you turned to look at him. He looked thoughtful.
“Come have lunch with me,” Din said.
You tilted your head. “Shouldn’t we–”
“Kuiil said no rehearsal today. Just stay warm and stretch. So come have lunch with me, and we can mark it later to stay warm until call time.”
You nodded. “Ok. Lunch.”
Din stood first and extended his hand to lift you to your feet. You followed him out the door and down the hall and then, to your surprise, to the front door of the building. You stopped him just inside to put on your jacket and sweats, to keep your muscles warm. “Where are we going?”
He smiled at you over his shoulder. “I’d take you home, since my apartment is close by, but I don’t quite trust us there yet.” He winked – winked – and you laughed. You felt a little bit of your tension ease. “There’s a place around the corner that I like.”
You figured he meant the diner, and smiled when you saw you were right. “I like this place, too.”
Soon enough you were seated and facing each other in a small booth in the back corner of the restaurant.
“So,” he said after you put in your orders. “What’s different about today?”
You turned that question over, considering it slowly. “I think…” you fiddled with your straw. “I’ve been thinking about what Kuiil said. About me taking on bigger roles. I’ve been trying not to analyze it too much, and what it could mean. But Adrian has been telling me all year they’d promote me next year, and I just don’t want to get my hopes up for it.” You glanced up at him and saw he was listening with a small frown on his face. “I don’t want to put that pressure on our performance tonight but I can’t seem to shake it.”
He considered you for a moment before reaching out and covering your hand with his, stilling your movements.
“You know,” he said, and the warmth in his tone caught your attention. “When we moved here, those first few days, I didn’t think this was going to work.”
You blinked, surprised. “What?”
He shook his head. “It seemed… like a bad fit. I was pretty sure I’d made the wrong decision. Worried I’d have to go crawling back to Concordia, or somewhere else.”
You thought back to those first few days, when he’d been around but hadn’t yet joined your classes. What had he been doing? Talking to Karga, maybe Kuiil? You thought back to his expressionless mask that he hadn’t dropped even for a moment for weeks and something clenched in your chest, imagining how unhappy he’d been. How lonely he must have felt. And no one had known. You flipped your hand and laced your fingers together with his.
“What changed?”
The corner of Din’s mouth lifted in a smile. “I saw you.”
“What? Where?”
His smile grew at your obvious shock. “In class, that first day. I was… overwhelmed, to put it mildly. I was trying to focus on doing my best, on making the best of everything, but I couldn’t stop looking at you.”
“I…” you thought back to that first day, when everyone had been watching him from across the room. “Me?”
He shook his head and huffed a laugh. “Yes, you. You’re beautiful, you know. And your dancing…” He closed his eyes, and you watched as he obviously pictured you dancing. Your mouth dropped open. “I told you why I left. What I wanted, and what CBC didn’t. It all came to a head earlier this year, when they cast me in Don Quixote and then took it away when they didn’t like my performance. I’m not sure that ever got out. That’s why I left so suddenly. Well, it was that, and it was because of Grogu.”
You blinked, surprised. “Grogu? Why?”
Din sighed. “I adopted him last year. They didn’t… they don’t approve of anything that takes your attention away from ballet. Even kids.”
“What?” you were shocked. Karga would never do that. “So no one has families?”
He shook his head. “Sort of. People do, and there’s the school with kids studying ballet, which is important to them. But for the company you have to prove that it won’t ‘distract’ you. And I wanted to spend too much time with him, according to them.”
You frowned, but he smiled. “Anyway. I knew I had to leave in the moment, but by the time I got here I was sure I’d fucked everything up. And then… there you were, doing everything the way I only dreamed was possible, after Kuiil told me there was more out there for me.” He opened his eyes again and when his gaze met yours you suddenly felt like you were flying. “You have the technique and the artistry. The feeling. I wanted to dance like that.”
Your mouth dropped open. “Just from that first class?”
He reached forward and grabbed your other hand. He brought both up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Yes, but then I watched you perform, and then we danced together, and even when it wasn’t working I was so happy to have found you. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
You felt your face start to burn and wished you could hide it in your hands, but he was still holding them, and you didn’t want to let go. “Din–”
“You know what I think about this – they should have promoted you already. But don’t think about that today. It’s just you and me, right?” He echoed your words from before dress rehearsal and squeezed your hands. “It’s just the two of us out there. And all we have to do is be there for each other.”
“Just us,” you repeated. You took a deep breath and smiled. You felt your shoulders drop and the tightness in your chest ease. “How did you know just what to say?”
He winked at you again. “I learned it from you.”
“Ok. It’s just us. We can do this. We know we can do this.”
He nodded, agreeing. “Good.”
...
prev | next
a/n: next week -- the Gala! keep an eye out this weekend for something special. 👀
Dress rehearsal/etc.: I've mentioned this before, I think, but in the week before a show with live musicians, you'd have at least one or two practices with them before the show most of the time. So they have one practice without costumes and one with (dress rehearsal). A lot of companies would do morning class in the theater on those days but in my head NBT is literally next door to the theater, if not on the same block. So they have morning class on Saturday and then a few hours before they have to be at the theater for call time.
For a piece like this it's possible some of the other dancers would have seen it, but Din has been so nervous, I decided he would probably not have wanted any guests in their rehearsals.
I'll touch on this more next week, but again for a piece like this, it's not uncommon for two dancers to need to get into a headspace for the performance that is just about the two of them. So others would not necessarily be surprised at them mostly talking to each other the day of the show.
