“I’m Travis by the way.” You could feel his warm breath as his low gravelly voice crested over your ear. He was so close, invading your space in the most exhilarating way. If you moved a fraction of an inch, your back would be pressed flush against him.
“Y/N,” You replied, trying desperately to keep your voice even.
“Well, Y/N,” He shifted slightly behind you, “I hope you have some kind of competitive spirit because I don’t like to lose, honey.”
You couldn’t stop your giggles as they fell from your lips. You grew up fighting for everything and anything you ever got. When it came to you, competitive was an understatement. You turned towards him, having to raise your chin significantly to meet his gaze.
“Try to keep up handsome,” You smiled a devilish smile as you spoke, “You look a bit too heavy to carry.”
His eyes blazed with a mixture of amusement and some other emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it was caused an increasing amount of heat to gather between your thighs and you squirmed slightly to soothe the ache it left behind.
“Stop flirting you two!” Murphy’s booming voice broke through the haze Travis created, “You’re up Y/N.”
“Game on,” Travis chuckled, his big hands reaching out to give you a gentle nudge forward, “Show me what you’ve got pretty girl.”
The game was down to one final throw, and you needed a fucking bullseye to win. You had gone shot for shot with Travis the entire game. He cheered you on with every hit you landed on the board and goddamn if that wasn’t doing something to you.
“Come on honey,” He cheered, clapping his hands together, “You got this!”
“Choke! Choke!” Murphy mocked from your side jokingly, but she was shot down quickly by Travis.
“Hell no peanut gallery, my girl is a badass, she’s got this on lock!”
You swelled with pride at his praise and decided there was no way in hell that you were going to lose. You let the dart fly without hesitation and before you could even register that it hit dead center, your legs were swept out from underneath you.
Travis had his arms tightly around you, squeezing your back to his front. His warm, mahogany scent invaded all your senses as he held you close. He turned you to face the losers and you joined him in rubbing in your joint victory.
“Ya’ll are sore winners!” Murphy exclaimed, “But I’ll still buy your next round.”
She turned on her heel and dragged her partner back towards the rest of Travis’s group. You expected Travis to let go but he didn’t. He set you back on your feet but kept his arms firmly wrapped around your middle. His fingers trace lazy circles on your stomach. You could feel him through the layers of clothes in between you and a shiver rippled down your spine.
“How about we skip those victory drinks and get fresh air instead, badass?” he asked as his index finger skimmed a bit lower.
You shifted backward into him, rubbing your ass slightly against what you were sure was his growing erection. He groaned, pulling you impossibly closer, his lips falling to the shell of your ear and giving it a gentle kiss.
“I have to let Murphy know where I’m going in case you turn out to be some kind of sexy murderer.” You joke, trying to cool the intense burn in your core.
He lets go and you gasp as he gives you a gentle tap on the ass, nudging you forward.
“Meet you outside, I promise to leave my chainsaw in the truck.” His lust-filled voice drives you forward, and you can't help but latch onto the bait he's cast.
"Leave the chainsaw," You call over your shoulder, sending him a playful wink, "But I can be talked into handcuffs."
Summary: Pretty thing, Din, and the child are all heading back to Navarro. Will the clan of two have room for one more?
Notes: Welcome to the last chapter of this series ! Typing this is so bitter sweet. Thank you to everyone who has liked, commented, reblogged, or even just read it. I have loved doing this and knowing that people love it to makes it all worth it. I hope everyone enjoys and I will be back to write more in the future (; Happy reading <3
With The Crest’s nav set to Navarro, all three of you were off. You weren’t sure how long it would take to get there from Daiyu, but you didn’t dare ask. You wanted to live out the remainder of your time, in this untouchable bubble created by hyperspace, in ignorant bliss. You didn’t want to wake up every morning with a number looming over your head dictating how many days you had left. Your plans allow you to live each of your days to the fullest. Well, as full as you can live your days in the small confines of a ship.
You had tried giving Din the bag of credits a couple more times since leaving Daiyu, but he refused to take them. Each time he would come up with a different excuse.
“Why don’t you hold onto them? You’re better at keeping track of things than me.”
His job is quite literally to track people down. You don’t think that there is a person in the whole galaxy that is better at keeping track of things.
“I don’t have anywhere to keep them right now.”
He has plenty of drawers in his room. While you haven’t opened them all, you know for a fact that one of them only houses the silver bell you gifted him. The bag of credits wouldn’t even take up half of the free space in there.
“Wait until we reach Navarro.”
What’s the difference between you giving him the credits now versus when you get to Navarro? Whatever. Fine. You’ll wait if that's what he wants to do.
While Din was actively pushing the credits away, he was doing quite the opposite to you. You found him more touchy feely than usual. Not that you minded in the least, but it was something you took note of. The first time you noticed it was after you had just put the child down for a nap. You busied yourself by cleaning up the remains of his lunch. You were surprised that he was even full after eating since he managed to spill half of his bowls contents on the ground. You hummed to yourself while you mopped up his mess and then moved on to reorganizing the pantry. It wasn’t until you felt strong hands wrap around your waist that your humming ceased. You broke into a smile and rested the back of your head on his chest plate. When humming started emanating from above you, your heart seemed to skip a beat. That warm, chocolatey, baritone voice came out unobstructed. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. Your whole body felt like it was made of fractured glass and if you moved, you would finally shatter. Shaky breaths came from you as the unmasked man continued your lost tune.
He had never done that before. He had never just walked around, without telling you, helmetless. You were filled with a whirlwind of emotions as his arms held you close and he started to sway behind you. You wanted him to feel comfortable on his own ship obviously, but there were risks. If he had just told you that he wanted to do that, you would have gladly taken a nap alongside the child or even taken an extra long shower. You didn’t want to accidentally see him and cause irreparable damage to his creed. As much as you truly wanted to see him, his creed came first. The longer you sway lightly with him, the longer your mind spends concocting a forbidden scenario. A scenario in which he wanted to be helmetless with you around. Your eyes drifted closed and you wrapped your arms around his. You felt a puff of air blow through your hair as he relaxed into your touch.
You don’t know how long the two of you held each other before you felt him place those coveted lips on your neck. He whispered that he’ll be back and not to turn around. You did as you were told, but stayed in an almost comatose like state until he returned to you. When he did, he helped you with the last of your cleaning. Conversation was easy and natural, but neither one of you mentioned his helmetless escapades.
The next time you noticed the change in his behavior was when the two of you were in bed together. He seemed to caress your skin with a different kind of softness, he moved inside you tenderly, and he never seemed satisfied with how many times he praised you. The word ‘safe’ couldn’t even properly convey how secure you felt in his arms. The two of you have had sex countless times, but why did this time feel so different? Calling it sex didn’t even feel right to you because it felt like so much more.
Maybe he was thinking the same way you were. Maybe he didn’t want to be alone in the cockpit just watching The Crest drift closer to its destination.
The one thing you know for sure: ignorance with Din is bliss.
Your stomach hasn’t hurt this much from laughing in years. You haven’t been able to catch your breath in what feels like five minutes and your burning lungs are evidence to the contrary.
“So you-you want me to say what?” You manage to choke out between fits of laughter.
You and Din had been talking over breakfast about shopping in Navarro for supplies when he remembered Karga. Or more specifically what Karga had called you.
“I want you to tell him that if he wants to call you those fucking names, he can say it to the end of your blaster.” He says matter-of-factly.
“Din,” you put your hand up to signal that you’re catching your breath. “There are two issues with that. Number one: I don’t have a blaster.”
You see him roll his head back in realization as you continue.
“Number two: even if I had a blaster…isn’t he like your boss or something? I don’t think I should go around holding up people that give you your jobs.”
“I don’t care about that,” he groans. “I just hate that he calls you those names. Those are for me.” He trails off at the end of his sentence.
You sit up straight and wipe the tears from your eyes. The baby squeaks as your body's adjustment jostles him in your lap.
“While you’re correct and those names are just for you, I can’t go around holding people at gunpoint. It would look weird and unnatural. You can get away with it because you look really good.”
“I look really good…when I hold people at gunpoint?”
You flick your wrist in the air at him. “Yeah. It’s one of the things you do that's not inherently sexual, but it,” you cover the kids ears. “Turns me on.”
Din leans back on his hands as he takes in what you just told him.
“Oh come on. Don’t you have a little list like that? Random things that just do it for you, but you can’t explain it?”
“Actually I do.”
“Now you have to share. At least one. It’s only fair.”
“Alright…when you tie your hair up before you do something.”
“Really?”
“You have a sort of soft expression on your face when you do it. As if you’re thinking about something and I always find myself wondering what that is. Tell me another one of yours.”
“Whenever you fix something on The Crest. I could watch you work for hours.”
“That explains why you’re always daydreaming when you’re helping me.”
“Guilty. Now you.”
“Whenever you’re taking care of the kid.”
“Din…I take care of him all the time.”
“I know!” He throws his hands up in exasperation. “You’re just so good with him.”
You cock your head to the side and give him a toothy grin. “Maybe I’ll use him to stop Karga. I’ll tell him to use his little baby magic.”
“I would like to see that.”
“I’m kidding! I’ll just talk to him like an adult.”
“Now who’s no fun.”
You roll your eyes at him playfully, situate the child on your hip and stand up. “Well, we don’t have to worry about that interaction for a while.”
“Actually, we arrive tomorrow.” He sounds somber as he says this.
When you turn back around to look down at him, his body language shows the exact same emotion that his voice carries. His shoulders seem deflated and his helmet is looking down into his lap.
“Maker, this ship travels fast.” you say almost breathlessly.
“Only when I don’t want it to.”
“Hey, hey.” You kneel down next to him, child still at your side. “I still haven’t paid you.”
“Not for lack of trying.” He says looking up at you.
You can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at his comment. “As I was saying: I still haven’t paid you. So technically, we still aren’t done. Would you care to hang out with me a little longer?”
“If that’s what my employer wants I think I can allow it.” His voice sounds a bit happier behind his beskar.
“Smart man.”
He wants to hang out with you for a lot longer. As soon as he told you when all three of you would arrive on Navarro he immediately regretted it. He noticed you never asked which was strange because you always did. Everytime Navarro came up in the conversation he would come close to telling you how far out you all were. He always stopped himself because right when he was about to do it, you would switch the topic. It was a bit freaky if he's being honest. It was as if you could sense what was coming and preemptively took action.
Now that it was out in the open he felt sick. He watched your shoulders tense up when his words registered in your head. He was selfishly grateful that he couldn’t see your face. He didn’t want to watch the smile that was just on it drop. He didn’t want to know he was the reason it happened. As your body turned back around, he dropped his gaze into his lap. He knew it was cowardly. Then he heard your sweet voice coming closer to comfort him. He should have been the one comforting you after torpedoing your happiness. Yet here you are in all your beauty and goodness.
You place a kiss on his pauldron. The beskar quickly cools your lips as they make contact. A sigh of contentment quietly seeps out from behind the modulator.
“How are you always so good to me?” He says earnestly.
“It’s easy to be good to someone you like and I just so happen to like you.”
“What did I do to deserve that?”
“You saved me when I thought I wasn’t salvageable.”
“Oh, Cyar’ika. I think it was the other way around.”
As you hop out of the shower and wrap your dripping body in a towel, you go over your mental checklist. Baby fed and asleep? Check. You fed and showered? Check. Grocery list for The Crest? Check. Grocery list for Din’s special dinner? Double check.
Shopping for the ingredients you need for Tiingilar is the sole reason you have any excitement regarding arriving on Navarro. You have never been so excited to cook something in your entire life. With all of the food stalls that help make up the market, you were confident that you would find everything you need. Or at least things close enough to what you need. Maker, you hope you don’t mess it up. You remember how excited Din got while he talked about the dish. You want to make it correctly for him.
You dry your body off while you continue down the rabbit hole that is your mind. You didn’t want to look for another place to live. The Razor Crest and all of the inhabitants that come with it are your home. You had to figure out a way to let Din know that. To let him know that you wanted to stay. To stay with him. But when would you do it? It couldn’t just be something you causally brought up. You wanted it to be special just like he was.
“Dank Ferrik! The stew!”
You heard a muffled voice ask if you were alright through the fresher door.
“All good! I’ll be out in a second.”
You would tell him what you wanted when you gave him the stew. It was perfect. You would tell him that you wanted both him and his son. They were a package deal after all. Your clan of two.
With your towel wrapped tightly around your body, you exit the fresher. The cool air of the hull causes bumps to form on your slightly damp skin.
“Well, don’t you look cozy.”
You approach Din’s bed with the intention of stealing one of his shirts, but your mind goes blank when you see him lounging on his bed with one of his hands behind his helmet. The rest of his body is hugged deliciously tight by his black pants and shirt.
“It would be better if you joined me.”
“All good things to those who wait.”
You keep eye contact with his visor as you kneel down to reach his clothing drawer. You pull it open and locate a shirt by touch alone. As you go to stand, you release your grip on your towel. A sense of deja vu runs through your veins as the cloth falls to the ground below you. Din’s chest has started to rise and fall more quickly now. You have yet to get rid of the bumps covering your skin. The black, long-sleeve shirt in your hand is the only thing shielding your body from his eyes.
“I would wait for you for a million years.” He says quietly.
Your cheeks burn under his words and you slip his shirt over your body. With the break in eye contact, you feel as if you’re able to breathe correctly again. The dark fabric that used to feel coarse on your skin has now become its source of comfort. You walk to the edge of his bed and smile softly at him.
“You always did look better in my clothes than I did.”
“Hey Din, do you think that…” You trail off.
“What is it, Mesh’la?” He props himself up on the bed.
“Do you think that you could just hold me tonight?”
“You don’t even have to ask. I’ll do anything you want.”
He pulls the covers down beside him and motions for you to climb in. You feel silly for asking, but right now you just need to be held by him. When he cradles you, it's as if no person or thing alive can harm you. The feeling of being wrapped in his arms is one that you will never tire of. It’s a feeling of safety that was stolen from you in childhood. A feeling that has finally returned to you and you have no intention of letting it go. As amazing as him fucking you is, sometimes you just need innocent intimacy. You feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter when he so readily gives it to you. How sad that the bare minimum does so much for your fragile heart.
He truly knew you inside and out. You didn’t know it, but he wanted you so desperately he would do anything. If you could see his eyes under the visor, the pure need in them would have blinded you. He wanted you in the morning, in the afternoon, and in the evening. He wanted you when you were angry, sad, and happy. He wanted you even if you told him you never wanted to have sex again. He wanted you breath, body, and soul. You lit up his worlds. If holding you was what you wanted, then he would do that until the universe burned out.
You shimmy your body down under the covers and are immediately pulled into his embrace. His smell circles you just as much as his arms do. Your sigh of relief is cut short by the bottom of his helmet brushing against the top of your head.
“I think I left my band on the sink in the fresher. Let me go grab it so you can take this off.”
When you make a move to get up, you feel his arms snake around you tighter. You let out a small laugh as he pokes at your side.
“But I like you here.”
“And I like being here with you too, but you need to get some fresh air. Let me just go get my band. I promise I’ll be quick.”
“Are you afraid you’ll turn to stone if you look at me?”
You are pretending to struggle against his arms when he says this. As soon as his words settle, your body goes slack. He pokes at your side again, but you don't move.
“It’s not me that I’m afraid for.”
“If I’m not worried about me, then you shouldn’t be.”
“I could wake up in the night and accidently open my eyes or I could get up before you in the morning or I-”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then trust yourself. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t trust you. The lights will still be off so everything will be dark like normal. The only difference is that I’ll be … unrestricted.”
“Unrestricted, huh? That’s what you’re gonna call it?”
“If that takes away some of the anxiety you feel, then yes. We practiced in the shower a little bit ago, remember?”
Now it’s your turn to poke him in the side. “I don’t think I could forget.”
“I like that I have that effect on you.”
The two of you sit in silence for a few more seconds before Din makes a move to sit up. You mirror him and hug your knees into your body. You watch him reach for the light switch. He turns to look at you and then everything goes dark. You swear you can still see the outline of him etched into the blackness, but then it fades away.
“Can I take it off you?”
He doesn’t say anything, but you feel rough hands connect with the tops of your knees. They slide their way down until they reach your own hands. You allow him to pull them upward until you get your answer. He has brought you to his helmet.
You shift your body forward so you are now resting on your knees instead of your ass. You never once let go of him in the process. As if he would melt into the darkness if you did. The two of you feel roughly the same height; you on your knees and him sitting on the bed. You breathe out slowly before you start to lift the beskar. You hear him take a modulated breath in, you lift, then an unmodulated breath out. The exhale tickles your wrists.
“There’s that fresh air you were talking about.” He whispers.
The gravel in his voice makes your stomach flip.
You continue moving the helmet up until you feel his hair brush against the insides of your arms. As you are bringing it down in between the two of you, he takes it from your hands. The cot creeks as he leans over and sets it down outside the room haphazardly. When you feel him return to his original position, you reach out into the inky blackness. You connect with his chest, hard and muscular, first. His heartbeat is strong as you travel back up to his face. You smile when your thumb glides across his plump lips. Using that as your guide, you bring your own lips to meet his. You tilt your head to the side as you deepen the kiss. His hand comes up to rest on your left thigh.
“That was for taking a chance on a girl you didn’t know.”
You move your lips higher and place them on the curve of his nose.
“What was that one for?”
“That was for showing me that family isn’t always blood.”
Again you climb higher and your lips come to rest in the center of his forehead.
“And that one?”
“It’s a secret…for now.”
You fall asleep before him. He notices that you always pass out quicker when your head is tucked into his chest. His heartbeat acts as your perfect white noise machine. While it is tempting to drift off with you, he loves moments like this. When time stops and the only thing that exists is you in his arms. He likes to count how many times you breathe each minute. It's repetitive, it’s methodical, it’s you. Your scent also changes at night. Your natural smell becomes deeper and richer. Din smiles because he knows that evidence of your slumber will be left in the morning in ways only he can decipher.
He pulls you closer and offers up desperate prayers to The Maker that tonight isn’t the last night he gets to hold you like you’re his.
Din just told you that the ship would be dropping out of hyperspace soon and to collect the kid. Coincidentally, the child chose this exact moment to play hide and seek without informing you.
“Your dad is gonna kill us if we aren’t in our seats and strapped in.”
You growl under your breath as you check under all of your bed’s covers, in the fresher, and Din’s bedroom. There are only so many places on this ship. Where the fuck could he be? Just as you are walking to the back of the hull to inspect it, you hear a small noise. You stop in your tracks and hold your breath. It only takes a few seconds for the sweet sound to faintly ring out again. You had only heard it a couple of times months ago, but you had committed it to memory.
“Gotcha, you gremlin.”
You make a beeline back to Din’s bedroom. You hadn’t checked the drawers on his bedroom wall because you never imagined that the baby would get in there. You push the button to make the door slide open and crawl onto the bed. Words laced with discipline formulate on your tongue as you pull open the drawer. However, as soon as you lay your eyes on him, all that is forgotten. He is lying comfortably on his back with the bell you made for Din in his hand. He beams up at you and waves which causes the bell to jingle in his tight grip. Hard as you try, you can’t keep your composure. Any and all annoyance at him for avoiding you has melted away.
“I’m not sure how the hell you got in there, but I know how you’re going to get out.”
You scoop up the babe and make your way out of the bedroom. Each step you take is narrated by the bells candied twinkling.
“There you two are. I thought I was going to have to send a search party.”
You give Din a dry laugh as you make your way through the cockpit doors and take your seat.
“Hey! I was ready when you said to be! It was your son that decided to dick around.”
“Blaming a child on your tardiness?” you hear him sarcastically click his tongue. “How irresponsible.”
“Fine,” you bounce the baby in your lap so the bell's tune can be heard throughout the small room. “I was going to reprimand him for taking your things, but that would be something a responsible person would do. And that’s not me according to you, is it?”
He had his chair facing you as soon as the sound rang out. A wicked smile crept its way across your face when you got his undivided attention. You could feel him trying not to laugh from behind his helmet.
“What? I thought you wanted to teach him how to share. This is a great way to start.” Your words are soaked in fake innocence.
“He can learn to share with something else.”
“What’s wrong with the bell?”
“You gave it to me.” He leans forward in his chair.
“I remember.”
“So think of it as an extension of yourself. I don’t want to share any part of you with anyone else.”
For the second time today you lose your composure. Try as you might, your smile turns from one of playfulness to one of sincerity. The only two individuals in the universe that could break you this quickly were on this ship.
“You can’t say things like that. It’s not fair.”
“How is anything that I just said ‘not fair’?” You can hear him finally cave in and laugh as he leans back in his seat.
“It gets me all flustered and then I lose my train of thought.”
“Well then, mission accomplished.”
You go to roll your eyes at him, but they catch on a lever on the control panel. You motion with your chin to the silver ball that's screwed onto the top of it. Din looks where you gestured and nods in agreement. He twists off the ball and clears his throat. The child looks up at his father and coos sweetly.
“You want this? You want the ball?”
The creature in your lap holds both of his hands up and screeches happily at the sight of his favorite toy. With the hand that isn’t occupied by the bell, he reaches for what his dad is holding.
“Ah ah ah,” you chide. “You have to give up your dad’s bell.”
The child looks up at you with pleading eyes, but you shake your head at him and repeat what you already said. He conveys his emotions by shaking the bell angrily.
“Come on.” Din offers. “It would make me really happy to have that back.”
Unable to withstand his fathers gentle words, he holds out what you gifted Din so long ago. You kiss his green head while Din praises him and hands him the toy. Din holds the bell in his hand and rolls it around.
“It’s still the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“I thought you said no one had ever gotten you a gift before?”
“I wasn’t lying, but that doesn’t mean that anything else could ever top this.”
Everyone is strapped in and all items have been returned to their rightful owners. You don’t even get nauseous anymore when The Crest drops out of hyperspace. You sit snugly in your seat as Din pilots the ship down towards the planet's surface. His biceps flex underneath his black shirt as he maneuvers the steering. A much more amusing sight to see than the barren lands that Nararro has to offer. He chose to land the ship in its usual spot: right outside the city’s arch.
Everyone makes their descent into the hull to get ready to depart for the meeting in the cantina. While you are making sure the child is snug in his crib, a hand palms your ass. You turn around with a smirk to see the perpetrator heading to the armory.
“I’ll get you back for that, Tin Man.”
“That’s a sweet thought,” He says nonchalantly as he opens the double doors. “Too bad nothing gets past me.”
“We’ll see about that.”
The confidence in your voice must have made him think twice about his last statement because he pokes his helmet out from behind the doors. You hold back a laugh and throw him a wink before walking away to grab your tote.
You quietly count your separate stash of spending credits while you wait for Din to be ready to leave. You didn’t want to ask him to borrow money for food since this was going to be something special for him. You would do the rest of the food shopping for The Crest tomorrow. There seems to be enough credits to get all of your ingredients, but now to think of a ruse. You will need to slip out of the cantina while Din was talking business with Karga. Unfortunately, there is some truth to what he had said earlier. Nothing really gets past him. Looks like you are going to have to recruit some help from a little green creature. After tucking the money away, you head back over to the youngling that's patiently playing with his silver ball in his pram.
“I need your help.” You whisper to him.
His ears perk up and his eyes lock on you. “I need you to cry in the cantina so I can take you outside and we can go shopping for a special dinner for your dad. I’ll make sure I sit out on the outside of the booth and tap on my thigh. That will be your signal to start crying, okay? Do you think you can do that, little one?”
Your accomplice nods firmly and waves his toy around. Maker, you hope the two of you can pull this off.
“Ready, Mesh'la?”
Oh the way that name still made you feel.
“Yes.” You hum as you watch him close the armory and make his way to the ramp.
The baby coos out as if to say he was ready too. You swing your tote over your arm and walk over to him. He tilts his head at you when he sees that you have your bag, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he hits a button on his arm plate and ushers the child towards the two of you. You take it upon yourself to open the ramp. Before it has a chance to reach the ground you stand on your tip toes and kiss the cheek of Din’s helmet.
“Are you going to tell me what that third kiss was for now?”
You almost cave and tell him when he turns to look down at you. “I think I’ll keep it a secret for a little while longer.”
You couldn’t help but feel appreciated at Kargas' boisterous welcome. You gave him an enthusiastic wave which juxtaposed the nothingness that Din awarded him with. As you approach the table, a hand finds its home on your lower back.
“I do hope you don’t have a headache this time, my dear. I still haven’t forgotten about that drink you owe me.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” The sarcasm in your voice goes undetected by the man already sitting down.
“Join me, please.” Karga waves his hand to the seats opposite of him.
This time you motion to Din to sit down first. For the second time today, he gives you a slight head tilt, but doesn’t say a word. He just slips off his rifle and props it up next to him inside the booth. You wink at the baby as you sit next to Din; your plan is falling into place.
“I’ll take a drink with you, but you have to do something for me.”
“Anything for you, sweet.” Karga has already started pouring you a shot.
“I don’t mean any disrespect, but I would love it if you called me by my name.”
He places the drink in front of you and sets the bottle down revealing his already full shot glass.
“You? Disrespectful? Never.”
“I’m glad you think so. So do we have a deal?”
“A deal?” He holds the shot in his hand, but raises his eyebrow.
You follow his lead and grab your glass. “Yes. I will take a drink with you if you will call me by my name from now on.”
“Your companion has gotten quite good at negotiations, Mando.”
Out of the corner of your eye you see Din nod at Karga and then turn his gaze to you. You know he would have much rather you use a blaster to make your point, but he trusts you to handle the situation in the way you deem fit.
“I learned from the best.” You nod at Karga. “So…do we have a deal?”
“You drive a hard bargain. I accept, my dear- I mean…” He corrects himself and uses your name this time. “Don’t you love when a woman knows what she wants, Mando?”
The two of you clink your glasses on the table and down your drinks. Thankfully Din had the sense to place his hand on your thigh after you swallowed your beverage. If he hadn’t…poor Karga would have been drenched in blue liquor. Maybe it's the leather wrapped hand on you or the alcohol blazing its path down your throat, but your body feels warm. If you didn’t have something to do, you would have allowed yourself to slip into this feeling and just bask. Before the urge to stay gets too strong, you pat on the thigh that's unoccupied by Din’s hand.
The baby, thank The Maker, cries right on cue. Karga and Din just started to discuss the matter of pucks, but stop when they hear the wails. Since you are sitting on the edge of the booth, you quickly hop up and whisk him into your arms.
“Oh sweetie,” you croon. “What’s the matter?”
True to his part, the child keeps on sobbing.
“Are you hungry?”
He shakes his small head while you continue to cradle him in your arms.
You lift your head up when Din calls your name. “I can hold him for you. Maybe he just feels left out?”
“It’s alright, really. You’re talking business. Why don’t I just take him for a walk around the city? He’s probably just tired from being cooped up.”
“I don’t think I want the two of you out alone-”
“Nonsense, Mando! This city has never been safer! You should know that since you were one of the ones that helped me start the clean up process.” You can feel the pride that Karga has radiating off him.
“See? We’ll be fine. I promise that we’ll walk for a little while and then head back to The Crest to wait for you. Does that make you feel better?”
“A little.”
You can sense the uneasiness in him from where you are standing. Without thinking you lean over and place your hand on his shoulder. It’s a small act of affection, but you know it will be enough to help calm him.
“I think everyone around here knows that that kid and I are with you. Nobody in their right mind would mess with us unless they want a blaster hole through their head.”
“Promise you will go back to the ship after you are done walking?”
“We have the bone broth, the spices, the vegetables, the grains, and now the meat!” You tell the baby as you tuck the wrapped cold cut into your tote. “I’m actually surprised we found nerf meat here. I guess that's for the best since I know for a fact I can cook this stuff.”
On one hand you felt kinda shitty leaving Din to fend for himself against Karga, but he did that before you came along right? What’s one more time? On the other hand, one on one time with the child outside the setting of the ship has been refreshing. Not that he was fussy to begin with, but all the sights and sounds of the market kept him content. A few people had actually come up to you while you were shopping to compliment him.
“He is just adorable!”
“My, my he is such a well mannered young thing!”
“Your son has such beautiful eyes.”
You took each complement with a grain of salt, but that last one did you in. Your son. You didn’t have the heart to correct the old woman that gave the compliment. The strange part was that it didn’t feel wrong either. He truly felt like your son. You woke him up in the mornings, you clothed him, fed him, played with him, bathed him, put him to bed, and most of all you loved him. You didn’t think there was a maternal bone in your body until you met him. But when you did…everything just clicked.
“Let’s head back to The Crest.” you say looking down at the kid in his floating pram. “I’m so excited to get started on this for him!”
You don’t think you have prepared for a meal so fast in your life. The market took a bit longer than you expected, so you knew that you were on borrowed time. All you could do was pray that Karga was in a chatty mood and that Din was in the mood to put up with him.
“Maker, Din.” You sigh in exasperation. “Why the fuck do you have to be such a damn minimalist?”
You have every bowl, cup, plate, and utensil laid out in front of you. In total you had three bowls, three cups, three plates, three forks, and two spoons. You suspect that the child got a hold of the last spoon a while ago. In each of the three bowls you separated the cut up vegetables, the grains, and the broth. On the first plate went your deadly blend of spices. On the second plate held the chopped up Nerf meat. You figured that you could use it as a makeshift frying pan when you placed it on the hotplate. The third plate would be where you would set the meat once it finished cooking. Your body felt tired, but there was no time for caf. Your only thought was him.
The baby plays next to you happily while you flip the chunks of steak. Every so often you sprinkle a bit of your spice blend onto it. You really were in the dark with the exact measurements and ratios, but you definitely remember him saying that it should be hot enough to singe some nose hair off. So, you hold your breath and dump the rest of the seasoning onto the meat. In an instant the hull is filled with the smell of the concoction. Your eyes are watering and your lungs burn from inhalation. Through tears you can see the little one beside you trying to rub his own eyes.
“F-fuck,” you cough. “I should have left the ramp down!”
You grab the child, both of you coughing, and head to the ramp. When it opens the two of you stumble out into the clean air. You kneel on the lava rock ground and set him down in front of you. You ache to alleviate the stinging in your own eyes, but tend to the youngling first. Taking the hem of your shirt, you reach out and rub those big, round eyes of his.
“I’m so sorry, my love. I didn’t realize that was going to happen. Are you alright?”
He nods his head, but scratches at his nose with his little claw.
“I think I got everything out of your eyes, but let's stay out here for just a few more seconds.”
You close your own to help with the pain. As you do this, you can hear the kid laugh. It soothes the worried feeling that once had its grip on you.
“What are you two doing out here? Wait. What happened?!”
Din must have seen the kids' bloodshot eyes over your shoulder. You can hear him quicken his pace to reach where you landed after your little cooking accident.
“We’re fine, Din.” You look up at him. “We just got something in our eyes and came outside for some fresh air.”
“You are not fine. Your eyes are red and watering. What happened?”
You can hear compassion and concern behind his stern tone. As you open your mouth to reassure him again, he kneels beside you and takes your face in his hands. The soft leather of his glove wipes away the wetness on your face.
“Now, please. Tell me what happened, Mesh'la.”
“How can you call me that when I look like this, huh?”
“You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Even when you look like this.”
You feel your face get hot and this time it wasn’t because of the spices.
“Fine. I was cooking and I- Oh Maker! I was cooking! The food!”
You bolt from his grip and duck back inside The Crest. Thankfully the open ramp allowed for the contaminated air to be swept out. The meat is still cooking on your homemade skillet. It looks a little charred, but fortunately nothing you can’t scrape off. You quickly move it to the other plate so it can cool.
“I leave the two of you alone for an hour and the ship almost blows up because of what you’re cooking?”
“Wait, Din!” You can hear him coming up the ramp so you position your body in between him and the food. “Please. I know this is going to be annoying, but can you wait outside for a little while?”
He stops before he steps inside the hull. You can feel the curiosity radiating off of him. The child holds one of his fathers fingers as he gets swaddled in his arms.
“How long?” He tilts his head to the side in an attempt to see what you’re trying to conceal.
“I’ll go as fast as I can. Would you be more patient if I told you that I’m working on something for you?”
“For me?”
There it is again. His voice is airy with disbelief.
“Yes,” you never want him to have doubts. Especially about you and your intentions with him. “It’s something for you. Now will you please wait outside?”
He finally caves and heads back outside still carrying the child. You breathe a sigh of relief and turn to face your barely made meal.
“Okay, no biggie. I just have to warm the broth, cook the grains, boil the veggies in the broth, and add the meat.” Fuck.
The sun has begun to set on Navarro and with the loss of its warmth, the air becomes crisp and cool. He prepared for that. The child sits in between his legs as he pokes at the growing fire he erected. When he finishes with the stick, he tosses it in the flames to be consumed like its brothers and sisters. Embers float up and around and the baby coos in excitement as he watches them dance. Din peers down at the little creature nestled so closely to him. One of his claws rests on the top of his boot. He wiggles his foot a little making the babe laugh and hold on tighter. A quiet laugh escapes his modulator into the night air.
“So, were you in on the little stunt she's pulling in there?”
Brown eyes look up and peer into his visor. Din thinks he can see the slightest grin on his kids face.
“That’s what I thought.”
Din turns his gaze to the multicolored sky. It reminds him of you. At first you were as foreign to him as sun sets were. He wasn’t comfortable with the pinks, oranges, and purples that they created. They only served to remind him that he wasn't in space tracking a quarry. You were just a stranger living on his ship that was fueled by the anger her past brought her. But then as time went on, and the sun finally set, you transformed into a shimmering display of stars. A display that he knew very well. You became something he knew better than himself at times. You were a woman living on his ship that was stronger than the anger and the pain her past brought her.
Your humming floats out from the open ramp to his ears. You were definitely working hard on something in there. He just had no idea what it could be. If you served him a bowl of mud he would eat it with a genuine smile plastered on his face.
“Hey! That’s a really nice fire guys!” You walk up and place your hands on Din’s shoulders. “The surprise is ready. I hope the two of you are hungry!”
You stand back as Din picks up the child and rises up himself. Try as you might, you can’t fight the butterflies in your stomach when he turns to face you. He seems to linger on your hair or more accurately what you did to your hair. The chaos of cooking caused you to pull your hair into a ponytail because once again it can never seem to stay behind your ears.
“Ready?” You ask excitedly.
“Ready.”
You take his free hand and guide him up the ramp. Your body is buzzing with anticipation. You had already set out cups of water and spoons, but you opted to hide the tiingilar until everyone was seated.
“Okay, Din you sit on the floor here,” you point to the ground. “A you, the greatest little helper a woman could ask for, sit here.”
The two of them obey your seating chart and you scurry to go collect the bowls of freshly made tiingilar. You realized that the baby definitely wouldn't be able to handle the level of spice in the stew, so you made sure to set a bowl aside before you added the spice coated meat. Balancing three bowls in your hands, you slowly walk back.
“Alright so I want you to know that I tried my best to make it as accurate as possible. I didn’t have very much information to go on so…”
You kneel down in front of them and set the food down. You give the child his bowl first and then give Din his. As soon as he sees what it is, the air inside his lungs evaporates.
“Y-you made…”
“Tiingilar.” you quietly offer. “Or at least I tried too.”
“Cyar’ika, I can’t believe you did this.”
He hasn’t stopped staring at his food since you placed it down in front of him.
“I wanted to do something special for you. You have done me a service that I know I can never truly repay, but I wanted to find a way to say thank you. I heard the way your voice lit up when you were telling me about it and I just…I just wanted to give you some of your home back.”
Your name falls from his mouth in a whisper. You reach out and place your hand on his knee and rub your thumb softly. You glance over at the child who is too wrapped up in eating his meal to pay either of you any mind. When a gloved hand finds its way on top of yours, you turn your attention back to Din.
“My home became wherever you were the moment you walked onto my ship whether I knew it or not.”
Your eyes well with tears at his statement. His grip tightens around your hand and he pulls you onto him. He must not have known his own strength because the force with which he pulled you had him flat on his back and you on his chest. His arms lock around your body and pull you flush with his. Beskar or no beskar, you would take a hug from him like this anyday. The pure, unbridled happiness you feel in this moment causes a sob to rip through you.
“What’s wrong, pretty thing? Did I hurt you?”
“N-no,” you wipe your slick face. “I’m a lot tougher than I look.”
“That’s my girl.”
The smile you are wearing could put the brightest sun in the galaxy to shame.
“I want to stay, Din. I want to stay here with you. I want to stay here with the child. I want to stay here on this blasted ship even if that means I have to learn how to rewire the whole damn thing myself.” You prop yourself up on his chest. “You’re my home.”
You lean down and kiss the forehead of his helmet. Before he even speaks you hold your right hand up to stop him.
“Yes. Now I will tell you what that third kiss was for. It was for teaching me that it was safe to let someone in again. That it was safe to…love someone.”
Your confession makes him sit up and causes you to slide into a straddling position.
“Are you saying you love me?”
“Until the universe burns out.”
“Breath, body, and soul.”
You throw your arms around his neck and bury your head in the fabric of his cape. You did it. You told him how you feel and he not only accepted it, but said it back in his own little way. Only The Maker knew the depth of your bliss in this moment.
“I have something I need to tell you.”
“Hmm.”
“Let me look at you. I want to see your face, Mesh'la.”
You pull back and take his helmet in your hands. You nod to let him know you are ready and listening.
Fandom: Edens Zero | Pairing: WEISZMURA| One-shot |
One Condition
The building was about to collapse. The tremors in the earth were getting stronger and Weisz feared that they would not escape in time.
The Edens Zero was waiting for them, hovering over the orbit of the planet, waiting for the moment they appeared on their monitors to be transported back on board ... if only Shiki was with them. The blond man knew that the androids would prioritize the life of their beloved Demon King, he and Homura had to survive on their own until the ship's boss was safe.
The basement they ran through was dark, only the distant light of some windows helped them see where they were running. They should be quick, but also cautious. There were still enemies around who preferred to eliminate them before saving their own skin. Weisz kept his gun loaded and ready to fire at any moment. He didn’t have to look back to know that his partner also had her weapon ready.
They hid behind a column. Around him, pieces of rubble fell like a rain of stones. He concentrated on his surroundings, the hairs on the back of his neck rose and with a quick movement he pointed his weapon to one side. A shadow scuttled behind a vehicle crushed by roof fragments. Weisz did not hesitate, he fired and the beam of light pulverized the debris, the vehicle and whatever was hidden behind them.
"We must flee soon" Homura said in her serious and calm tone. "The roof will not stand long"
"I know," he replied and looked at the door that awaited them at the bottom of the basement. "That seems to be the only way out, but we don’t know if it's safe there"
"There's only one way to find out," she said raising her sword defensively and taking a step toward the door.
"Wait," Weisz put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Let me go first"
"No" Her response was dry and direct "I'm faster than you, if there's someone behind that door I can ..."
"You'll be quick, but no more than this baby" He smiled at her with a confidence he didn’t know he had, as he raised his newly modified weapon with his ether gear "If there's someone there I'll pulverize them before they can think" Homura did not seem convinced, her rigid posture and that bright determination in her eyes stood out in the gloom of the basement. But Weisz was not going to let her take a chance.
"Okay," she agreed after the silent glaring contest. "Just be careful," she said with a softer tone, but still looking tense and worried. The boy gave her a side smirk, trying to ease the pressure on her.
"With one condition…"
He didn’t have time to think of anything to exchange. Homura took him from the neck of the shirt and threw him towards her joining their lips in an unexpected kiss. The contact of their mouths gave him a shock of unreality, just for a moment he didn’t care being under a building that was falling apart, or about to escape to a place full of villains who only wanted to kill them. For only that moment the only thing that mattered was the girl who was kissing him.
"You're not that fast," she told him, letting go. He was still somewhat disoriented, lost in his little fantasy world. She took advantage and ran to the door at the bottom of the basement, her sword ready, marking a path of light with her ether gear.
Weisz cursed himself for letting himself be distracted like that. He prepared his weapon, while the adrenaline rushed through his system and began to run after his partner. Fear flooded him with the uncertainty of not knowing what could be on the other side.
The roof debris fell around him and he dodged it with agility, without losing sight of the light that emanated from the sword of ether.
There’s no way he would let her face alone the dangers that lurked outside. He would leave the collapsing building with her and together they would reach the Edens Zero.
At least, that he promised to himself when Homura broke the door with a swift movement of her sword and the enemy's shouts were heard from outside.
you’ll be okay if he goes.
you’ll be okay if he leaves.
could you stand it if he stayed, really?
could you?
you only ever had one condition:
if it stopped being true, the words
on your lips, the knowledge that
feelings can grow false, and that
love can go sour, it’s
better to let him go before it all
shatters—as long as he won’t forget.
you can’t bear to be forgotten.
you’ll be okay if he goes (of course), but
if only.
if only he would remember.
A/N: I had a couple requests on here and another couple on AO3 for a follow-up to Nothing to Discuss, where the reader and Spencer work things out. @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn
----
After leaving Spencer to take Henry to the hospital, you drove home in tears and crawled into bed, hoping to fall asleep, wake up tomorrow, and have all of this disappear. But apparently luck wasn’t on your side today. It was less than an hour later when you heard a steady stream of knocks at your door. “Y/N, open up!” Spencer screamed. “I’m not leaving, so you might as well just talk to me.”
He wasn’t going to leave and you knew it, so instead of screaming back, you walked to the door in a coma, your blanket still wrapped around you, and opened the door, quickly turning back toward the couch to take a seat as he let himself in. “How could you not tell me I’m going to be a father?” he yelled, his face red with rage. He must’ve dropped Henry off and run straight back here.
For some reason, you were almost zen. He was in the wrong, but so were you. You both had faults that you needed to work on. These had just been the cards life had dealt you. “Why did we break up?” you asked him flatly, your voice giving no indication to how you actually felt.
You could see he wanted to yell, but he took a deep breath. “Because I was always at work, even when I didn’t have to be I wasn’t home. I was there.”
“Exactly,” you said. The tears had filled up in your eyes, but you weren’t actively crying. They just sort of fell from you. “For a reason I may never truly understand, you weren’t ready to commit to an actual give and take relationship with me. I was there for you when you needed me, but I rarely got the same in return. You stayed late in the office when you didn’t have to. And it’s not work, Spencer, I get that your job is unique, but it was as if you didn’t care to be home. I was second to your job, and I didn’t deserve to be, so I left.”
He knew you were right in that regard. After his few failed relationships coupled with the restraints of his job, he’d had a difficult time learning to balance the two - pretty much failing in regards to the relationship. “I’ve been comfortable in my job for over a decade,” he said softly, staring down to where your hand lay on your stomach. “I get that I was not ready for a relationship and I didn’t give you what you needed, but it’s hard and that doesn’t excuse you not telling me that I’m going to be a father.”
Your lip quivered as the tears fell, cascading in your mouth. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but when I found out, I was devastated. I’d always imagined having a baby, but I imagined having one when I was happy and in love, not reeling from hurt that my boyfriend couldn’t prioritize me in a relationship. Once I got over the initial shock, my mind immediately went to this baby being my be all and end all. This baby comes before everything else.” Standing up from the couch, you walked over to your bag and grabbed the sonogram picture for him. “If you couldn’t prioritize me, which you admit yourself was a problem, how was I supposed to expect you to do that for a child?”
“But I would’ve,” he said. “I will. I want to do right by you both.”
That was the problem. “That’s just it, Spence. I don’t want you to do right by this baby or me because you feel you need to. I have money. I have a mom and aunts that can help me. I don’t “need” your help. I want it. I want you to want us in your life. I want you to want to make us a priority. We aren’t a responsibility, we’re your family.” In your rambling, you hadn’t realized how worked up you’d gotten. You placed your hands on your hips and took a deep breath, not wanting to get worked up anymore for fear of what it would do to the baby. “You didn’t prioritize me then. How am I to expect that you want to do that for us now?”
He knew you had a point, sitting down on the chair across from you and staring at you for a moment. “Because I’ve changed. You’ve changed me. I know that I didn’t prioritize you like I should have. It’s difficult to learn how after years of being on your own. And I was scared. But I did and do still love you...and I want this baby.” He hadn’t looked up at you, his eyes and forefinger slowly glancing over the picture of the baby inside you. “Please give me the chance to prove that.”
When you’d come to the realization that you weren’t a priority for him, no matter how much he loved you, you’d been broken. “One condition,” you said, patting the seat next to you. He stood up and nodded, taking his place at your side. “Talk to JJ and Will. Ask them how they manage to do what they do. I mean in this case I would be Will, the one that’s home more often, but they seem to be able to do this successfully. Ask them how.” The guilt over not telling him overflowed, causing you to cry into his shoulder. “We both grew up without fathers, Spence. Yours walked out and never returned, and mine came in and out of my life as he pleased, when it was convenient for him. So I felt like an inconvenience. If you, for even one second, make this baby feel like they aren’t a priority, we are gone. I will not have our baby feeling the same way I did.”
Spencer placed his thumb under your chin and brought you up to meet his gaze. “I promise you I want this baby. And I want you. I understand you’re scared, and that we both have a lot of work to do, but let me prove that this is what I want.”
“Okay,” you said, allowing a smile to form on your face. It was a tentative one - and you were petrified of once again not feeling good enough, but you would give yourselves a chance to succeed at this. More than anything, you wanted a happy family. “I have an appointment next week to find out the sex of the baby. Do you wanna come?”
“Yes,” he replied quickly, placing his hand on your stomach. He took you off guard and bent his head down, kissing the top of your stomach and saying hello to the baby. “I’m your daddy. I promise you’ll know every day how loved you are.”
Yu：Why the hell… I don’t know, I was bedridden and bored and still need to add 30s slang to the other fic, but can’t do that until either I find my reference site or this damn Baccano episode loads up, so plz enjoy…
_ _ _
_ _ _
If you thought GuanShan didn’t noticed that he hadn’t woken up feeling this good in a very long while, then you were damn mistaken. Which was the first hint that something was wrong.
It’s kind of sad he doubted himself, his surroundings, his luck whenever he felt good; as if a tidal wave of ‘bad’ was about to crash him against the jagged rocks of reality.
After his eyes readjusted to the light, and the expensive sheets and heavenly pillows, and the sofa across from him, and the high-rise ceiling, he knew exactly what that incoming tsunami was.
“Morning, sleepy-head,” said the tidal wave.
A muffled ‘Nooo,’ was groaned faced down into the pillow.
Maybe if he pressed hard enough to the point of flattening his nose, he could smother himself.
But the onslaught wave had no interest in his deliberations, and strode from the kitchen to hand him a glass of water and pills he assumed were for hangovers.
“So let me try filling you in, in case you aren’t aware,” HeTian spoke, taking a seat on the adjacent couch. “Yes, you did arrive drunk on my doorstep at around midnight,” he folded his legs casually, “Yes, you did a bit of drunk rambling- but nothing embarrassing,” He winked. Prick. “And yes, you also passed out in my bed. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for you being in the smack middle of it, and having a tendency to kick sheets off of you, then hog them back on to your side, right before kicking them off again.” Wait. Had he slept in the same bed with him? He looked at the medium length of the sofa and knew the flat well enough to gather that the bed was the only comfortable place for the night.
“Sorry to inconvenience you,” GuanShan reluctantly mumbled, hating being formal with the bastard, but there was no doubt he was in the wrong.
“On the contrary. I told you that you needn’t try to deal with everything on your own. It’s okay for you to ask for help and that’s exactly what you did.”
“..什么?” GuanShan didn’t understand.
“Only thing to deal with now is how you’d like this done,” HeTian spoke with a definite change in his voice. The words would seem neutral and perhaps business-like, but GuanShan detected a certain chill reminiscent of the time the dark eyed boy promised steel wires and blood-dripped lips.
GuanShan kept silent, not sure when he had sat up with his legs hanging off the side of the bed.
“Your father, GuanShan,” HeTian alluded to his unasked question, “Do you want him dead or alive?”
GuanShan wondered if it’d be overdramatic to say that the world stopped. If anyone thought so, then how many people have offered before to commit murder for them?
GuanShan sputtered, but nothing coherent ever came out. It was as if he was just buying time while he tried figuring out what the hell was going on.
“What all did you hear last night? I was only looking for a place to crash-”
“There was a condition to you staying here. You had to tell me what was wrong or I’d throw you out… He’s back, right?”
GuanShan wasn’t good at hiding tells, but he at least knew what was one. So when his breath hitched at the question, there was no denying HeTian had the confirmation he’d been looking for.
“Shan… He’s back from prison. And as much as people would like to claim they’re ‘correctional facilities'…9 out of 10 they are most certainly not. If he’s beating the crap out of you and your mom, there’s only one solution to that.”
“Killing him!?”
“Showing him what the hierarchy is now that he’s outside a prison. If his dumbass gets killed and winds up in a backalley, that’s his fault. And if done right, no one will waste the manpower investigating it.”
There was hesitation. But he really had to know.
“HeTian… Are you a part of a gang?”
“Ha~…No, GuanShan. I’m not.” And he believed him.
“But," he paused, "to kill someone -”
“Doesn’t take being a Tong or a Triad.”
Silence.
“Besides, I’ve seen his criminal records. Your father’s ties to either organization weren’t even that deep to begin with. He won’t be missed.”
The redhead wasn’t entirely sure how to covertly ask ‘Why the fuck do you know that?’, so he didn’t.
“No,” was the first word that practically forced its way out, “No. No, no, no,” Bringing his hands to his face, GuanShan shook his head, “There’s no reason to kill him. If I could just put him back in prison, that’d be-” “Done.”
His head popped up. Eyes wide in shock…fear…admiration?
“什-”
“He’ll be back in prison by the end of the week. Stay here for now, and try to get your mother to come here as well. Tell her to say she’s heading to the market for groceries-”
“That’s doing too much-”
“Your business is my business.”
The statement was said with so much finality, GuanShan didn’t think he could help the first thing that shot out his mouth:
“Do you like me?”
It sounded like the most random of questions. Maybe even a bit needy too. What is this, primary school??
But in the context, with the housekeeping job, and the kiss, and the clearing of his name, and this, it just seemed-
“No.”
His innerself watched in confusion at his heart plummeting from a drop door in his chest, until it shattered upon the metaphysical floor.
Wow.
He shouldn’t be so blunt.
But then again, shouldn’t he be feeling relieved?
It’s just because the prick was being rude.
But he’s always like that. And honestly, he was just being clear.
Which is all he could’ve asked for.
But they had kissed, so how could HeTian say that??
Was it a game?
Did it matter?
Wouldn’t it be better if it was a joke?
Wouldn’t it be better if-
“I don’t know how I feel about you, actually,” HeTian’s words cutting through GuanShan’s high-speed train of thought that was tumbling off a broken bridge Old Western-style. “I just…saw a tool of amusement at first-” GuanShan almost interrupted, “-and after a little while, I saw only a friend, who was a bit of a pain in the ass, but worth it.”
GuanShan felt a bit better, but it went away as soon as he saw the expression of an internal struggle, and words starting again with treaded caution.
“And I thought that this would continue… Until I saw,” HeTian paused, his eyes looking directly into his own, “a possibility.”
Realization hit him like thunder, but lightning always comes first, and so before he could fully pass the sofa and reach the exit, HeTian’s reflexes had captured his arm. Every muscle rigid in his body, completed with a clenched jaw, and his eyes never deviating from the door leading outside of the Hell he’s found himself in.
“Shan - listen - that time - the kiss - it - it was just a joke, I swear. I’m not trying to push you outside of your comfort zone. I already know you don’t like me, and that’s fine,” he emphasized.
Fuck.
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I care about your well-being, because above all, you’re my friend.”
Friend…
“Do you understand?”
Not at all.
HeTian’s words were crystal clear, but whatever the fuck was going on in his head wasn’t.
“You… I….” were the words that wound up beating the other stream of thoughts that had raced to his lips.
“It’s not…like that. I think that I just need time, is all…”
His eyes caught the sudden expansion of HeTian’s chest, and felt that this might be the closest he’d get to an audible gasp.
It was such a human thing, and he amusedly hadn’t thought HeTian capable until now. But that wasn’t the only surprise. GuanShan thought to himself of how all the times the person before him had smirked mischievously, or forced grins masking threats, but he had forgotten that genuine smiles may look a bit different.
For example, they tend to stretch the mouth at both corners, and raise the cheeks. There are sometimes wrinkling around the eyes. And even the darkest of irises had the potential of lighting up like the Chinese New Year.
HeTian’s chest finally drew inward, and his lungs exhaled, “Take all the time you need, GuanShan.”
There was evident emotion there. Hope.
GuanShan, for once, allowed himself to feel it too. Maybe this time a tidal wave wouldn’t come. Maybe this time, there’d be smooth sails.
_ _ _
Yu: 什么/shénme is just “what” (Probably coulda guessed that one, right?)
Chapter Fourteen of The One Condition Series | Chapter Fifteen
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: You and Leto are alone aboard The Crest, but things aren't as innocent as they initially were.
TW: sexual harassment, blood, Din being violent, and an open wound
Notes: Hi everyone !! I hope you all enjoy this chapter ((: I am going to be taking next week off due to the fact that I will be spending the upcoming holiday with my family and sneaking away to write smut might be frowned upon *sigh* but don't worry I'll be back ! I have no intention of leaving everyone hanging ((: Happy reading <3
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Under any other circumstances the walk would actually be peaceful. The native birds sing a melodic tune, the wind is causing the trees to dance in an unsynchronized manner, and the flowing streams babble in a language that has been lost to everyone but them. Din can name on a single hand the amount of walks he has gone on simply for pleasure. This should be one that he adds to the list. Unfortunately, his mind is as detached as can be from the scenery. Thoughts of you alone with Leto plague him as he continues his trek with the father, Jeb. How he hungrily eyed you from the moment he walked up. The way he smiled at you when he was being introduced. The audacity of him to sit with you in the grass and try to play with the kid. He allows himself to quietly laugh when he remembers how the child growled at him and receded to the sanctity of your lap. He needs to remember to give him an extra helping of dried meat for that. Although that laugh is quickly stifled when he remembers how Leto scrambled up out of the grass to assist you.
Something was off in how he offered to watch over you while he left. He could sense goodness and geniality in Jeb. The way he winked at you was paternal and joking, but Leto had other motives. He could feel it in his bones. A part of him felt guilty for remaining so quiet as the old man spoke of nothing and of everything next to him. With his head swimming in anxiety riddled thoughts, Jeb’s words sounded as if they were underwater. He would half heartedly nod his head or mumble out a ‘hmm’, but nothing of any substance. They had only been walking for twenty minutes, maybe he could still find a way to get back to you. The gnawing he felt in his chest grew almost physically painful with each step he took that carried him farther away. Din clears his throat and prepares to articulate the lie of the millenia.
“I just realized I didn’t check to see if the thruster’s central radial disc got damaged.”
Of fucking course he checked to see if it was damaged. He spent hours up there before salvation arrived. He went over every inch of that thruster. He knew exactly what was damaged and what wasn’t, but Jed didn’t need to know that.
“Those ‘asteroids’ must’ve really rattled ya’ can there, partner.”
Din shrugs as innocently as he can before he continues. “I know for a fact the engine is busted, but if the disc is broken as well the new engine installation won’t make a difference.”
The two have slowed their steady walk to a light stroll. Din watches as Jeb seems to consider what he said.
“Tell ya’ what,” he stops and faces him. “I’ll keep treckin’ on to the warehouse and load up both a pre-empire thruster engine and a central radial disc in a cart. You head back to the ship and check on that part. If it's fine then I’ll just take the disc back, but if it ain’t then our skins will be saved with the backup.”
Din nods in approval of the plan. He apologizes for ‘glossing over’ such a key component, but Jeb just brushes it off and assures him ‘that accidents happen’. After a firm handshake, Din is retracing his steps. He is hurtling towards The Crest, the baby, and you.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
“But you're not too busy to stare longingly at some man whose face you can't even see?”
The cup of caf you pick up scalds your hands. Somehow its burn feels better than what Leto says. You have no idea how to respond to that. You watch him calmly blow on his own drink before taking a sip. His eyes never leave your face. He is practically daring you to expose yourself.
“Inquisitive, aren’t you?”
“I’m just trying to feel the situation out.”
“So that was your attempt at trying to ask if I'm single?” You laugh dryly.
“Well…are you?” His brows raise slightly.
Truthfully, you don’t know. You and Din have never had the talk about exclusivity. Then again the two of you are the only ones who roam around the hull walls, so there really was no reason. He’s the only person you want to wake up next to, the only person who doesn’t see you as damaged goods because of your scar and your bloody history, and the only person you trust. The night that he told you his true name you had also told him your true feelings. Until the universe burns out. You meant every syllable and more of that sentence. You would have him any way he allowed you too. When he said it back to you, especially in Mando’a, you had a feeling he meant more too. It had unwittingly become a declaration of love between the two of you. So you guess, maybe you do know after all.
“I’m not actually.” You straighten your back as you say it. It felt good to hear it out loud.
“Ahh I see,” he sets his caf down on the crate he is leaning against. “The Mandalorian beat me to the punch.”
“To be clear, I never said who I was dating.”
“Oh come on. I’m sure you spend more time alone with him than you do with yourself.”
“It’s not as if we are on a galactic star cruiser,” you wave your free hand around you. “There is only so much room.”
“Fair, but tell me what he has that I don’t.”
“You’re fucking joking right?”
“I, for one, can show my face,” he takes this as an opportune time to wink at you. “Two, I have an actual house and not a ship being held together by hope and some fraying wires. And three, I’m your age.”
He lists these off as if they are going to make you drop your panties right here on the hull floor. As if these are the only three criteria for the most perfect match in all the cosmos. He is making you feel ill and your only solace is that the child is safe and away from him.
“Charming.” You dully say while setting your caf down.
“Aren’t I? So really, what does he have that I don’t?” He takes a step towards you.
Your eyes dart to the still open ramp. You want to make a break for it, but you could never leave the baby alone with this neanderthal.
“Don’t even think about it,” he chides in a sickeningly sweet timber. “My father and your oh so precious Mandalorian are long gone. It’s just us, baby.”
“I’m not your fucking baby.” You hiss, taking a step back.
“But you could be.”
“For The Makers sake, get a grip, Leto!”
“I’m just having a bit of fun with you.” He laughs as he says your name.
“This isn’t fun for me. It’s getting weird. Maybe you should go back with your dad.”
“And leave you here all by yourself?” When he smiles, it isn’t the warm one you received when you first met. There is malice behind it this time.
“Trust me, I have a feeling I’ll be much better off alone.”
That wipes the smile off his face. It’s now replaced with a scowl. Not even the warm air flowing in from outside can deter the chill that settles around the two of you.
“Fine, but not without a kiss for the chivalrous hand I’ve lent you.”
“You’re getting nothing from me.”
“What’s a small kiss for me to the countless hours you spend on your back like a whore-on-call for a bounty hunter?”
He grabs your arms too quickly for you to move out of his reach. His grip feels like it's burning a hole through the sleeves of your shirt. You curse and struggle against him as he laughs callously. Your fight or flight kicks in and you ram your knee into his crotch. He releases you and buckles to the floor with a yelp. The adrenaline flooding your system propels you past the huddled mass on the floor in front of you. You make a beeline for the childs pram. You and the baby need to get out before Leto recovers. The Maker was on your side with that first shot, but you aren’t sure how long your luck will last. As you reach the crib you hear a low laugh behind you.
“Like it rough do you? I can play like that too.”
“So can I.”
You dare to peak over your shoulder, body still shielding the enclosed child, to see the owner of the voice. Din. He is on Leto instantly. He grabs a fist full of the back of Leto’s shirt and pulls him backwards towards the crates.
Din heard the man’s yell from outside the ship. He could feel the blood in his veins turn to ice at the sound. He scaled the ramp and the sight he saw made him go blind with rage. You huddled over the crib and Leto stalking over towards you.
“Like it rough do you? I can play like that too.”
Red is all he sees as he drags him back across the hull floor. He slams Leto against the crates and holds him there. His is flailing under his hand only because the realization that he isn’t getting free on his own accord hasn’t set in yet. Din can see Leto’s mouth moving and spit flying, but the sound is lost to him. His own breathing echoing around inside his helmet is the only thing that reaches his ears. Years of training takes over his body as he unsheaths his vibroblade. He can feel the man still under his grip as the blade hovers over his throat.
“What’s wrong, Leto? Don’t want to play rough anymore?”
Leto opens his mouth to speak, but is met with a fist careening into the underside of his chin. Another pain fueled wail is heard throughout the hull. His tongue must have been smashed in between his teeth because blood starts pouring out of his mouth. Din doesn’t care as he moves the knife back to its original position.
When he tilts the weapon closer to Leto’s trembling neck he catches a glimpse of you in it. The shaking of the blade doesn’t allow a clean image, but he could spot you anywhere. You’re still sprawled out over the crib with your back to him. You could have left. You could have saved yourself from this man, no, animal, but you didn’t. You stayed behind to protect the kid. His kid. Each other's kid.
He has never felt uneasy with a weapon in his hand before in his life. If anything it has made him feel more like himself; an extension really. As per The Mandalorian Creed, weapons are a part of the religion. They are just as important and impactful as the beskar he dawns everyday. But this particular weapon, used in this particular fashion, makes him feel sick. Images of your body writhing in a nightmare induced panic in the dead of night come to him. You’re trapped in a never ending cycle of reliving what your brother did to you and how he did it to you. Even though you aren’t looking he is sure you can hear the haunting hum the vibroblade is emitting. He doesn’t want to be the cause of any more pain you endure in your life. At this very moment he feels no better than Alden himself. This thought alone makes him want to kneel in front of you and beg for forgiveness. If you asked him to cast aside every weapon he owns he would do it in a heartbeat. He doesn’t need them. You have become his new religion. Your body, the altar. In between your thighs, his place of worship.
As much as he would love to wipe Leto from the face of this planet, he knows he can’t do it. One, at least not in this fashion and two, his father knows he is here. He sheaths the blade back in his vambrace and throws Leto to the ground.
“I should kill you for what you did and what you said. It’s taking everything in me not to.”
His words chill you, but not in the way you expect. No, it isn’t that he is threatening to kill someone. It is that he is threatening to kill someone for you. You silently peel yourself off of the floating carrier and face the two men. Leto's body, while sprawled out on the hull floor, is supported by his elbows. He tries to answer, but blood spurts out instead.
“If I ever see you again, in this life or the next, I will make it my personal mission to hunt you down and break you.” You watch as Din places a heavy boot on Leto’s ankle. “Do you think you can get that through your fucking head?”
You hold your breath and let your eyes drift over to the man on the ground. He is shifting his gaze rapidly between Din and his trapped ankle. Then you see him glance in your direction ever so slightly. A devastating crack greets your ears as Leto’s elbows give out under him.
“Don’t you fucking dare look at her,” he forces his foot down more and a succession of popping noises are produced. “Now get the hell off my ship before I change my mind about letting you live.”
“C-can’t walk…my ankle.”
“Then I suggest you figure it out. Quickly.”
Both you and Din watch as Leto struggles to pull himself up using the rope you have tied around the crates. Neither of you say anything as he braces himself against the wall and struggles his way over to the still open ramp. As soon as he is officially off of The Crest, Din scrambles for you. You’re in his arms in a matter of seconds. One of his hands cups the back of your head and the other wraps itself around your lower back. You have yours thrown around his neck and feel tears start to pick your eyes when his body shudders against you.
“I-I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t shake the feeling.”
“I’m safe now,” you say as steadily as you can. “I’m safe, Din.”
“Say it again. Please, say it again.”
You tell him that you’re safe until it feels like the only sentence you have ever known in your life. With each passing minute he has you in his arms, you can feel his breathing start to stabilize. With each utterance of the confirmation of your safety, you can feel his muscles relax. His hands on your body never loosen and neither do yours. You hold each other until the world around you fades away and nothing else exists except this moment in a timeless universe.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
“So where did you say Leto ran off too?”
“He had a really bad headache,” you call up to the two men on the right wing of The Crest. “When Mando came back, he said he was going to go home and sleep it off.”
A small knot forms in your belly as you realize the two men could have seen each other on the path home. Leto got what he deserved, but you didn’t want Jeb to stop helping Din just because he finished what Leto started. You and Din must be thinking the same thing.
“You didn’t run into each other?”
“Oh no. I took the longer route when I was headed back towards ya’. It was easier on the wheels of my cart.”
Relief washes over you as you watch the men work in sync together. By the time Jeb goes home and sees the state his son has been left in, your party of three will be long gone. You also have a feeling that the coward won’t even admit why he looks like that. His ego lies shattered on the floor of The Crest.
You and the baby occupy your time playing in the grass and the river. You want him to have as much time outside as he can. The next stop you will be making is Daiyu and that is certainly no place for a kid to run around carefree. As the day sheds its sunny disposition and the evening clocks in for its shift, fireflies emerge. You bask in the plush greenery and watch the child hobble around trying to catch them. His squeals of laughter float around you and mix with the warm evening breeze. Despite the events that unfolded earlier, you feel safe. You are near the two people that you have grown to care so deeply for in a matter of months. They have proven that they feel the same way about you. The feeling of reciprocated love flows through your body and lights you from within. It’s in this glowy daze that Din finds you.
“Cyar’ika.”
You tilt your head back and look at an upside down man. “Yes?”
“Come say bye. Jeb is going to head back before it's completely black outside.”
You nod your head and turn your body in the grass to face him. He extends his hand to help you up and you take it with a smile. When you stand the two of you just look at one another until Din brings your hand up to the bottom of his helmet. You watch, starstruck, as he lifts it just slightly to reveal what you only know by touch. His lips press slow kisses on each of your knuckles. With each one you feel electricity shoot through your body. That spark in your veins keeps going even after he replaces his helmet.
“What was that for?” You can hear your own smile in your voice.
“I’ve always wanted to do that. Now seems like a good time.”
Din beckons the kid to come over and he responds enthusiastically. He runs, if you could call it that, and hugs his fathers boot. Nothing makes you melt quite like seeing your two boys interact together.
“Come on, Kid. It’s time to go.”
With the child in Din’s left hand and your hand in his right, you all walk back to send Jeb off. You thank him profusely for being so generous and helpful today, but he shakes it off as if it was all in a day's work. He and Din share a handshake and the baby presents him with a squished firefly. Jeb only laughs and places it in his shirt pocket with a light pat.
“Gotta keep my new loot safe.”
You yell ‘goodbye’ and ‘be safe’ until Jeb and his cart full of damaged parts can’t be seen anymore. Din lets you know that he still has to adjust a few more things before departure. He ushers you inside the hull with a pop on your ass. Your exaggerated shocked expression is met with stoicism, but you know he’s smiling under there. You throw him a wink before you disappear inside.
You aren’t sure how long Din has been working up there. You can hear him banging on things while you bathe the kid, cook him dinner, and ultimately put him down for bed. You busy yourself by cleaning up the only evidence of Leto on board, his blood, and rearranging items that became dislodged in the shoot out. You’re in the fresher, washing a rag clean, when you hear him come in and close the ramp.
“Hey can you grab the medpack in there for me?”
Confused and concerned you find the small container and rush out to meet him. He is cradling his left hand in his right as he meets you by his bed. You stand beside him as he sits on the edge of it and slips his left glove off. There is a gash in both his hand and his glove. Din moves his hand forward so the blood oozes onto the floor instead of the sheets.
“Oh shit, Din.” You kneel beside him and throw open the container, although you aren’t entirely sure what you need to be looking for. “What happened?”
“I went to hop off the wing and my hand slid across some metal that was contorted from the blasts. Grab the disinfectant and then that needle and thread.”
You do as he says. You cup his mangled hand in yours and pour the disinfectant solution over it. While he doesn’t say anything, you can tell it hurts him with the way the muscles in his hand contract against yours. You lean forward and kiss his wrist to give him a silence ‘you’re doing great’. Your hands shake slightly as you take the needle and thread it.
“I’m scared.” You admit.
“Why is that?”
“I don’t want to hurt you!” You say this as if it's the most obvious thing in the universe.
With his good hand, Din cups the side of your face. “You could never hurt me, Cyar’ika. Even if you could, I would bask in the knowledge that you’re real enough to inflict pain.”
“What does that mean?”
“Sometimes I…sometimes I get scared I’ll wake up and you won’t be laying next to me. I feel like all of the happiness you bring me can’t be something that exists outside of a dream.”
You take the hand that holds your face and bring it down to your heart. “Do you feel that?”
“Yes.”
“That means I’m very much real, Din. You’re not dreaming.”
Sewing the stitches isn’t as bad as you initially anticipated. It isn’t something you will actively seek out, but it’s not that bad. Especially when you have someone telling you how good of a job you're doing as if you are the one with an open wound. You have about three more stitches to sew when Din speaks again.
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t even move. What are you talking about?” You laugh.
“The knife. I pulled a knife on Leto. I shouldn’t have done that.”
While you hadn’t seen it, you did hear it. Just like when he used it to cut up the child's meat, you found yourself feeling…normal. You hadn’t been taken aback by it or by him. Your heart aches at the thought of him beating himself up over doing something you were almost positive was reflexive.
“It isn’t about the knife itself per say.” One stitch down, two to go. “It is about who wields it and the intention behind it. I’ll never be afraid of you so therefore, I’ll never be afraid of what you have in your hands.”
“I just don’t want you to look at me and see…your brother.”
“You aren’t him, Din.” Two stitches down, one to go. “When I look at you, I see a man not a monster. You are good, kind, and caring.”
“You make me want to be those things.”
“And you make me feel safe and…”, oh Maker are you about to say this. “Loved.”
“Loved.”
“Hmm.” Third stitch down.
You cut the excess thread with scissors you find in the medpack. You squeeze some bacta on your hands and gingerly apply it before wrapping his stitched up hand in white bandages. You pack up the bag and recline on your knees to admire your handiwork. He slowly turns his hand to look at it in its entirety.
“Does it still hurt?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“So you don’t need me to kiss it?”
“Well, if that's what the doctor orders, who am I to tell her no.”
You smirk up at him while you sit up on your knees again. You take his injured hand in yours and kiss where you just stitched. You can hear a deep, modulated sigh sound out above you. Your lips travel all around the palm of his hand and to each one of his fingers. A smile forms on you as his fingers twitch under the soft skin of your lips. When you finish you sit back down and look up at him. A forced concerned expression makes itself present on your face.
“I don’t think that worked,” you sigh. “Maybe you need something a little stronger.”
“Like what?”
“Lay back and you’ll find out.”
Sarcasm laces both of your voices. He laughs as he sits back further on the bed, keeping himself propped up on his forearms. Maker, you love his laugh. That deep, sultry sound can light up even the darkest depths of your mind. You wriggle yourself in between his legs and hold your head in your hands.
“You are so handsome.”
“You can’t even see my face, pretty thing.”
“But I’ve felt it. I’ve felt those full lips, those thick brown, and that nose. Oh Maker, that nose. I’ve even felt that small scar on the bridge of it.”
“Good memory.”
“Only when it comes to things, or people, I care about.”
You hook your fingers under the hem of his pants and them down enough so that you can pull him out. Both of you groan when he is free. You salivate at the sight in front of you. He has worked so hard to fix The Crest and to protect you. Now you are going to make sure he knows how grateful you are.
You grip the bottom of his length in your hand and lower yourself down. Your tongue swirls around his tip and greedily laps up the evidence of his eagerness for you. You sigh audibly as you feel his hand, his good hand, come up and brush your hair out of your face. You let your tongue roam freely up each side of him. Each time you make contact with his skin, you can feel a shiver run through his body. His modulated breaths have started to hitch up above you. When you finally take him completely, you look up at the masked man above you. You want him to see the desire in your eyes as you sink lower. His hips buck up to meet your mouth as you move up and down lazily on his shaft. Your eyes prick with tears, but you continue to hold your gaze. You send delicious vibrations through his body as you moan.
“Take me just like that, pretty thing. Fuck”
You shine under his praise. Your hand works in tandem with your mouth as you pump the parts of him not in your mouth. You take your other hand and free his balls from their fabric prison. Not wanting to neglect them, you take one of them in your mouth. You feel them start to pull up tightly as you continue to work on them.
“Can I-can I cum on your face?”
“Oh fuck yes.” You whine.
You sit back on your heels and open your mouth to him as he pumps himself with his own hand. Your name falls from his lips while he releases all over you. Most of it makes it into your mouth, but you feel some of the spray land haphazardly. You hum at the feeling of it handing hot on your face and swallow everything he graciously gives you. Only when you know he is done do you open your eyes and look up at him. You take your finger and swipe some off the excess of your cheek and push it into your mouth. He groans as he watches you hungrily suck on your finger in front of him.
“You’re so perfect for me.” He is winded as he speaks.
You lean forward again and kiss the tip of him. He hisses at your light touch. You gently tuck him back away and smile drunkenly up at him.
“Feel better?”
He pulls you up off the floor and into his lap. “Being with what is mine always makes me feel better.”
