Reader meets Paddy at the VA and she becomes a staple in the house.
Warnings: Nothing really just some light makin out. Let me know if y’all think there should be a part 2 bc I could def write one
No one is supposed to fall in love with the guy like Tommy Conlon. He’s the type of guy that you fuck, and then you leave, or he leaves you, whichever comes first. No one thought Tommy would be the guy I would end up with. Little virgin me when I met him, a fucking virgin at 24 if you can believe that. I met Tommy through Paddy, who I was helping out. Paddy needed a friend and I had free evenings. I really like Paddy, he’s a sweet guy, trying to make up for the mistakes in his past. He had just started training Tommy when I showed up. I showed up one day to bring Paddy some dinner, and was greeted by the angriest man I’d ever seen. This, of course, was Tommy, and he greeted me in, what I came to find out, was the most Tommy way possible.
“Whatever the fuck you’re selling we’re not interested.”
“Uh, I’m not selling anything, is, uh, Paddy here?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Um, my name’s Y/N, I came to bring Paddy dinner.”
Paddy appeared then, looking apologetic,
“Took my problems to the VA, Tommy, just like you said.”
Tommy looks me up and down, and then stalks off into the house. As I became more and more of a staple in the house and Paddy’s life, Tommy and I ended up interacting more. He and I got along decently well, and when he made it into the tournament in Miami, Paddy asked me to be his “manager.” Apparently, Paddy was the trainer, and I was the manager. I don’t know how common it is to be half in love with your client, but we made it work. I would do the talking, and Paddy would answer questions about training, regime, diet, weight class, and the rest. Tommy wouldn’t say anything, just look angry and surly, which I said was perfect for him. He scowled to hide his smile.
It was at the press open house where Tommy first saw Brendan. He was sitting next to me, looking sulky, while Paddy talked to a couple of reporters. I felt Tommy tense, coiled like a spring, and when I look up I can see Brendan. I only knew him from photos in Paddy’s house, neither of them ever talked about him. It’s disconcerting how normal he looks. He really does just look like a dad, a high school teacher. He’s looking at Tommy, and Tommy immediately gets up. I touch his shoulder, but he’s already leaving. I tell Paddy we’ll be back, and rush out after him.
“Tommy-“
“Let go.”
“Listen, you can’t just walk out like-“
“I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
“Tommy, you have to do this thing right. The money is one thing, but when you win this, you’ll be a big name, and at least sitting and sulking in front of the cameras is necessary. Me and Paddy will do all the talking, you don’t have to say anything. Just come back inside.”
I hate pleading with him, it makes me feel weak, but it’s not like I can do anything else. It would just make him angrier and the cameras would eat it up. Tommy stares at me, hard, like he’s trying to catch me lying, and then says,
“I’m not talking to him.”
“You don’t have to. You don’t have to talk to anyone.”
He stares at me for another minute, and then goes back inside. Brendan is still looking, and I touch Tommy’s bicep to let him know I’m not going anywhere.
I pretty much end up sleeping at Tommy and Paddy’s shared hotel room. Tommy is still tense, and snaps at everybody. I had to talk Paddy of a ledge for 45 minutes after Tommy said something to him at the casino, and Paddy ended up crying and I tucked him into bed myself, pouring all the mini liquor bottles down the drain for good measure. Tommy walks in at 3am, and he throws me an angry look before walking to his room. I follow without hesitation. He just acts like I’m not there, and begins stripping to get into the shower. Fuck.
“Tommy,” I say, as he strips off his shirt and pants, standing only in his boxers before me, “I don’t know what you said to Paddy and I don’t need to know, but whatever you said really hurt him. I know you won’t apologize and I get that it was partially because of the fight, but he has to be present at these fights to train you, you know that right?”
“I don’t fuckin care what he thinks,” Tommy spits, his gaze burning through me.
“Jesus, Tommy, just treat him with some respect,” I snap.
“He doesn’t deserve it. He’s told you his little sob story, but you don’t know the half of it. Yeah, I’ll stay focused, don’t you worry about me.”
He stalks off, and I know there’s nothing I can do. So, I just pass out on the couch, and try to pretend I imagined somebody pushing the hair out of my face an hour later.
Each fight was the same, Tommy left the room, came back five minutes later and immediately wrapped himself in my arms. I held him, touched his hair, his shoulders, whispered about anything other than the fights. He comes back shaking with anger after the fight against Mad-Dog, and presses his forehead into my shoulder. I don’t pretend to know where this intimacy his coming from, but I just accept it. We both ignore it in the hotel room, I sit want watch TV with Paddy while Tommy skulks in his room.
The news comes during the night. Someone had tape of Tommy saving those soldiers, and the next thing I knew MPs were knocking on the door, not looking for Tommy Riordan, but for Tommy Conlon. Paddy and I spend the whole day convincing them not to take Tommy until after the final. Tommy’s no help, of course, he just keeps staring at the screen, where Manny’s wife’s interview is played over and over. He doesn’t look away even when I turn it off.
Eventually the MPs agree they’ll take him after the fight. The press and the crowd are eating up this turn of events, but Tommy and I don’t talk about it. We don’t really say anything. The MPs stand watch in the room, Paddy has disappeared, and I’m just sitting, watching Tommy, waiting.
They come and get Tommy for the final. He looks at me, wanting something I couldn’t see.
“You’ll be fine,” I say, smoothing the hoodie he’s wearing. He doesn’t say anything.
That’s the fight I watch, and Tommy is so broken by the end of it I can hardly breathe. When he and Brendan walk out, supporting each other, I sprint so I can meet them in the hall. They make it all the way to the parking lot before I get to them, and I go up to Tommy, touching him, and he collapses on me, crying in earnest, telling me he’s sorry.
“Tommy, there’s nothing to be sorry for, nothing.”
“I lost-“
“It’s okay, Tommy, you’re fine, that’s all that matters.”
Brendan looks at me, and helps me take Tommy to the medical area. They clear them both, taping Tommy’s cracked rib and giving him something for pain, which I slip in my pocket. I take him to the room they had laid out for the finalists. The MPs are still there, but I refuse to let them take him in state. I end up saying that they can arrest me if he’s gone by morning, and I half drag him to the hotel. Brendan trails behind, looking after us. I clean Tommy’s wounds with a damp cloth at the hotel room, kneeling in between his legs on the bed. He looks down at me and says,
“I just couldn’t. I couldn’t. His fucking kids needed it and I couldn’t.”
“It’s okay Tommy. There’ll be other fights. You’ve done so much for Manny’s family, she’ll understand.”
“I hate that he’s still my brother. He abandoned me and my mom and I still couldn’t do it.”
“You still love him, and that’s okay.”
Tommy leans his forehead against my shoulder again, and I let him rest there, cleaning the bruised and bloodied knuckles on his hand. His other hand, already bandaged, reaches and buries itself in my hair. I tell myself I won’t let him kiss me, not that he would want to, because it’s just after the fight and I’d be looking to get my heart broken, but when he does press his mouth to mine, and don’t say anything, just let him explore my mouth as he pulls me onto his lap. After a while, he starts plucking at my shirt, but I pull back,
“Not tonight, Tommy. Not with the rib and the pain meds.”
A ghost of a smile flits across Tommy’s face.
“They taped it, unless you plan on getting rough.”
“If this offer still stands when we get back to Pittsburgh, I just might.”
Reader is a member for the Jackson community and she and Joel basically have to sneak around Ellie because Joel is a protective dad and doesn’t want to hurt her.
Warnings: it’s like PG-13ish lmao idk
You and Joel pretend that nothing is different. There are only a few people that know. Maria, Tommy, and one or two other people have their suspicions, but no one dares say anything. Ellie can’t know, Joel tells you over and over, she can’t know. But what is there really to know, longing glances, touching hands for a little too long, water tossed back and forth on a run. Then there’s that one time, that night, where lips crashed together and breath hitched with need and want, moans against skin and greedy hands searching under layers of worn clothes. Well, there’s that.
Neither of you had meant for it to happen. He came to see you after a run that was way too long, making sure that you were alright. There had been one too many close calls, you had said, unconsciously moving toward him. He was so handsome, you weren’t sure anyone had told him that and you weren’t sure you had the right to. Surely you were far too young for him, he essentially had a fifteen year old daughter. But then your mouths were pressed together and you both acted instinctively, jerking forward and pressing into each other with an embarrassing level of need. He had pulled away when he heard Ellie calling, and you hadn’t spoken of it since. But the touches had gotten longer and lower, if you were being honest, but neither of you had had the guts to say anything about it.
Ellie comes to you for every problem she has. If she fights with Joel, if Joel isn’t letting her do something, if someone isn’t up to her standards, anything. Maria says Ellie sees you as an older sister, that doesn’t help Joel’s nerves.
One day, you’re standing at the gate, on guard duty when Ellie comes up beside you and plops down, sighing heavily as she leans against the rusted metal.
“What’s wrong?”
“Joel likes somebody and won’t tell me who.”
Your stomach drops to your shoes as she speaks.
“Oh, how do you know that?”
“He was talking about someone and he wouldn’t say their name and when I asked him why he was talking about them like he liked them he kinda froze and started talking around it and I asked him if he liked this person and he kept trying to change the subject and when I asked who it was he wouldn’t answer. Like, wouldn’t at all. And I kept asking but he told me I was making shit up which is so dumb, I’m not and I just really want to know who-“
“Y/N, I have to-“
Oh great, it’s Joel, looking flustered and disheveled and like he’s in exactly in the wrong place. He sees Ellie and immediately draws up short. She looks from you to Joel and back, comprehension dawning on her face.
“Oh my god, no way, no way, it’s Y/N! Holy shit Joel! I-“
“Ellie-“
“No fucking way!”
Ellie dissolves into laughter as you and Joel stare at each other.
“I was worried it was someone I hated! This is the best fucking news holy shit holy shit holy shit-“
“Ellie, I-“
“Of man, I thought I’ve been going crazy. This is the best news! I’ll leave you alone, then. Holy shit!”
She beams as she climbs down from the fence, staring at both of you. Joel waits until she’s sufficiently out of earshot before standing next to you, looking at the ground.
“I thought I’d beat her here, but I shoulda known she’d come here first. You’re a popular girl.”
You push his shoulder playfully, he smiles and reaches out to touch your face. You lean into him.
“I can’t do this now, I’m not gonna get blamed if bandits come break in because I was all over you.”
“Who said anything about being all over each other?”
“I did, I would jump you right here if I could get away with it.”
“Would you now? That’s a Texas girl if ever I’ve heard one.”
You pull him close by his collar, breathing in the smell of pine and sweat and leather, he leans down to you, his lips grazing your ear, your breath hitches as he holds your face, pressing his lips to yours. You wrap around him almost unconsciously he groans as your hands slide down his chest, pulling at his belt. You can feel him harden under your hands and you desperately want to suck him off right there in front of everyone, bandits be damned. He takes your hands away and whispers guard duty into your mouth, you moan again as he kisses your neck before stealing away, his touch promising more, more, more.
Ellie approving of you as Joel’s partner and letting him be alone for more than ten seconds were completely opposite, you came to find out. He wouldn’t put anything before her, not that you would ask him to, but the weeks following became...frustrating. Even when you and Joel weren’t with Ellie, he was always wary that someone might interrupt you, so what you both wanted was nothing but a distant thought, hidden behind an omnipresent veil.
After a couple more weeks of this disappointing back and forth, you had had enough, and found yourself plotting ways to get Joel really alone. Maria had already agreed to distract Ellie with a prolonged horseback ride, and you had forced Tommy to take the batteries out of Joel’s walkie. All that was left...well, you didn’t think that aspect would be too difficult. So there you were, standing in front of Joel’s door and steeling yourself to knock and take this step.
You knocked, and the man of the hour opened the door. He half-smiled at you, but you meant business no time for pleasantries. You pushed him inside, slammed the door, and essentially threw yourself onto him. IT was the end of the world, after all.
Reader is reassigned to the Senate after the destruction of Scarif, where she gives birth to Cassian’s children. She returns every year for the anniversary ceremony of his death, even six years later.
Word Count: 950
Warnings: Fluff, some angst I guess?
I hate that they make me go to these things. Every year it’s always the same, the somber tone with their holos brandished like a giant fuck you to me. His always hurts, it doesn’t matter that it’s been eight years. Each time I see it I feel like I’m being stabbed in the gut. Ranian and Giron are excited to see my crew, laughing as they are picked up and swung around. I hate that I took them and myself away, but I couldn’t live where we did, Scarif took him and I saw him everywhere. It wasn’t healthy. Mothma was good about it, me quitting being a pilot, especially when I tried to kill her after Scarif. She moved me, made me an ambassador so I could work “on the inside” and have my children away from battle. But every year they would make me come back and look at those stupid holos and be reminded that my children would never know their father.
There was a buzz of excitement on the base. Part of it was me, dressed in Senate garb and wearing shoes I absolutely despised but there was no time to change, the less time I spent on this base the better. The boys ran circles around me, and when they tried to usher me to the front I refused, standing toward the back under the overhand of stone with my crew. They never mentioned it or talked about it, but we all knew I could use the support. It was hard to see him, especially on the anniversary. Once they asked me if I ever got the same feeling with my sons, who were replicas of him, but no. They were my children, a testament of his power and his looks, I was proud to look at them. But that empty holo, no, that was too much every time.
Someone came back to try and usher me to the front again, again I refused.
“Pushy this year, aren’t they,” I said to Eilnorat. She smiled and said,
“Maybe they want the boys up there.”
“Could be, adds to the story I guess.”
The ceremony began. I only half listen, it’s not like I haven’t heard any of it before. The boys are rowdy, I try to keep them quiet, but death glares and threat of no dessert are only getting me so far. I knew I shouldn’t have let them nap on the transport but I guess we learn from these things. I’m about two seconds from dragging them out of the ceremony by their ears when Boon hits me on the arm and points to Mon Mothma. I look up to hear her say,
“We have searched for hope in every corner of the galaxy, and often it comes in the darkest places. Through the efforts of our many reconnaissance and recovery teams, we have been able to rescue and retrieve data, records, and people that we thought were lost during the darkest times of the Rebellion. That is why you are all here today, not to mourn, but to celebrate. We have found some of the greatest heroes of the rebellion, and we bring them here to you today, to celebrate with us and to remind us all why we fight. So, without further ado, we give you Jyn Erso, Bodhi Rook, Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus, K2SO, and Captain Cassian Andor, the heroes of the rebellion.”
I stand in the middle of the aisle, a child in each arm, stunned and crying as they all walk on the stage, people are screaming with joy, my crew looks at me, waiting for a reaction. I can only stare at him. He doesn’t see me. He’s holding Jyn’s hand and waving at the crowd, a slight smile furrowed into his face. I gently set the boys down, take off those stupid shoes I hate so much, and run. I feel like I’ve never run faster in my life, people are yelling as I pass them, and then he sees me and he literally leaps off the stage and meets me at the stairs, we crash together like water and land, melting into each other. I’m shaking and crying and I know he is too. He smells just like I remember, like old books and leather and engine grease. How does the man smell like engine grease after eight years? I pull back to look at him, and even though he’s thinner, even though he’s got circles and wrinkles and scars that I don’t remember, he’s there, he’s solidly, really there in front of me. He leans in and kisses me, running his hands through my hair. Just as I pull back, I’m hit with two small bodies from behind. They’re talking a mile a minute, both of them, completely ignoring Cassian, who is staring at them like he’s seeing the sky for the first time. I would tell him, but it seems like he already knows. They’re his, his last gift to me before he left for Scarif. Of course, they don’t need to know they were conceived on a dresser desk where I left scratch marks down their father’s back and he left me a mark on my neck that didn’t heal for weeks.
They look at him and wave shyly, and he waves back, smiling.
“Cassian, this is Ranian and Giron. Ranian, Giron, this is your father.”
