Behind Closed Doors:

charm

Behind Closed Doors

Bojan Cvjetićanin x fem!reader

masterlist

Chapter One:

A/N: Apologies if I got some of the timeline wrong I'm trying lol. I used Käärijä and his real name Jere interchangeably so if you get confused that's why. Also when they're talking they're obviously talking Finnish irl but I only know some sentences so just pretend 🥴 (Definitions of Finnish words I may use are at the end of the chapter) I still don't know whether to turn this fanfic into a Bojan x reader x Käärijä...help me pls, comment below (I am deranged for them both I'm not sorry)

Being one of Käärijä's dancers for Eurovision 2023 was the best job you could ask for. You and Käärijä, or should I say, Jere, grew up together and have been through thick and thin. Nonetheless, you are still just as close as you were when you were younger.

To say you and Jere were friends would be an understatement. Best friends, sometimes slightly more if you had too much alcohol...It seemed either way Jere would always be the protective one, constantly looking out for you and prioritising your needs (and everyone else's) rather than his own. You would tell him that he had a habit of doing that, yet he would simply shrug it off.

You had the chance to meet a couple of the other contestants before arriving in Liverpool at a pre-party, specifically two nights ago at the Nordic Party, but unfortunately, or fortunately, you cannot remember a single thing from it. Thank you Finnish drinking culture! (Seriously, drink responsibly.)

Currently, the turquoise carpet was happening and Käärijä had finished his short interview which was the cue for you and the other three dancers to join him on the small make-shift stage to pose for the camera.

As soon as he saw you his eyes lit up, finding someone he was familiar with amongst the chaos of not only the carpet event but later on in the entire competition was comforting, and with having to mostly talk English (which he wasn't hugely knowledgeable on) in interviews and with the competitors, only made it more difficult. Despite this he had you and that's the only thing that mattered, and doing well in his performances, of course. You knowing slightly more English helped too...

Embracing you in a side hug was his way of showing he cared for you, for now, words are for later. While you hugged you turned to each other and smiled, both still not believing that you were in this together, at Eurovision!  At this, the camera took its last snap of you two like that. You could certainly foresee it being featured in a video titled "Fave moments of Käärijä and Y/n" or something along those lines.

Once you all began making your way to the carpet your nerves kicked in, something which Jere picked up on and whispered you some words of comfort making you struggle to shake the fuzzy feeling he gave you. Now is not the time to fixate on whether you have feelings for your best friend...

You all moved along the carpet, which consisted of talking to fans and more posing for different cameras.  While Käärijä was distracted with a fan you and the dancers decided to have a mini 'Cha Cha Cha dance moment' in the middle of the carpet for the cameraman to film. He was shifting his attention to you when he heard loud cheering. seeing you leading the dancers at the front, Cha cha cha-ing away, as he does. A laugh escaped you as you noticed him giggling at you out the corner of your eye so you dragged him by the arm to join in before embarrassment kicked in.

"You're already trying to replace me?!" Jere joked as he brought his hands on his hips.

"Maybe. I think I'll make a great Käärijä."

"I think you'll be more of a Juoppo, or better, Kalsarikänni" He teased back resulting in you playfully punching his chest, huffing, crossing your arms and facing away from him. From the corner of your eye, you thought you noticed him gazing at you for a little longer than normal but you brushed it off...

Of course, the cameras couldn't get enough of this. Another moment to add to that video!

****

After the carpet event, a few contestants were at a small bar table nearby, wanting to meet some other contestants.

You all had been there for around twenty minutes and the dancers had already left to get another drink leaving you and Käärijä to enjoy the last of your drinks together before planning on joining conversations with fellow opponents around you when a band had come over to the bar t order drinks.

"I think that's the guy I saw at the party!" Jere turned to you with a glimmer in his eye before waving and catching the man in question's attention. You followed his gaze and your heart skipped a beat. He had a black sequined flowing shirt on that made him sparkle in the light and complimented his dark blond locks, and you had to admit, he was nice to look at. Most importantly he was very familiar. Had you seen him at the party? You couldn't quite remember...

You hadn't had time to think about anything else as you noticed the man striding over, forcing you to take a sharp breath in, primarily because you were worried you were going to make a fool of yourself which left you to also mentally curse Jere for putting you in these ridiculous neon pink outfits and blinding white fake teeth and orange tan that gave uncanny valley to anyone who looked at you for longer than five seconds.

"Hey, I'm Bojan, singer of the Slovenian act, 'Joker Out'...We saw each other at the party!" He smiled at you both as you started to just about recognise him from the first time you and Jere met him at the party.

"Yes yes, Joker-man!" Jere joked in remembrance, making Bojan laugh and at that moment you thought you were dreaming. Hearing his voice again without the loud party music was nice but hearing his laugh? That was heavenly.

Jere finally (officially) introduced you to him. "This is Y/n, remember?" The man shook your hand. Your nerves were slightly eased when none of your fake tan left any marking on him, although they came right back as he spoke. Now you knew he was not only hot but had a pleasant voice too. All you had left was to hear his singing voice...

"Yes! I remember!" Bojan eagerly replied. You noticed a tinge of redness appear on his cheeks and hoped he was just feeling hot, as he physically does anyway, and not because of a recollection of something embarrassing at the party (that you still could not remember any major details of...) Deep down you knew the latter was probably true yet tried to keep yourself calm and collected.

"Good to see you again," You lied, wishing you were saying the right thing. What if you had done something stupid and now you're saying it's good to see him again? What if this isn't good?! Is it good? It must be. He is being nice to you after all...

Your thoughts were interrupted as the rest of Joker Out came over and once again said how great the party was...Even they had memories of it and they weren't even invited!

Leaving you and Bojan alone, Käärijä and the other boys began steering away, closer to a table by some other contestants the boys wanted to introduce Käärijä to.

"Hey, remember that drinking game we played at the party? That was fun..." Bojan trailed off, speaking of a moment that must have happened at the party.

"Oh...yeah! That was so fun!" You lied again, having no idea what he was talking about. Oh god, what if you had kissed him and not remembered...

Almost like an angel, Jere began walking back over with two drinks in hand, clearly seeing what you needed. Or he was sabotaging you because at this point you were ready to leave your Finnish roots behind and vow never to drink again, seeing the circumstances.

Before leaving to join the others Bojan leaned over and whispered into your ear.  "You don't remember anything at all, do you?" At that, he simply walked away, leaving you standing there even more confused...and concerned.

"Smooth." Jere had obviously heard the last of your conversation with Bojan and sent a smug smile your way.

You weren't sure but had Jere sensed the tension or were you going crazy?  Guilt was filling you up now. How could you not remember the Nordic party? You Nordics are known for liking a drink but not remembering anything, at all, is a new low even for you. Even in Käärijä's view. That hasn't happened since you were a teenager, he would know.

You felt like Jere was not telling you something or maybe he thought you had remembered what happened already... Again, you had no time to think, which was a typical thing lately much to your hatred, because a young woman around your age approached you. "Hi, I'm Alessandra! You're Y/n, right? I saw you at the Nordic party!" She smiled. Ah, yes, the party you barely could remember. As if you needed any more reminding.

"Hi! Good to see you again." You could lie for the whole world at this rate.

Alessandra introduced you and brought you over to the table where Joker Out and Käärijä were as well as the last few people who were at the bar; Luke Black who was representing Serbia and Alika who was representing Estonia. You got along well with them and you all decided to plan a get-together where tomorrow you'd all hang out at a café nearby and everyone was so excited about it! You were too, but, after that interesting interaction with Bojan, you were nervous to say the least.

As time passed the bar became quieter and quieter as they began leaving to go site-seeing, and back at the hotel, the day turned into night.

Even though you were sad to do so, even with Jere protesting otherwise, you both knew you leaving him to have an early night was for the best. To him, he assumed you were tired but you knew the only way you could escape from all the confusing and slightly flirty looks from Jere and Bojan was the comfort of your hotel room which was overwhelming at this point.

Taking a nice hot bath would surely do the trick of ridding your mind of not only them but also the stress of the competition...Until you had a vision, of yourself in a sauna. Kaarija's sauna. A pleasant steaming sauna with two other figures sat close to you. Bojan and Jere. Then it vanished away like a dream.

What was that supposed to mean?

****

While you clambered into bed for the night in your hotel room you tried to rest but something was keeping you awake, or someone, orrather two people. That bath did nothing but further confuse you!

Maybe watching Joker Out's interview from the carpet event would (worsen) help you... At that, you flipped over to your right side where your bedside table was and grabbed your phone, opened Youtube and the first thing to come up was the video in question. Seems like even your phone knows something's up.

The first was the official interview by the two hosts of the Turquoise Carpet. It opened with the usual questions like "How are you finding it all?" and "Do you like Liverpool?"    Although, as the interview progressed it built up to "Have you been anywhere you like?"

The band responded with site-seeing places like The Cavern Club where The Beatles performed but to you, the most important place was the Nordic Party..."Okay, that wasn't too bad," you thought to yourself.

The next video was by one of the reporters who was one of many along the Turquoise carpet and you thought it couldn't get any worse...but it did. The question that stuck out the most to you was "Which contestant would you rather get stuck in a sauna with?" which caused the band to erupt in laughter.

Luckily, while the video was being recorded earlier that day, you and Käärijä and the other dancers were further along or had left the carpet by then, otherwise, the answer they gave would have probably provoked anyone within reach to ask you about: "I think I've already done that already..."  Bojan hesitated yet finished the sentence; "...with two people here already..."

He then had the cheek to mutter under his breath: "Someone close to Käärijä." Bojansmirked and the rest of the band giggled. If you weren't slick you wouldn't have caught it but it looked like Jan said something under his breath to Bojan...something that looked to be your name.

So, in conclusion, that 'vision' you had in the bath was in fact, a memory.

Well, fuck.

****

A/N:

Juoppo = drunkard.

Kalsarikänni = getting drunk in your underwear at home. (I still find it so funny they have a  word for this...I love Finnish😭)

ALSO THE DRAMA, GUYS, THE DRAMAAAA!!!

Please reblog if you enjoyed! Thanks!

Has this been done yet ? But i want mando to rescue his fav prostitute (maybe smut👀) I know he would care about her and form a real connection. Happy birthday btw 🎉

One Last Time

A/n: Not by me, that's for sure and thank you!!! He really would, he's such a sweetie in this one, he just doesn't know how to communicate well

Warning: Smut, human trafficking (extremely hinted at), dark themes, I notice a lot of the fics with prostitute reader Mando's mean so in this one he's a sweetie, Mando being delusionally in love, Dark Fic!!!

“I’m taking you.”

You don’t look surprised; you show a hint of sadness before you compose yourself again.

You grab his hand, pressing it to your neck as if you wanted to tempt him to caress your warm skin.

Your forefinger presses against his. He feels the small disk underneath your skin. Then you angle his hand up, the tips of his fingers touching your earlobe.

They apparently have you recorded and tracked. Like an animal.

“I belong here.”

He shifts closer, the cheap material of the couch crinkling from the movement.

“What if you belonged to me?”

Instead of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.”, you say, like you were trained to do.

He was quiet for a moment. You sat still. He liked looking at you, especially when you weren’t doing an act. Even if you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was frowning.

Your smile was too teasing, too curved. Fake.

“What if I purchase you?”

That caught you off guard. You blink before you respond in humor.

“Your silly, why would they put a price on a person? Even if I did have one, you wouldn’t be able to afford me, even with your beskar.”

He nods as if you were discussing war plans. Crossing out his options and making new ones. His thumb absentmindedly smoothing over your cheeks.

“What if I steal you away?”

Your eyes widen and you swallow thickly. He can see you think, your eyes flickering to him and the door repeatedly.

Then, as you take a breath in and look at him straight on, you present a challenge with a smirk, your eyes brightening with hope.

“That’s if you can steal me away. I doubt it. There are guards at every door, cameras at every angle the second you step out the building.”

You press a kiss to his gloved palm and sit up quickly, his hand running down your arm and to your hand. //

“Y’know, I know most of the guards actually.”

He tilts his head. He can feel heat build in his stomach at your words. He knows who they are, they don’t particularly look nice.

“They talk to the workers when we wake up for breakfast, they slack off…”

You look to him pointedly.

“I don’t even think they pay attention to their own job at that point.”, you sigh.

You hope the droids looking over the footage and sound didn’t pick up the conversation.

For a moment you think of what would happen if they caught you now. A shiver runs down your spine. They would probably ban him from the city at that point, they had the power to do that.

The fear of never seeing him again was far greater than the punishment they would deal you, you realize.

His hand squeezes lightly, stopping your fingers from trembling and directing your focus to him again.

“Do they-?”

“No. They know I’m off limits.”

He nods, staring at the way you try to smile, your eyes reddening and your lashes starting to stick together from the moisture of your welling tears.

“Good.”

You chuckle when he stands, moving to your door.

“I’ll be back soon.”

For a moment your smile falters.

The soon coming after his usual sentence was new. He was always truthful, like that one time he mentioned how he didn’t really care for the uncomfortable lingerie you were forced to wear or how he only chose you because of the way you stood as the head of the brothel showed him around the rooms.

Soon was never going to be the truth for him. He had bounties to hunt, things to take care of and he would come by every two weeks.

His initial request of having himself be your sole “client” cost him some heavy credits. You fucked him the whole night when he came back, just having found out all of your other appointments were cancelled for good, or at least as long as he comes back to pay the next time he returned back for services.

He knew he would be gone, he never lied to you. So the soon was peculiar. You smile genuinely when he reaches for you one last time, urging you to stand and dismiss him.

His helmet makes you shiver, he started bumping heads with you whenever he left two months ago. He said it was like a goodbye kiss, and for once, in a long time, you were the one slightly swooning.

You willed the joyful tears in until you shut the door, collapsing into yourself in a heap on the floor.

They don’t care if you cried after your customers left, they just didn’t want the loose threads to show when the services were being given.

——————————

He lied to you.

The two weeks were up, you cringed when they handed you a tablet, names upon names of clients scheduled for the next week.

You trusted, you gave your companionship to a man whose face you've never seen. You've fantasized of a salvation, of freedom.

An inkling of trust was built when he reassured you that nothing had to happen, that he just wanted to get rid of the pin he was given in exchange for a bounty.

The 'boss' didn't care that much, especially since he kept coming back, even if his free services were up. He wanted to take up your time, give you rest from the others that would come your way.

He thought himself oh so noble, helping someone out, bringing a peace of mind.

It suddenly became something much more, one night he was pent up, tense, and heaving with energy. He had lost a bounty, some credits, but he was always on schedule for you.

You did like you were supposed to. You moved to relieve, expecting him to push you away. Preparing for him to slap your hand away softly like all of the other times, making you chuckle from the shake of his head.

You were surprised when he didn't move to remove your hand gliding up his thigh.

He didn't stop you when you reached into his pants, pressing your robe down so that you could straddle his thighs and so he could cup your breasts.

He was hooked the second you licked your hand covered in his spill. His chest heaved, his hands gripping your hips, your robe now discarded on the floor.

The thought of someone else seeing you like this made him pause. He decided then that this sight was only for him.

You guess he was like the rest. Demented in his mind games, manipulating you to think he had ever cared for you as a person.

You should have known you became an object the moment he started fucking you.

It was only a matter of time before got tired.

——————————

You lay in bed, eyes wide open, watching as the drapes to your room flowed and flapped from the wind.

You dread going to sleep only to wake up with a man that wasn't Mando coming into your bedroom. It was unfair you thought.

Why did he get your hopes up?

As you start to let your eyes droop closed you hear a tapping on your window. You choose to ignore it. But the next time was louder.

You were upset, throwing on a robe and grumbling towards the window to see what the commotion was. You hoped it wasn't those men again, throwing pebbles at windows in order to get the attention of the workers.

Your breath rushed out of your lungs. His shadow looms over the floor, the city lights blooming behind him. His hand was flat against the glass, his fingers tapping repeatedly now that you were up.

His chest fills with pride at the fact that you rush to open the frame. His hulking form squeezing through precariously. You push him inside, closing the curtains quickly.

He chuckles when you look him over, running your hands over his arms and chest, looking for signs of altercations.

"They didn't see you?", you ask, panicked.

He pats his waist, his blaster sitting nicely in his holster on his thigh.

Typically, all weapons were taken at the door, you've only seen him as bare as he could be, armor and his flight suit only. It was jarring to see how many weapons he carries on his person; you wonder how much it weighs, he was practically covered in ammunition and guns and knives.

"I took care of them."

He was dangerous you realized, a splatter of red almost glowing on his helmet. He grabs your hands, and you continue to stare, your body tense in contempt.

His helmet makes you shiver, he slouches so that your foreheads touch. He sighs.

"We need to leave."

You step back.

"We need to get the others..."

He stands straighter, he sighs again. His hands now at his sides.

"We don't have time."

"Please. I've known them for the longest, they deserve freedom too."

He nods. For a brief moment standing still with his hands on his hips. You purse your lips, moving to sit on your bed as he contemplates, most likely coming up with a plan.

"What took so long?", you ask, hating the silence.

The glint coming from his pocket makes you pause. The device in his hands was box like, probes by the sides.

He kneels before you, pressing it against your hands and when you stare down at him in question he points to your neck.

"It deactivates it, I had to search for one that pairs with yours."

From his pocket he takes out a syringe, you tense. You hated medical equipment, you hated needles. Anything to do with doctors. It was never a good sign when you had to go to the doctors.

"It hurts. Badly. It's better if you're numbed for it."

You shake your head.

"I can handle it."

His helmet tilts.

"No, you can't.", he says plainly.

His hand grips onto your shoulder, you try to push him away. The needle was getting closer to your neck, you keep on shuffling back until your body hits the headboard.

"It's for your own good."

You shake your head, his grip on your legs was solid, unmoving. He crawls over you and you close your eyes tightly, knowing you couldn't fight back even if you wanted to.

You feel a prick slightly above the bump on your neck.

For a moment you thought it was over with, and then he pressed down, the liquid now moving through the needle and making you yell out.

He shushes you. It felt like he was shoving half molten metal down your veins. You start to get drowsy, from your head to your toes and all around your body, you felt heavy.

A minute after you lay limp in your bed, he pulled the sheets over you, you could barely move your eyes, your fingers twitching to reach his hand.

He leaves you there and for a moment you think he was going to leave you in the brothel entirely, paralyzed with whatever he injected you with, feeling numb even to the sheets beneath you.

But as he raised the device up to your neck your eyes widened ever so slightly.

He was right. It would have hurt. You could feel the tingle of it, a slight prick as it turned on. You let out a breath of relief when it stopped, but then he lowered the probes to your arm, directly on top of your birth control device.

You watched as it vibrated under your skin, the same prickles you felt from your neck now on the inside of your arm.

The drug's effects were starting to work more efficiently, your eyes started drooping, your hearing getting cloudy and your fingers starting to lose sensation.

The last thing you heard was the sound of whooshing, a heat that you could feel from where you laid, crinkling with energy. His footsteps resound around the room, the door sliding open.

You hear the shouts and screams seconds after, right as you lose consciousness.

You wake in his arms, a fur blanket covering you from the cold of the underground city of Coruscant. You recognize your surroundings as a hangar, a large ship in the center, shiny and luxurious.

Your surprise gasp as the hull of the ship opened amused him, he chuckled as you grip onto his shoulders as he walks up the ramp. It was very clean, seats and amenities lining the walls of the hull, the lighting low and warm.

You pull the coat over your back as your feet touch the ground, warmed from the heater. He leads you to a seat, you yelp when you almost sink into the plush couch, it was soft, and well padded.

Suddenly the ship lurches, and you wait a few moments, the windows open and you could see as you rise to the upper levels of Coruscant. You finally see the sun and you stare until it felt as if your eyes were burning.

His hand meets your shoulder, kneading into it.

"Don't cry.", he whispers.

"You're safe now."

You smile at him, wiping tears you didn't even know were falling and chuckling.

"Thank you.", you stutter through emotion.

He likes the way you smile, and he likes the way you smile because of him.

——————————

You stare into the mirror. It was strange to see the bandage on your neck, you didn't even remember him taking out the chip, or the small pill shaped metal on your arm.

He told you it was better that way, the small incisions he made would heal quickly, if you were conscience, you would have risked messing him up.

The bandage was expensive, bacta patches were hard to come by, especially the good kind, but bacta shots and cream?

The cut was practically gone as you peeled off the bandage. You stare amazed at how neat the line was.

And then you look around the bathroom. It was big for a ship, some products were lined against the walls, high end shampoos and conditioners that you've seen be gifted to some of the girls at “work”.

Oils, hair masks, lotions and waxes were sprawled around the cabinets. Makeup you couldn't even recognize their uses for as well. A bottle of lube makes you chuckle.

There was even an array of options for your shower head. You tried all of the various pressures and settings, deciding on a harsher spray, wanting to rid the feeling of Coruscant off of your body.

You stay there for a while, half amazed at how the water was still running warm and trying to take your mind off of where you were before.

Your anxiety raises when you think or where you were going to travel to, where you would stay, and what if they somehow found you again.

He startles you as the door slides open. You clutch your chest, hiding and for a brief moment, shaking your head from the way your heart beats out of its chest.

He starts taking pieces of his armor off, you let your hands fall to your sides. He was wordless whenever he came into your room. Most of the talking was done after the deed was done.

You step from the shower, starting to lift your legs out of the tub but he lifts his hand for you to stop. You look at him quizzically.

You appreciated that about him. He liked you to feel good too, comfortable. He was the only person to make you cum, the only one that gets turned on by hearing your moan and squirm in his hold.

He was good with his hands that was for sure, he even gave you a pair of his gloves once. Something to remember him by as you got lonely.

You were concerned when he stood in front of you, unmoving, his hands flexing nervously.

When you extend your hand he takes it, you've done this several times, calming someone nervous, someone unsure of themselves. You didn't expect yourself to do this for him.

"You know me. Don't be nervous."

He nods stiffly, and he does the unexpected. Using the hand that was held in your own he lifts his helmet. You stare and suddenly he feels younger, worrying if his crush likes his haircut, if you like the way his nose sloped downwards into his plush lips, if you thought the patches of grey on his beard were attractive or not.

Your eyes narrow and he feels vulnerable, much more vulnerable than you even if you were the one completely naked, at least he still had his underwear on.

"What if I told you I expected you to be orange."

He tilts his head down, smiling sheepishly, his full head of hair attracting your hand like a magnet. It was soft, of course it would be if he wore the helmet all the time.

Your hand tightens over his arm, pulling him in to stand at the edge of the tub.

"Who knew I got lucky with such a looker."

He finally sees you, without a filter, without cameras or the helmet. He couldn't help but lean in, to feel your lips against his even if he didn't really know how to kiss.

But you stop him, a finger on his lips, tapping playfully. He didn't see the way you swallowed harshly, too focused on the way you smiled teasingly.

Of course, why would you want your first kiss to be in a random ship's fresher. How unromantic of him.

"No kissing, Mando."

"Din.", he corrects breathily. "Din Djarin. T-that's my name."

You cup his cheek lovingly. He was giving you the eyes, it was strange. It was making your heart race ever so slightly. Maybe, you thought, this last time before he left you god knows where, should be special.

You kiss right next to his lips, pushing down his boxers, and gripping his cock. He kicks off the fabric with his foot before getting in the tub, crowding your towards the wall, having a spray of water cascade over your both as you kiss down his throat.

You were surprised when he took the lead, holding your hips against his and leaning down to nip at your jaw. His tongue lays flat against your skin, drinking in the water that slides down your neck and to your clavicle.

It was holy. It touched your skin, making a path down towards your breasts and to the peaks of your nubs.

He sucks it in greedily, moaning as if he were drinking water for the first time, thirsty for more. Your taste was intoxicating, it was making him feral at the thought of sucking something else from your nipples.

More sweet and nutty than the floral taste of your skin.

Now that your birth control was deactivated, he thinks that in the next few months, it could be possible.

He moves further down, your hands caressing through his wet locks as he bites over parts of your flesh, gripping and squeezing as he explores you with open mouthed kisses.

He gets down on his knees. He stops and stares in between your legs.

"Can I...?"

You shift but his arms around your waist keep you still.

"No one's ever... I don't know if it'll be good."

He feels many emotions at once. In one hand it's pride that he gets to be the first to have you like this, on the other it's the anger that no one had ever attempted to.

"I don't want to dissapoint you..."

In our last time you wanted to add, but he shushed you before you could speak.

He looks up at you, his palm pushing your thigh up until it was over his shoulder. You swallow thickly, feeling his breath on your folds. He licks his lips curiously.

He's never done this before, but he's seen holos, holos of men and women going down and spreading legs, kissing and sucking as if they were real lips. Making their partners shout out into the air, their backs arching and their hips twitching to their mouths.

He's seen how the crook of a finger can make someone gush mouthfuls of arousal. He wanted that for you, he wanted to do that for you.

He dreamt of the day he could finally taste you.

He shuffled forward and your back met the wall making you shiver so hard you had to grip onto his head to stabilize. You chuckle awkwardly. He was looking up at you, his head level with your mound.

His intense gaze broke and he pushed his face into you. He adjusts you upwards, making your back slide against the walls.

You were on the tips of your toes, the backs of your shoulders pressing harshly against the metal walls and your back arching, pressing your hips into his mouth so that his tongue could slide in deeper.

This was amazing you thought, all of the years of giving pleasure and just now getting it back in return because of Mando-no-Din. It made you sad, it made tears fall from your eyes from how lucky you got.

You would pray to whoever gave him the pin in the first place, get down on your knees and bow for leading the only kind soul you've ever known in your life to you.

He moans for you, for the musky taste of your slick, now spreading around his face and down his throat from the spraying water. He kneads your thigh, his other hand pressing against your ass so that he could push you closer to his face, so that he could tighten your legs around his head.

He wanted to suffocate, he only wanted to live to please you.

His fingers run over your opening and his lips wrap around your clit. When he pushes in two of his thick digits you cry out, your hands moving over his head to pulls at his locks He sucked relentlessly, furiously as he feels his scalp burn.

His hand thrusts quickly, and he licks greedily from your opening, interchanging between his mouth sucking on your clit to lapping at you as more of your arousal is scooped out with the curl of his fingers.

He hits the sensitive spot at the edge of your opening every time he flicks his hand.

Your chest was burning, your stomach tightening as he continued, your orgasm approaching like a train, hard and heavy and knocking the breath out of you.

Your whole body burned when he continued despite the way your cunt tightened around his fingers so tightly he couldn't even move, despite the way you practically threw your head back against the shower walls and gave an animalistic cry.

"Din!", you shouted. He growled at that.

A harsh suck on your swollen and overused nub finally makes your body shake uncontrollably, your voice was lost to half silent groans and the way your body was willing your lungs to stop working.

You gushed over his hand, the lower half of his chest covered in you. He licked what he could, the water washing off most of it from his chest.

He stares at your pussy, amazed. It was so swollen and you were still twitching. Even as he moved your thigh off his shoulder and gently put you to your feet, he could still taste you in his mouth.

He hummed from the way you clutched onto his shoulders, shaking and only able to stand for so long before your legs gave out and he had to lift your legs up and around his waist.

He holds you, angling the showerhead against your back and head so that you wouldn't get cold.

Your hot breaths against his neck made him shiver. You chuckle when you stop shaking, finally able to take a full breath in without panting.

He presses you against the wall again, your legs still tightly wound against his waist, your pussy rubbing against his cockhead, hard and aching.

He groans when you shift against the wall, reaching to the base of his cock and angling towards your opening. When you tighten your legs he groans, simultaneously pushing himself into you as your ankles lock together.

You stay like that, leaning most of your weight against the wall, reaching for bottles of shampoo and conditioner and massaging it into his scalp.

He moans every now and then, fighting the urge to bury his head back in your neck when you pull him back to rinse off his head with a smirk.

You wash him with a sponge, moaning softly and stopping to close your eyes and rock gently against him every now and then.

"Fuck, Din, you've always been huge.", you murmur, catching your breath against his collarbone.

He thrusts when you rinse him off completely, getting lost in the way you moan his name so sweetly, the way you claw at his back and clench down tightly.

The water stops, already run out and you don't even notice from the steam surrounding you, both of your bodies producing enough heat to keep you warm.

His thumb lazily traces around your folds, moving over your clit when you bite into his shoulder, sucking bruises after your, this time less powerful, orgasm.

He grunts, pushing as deep as he could, your hips flush against each other as he cums for what feels like minutes.

You both catch your breath. You rub his back and rest your head against his shoulder as he keeps you plugged with his cock.

“I love you.”, he moans, kissing the side of your head.

Your hands tighten around him as he moves, curling around the back of his neck.

You moan lightly from the way you bounce lightly on his cock as he carries you to a room, as spacious as the bathroom and just as full of goodies you didn't know the uses for.

He was emotional you assured yourself, he just came in you without protection, your taste probably still on his tongue. It was just an overdose of oxytocin running through his body. Of affection.

He didn't mean it.

“Flattered.”, you murmur. He chuckles while lying down with you on top of him. A small oof coming from your lips as he adjusts on the bed.

His hands wound themselves around you and as you finally dried amongst the warm air, he pulled the sheets up your body, covering you both completely with the scent of cleanliness.

Your head rests against his chest, your stomach on his.

You didn’t do cuddles. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t before. But now, with Din holding you close, feeling his breath as his chest lifted and fell, you think you liked them.

——————————

It was strange seeing him with his armor again. You felt honored, as if you knew a secret no one else did. But when he led you outside, wearing clothes that fit you perfectly and that were of the finest quality you've ever seen, you thought he was jesting you.

Of all places to dump you in, he decided that Tatooine was where you belonged?

Just as you were about to plead for him to at least take you to the planet over a short woman with a strong mane of curly hair pops out behind a pile of crates, small droids following behind her.

"Take this piece of space trash out of my hangar Mando!"

She stalks to him with a wrench in her hand, but stops when she sees you, slightly behind him and sticking close to his side.

"Oh not you sweetheart. That."

She points to the ship; you nod as if you understood.

"What happened to the starfighter?"

She gasps, not allowing him to speak. He sighs.

"Don't tell me it was incinerated by the imperials again."

You turn, clutching his arm in worry.

"Imperials?"

He turns between you both quickly, stuttering.

"No. It's fine. I just have special cargo at the moment."

She looks between you both, your hand lightly on his forearm and his chest puffing beside you.

"aaah. I see."

She eyes you up and down and you shift on your feet, feeling nervous.

He told you he was going to introduce you to one of his friends, someone who was going to help you. He also said that she knows about you. How much is what you worry about.

She turns suddenly, shouting over her shoulder about a gift she had for a green baby? and that she had to scrounge around for it.

You look back at him, and he shrugs shaking his head.

She came back, procuring a small doll and shoving it into his arms as the tiny droids dragged you by the pants to the side, a small door sliding open and revealing a room.

It lifts its arms, as if shouting 'ta da'. You smile softly, imaging a life here. At least the start of it.

You think of maybe learning a few things from Peli, start working along with her, maybe expand to other towns in Tatooine.

Your heart warms at the prospect of friends, maybe finding someone to spend your life with. Someone kind and caring. Someone who didn't see you as an object.

That would be nice, you think.

Peli shouts your name. You walk over to them, Din was discussing something with her, expressing himself with his hands clasped together in front of him as if he were explaining something to a child.

You chuckle when she waves her hand, pulling you roughly by the arm to her side.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll take care of her, alright?"

You chuckle, she was growing on you.

But then she let go of your arm and Din stepped forward, his hands placed on your waist and pulling you forward. You look up at him, your brows furrowed. The way he was holding you was intimate.

"Din, what-"

His helmet made you shiver, he stays still against you for a while, holding you close. He backed away slightly, his hands caressing over your arms.

His hand lands heavily on your shoulder, Peli was watching intently.

"You'll be safe here. I'll come back once I finish preparing our home for your arrival.”

Our?

Your head perks up at that. You look up confused. His words repeated in your head. Our... home?

But he was a client. A friend, someone you trusted. That was all he was, you thought he knew that too.

You repaid him for rescuing you in the shower, you didn't think that you owed him anything after that. You wanted a normal life, with normal friends and a normal spouse and normal kids.

Surely he didn't think you would stay with him after everything that happened. After everything it seemed he was dealing with in his own life.

His palm covers your cheek, his thumb rubbing over it lovingly.

You smile, he was too lovesick to realize it was the same face you made when you were attending other clients. He leaves with a nod to Peli, his hand sliding down your arms and squeezing your hand.

She gives you a once over when his ship was finally out of sight. You looked dazed, you were probably tired. And by the crease of your eyebrows when he mentioned home, you were out of the loop.

“He lives on a planet near Mandalore. That’s where he’s taking you. Your going to meet his son, Grogu..”

Son?

Now you were even more confused. Everyone knew about him and his son, they practically became legend.

“You don’t know who he is, do you?”

You shake your head. She sighs exasperated.

“He’s the most powerful mandalorian in the galaxy. He’s their ruler.”, she says proudly.

He was her friend and he saved her life maybe once or twice. She also liked to boast that she practically knew royalty.

“I thought he was a bounty hunter, he told me he was a bounty hunter. That was the reason he could afford-…”

“Oh, he is. But it’s mostly for sport now.”

You stay quiet.

“He talks about you all of the time. This woman he met that makes his heart squeeze- my words not his- he’s not the sentimental type, at least not like that.”

You seemed fidgety, your legs shifted, you fiddled with your hands. You were cute she thought. You easily flustered.

“You wanna know something?”

She didn’t look to you for a response.

“He told me once that he thought you would be a good queen.”

Your heart stopped, your eyes were watering.

“Aw don’t cry! I hate to ruin the surprise, it’s just I heard so much about you! I couldn’t help it, I’m excited.”

You smile, wiping your face, forcing yourself to appear content.

“He said he’ll make you the most beautiful wedding too. You two will make such cute babies afterwards, I’ll even lend you the nurse droid I just fixed up. It’s in the back actually let me go get it.”

She scurries to a storage room full of scraps and metal, leaving you standing and looking up to the sky, wondering how the hell you were supposed to manage so many surprises at once.

——————————

A/n: I like the idea of Din just going to tatooine and spilling his life to Peli, failing to mention that he met this really stelar woman in an illegal brothel 💀

Probably blushing and talking it up about future baby names and his entire imaginary wedding in one night half drunk

I’ll write a fic about it or sm i don’t know I need ideas for Din being vulnerable and talking about his love life

Peli still offers to babysit even when Din said he wanted a whole army of children; she thinks they’ll come out the womb with full beskar armor low key and thinks that would be super cute

I love the spectator sport AU and the hurt and comfort! Can you write Joel having a nightmare? Maybe the reader comforts him?

in the dead of night

pairing: joel miller x reader (pairing from the soccer parents AU)

summary: joel has a nightmare, you comfort him.

warnings: nightmare, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff

word count: around 400

author’s note: i wrote this in a few minutes on my phone. i cannot be held liable for any grammatical errors.

i’m also taking more drabble requests!

Being a mother, you’d woken up to all sorts of strange things in the middle of the night. Whether it was Chloe shaking your shoulder because she had a nightmare and didn’t want to be alone, or the absolutely lovely sound of your baby wailing through the night. Despite your extensive knowledge of strange wake-up calls, this one was definitely a first.

Fingernails dug into your skin, causing you to wake up with a yelp. A cold dread washed over you for a second, your sleepy brain thinking that maybe there was a deranged home invader whose preferred method of invasion was scratching their victims awake.

The reality was far less scary—for you, at least. As your eyes adjusted to the dark room, you recognized the fingers gripping you extraordinarily tight as your partner’s. You slowly became a bit more awake, and realized that Joel was shaking just the slightest bit, and that perspiration beaded at his hairline.

“Joel,” you whispered, removing his tight grip from your shoulder. After quietly saying his name, all you got in response was an unintelligible murmur.

“Joel,” you repeated, this time slightly louder, but still aware of the fact that your children were sleeping in the next rooms over.

At this utterance of his name, he stirred slightly more, but was very clearly still asleep, and still grappling with whatever strange thing was happening in his dream that had him sweating and gripping onto you like you were going to slip from his fingers.

You set your hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him while saying his name one more time, this time with a sense of urgency and concern. That somehow managed to be enough to finally wake the man in bed with you up, and Joel gasped as he awoke.

“Joel,” you said softly, hovering over the man. “Are you alright?”

He looked up at you wordlessly, blinking a few times before pulling you into a rib-crushing hug.

“I thought I lost you,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“Oh baby,” you cooed, playing with the hairs at the back of his head as he tightly embraced you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Nightcall

Rafa Quintero x gn!reader (no particular warnings? the usual for the show, nothing explicit), 3563 words

a/n : here is a self-indulgent Rafa Pov for @narcolini and I (and all the Rafa babes out there) ❤ Nightcall is also the name of a London Grammar song and it slaps and it's underrated

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx

It is dark outside when Rafa opens his eyes. He’s not sure what is pulling him out of his sleep, but the silk sheets around him are disorienting. He knows he’s home, there is no doubt in his mind, but still, the way his sweat clings to his body, sticking the sheets to his naked legs, bringing back memories of the nightmare he was having mere seconds ago, it all makes him wonder if he’s really awake. It’s the second ring that grounds him, shakes him to the core, makes his heart skip a beat. By the third ring, he’s already on his feet. His chains are cold on his chest, a harsh contrast against his heated skin.

No one ever calls him in the middle of the night, they always know better. Fix it by yourselves, pendejos, or make sure it can wait until morning. He’s not sure if he should be angry, he’s still so damn tired and his eyes hurt. His palms are digging in his eyesockets when it rings a fourth time. He picks it up, the movement so fast that the wire tenses, almost pulling the phone off the nightstand.

‘’ Rafa? ‘’

It’s you. Your voice sounds far away, a whisper almost lost in the buzzing of the line, but it’s you. He says your name back in disbelief, it's almost a question. He hates how his voice sounds, hoarse, raspy.

‘’ Rafa, dios, I- ‘’

There’s rustling on the other side as if you’re readjusting the phone between your ear and your shoulder, ‘’ I didn’t want to call you so late. Fuck, I didn’t want to call you at all, but I- ‘’

You take a deep breath and he can hear how it gets caught in your throat, shaking on the way out. He knows he should say something, but he feels lightheaded, glued to the floor, like all air has been sucked out of him. He can barely hear you against the sound of his heart echoing back to him through the plastic receiver.

‘’ Are you alright? ‘’

It’s the only words he can muster, pulled out of him before he can even process them. God, it’s you, he can’t believe it. But the carpet under his toes feels real and the breeze coming in from the window makes him shiver. He starts to believe he dreamed it all when you don’t answer him, when the line goes back to being silent. He had stopped dreaming about you after a while, back when your paths had separated, when he had told himself he didn’t need to be distracted by this, by you.

‘’ No? ‘’ It sounds like a question, but it’s hesitant like you’re waiting for him to tell you the answer. ‘’ I mean, yes, but- I- damn it. ‘’

Something clashes on the other side, plastic being cracked, being hit. He knows it’s your doing and he realizes you’re calling him from a payphone. Rafa can see it clear as day, your hand hitting the transparent window, putting your anger on something, anything.

‘’ This was a mistake. I’m sorry for waking you up. ‘’

This stirs something in him. Fear, desperation. You can’t hang up now, not after all this time.

‘’ Don’t. ‘’ He is gripping the phone so hard, he can feel the plastic wince at the strength. ‘’ Tell me what’s wrong. Don’t hang up. I can fix it. ‘’

Fix it, fix this, us. Rafa can hear you breathing on the other side, the rain hitting his window on his right, pouring out on the balcony. He tries again, ‘’ Tell me what happened. ‘’

He hears you shuffling once more and then it’s the sound of coins moving around, hair brushing the receiver.

‘’ Let me- ‘’ A car is passing by, splashing water around. You sniff, ‘’ Let me put more money in this thing, okay? ‘’

He doesn’t like how defeated your voice sounds, how tired it is. Every peso that he hears cling against the metal is torture for him. He had never been a patient man, he’s been told that a lot, he doesn’t care.

‘’ I’ve been doing business con El Golfo, yeah? ‘’

He knows, of course, he knows about you and Ábrego. He couldn’t stop himself from sending someone to sneak around, to pay good money to know your whereabouts. Rafa didn’t believe you, back then, when you had told him you were calling it quits. He had expected you to ease into the coke business as he did, coming back a week or two later, begging for him to let you in again. He would’ve, but you never came back around, not this time.

‘’ We moved around products for them tonight. I think they betrayed me, everyone’s- ‘’

He can hear you swallow. He can see you leaning forward, pinching the bridge of your nose. Your voice quivers.

‘’ Everyone’s dead. I think. Whatever they paid the police, it was good money, they didn’t even bother to arrest anyone. ‘’

His ribcage is hurting him, a weird pain going straight through his chest, he’s sweating again.

‘’ Where are you? ‘’ He croaks. His whole body is stuck in a weird loop, he can’t move, he’s shaking at the same time.

It’s your next words that finally wake him up, feet turning and burning against the carpet. Please come get me, Rafa. I can’t do this. He’s moving now, and everything is so fast and so slow. He grabs a shirt that he doesn’t button up from a chair, a pair of pants from the first drawer. You stay right there, okay? I’m on my way. I’m coming. He’s calling out as he goes down the stairs, screaming for a car to be brought around. He’s angry now. Whatever shock and insecurity were keeping him stuck to the phone vanished. He can feel the cold metal of the gun he tucks into the back of his jeans, he can hear the squeal of his leather boots as they press against the marble floor.

In the back of his mind, he knows. He knows he should call Miguel, to let him know what is going on, to hear him say he might be going into a trap, that you chose your own path, and to let you deal with the consequences.

He knows that. He doesn’t care.

He didn’t care back then either when you had left, couldn’t give a shit, he told Miguel. Clearly, you weren’t up to joining the higher leagues, he thought. Who wouldn’t want more? Sell more, make more? Spend more? It bothered him so much at first, itching in his skin to think you didn’t understand it, understand him. He couldn’t tell when you had started to drift apart, idolizing different ideas, different lives. When he met Sofia a few weeks afterward, he thought it would solve it, solve the burning hole of betrayal in his chest, and oh was he mistaken.

His hands squeeze around the wheel thinking about it. It’s pouring hard outside, wipers going back and forth. He’s not angry at you anymore, not as much.

The tires screech when he finally stops, so fast that the movement sends him forward, bracing against the wheel. He can see your silhouette in the booth, blurred from the rain. You’re on the phone, talking to someone, and for a second, Miguel is behind him in the car, telling him he’s been betrayed again, that he was stupid to fall for it again, that-

Rafa opens the door, water slipping from the roof, soaking his sleeve. He can’t stay inside with his own thoughts. He made his choice. He’s here, like he told you he would be. His hair is sticking to his forehead, water dripping down his jaw. He lets the car run, he doesn’t plan on staying in the open anyway, telling you to stay at this street corner for so long was already dangerous as it is.

He can see your head following him as he walks around the hood. Steady steps, pushing the water out in ripples. He still can’t make out your face through the fogged window and for a second he hesitates again, almost catching the sidewalk with the top of his shoe in the process. He could leave and never think about this night again, he hasn’t looked into your eyes yet, he could go home and pretend he’s dreamed all of it.

You jump when he pulls the plastic door open,

‘’ Jesus, Rafa. Fuck, you scared me. ‘’ He watches your hands open and clenches back on the receiver, ‘’ I mean, I saw you get out. I don’t know why- ‘’

You’re soaked, from head to toe, who knows how long you had been running around before you finally decided to call him. Heavy drops of water are falling from your hair unto your leather jacket, running down the front. It is almost too big for you, your hands haft hidden by the cuff of the sleeves. His eyes fall back to your face, but you’re already watching him, gripping the phone with both hands. He can hear someone calling your name on the other side. You blink once, twice, but you can’t seem to be able to look away. He knows he can’t. You wipe some water off your face, pushing the leather under your nose, using the movement to turn back to your phone call.

‘’ Alejandro, I have to go now. We’ll fix this. ‘’

And then you hang up. Metal against metal, the sound of coins bumping somewhere in the back, sliding the change at the front. He knows you won’t take it. That it will make some kids happy. Candy money. You turn to him, your lips are pale, slightly blue from the cold.

‘’ You’re here. ‘’

‘’ I told you I would. ‘’

He hopes you never doubted it the way he did. That you believed him when he said it, that no one was perched on your shoulder telling you to run away and to not look back. He feels the water that runs down his back, pressing the fabric to his skin. You sniff again, and he’s sure you’ll catch a cold,

‘’ Can you bring me home? ‘’

God, he wishes he could, but he knows you’re grasping at straws, only wishing to be home after a shit show of a night. He shakes his head.

‘’ You know I can’t do that. ‘’

You scoff, ‘’ You can’t say I didn’t try. ‘’

Rafa cracks a smile. It’s small, but it pulls at his lips, showing the long dimples on the side of his cheeks. You had missed him. Missed how easy it was to talk with him, to feel seen, understood without too many words. His brown locks are sticking to his head, curls springing back to life. He passes a hand through them,

‘’ You have somewhere else I can bring you? ‘’

You nod, and you almost have a heart attack when he raises his arm up, pushing the material of his sleeve up with his fingers to wipe some water off your face. The cotton rubs against your skin, leaving a warm feeling across your cheek that you can’t shake away.

‘’ There’s a safe house in a suburb north of here, if you can bring me there, I’ll owe you one. ‘’

Here you are, negotiating again as if he would ask anything from you in return. He knows you prefer to keep things between you calm and civilized right now. Pretend like this is just an exchange of services.

‘’ Don’t push it, now. Come on, bobo, get in the damn car. ‘’

He wishes he could tell you it’s not like that, that it has never been and never will, that you mean too much to just be treated like a distant coworker, but he doesn’t. He can’t, so he stays silent as he steps out of the way, holding the plastic door open, allowing you to brush past him.

Rafa moves towards his side of the car, leaning between the seats to unlock your door from the inside. You fall on your seat, leather jacket squeaking against the leather booth. The moment your door closes, he steps on the gas, leaving the payphone behind in a fraction of a second.

‘’ I told you Ábrego was a prick. ‘’

‘’ You always tell me lots of things, Rafa. ‘’

He’s waving his hands around the wheel and he’s bristling at the thought. Just the idea of Juan Garcia putting his hands on you-

‘’ I told you to stay with us, that we could make this work. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t listen. ‘’

He knows he is channelling his anger on the wrong person, but still, he wants you to be angry at him too. To lash out, to tell him why you left, why you thought you could find better elsewhere without them, without him.

‘’ Stop this, Rafa. This has nothing to do with Guadalajara- ’’

‘’¿A sí? Because I recall you calling us pinche sapos del gobierno or something like that? ‘’

He knew it had always bothered you when Miguel had started to play businessman, mingling around with politicians and CEOs. We are criminals, Rafa, you had told him once, we pay those guys off, we don’t try to do their jobs. You had tried telling Miguel, time and time again, but he didn’t get it, maybe he didn’t even care to.

‘’ Ay, por favor, you know I never liked how close Miguel was to those senators! We were always a politician snitching away from crumbling down! Why am I even fighting with you over this?! ‘’

You sigh, head falling between your hands. He couldn’t stop himself and he hates it, hate seeing you hurt, hate shouting at you like that. When you speak again, it’s muffled by your sleeves, barely strong enough to be heard over the engine.

‘’ If I knew you’d be shitting on me this whole ride I would have just dealt with this myself. ‘’

‘’ You’d probably be dead, is what you would be. ‘’

‘’ Fuck you, Rafa, fuck you, really. ‘’

He stays silent then, there’s nothing left to say. It’s always the same things he brings up, every time, but it never changes the outcome, no matter how much he wishes it did. He thinks back to your words earlier. If you can bring me there, I’ll owe you one. It’s the only thing he can think of to make you understand, to break the silence in the car. He turns to you,

‘’ You don’t owe me anything, you know. Ever. ‘’

You snort, fingers pushing at the vents on the dash, pushing the heat toward your feet. He can feel your eyes on him for a second, he can see the small smile on the side of your face.

‘’ Oh, because we’re friends again, now? You’re gonna stop being a pendejo or-? ‘’

He knows you’re laughing at him, trying to change the subject, to not let this moment get too emotional. His nose wrinkles, shaking his head in a failed attempt to mock you. His fingers reach for the A/C, making sure the heat is on.

‘’ You know I don’t mean it, right? ‘’ Being an asshole, he wants to say, ‘’ I’m just- ‘’

He is met with silence once again. Words stuck in his throat, blocking his airway. He kind of hoped you would finish his sentence so he wouldn’t have to say it out loud. Admit that he is wrong, that he missed you. To let you know how much your call tonight had messed up his inside in a way he hadn’t felt in so long.

‘’ I missed you too, Rafa. ‘’

It’s comforting, the way you say it, it’s soft and meaningful, he can’t stop the sigh of relief that comes out of his chest. Your hand raises up, pressing against his bicep, the fabric of his shirt pushing more water into his skin. Your thumb is moving up and down, warming him up the best you can.

‘’ But you’re still the biggest bitch ever. ‘’ Your hand is higher now, meeting the back of his head with a loud slap, ‘’ Who do you think you were, talking to me like that, tonto, mmh?! ‘’

‘’ Ouch! What are- ‘’

You swat at him again and another time for good measure, he dodges, so you pinch his cheek with two fingers instead,

‘’ I make my own choices and I learn from them. You better not ‘i-told-you-so’ me ever again. ‘’

He snickers, pushing you back into your own seat. For a second, you are kids again, meeting on the playground being the school. No responsibilities, no bounties on your heads.

‘’ It’s my job to knock some sense into you. ‘’

‘’ Maybe you should keep it for yourself, from what I’ve heard you need it. ‘’

He stops in front of a house, it’s dark and small, buried between all the other ones. He knew it was this one you meant, back at the street corner after you gave him the address, your old parent’s house. After you moved from Badiraguato for your dad’s new job it had been a miracle that you ended up finding each other again in Guadalajara.

‘’ You want me to go in with you? Make sure it’s safe? ‘’

Rafa knows that he’s staling, holding on to the last minutes before you inevitably get up and leave. You shake your head.

‘’ I’m sure it’s good. I’ll be fine. ‘’

You sigh, crossing and uncrossing your legs in your seat. He’s not sure what more to say, but you lean towards him, gently taking his hand between yours. It’s awkward, fingers intertwining with yours like you two had never done this before. You smile, it’s soft, barely there, he notices a scar that wasn’t there before.

‘’ You be careful out there, Rafa. ‘’

‘’ You know I’m the one they’re scared of now, hmm? ‘’

You scoff, squeezing his hand with yours, a warning. Listen to me. This is serious, tonto. You look up at him, and it’s sadness he can see in your eyes, regret maybe.

‘’ Don’t be a smartass, you know what I mean. ‘’

The movement is shaky and awkward again, but you bring your joined hands up, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand. It’s warm, electrifying and he can’t do anything but hope that you would just stay here with him.

You’re opening the door before he can say anything else, sliding out of your seat before he can tell you that he will be careful if you ask him. As you get out of the car, your hand slipping from his, he leans forward and tugs at your sleeve, pulling you half back in your seat.

‘’ Are you going to call again? ‘’

Rafa feels like he is shouting, anything to have your attention, to make you stay with him a second more. He hates that he can't tell what you're thinking, what's behind your eyes. They're shining from the street lights outside, slightly wet from the cold, completely unreadable to him. He’s begging, he realizes, he never does that, but he doesn’t care.

‘’ Do you want me too? ‘’ you breathe out. Your voice is small, hardly audible over the raindrops falling on the roof.

‘’ I do. ‘’ I really want you to, he is itching to say, please, it’s pulling his chest.

‘’ Then I will. ‘’

He watches your mouth move before the words finally start to make sense. Your head moves down, body leaning to meet his in-between the seats. Your lips touch the corner of his mouth, the skin of his cheek touching his teeth from the motion. You are close to him for less than a second, already moving back to the door before he realizes, but still, he can smell your perfume, taste the rain and the sweat that is mixed in it. Rafa can feel the cold of your fingers on his forearm, the heat that is spilling from your lips into his whole being.

You close the door behind you with a small wave, mouthing him a thank you through the window. It was barely a second, a second where his heart had stopped and his insides had melted. Another second pass and you are gone, inside and safe, door closed, locked. I really want you to, he was itching to say, please, it’s pulling his chest again.

Then I will. You would. Rafa had never been a patient man, he had been told that a lot, and he never cared. But tonight, tomorrow, for weeks or months, he could wait, he decided. He just has to wait for the phone to ring again.

I have no idea what he's saying but I agree

AN ICON

the parasocial relationship is really parasocialing with this one (also handsssuughhh)

Such a cute chapter 🫠

My Future in You | 1.9 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing, kind of a filler )):

…

Back and forth, back again. White socks padding along the floor, his eyes following you like he’s in the crowd at a tennis match. Bradley watches in silence. He’s sitting back against the wall behind his bed, since he doesn’t have a headboard, arms folded over his chest.

Asking about the future has clearly triggered some kind of meltdown, and at this point, he knows better than to intervene. Instead, he grabs the baseball on his bedside table and tosses it upwards, catching it again.

Each time it lands in his palm, you turn. Pacing from one side of his room to the other, ranting about the logistics of his question. It’s been around fifteen minutes now, Bradley’s sitting in his boxers and a t-shirt, paying less and less attention.

You’ve moved on to the second phase of your rant now. Phase one was about you and him — barely knowing each other, not even liking one another. That kind of thing. He had tried disagreeing, but you’re better at rationalizing than he is.

This is more about the financial side of things.

“I have money.” Bradley shrugs his shoulders calmly, the ball bounces off of the ceiling and ricochets — he leans off of the bed and catches it. Without looking back at you, he continues to toss it up and catch it again. You stare at him.

The boy sitting on the cheap mattress, tossing up a baseball he had taken from this year’s freshman orientation. The father of your child.

You scoff incredulously. Beige walls, plain navy sheets and football banners on the walls. Like this is the kind of home you’d like to raise your child in. “Real money. Babies aren’t cheap, and I’ll be working — do you know how much daycare costs?”

“I have real money.”

You inhale sharply. Everything’s hitting you all at once. You had been putting off this conversation for a reason and now you’re freaking out. You’ve got less than twenty weeks to get your shit together. Stopping by the door, you prop your weight up against it and breathe out hard.

“Real real money, Bradley — I barely even have a credit score, there’s no way we’re getting approved for an apartment.”

“My credit score is good and I’ve got money from the house.” He shrugs again, spinning the ball around in his hand and tossing it up. Too hard, once again. It bounces from the ceiling and ricochets. You catch the ball.

He looks up at you, finding you staring at him now. He raises his eyebrows.

“House?”

“Yeah, my parents’ house.” Bradley replies, settling down and tucking his arm behind his head now that you’re squeezing his only source of entertainment so hard that he’s somewhat concerned you might crush it. He was certain he had mentioned this to you before. “I inherited it after my Mom died.”

The house, the two life insurance policies. There had to be some kind of upside to losing both of his parents before he had turned twenty. You stand by his door, dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry… so, you own a house?” You squeak out.

He shrugs his shoulders again, glancing down at the baseball in your hands and sighing. “Yeah, it’s by the base in Norfolk. My dad was stationed there for a bit in the eighties. I was going to sell it, but my cousin’s staying there. He pays me rent.”

You take a small step towards him. He runs his fingers through his curls, tilting his head, smiling softly. Those stupid, big brown eyes stare into yours. He lifts his hand and reaches out for you.

“I’ve got this,” He nods, curling his fingers for you to come closer. You swallow softly as you step towards him. He sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, parting his thighs. You step between his legs. Bradley rests his hands on your hips.

He leans forwards, pressing his lips gently to your stomach over your sweater. “We’ve got this. You’ve been saying it since the beginning.”

You soften slightly, pushing your fingers through his auburn curls. He looks up at you, lips quirked up into a smile. Suddenly, his brows furrow.

“Wait, so — when I offered you money in December… what did you think I meant?” He frowns slightly, stroking his hands along your sides. Thinking back to it, you shrug.

“A couple hundred, I don’t know. You were being a dick.”

He chuckles and pulls you forwards so that you’re perched on his knee. His perpetually warm skin pressing flush against yours. He wraps his arms around you and nods his head. “I’m sorry.”

Bradley has successfully bypassed your first two protests to moving in together, leaving you to sit and think about your options now. Graduation is two months away, the baby’ll be here a few months after that.

You look at Bradley, trailing your fingers through his curls tenderly as you think about your future with him.

Sitting, rolling, crawling. Experiencing all of that with your son, taking him to the park and to the pool — all while Bradley’s a couple of hundred miles away, on his own.

Could you do this without Bradley? — Probably. It’s just that you’re starting to question whether you want to anymore. This morning, you had a boyfriend — not Bradley. Now you’re sitting here discussing moving in with him.

“But my job is going to be here.” You say quietly, frowning at him.

He nods his head. “I thought about that. There are offices near Pensacola, it’ll just be a case of calling them up and asking to switch. Which, your dad’ll be able to organise for you.”

“Did you forget that he kind of disowned me?”

Bradley shakes his head, “No, I remembered, but he spoke about how proud he was of you for getting that grad scheme at a couple of events, it’s on google. People would probably ask questions if you suddenly dropped out of it, right? — It’ll be easier for you to work if we’re together, so it’s in his best interests to make a phone call.”

Once again, he renders you silent. This is not the same idiot you’ve been putting up with for the past few months. He skims his hand along your thigh and shrugs his shoulders.

“So, yes?”

Your lips quirk softly at the edges, that thundering beat in your chest finally slowing. He grins, leaning forwards and pressing his lips to yours. He knows that his parents would be proud of him, using his money for this.

It beats blowing it on alcohol and new cars. He’s happy with his bronco and cheap beer. He knows he’d be even happier getting to see his son grow every day.

“Where’s all this coming from?” You murmur softly, pulling back and trailing your fingertips back down his arm.

Jake makes it home a little after 9am the next morning, his head pounding as he tries to close the door as quietly as possible. He stumbles forwards into the kitchen, needing water urgently before he blacks out. Eyes closed, he turns on the sink and sticks his head under the stream of water, mouth wide open.

A soft giggle to his left draws his attention. He lifts his head and squints. You’re sitting on Bradley’s lap at the table, both of you looking over the top of a laptop at Jake. He stares at the two of you, blank-faced.

“Morning, sunshine.” Bradley teases playfully. You laugh softly and nudge your elbow into his ribs. He kisses your jaw tenderly, wrapping his arms around your middle.

If Jake didn’t feel sick before, staring at the two of you is certainly getting him there.

“What are you two so chirpy about?” He mumbles tiredly.

You open your mouth to answer. You’ve been awake half of the night, figuring out how to delicately break this to Jake. He’s not going to take it well, and you know you need to approach this with some sensitivity.

“We’re moving in together.” Bradley answers, smiling.

You close your mouth quickly as Jake’s gaze turns towards you. The look on your face tells him that it’s true, and that’s as much as he cares to hear. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

There’s something about knowing that there’s nothing he can do to intervene that really just makes his hangover that little bit worse. Knowing that his little sister is planning to move to the other side of the country, with a baby and that idiot — and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He turns away from you both, shaking his head as he leaves the kitchen without a word. Bradley scoffs, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the apartment listings.

It’s three days before Jake speaks to either of you again. The only thing that gets him to cave is hearing you crying in Bradley’s room. He’s halfway up the stairs, stopping in his tracks. The walls here are paper thin, he can hear the bass in Bradley’s voice as he murmurs to you, trying to get you to calm down.

He finds himself equal parts angry and confused with you. Jake understands that you’re scared of doing this alone, but he’ll never understand how you can give Bradley so many chances. He has hurt you time and time again, and Jake can’t stand the thought of him not being there to protect you.

You flinch as the door to Bradley’s room swings open. Jake second-guesses it as the door’s halfway opening, relieved to find that you’re both fully dressed once it’s fully open. He folds his arms over his chest. Bradley sits up, unwrapping his arms from around you.

You whimper softly, trying to stop the stream of tears as you push yourself to the edge of the bed.

“Pensacola.” It’s all that Jake manages to say. Bradley’s brows furrow in confusion, he nods slowly at your brother. Jake exhales. “Fine. I’ll come too.”

“Excuse me?” Bradley scoffs. It’s not exactly what he had in mind — you, him, your son… and Jake.

“Flight school, can’t be that hard if they’ll let you in.” Jake replies. You sit up and wipe at your cheeks, sniffling softly. Bradley turns his head towards you, then back towards Jake. You push yourself up and throw yourself at his chest, wrapping your arms around your big brother. Bradley’s lips quirk amusedly.

It might not have been what he had planned, but then again — none of this is. Leaving his future in the hands of Seresin’s hasn’t worked out badly for him before, and he knows that you’ll like having Jake nearby. But Jake’s got another thing coming if he thinks he’ll be a better pilot.

…

@thedroneranger

@chaoticweirdogeek

@alanadetigy

@itsmytimetoodream

@oldnatgwenaccount

@khaylin27

@bioodforbiood

@luckyladycreator2

@mizzzpink

@mak-32

@cherrycola27

@unordinare

@shanimallina87

@marvel-f1-and-more

@heli991113

@pauv-0414

@ghxst-heart

@momc95

@asteria33

@lilyevanswhore

@diamond-3

@galaxy-moon

@shawnsblue

@jostyriggslover96

@forgiveliv

@shawnsblue

@little-wiseone

@lovemesomevesey

I'M UNWELL AAAAAAA