He Is Everything To Me. Everyone Says: "thank You Amy"

He is everything to me. Everyone says: "thank you Amy"

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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.

142 notes View Post

mirimim

2 years ago

Blow by Blow | 0.5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader au

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Synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, no warnings in particular for this one

…

“Okay, um — no, no,” Natasha winces, shaking her head at you. She grabs your knee and pushes it back down. “No legs — no kicking.”

Jake snorts at the other side of the gym, leaning his head back, then remembering he’s supposed to be spotting Javy, who’s failing out of a bench press. “Oh shit.”

He catches the bar and helps his friend lift it back onto the rack.

“But… I saw on TV—“

“Different sport, kid.” Payback chuckles from the side of the ring, leaning against the ropes. Your lips part slightly, confused. Bradley leans against the doorframe to the office, arms folded over his chest.

You nod slowly as Natasha guides you back into the correct stance. You squint at the heavy bag, readying yourself to go again.

In the month since you’ve moved in, you’ve gotten better at this — but there’s still a lot you don’t know. Still, Natasha has enjoyed seeing you come out of your shell.

Interviewing each of the staff members for the website really helped. Sitting down with each of them for a couple of hours and doing a video interview with them to post on the About section of the website, just a friendly Q&A to make people feel more comfortable coming in and meeting the team.

If it helped you warm up to the idea of training here, then it would help others too.

Bradley is the only one that you haven’t managed to pin down for an interview yet, but he has been busy — he has the most clients around here because he’s been around the longest

Maverick has been loving your ideas so far. He thinks you’re a tech genius for some basic website design and creative ideas.

This entire month has been like a dream that you’re just waiting to wake up from. Even that evening, after hours spent at a local bar — you’re on cloud nine.

Maybe a couple too many drinks, maybe it’s just because you’re so happy, but you’ve been laughing all night.

“You sure you don’t want me to drop you off at home? — It’s on my way.” Payback offers, dangling his keys from his index finger. He’s got a fight coming up and he has cut out all alcohol, but he just has a tiny little sports car that won’t fit everyone. Bradley lives closest.

“Well, yeah — I’m not going to let her walk home on her own,” Bradley answers as he shoots a quick look over to you, grinning with Bob and Mickey as the three of you make plans for the weekend coming. “Besides, it’s not that far out of my way.”

Jake nods his head and pats Bradley’s shoulder, taking Bradley’s spot in that tiny little sports car, “Alright, we’ll see you tomorrow then. Don’t forget you agreed to take care of my eight a.m. session.”

Bradley calls out an agreement and waves the two of them off as he walks over to you.

“You ready?” He asks gently.

“Oh — yeah. Okay, bye guys, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” You stick your arms out and they hug a side of you each, then call out their goodnights to the each of you.

“What did you guys end up deciding to do this weekend?” Bradley asks, reaching past you and curling his fingers around the empty glass in your hand. He takes it and sets it onto the table beside you, then catches hold of your hand and turns you towards the door.

You comply wordlessly, letting him steer you towards the exit. He drops your hand and lets you walk ahead of him.

“Bob knows this hiking trail that has some really great views, and I’ve never been on a real hike, so we’re all going to take Tank with us.”

He hums behind you to show that he’s listening, stepping outside into the night right behind you. “Sounds like fun.”

“Do you want to come?” You offer, turning your head to look at him, your features soft and expectant. Not quite hopeful. Rooster shakes his head.

“Can’t, I’m working this weekend.” Bradley answers. It’s not a lie, he should be working this weekend, but he’s also kind of the boss and hasn’t ever taken notice of the hours that he’s supposed to be working.

You inhale softly, not bothering to argue with him about it. You kind of don’t want him there, anyway. Being all brooding and weird — it would be more fun without him there. That feels mean. It’s not that you don’t like Bradley, it’s just that he’s kind of a dick sometimes.

“You alright? — you’ve gone all quiet, all of a sudden.” Bradley nudges his hand into the back of your bicep as you walk ahead of him. You turn and look over your shoulder once more.

Maybe it’s all the fresh air, but you feel a thousand times more buzzed out here than you had in there.

“Could we walk back along the marina?” You slow down so that you’re at his side. Bradley nods his head, it’ll only add an extra ten minutes to the walk, and sometimes it’s nice down there at night time.

You walk ahead as he pushes his hands into his pockets and watches you. Bradley trained with Jett for a couple of years, he had known from the first session that Jett was an asshole — he just hadn’t realised that it went further than that. Maybe he could have done something earlier.

Your skin cools quickly with the ocean air, goosebumps rising on your skin from the sudden change in temperature.

Finally, you round the path and grow close enough to see the boats, the lights of the city and right out over the bay. You slow down to take notice of it.

“So, do you live near here?” You ask Bradley without looking back to him, gaze turned out over the water. Bradley watches you walk in front of him, his eyes on your legs as you narrowly miss each crack in the pavement. Inches from stumbling, somehow staying on your feet.

“Near Little Italy.” He answers you.

You scrunch your brows and turn quickly towards him, walking backwards without slowing. His features tighten, eyes on your heels — there’s a rock on the path, your shoe lands centimetres from it and you escape breaking your ankle.

“This is out of your way, then.” You realise.

Bradley lifts his gaze, looking at you with the faintest hint of amusement on his face. He nods slowly. “Yeah. But it’s alright.”

“I didn’t say thank you.” You remind him, lips quirking up into a playful smile. His mouth toys at a smirk. He likes it when you forget yourself around him, leave all of that worrying and quietness behind. He can see why the others like you so much when you’re like this.

He pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans and nods again. He smirks back at you, “That’s alright too.”

You laugh and roll your eyes at him. “If I keep training with Nat, pretty soon you’ll be asking me to walk you home.”

He chuckles lowly. “Is that right?”

You nod your head and slow down, letting him catch up to you. He slows, standing in front of you, brows scrunching. He opens his mouth to question your motives, then stops as you turn your head and look out over the water.

Salty sea air, fuzzy bright lights around the harbour, warm skin as you lean forwards into him. It’s a half-intentional move, you want to be closer but you’re also just tipsy and not that steady on your feet.

Bradley’s hands find your waist, unfazed as you tip your chin to look at him. Maybe it’s the liquid courage, but you aren’t in the slightest bit bashful about staring at him.

He lets you, glancing down at the patterned florals on your dress as his fingers lay still over the material. As his eyes meet yours again, they’re especially dark in this light, almost black. Nothing like the golden hue from this evening’s sunset.

He inhales slowly. Pomegranate, vanilla violet, mahogany wood and amber. His fingers smooth softly over your waist, eyes not faltering from yours.

You press closer into him, palm splayed out open on his chest, warm muscle under your fingertips. He stares at you, for a second questioning whether or not you’re about to do what he thinks you’re going to do. He leans into your touch, letting your lips press softly into his.

His breath stops in his airways. You mouth on his, just for a moment. As you go to pull back, his lips chase yours. You hum softly into him, meeting him with another gentle kiss. His bottom lip slotted between yours as his fingers curl into the fabric of your dress.

Pulling back slowly, you look up at him through your lashes and take one step back. Bradley loosens his hold on you, then drops his arms back to his sides.

You turn away from him and continue ahead.

“What was that for?” Bradley’s brows scrunch. You take a deep breath and sigh contentedly as you continue along the path, walking ahead of him once again.

“I just thought it would be a good spot for a first kiss.”

Your cheeks are warm, your hands cold as you trail along the path at the side of the marina. Bradley walks just a pace behind you, his hands pushed deep into the front pockets of his jeans.

Just when he thinks he’s got you figured out, you’re off ahead of him again. He shakes his head softly. A good spot for a first kiss.

He squints at the back of your head — that implies that there will be more kisses to come, is he meant to kiss you again?

Your heels clack across the parking lot, around the side of the building. As you near the base of the metal steps up to your apartment, you turn back around to say goodnight.

His hands press into your hips, curling into the fabric of your dress as he walks you back — your breath hitches in your throat — a soft sound is knocked from you as your back hits into the red brick of Bradshaw’s exterior.

Rooster takes a second, looking you over, searching your features for a sign of doubt before he leans forwards and presses his weight into you. You swallow softly.

He lifts one hand, curling it around your jaw, turning your chin upwards and pressing his lips against yours. It’s soft at first, tender like yours had been. Then, he presses himself harder into you, sliding his hand around to the back of your neck, pulling you harder into him.

A surprised hum slips out against Bradley’s mouth, but as he urges his tongue past your lips, the sound is followed by a delightfully contented moan.

Your hands slide up his chest, coming to rest against his ribs, almost like you’re going to push him off. You’ve got no intentions of stopping this just yet. Bradley pushes himself forwards, needing to be closer.

Bradley uses his height against you, crowding you against the wall, pressing the entire length of his body into yours and slotting his thick, denim-clad thigh between your legs. Your dress bunches up out of his way, not hindering his access in the slightest.

He squeezes your hip and slides his arm around your back, grinding himself forwards into you. You’re supposed to be shy, always so quiet. Now, you rock yourself onto his thigh, fingers curling into his t-shirt.

Lifting your leg to graze it against his thigh, your heel knocks gently into the bottom step. He presses you harder into the wall, caressing his tongue into yours. The ding of your heel against the metal step is soft enough to have not disturbed you. The loud bark that comes from upstairs following that gentle ding, though — that makes you flinch.

You pull apart, lips parted. Staring up at him, breathing heavily. Your skin burns as you realise who you’re with and what just happened — and where you are.

“Um… I should,” You breathe out, blinking at him, “I should go and let him out.”

Bradley nods his head. It’s a couple of seconds before his brain catches up and he finally lets you go, stepping back and freeing you from being trapped against the wall.

“Okay.” He nods, wetting his lips with his tongue. He thinks back to the conversation he had with Natasha. Whatever happened between you and Jett. It was probably a bad idea to—

“Do you want to come up?”

He stares at you for a second, lips quirking up at the sides. He exhales softly, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Sure.”

You aren’t even sure why you asked him, it seems like a bad idea before you’ve even said it — it seems like an even worse idea when he’s headed up the steps behind you.

“You have to stay here and let Tank sniff you or he’s going to freak out.”

Rooster nods his head. It can’t be that bad, he has learnt his lesson from last time. He waits outside whilst you go in and calm Tank down, clipping him into his leash to let him out.

Once Tank has sniffed him, you allow Rooster to wait inside while you get Tank settled. He’s waiting by the counter with his arms folded over his chest by the time you’re done. It doesn’t feel the same.

Maybe the moment has passed. You swallow softly, shifting uncomfortably as Tank settles down into his spot on the couch. Glancing across, you open your mouth to comment on how Tank is finally warming up to him. Tank growls lowly, a warning for Bradley to stay where he is.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and hums, “Maybe I should go.”

“But…” You start out softly.

He steps towards you and Tank growls again. You swallow softly and shoot a look to your dog. Bradley takes one more step towards you, and Tank is silent. The second that Bradley reaches out for you, he growls again.

This has got to be some kind of divine intervention from Natasha. He shouldn’t be here, doing this.

“Alright, Bambi — I’m going to head home. I’ll see you in the morning.” He breathes out, shaking his head softly. You open your mouth to protest. He pats your shoulder platonically and heads for the door. You close it again quickly.

You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough. This really hot guy, who you have to see every day, who just rejected you. You close your eyes for a second and sigh. You let him leave without a word.

…

A FRESH START [22]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: panic attack, trauma reaction, mentions of injuries, nonsexual nudity

Word Count: 5,935

Updates every Thursday

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: i was forced to shorten the taglist for the sake of my sanity. tumblr won't let me post with more than certain number. I think that's why I've had the hardest time with this shit. I made it a first come, first served so if your username got dropped I am so so so sorry but that's why.]

#22: LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

"i find my place in between your arms, in between your tender kisses and soft whispers of 'it will be alright', in between the warmth of your embrace, and the scent of your neck, and the fierceness of your touch, i find my place lost inside your soul." -Hearts and Empires

Din was immensely proud of your skills as a physician. However, if you didn’t get your ass out of the damn medic tent he was going to throw you over his shoulder and carry you home forcibly. More than anything, you needed rest. He wasn’t able to convince you to stop working and because the medical aid had yet to arrive no one else sided with him on these matters. Karga had the nerve to tell him to calm down. Din had nearly wrung the High Magistrate’s neck.

He watched as you flittered around the medical tent aiding those who were injured alongside Aayla. Grogu had refused to leave your side, and that didn’t seem to bother you at all. Right now, as if you weren’t exhausted and barely standing, you had a sling wrapped around your chest which held Grogu against your back. Din could see the little boy resting his head against your back while rubbing your shoulder with his small hand. The sight warmed his heart and Din would be tempted to snap a picture to save if it weren’t for the state of your being. Your scrubs were still stained with blood and you had yet to clean your own wounds. It was stressing Din out to watch you working so hard when you were still in the state you were in.

While turning to see someone else, Din noticed you wavering on your feet. That was enough. He pushed forward and pressed through the injured crowd straight to you. “Hey.” You turned to meet his gaze. “It’s time to go home. You’re barely able to stand.”

“I can’t⏤”

“Ner kar’ta.” Din said firmly.

You sighed. “Alright. Fine.” Your shoulders sagged. “I guess I am a little tired.” Din shook his head, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips. Your small smile turned sheepish and Din dreaded whatever it was you were going to say next. “I need to make sure Nima has cleared the tarmac though so the medical team can park.”

“What?”

“We need to get⏤”

Din reached his gloved hands out to cup your face. At the contact, the rest of your words fell away. He leaned forward and spoke firmly. “We’re going home. You need to rest. Somebody⏤ Anybody else can do the rest of the work here.” He let his thumb trace your cheekbone. Din wished he could feel your skin against his. “Have you managed all the emergency cases?”

“I mean, yeah, but⏤”

“Then it’s time to take care of yourself.” Din finished.

Your lips pressed together and gave him a small nod. Din let out a breath of relief. Without wasting another moment, Din slipped his hand into yours and began to drag you away before someone could distract you with a new job. Just having your hand in his was a comfort he couldn’t even begin to describe. During his travels, he imagined what his reunion with you would look like often. Never did he imagine karking pirates would be involved, but this feeling in his chest he had anticipated. He knew being back by your side would feel like coming home. In fact, he may have underestimated how strongly the reunion would make him feel⏤ which was quite the feat considering how badly he craved it.

Din stepped into the shared home and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“Frog. Frog.” Grogu chirped. He turned in time to see you untangling the boy from the sling to set on the ground. Grogu bounded further into the room probably to look for his stuffed toy.

Din focused back on you and his heart ached at the exhaustion painted on your face. Not wasting another moment, Din ripped off his gloves, tossing them aside, and reached out to cup your face. You let out a shuddering breath when his skin came in contact with his and Din felt that last tinge of stress leave his body. You were safe. It felt more real like this.

“Are you still allowed to take this off to kiss me?” You asked. Din couldn’t tell if your quiet voice came from a meekness or just the weariness of your last 24 hours.

“Yes.” Din chuckled. “We just need to be more careful.”

Technically speaking, it would be best if he didn’t take his helmet off anymore. Having you close your eyes was not the most ideal of plans. Accidents could happen, and more than anything it was just a loophole in his Creed. However, Din would give up vital organs before he gave up the gift and honor that was kissing you.

You closed your eyes and Din lifted one of his hands so he could lightly trace your bruised and dirty features. He hummed, “You’re injured and tired. We should take care of that first.”

“Literally nothing is more important to me right now than this.” You replied.

Din hardly needed further convincing. Removing his hands from your face had been painful⏤ even knowing that it was only for a moment so he could take his helmet off. Without the barrier between you and him, your injuries looked worse. The dark coloring of the bruising and the red of the blood was so much more prominent. Din could see bags under your eyes he hadn’t noticed before. With a quiet sigh, Din cupped your face once more.

“Ni ceta.” Din mumbled soft apologies. He leaned in to press his lips first against your left eyelid then your right. He continued to pepper soft kisses across your cheek until they found your lips. Din would be a liar if he said he hadn’t spent every single night while gone imagining what your lips would feel like on his return. And, just as with the reunion, his mental image did not do the moment justice. Din had pictured passion and heat, a battle between one another to devour the other first, but this kiss was not that.

This kiss was soft, tender, and patient.

Three things that Din never got to call his own, living a life of battle in armor of Beskar.

Your lower lip was slotted between both of his and as he gave it a gentle tug you released a shaky sigh. The sound struck him like a hot iron and Din couldn’t help but breathe you in. He pulled you closer so your body was flush with his, let the tip of his tongue trace the shape of your lip, as he deepened the kiss. Din allowed desperation to seep into his very touch. It couldn’t be helped. Din was desperate. He was desperate to feel your very alive heartbeat under his touch. He was desperate for the warmth you exuded. He was desperate to show you how thankful he was for your safety. He was desperate for you to know how proud he was of you. He was desperate for you to know how sorry he was for not being here.

Din was desperate, and it was all for you.

“Ni ceta, ner kar’ta.” Din spoke directly against your lips. Nothing short of the Maker would tear him away from you. Your own hands lifted and when he felt your fingers rake against his scalp, tug on his hair, Din’s repeated apology fell out in a groan. Din dragged his lips along your jawline, taking the time to leave a kiss on every inch. Eventually, his lips found your neck and he left kisses over the darkened bruise there. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” You replied in a hoarse whimper.

Din disagreed entirely. He should’ve been here. He never should have left your side. You flinched when his lips touched a spot more tender than the rest. It was barely noticeable. In fact, he wouldn’t have realized you flinched at all if it wasn’t for your body being pressed so tightly to his. It was enough to remind him that you still needed care and rest. Din pressed one last kiss against your lips⏤ innocent and loving. When he pulled back you let out a whine of complaints. Din reached down to grasp his helmet and pulled it back on.

He leaned forward to rest the beskar against your forehead and at the touch your eyes opened once more. More than anything, Din wanted to see the color of your eyes unhindered by his visor. Even with the helmet on he found your eyes mesmerizing but the visor always muted colors. It seemed fitting if he thought about it. Even with the loophole of taking his helmet off, with your eyes closed a part of you stayed hidden to him. Just as he was hidden to you.

“Let me take a look at your wounds.”

“No.” You said and Din furrowed his brow. As if reading his displeasure at the response, you shook your head and clarified. “I meant, not now. I want to take a shower first. I need to.”

Din found it hard to argue against that. You wouldn’t be able to fully relax until the day was washed from your skin. He nodded and walked you further into the house. He kept one hand on your lower back, and Din loved that you kept pace with him. It wasn’t as if you didn’t know where the bathroom was, but the action made it feel like you were just as desperate as he was to stay in the other’s presence.

Grogu waddled out of the hall, dragging his stuffed frog behind him, just as the two of them reached the mouth of the hallway. He held his hands up, chirping out a request to be held, and Din knelt down to scoop the boy up before you could. Grogu blew a raspberry at him. “No buir. Need Ma.”

“I know, ad’ika.” Din replied. “But Ma has to take a shower.”

Grogu grumbled in protest, but when you reached out to lovingly pet the boy’s head Grogu was marginally appeased. As you drifted to the bathroom, Din gathered a fresh towel for you and he also grabbed one of his shirts for you to change into. A decision made solely to relieve the itch in his brain that needed to see you safe in his bed wearing his clothes, but you accepted both items with a tired smile.

When the door shut and he heard the water kick on, Din blew out a breath of relief. He glanced down at Grogu who was still staring at the bathroom door. “It’s good to be home, isn’t it ad’ika?”

“Home with Ma.” Grogu nodded in agreement.

“Right.” Din chuckled. “We’re home with Ma.”

The hot water pelted your back and left your skin radiating heat. You had washed your hair, begun to wash your body, but midway through you dropped the bottle of soap. As you knelt down to pick it up, you suddenly had a flash of kneeling beside Wynn’s dead body. It sucked the air straight from your lungs and knocked you to your ass. Now you sat under the unrelenting stream of water with your legs curled up to your chest⏤ gasping in distress. Any air you did manage to fill your lungs with was uncomfortable and brought no relief. It felt like you were suffocating.

A choked sob left your lips as you buried your face in your arms as they rested atop your knees. No matter how much you tried to turn your tired mind off, it continued to ruminate on the decisions you made. If you hadn’t forced Wynn to leave, would she still be alive? She wanted to wait for help. You felt trapped in this memory. A loop of telling Wynn she needed to run followed by watching the life leave her eyes right in front of you. You could still feel the warmth of her hot blood while holding her wound⏤ still feel the snapping of her ribs during the course of your desperate CPR. All useless. You didn’t save her. You sent her to her death.

The sensation of having a towel thrown over your shoulders was startling. Your head snapped up to see Din knelt beside you. The shower head was off, Din’s gray pajama shirt plastered to his body on the side from water, and just behind him you could see the bathroom door hanging off it’s hinges.

“Ner kar’ta.” Din’s voice was rough. “Please talk to me.”

“Din?” You gasped. He had the large towel wrapped entirely around your body covering every inch of you. “What⏤ I don’t understand⏤”

“I heard something fall. I called out for you, over and over, but you didn’t respond.” Din replied. His voice took a sheepish tone. “I⏤I broke through the door.” He let his arms run over the towel covering your arms, giving them a squeeze. “Found you like this. Even when I turned the water off you still didn’t…”

It was the sight of your reflection in his visor and helmet that seemed to push you over your edge. Tears welled in your eyes and once the first ragged sob left your lips it was followed quickly by a string of others. Despite the fact that you were sitting on a tiled floor soaked with puddles, Din sat down right beside you and cautiously pulled you into his arms. You tucked yourself against his chest, and he fully enveloped you with his arms while resting his head on top of yours.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” Din murmured. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. Your sobs only interrupted by the sound of your lungs gasping for air. Din tightened his arms around you, a feat you didn’t know was possible, and you found comfort in his solid form. Din was here. Din made everything better. You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, but eventually Din mumbled softly, “We need to get you dressed. You’ll be cold soon.” You didn’t tell him that you’d never feel cold in his hold. “Need to treat your wounds too.”

Din helped you stand. He cautiously led you out of the shower, arm around your torso, and he stopped you in front of the bathroom counter. “I’m going to get the first aid kit from the kitchen. Are you going to be alright?”

You nodded. Din paused, as if hesitant, before returning the nod and moving toward the door. He mumbled a curse under his breath, you could hear it, and then he grabbed the large chunks of the door that had broken off when he rammed it to set aside where nobody would trip over them. While he was out, you grabbed his shirt and tugged it on⏤ using the damp towel to try and pat dry the dripping ends of your hair. Din returned, his visor scanning your body, before he settled beside you again.

With a focused intensity, Din applied a bit of bacta to the wound at your hairline and then rubbed some of it into the bruise around your neck as well. In the midst of his work, you whispered, “Wynn is dead.” Din’s fingers paused in their motion, surprise reading in his frame, but he was quick to return his movements and stance back to baseline. “She’s dead and I didn’t tell anybody. I forgot to tell someone.” Tears returned to your eyes. “I just left her in the street, Din. I left her like she meant nothing.”

“Hey.” Din said firmly. “This was during the firefight, was it not?” You nodded in confirmation. “You had no choice, ner kar’ta. That wasn’t your fault.”

“I think it was.” Your words fell out a pained whisper.

Din’s hands lifted to cradle your face and you leaned into his touch. It felt like he wanted to say something, but he paused. Instead, Din tangled his hand with yours and pulled you out of the bathroom. He didn’t ask, didn’t even hesitate, to pull you into his room. The moment you entered you heard Grogu’s familiar snores and it was such a comforting sound to hear after weeks sleeping in silence that you nearly cried. Din pulled back the covers and helped you slide in.

Rather than follow you into bed, he took a step back and the look on your face must have been obvious enough that he reached out to caress your face. “I’m coming back. I need to change clothes.”

Your eyes focused on the large wet stains from where you had been curled up into him. Din crossed the room and your eyes widened and bit when he began to pull his shirt off. His movements were confident and it warmed your heart that he was comfortable enough with you to reveal himself like this. Your eyes trailed over the expanse of his muscular back⏤ admiring the rugged lines of his broad shoulders and the various scars that littered his skin. Din pulled a new shirt on and you expected him to come back. Instead, Din began to pull off his sweatpants. Slowly, you sat up, pulling the sheets closer to you, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trace the shape of his lower half. You were blatantly ogling this man in his boxer briefs as he tugged on a new pair of sweats. Before turning back around, you saw him pick up his vambrace, pressing a few buttons, before setting it down once more.

Din turned around, tying the strings at his waistband, and he chuckled. His voice came out as teasing and light hearted. Clearly trying to put you at ease. “Are you checking me out, ner kar’ta?”

“I missed you so much.” You replied. Too tired, physically and emotionally, to tease back the way that you wanted to. Instead, the truth tumbled out of your lips.

He came back around to the bed and slipped under the sheets. As Din’s arm wrapped around your waist, you let him pull you back into laying down. You shifted so your head rested on his chest and Din began to drag his knuckles up and down your spine. “I missed you too. Being away from you was unbearable for Grogu and I both.” Din hummed. “He tried to stay up for you, but passed out. Grogu didn’t sleep well last night. I think my anxiety kept him up.” Your hand was resting on his side⏤ fingers dragging up and down his ribs. You mumbled into his chest. Din’s hand, the one rubbing your back, trailed up to rake through your hair. “I want to talk.”

“About?” You mumbled.

“Ner kar’ta.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Din…”

“You don’t have to talk to me, you don’t have to tell me anything, but…” Din sighed, “I’d like to know. I want to help.” He massaged the back of your neck right where it met your skull and all your tension sat. A soft sigh left your body as you relaxed in his arms. “I sent Karga a message about Wynn. They’re going to find her. Put her to rest.” You buried your face down into his chest knowing your tears would dampen his new shirt all over again. “I just want to help.”

After a few moments of peaceful silence where you listened to Grogu’s snores and Din’s heartbeat, you turned so your face wasn’t pressed into his chest and you could speak. Hesitantly, you began to tell him what happened⏤ starting with the bombs that fell on Nevarro and ending with Paz leading you out of the burning city as you carried Elodie. The entire time Din didn’t speak. He’d mumble an acknowledgement or hum here and there, but he made no comment.

When you finished, Din finally spoke up, “Tell me why you said what you did. You said what happened to Wynn was your fault.”

“She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay hidden and wait for help.” You closed your eyes tightly as the memory of Wynn’s lifeless eyes assaulted you once more. “If I had listened to her she might be alive. Help did come. I⏤I should have been more patient.”

“Ner kar’ta, you made that decision based on the limited information you had. You didn’t know I was coming and bringing help. Where the three of you were hidden wasn’t safe. If one of the pirates did discover you, you’d be pinned down in a hole.” Din spoke with a firmness that left no room for argument. “In that moment, you made the best decision you could. You made the right decision.” He used the arm not around you to grasp your chin and tilt your head up so you were facing his visor. “Listen to me, ner kar’ta. That was not your fault. You did not take Wynn’s life, she gave it to save Elodie. Wynn is a hero. Don’t take that from her by shouldering needless blame.”

There was something about the way Din spoke that resonated with you. His words calmed the turmoil in your soul. Din could repeat the same sentiment that anyone else would speak, but when it came from his lips it soothed your wounds like a salve. He couldn’t heal everything, there was self reflection only you could puzzle through, but he was a hand to hold as you waded through the worst of it.

“Din…” You started. Before you finished your sentence, it occurred to you that the words you wanted to say were significant. You wanted to tell Din you loved him. That’s what you felt right now. It was overwhelming. It was all encompassing.

Din still had his hand at your chin and he let his large hand shift from your chin to your jaw. He held the side of your face and let his thumb trace patterns in your skin. “Yes, ner kar’ta?”

Saying those words felt like quite the leap. You were confident in the way you felt about him and how he felt about you, but there was a part of you that couldn’t quite push the words out. You were too mentally wiped out to process those thoughts right now. Not knowing how else to express how grateful you were for this man, you turned your face so you could press a kiss to the palm of his hand.

Din let out a content sigh and he shifted his body so you could rest more comfortably against him. He hummed and you heard the rumble of it in his chest. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He went back to soothingly dragging his fingers up and down your spine. “I’ll always be here.”

You let your eyes close and took a slow breath as Din’s warmth and the comforting smell of him lulled you into the best sleep you’ve gotten since Din and Grogu left.

Nevarro was in pieces. Rubble decorated the streets and buildings were in shambles. Despite how terrible it looked, Din couldn’t help but be proud of the citizens of the city he looked after. They were strong. Nevarro was already healing only days after the attack. Din walked down the street with Grogu in his arms. The boy was squirming, wanting to get down, but with the rubble and debris Din didn’t want him wandering around. As he walked down the street, every once in a while a person would pause to thank him for bringing help⏤ bringing the Mandalorians. Din would nod in response, but it would shoot a pang of guilt through his chest. He didn’t deserve thanks. He had left them after all.

Din’s steps slowed as he began to pass the school house. Outside of the building, a memorial had been set up for Wynn. Candles, flowers, and cards covered the front steps and Din found himself letting out a sigh. The school teacher was a hero. Din meant that seriously when he spoke to you. It hadn’t been your fault, absolutely not, and both you and Wynn were the reason Elodie was alive and well. Her and her parents were currently off world. The little girl needed more intensive care than could be provided here, but last Din heard the child was doing very well.

“Miss?” Grogu mumbled. Din recognized the title Grogu would call his teacher.

“Yes, ad’ika.” Din confirmed. Grogu’s ears wilted as he stared at the memorial. Din rubbed Grogu’s back and began to walk again with the goal to reach the clinic. You had left home early to go to work. You’d be there for any emergencies, per the norm, but you were also using today to see many of the people who were injured the day of for follow up. To ensure everyone was healing as they should. Din was of the opinion that you needed more rest, if not physical then mental, but trying to convince you of that was a near impossibility.

When Din reached the corner, Bo Katan pushed off a wall to join his pace. Her helmet was tucked under her arm. The Armorer had announced that the Mandalorians needed to come together rather than fall apart. It was a sentiment he could understand. Mayfeld had asked him about the helmet situation. Mandalorians coming together was a good idea, Din agreed, but coming to coincide with one another didn’t change the Creed he had dedicated himself to.

“Once this place gets cleaned up, I can see it being a nice place to live. To settle.” Bo hummed. Din nodded once, and she glanced his way. “I’m glad your partner is safe.”

“Thank you.” Din replied sincerely.

“There is something I’d like to speak to you about.”

“I figured.” He said. “Does this have anything to do with retaking Mandalore?”

Bo chuckled, “Good guess.”

“What about it?”

“Well,” Bo kept by his side, “Is there anything I can say that will convince you to come with me to reclaim my fleet from Axe Woves?”

Din didn’t pause even a beat when he answered. “No. There isn’t.”

Bo sighed in annoyance and Din briefly felt guilt at the waves of frustration wafting off of Bo’s tense frame. Half of him felt like it was his duty to help in any way to restore Mandalore, but the other half could not even begin to fathom leaving you again. It occurred to Din that this might be selfish of him. His people needed him, right? He locked his jaw at the thought.

“Your help would make this all go smoother, I think. We make a good team.” Bo said.

Din chuckled, “Did that hurt you to admit?”

“It did.” Bo smirked. “Which is why you should take it seriously.”

Din paused when the clinic came into view. He turned to face Bo and shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to help. Retaking Mandalore is a noble endeavor. One I would be honored to help in.” He paused. “But my family is here. I got lucky during that attack. I... I almost lost her.”

“I understand that.” Bo replied. “I know the weight of what I’m asking you, Djarin. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”

Din glanced back to the clinic and did a double take when he saw you coming out. A smile began to form on his features, but it fell when he watched Paz walk out behind her with Ragnar by his side. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You were wearing your white coat, a look Din truly loved on you, and Paz was chatting with you about something. Something that made you laugh in response. Since when was Paz funny?

“Didn’t know you were the jealous kind, Djarin.” Bo chuckled.

Din snapped a glare at her. “I’m not jealous.”

“It’s all over your face.”

“I’m wearing a helmet.”

“Yet somehow I still know it is.”

Din grunted in mild annoyance. He wasn’t jealous. Per say. It was just like with Vanth. Din was confident enough in his relationship with you, even as undefined as it currently was, that he wasn’t worried about someone sweeping you away. Din just had a bad habit of accidentally letting his possessive nature show and there was something about seeing his brother flirt with you that stirred him into wanting to fight.

Both you and Paz glanced down at Ragnar who must have been speaking and you set a hand on the boy’s shoulder with a smile.

“Hm. They’d make a cute family.” Bo teased.

“Stop.” Din snapped.

He was caught off guard when Grogu jumped out of his arms. Him and Bo quickly followed after the boy who was in a mad rush toward you. Din watched as his son shoved past Ragnar, making the boy stumble enough that Din had a feeling the Force was involved, before leaping into your arms.

“Oh, hey, baby.” You cooed.

“Ma. My Ma.” Grogu cuddled into your arms while shooting Ragnar a glare.

Bo glanced at Din. “Aw. Like father, like son.”

Din wished he could take his helmet off just so Bo could see the full weight of the glare he currently wore. He continued forward until your eyes shot to him and the bright smile that filled your features just from spotting him.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked.

“Just checking in on you.” Din replied. Bo cleared her throat and Din sighed before nodding his head toward the woman standing beside him. “This is Bo Katan Kryze. Bo, this is Soran.”

You held your hand out to shake Bo’s hand and the red headed woman returned the greeting. Paz let one of his large hands settle on your shoulder and Din felt himself bristle at the motion. His older brother chuckled. “No need to worry. Wero’ika is doing more than fine.”

“Yeah, Paz brought me a late breakfast.” You chirped.

Yeah, okay, Din was going to murder him.

“Oh, hang on,” You glanced over your shoulder, “I see a problem patient walking in. I’m not gonna subject Aayla to that.”

Din nodded once and you shot Bo and Paz a smile, squeezing Ragnar’s shoulder as well despite Grogu’s complaints, and then you turned to leave. As soon as you were inside the clinic, Din turned to Paz with a grunt. “Wero’ika? What the kriff is that?”

“A nickname, Djarin.”

“Mir’sheb.” Din snarled and Paz laughed in response. Ragnar tugged on his father’s arm before pointing off to the side. Paz nodded, telling him to be cautious, before the boy ran off to play with a group of kids down the street.

Bo chuckled. “I didn’t realize this was the beginning of a love triangle. Interesting.”

“It isn’t.” Din said.

Paz tilted his head and crossed his arms. “I’m unaware of Soran being in possession of a token of intention.”

“I’m working on it.” Din said through clenched teeth.

“Perhaps, I’ll work on it faster.”

Din knew Paz was just trying to get under his skin. Part of his frustration was the fact that it was working. His hands drifted to rest on his hips as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Paz was smug. Din had known him long enough to recognize the set of his shoulders.

“I’m⏤” Din began then cleared his throat. “I’m giving her time.”

“You’re wasting her time.” Paz argued with a chuckle. “Wero’ika⏤”

“Don’t call her that like you know her.” Din cut in. “A lot just happened. I’m not going to rush her into anything.”

He glanced from Paz to Bo then back to Paz. Din gave the man a gruff good-bye before pushing past the two of them to head into the clinic. He greeted Miriam at the front desk. Before he could cross the threshold into the main room, the young woman caught his attention and let him know that you were down the hall instead. Din furrowed his brow in confusion, but walked down to find you sitting in the break room snipping the sutures off a patient’s wound.

“Marshal.” The patient greeted with a nod that Din returned.

Grogu was playing with a latex glove on the counter while you worked. You shot him a smile before focusing back on your work. Din settled beside his son, leaning against the counter, and just admired you with a sense of calm. He wondered if Paz was right. Not a line he’d ever say out loud, but Din wondered if he was just finding another excuse to hide behind. He wasn’t sure what he was so afraid of. You’ve made your interest in him very clear, the two of you shared a bond like he’d never experienced before, but still he hesitated.

“Alright, it looks good. No need to restrict yourself, but if it starts bothering you again just let me know.” You smiled. The patient thanked you, gave him a final good-bye, then left. You wandered over to where he stood with Grogu and began to wash your hands in the sink. “Hey, so your brother seems cool.”

Din grunted. “Who Paz?”

“Yeah.” You turned the faucet off and grabbed a few paper towels. “I thought he might not like me because I yelled at him during the battle.” Din’s eyes widened. He’d have to ask about that. “But instead I think I accidentally earned his respect? Also, what does ‘wero’ika’ mean?”

Din chuckled. “Little Problem.”

Your jaw fell open. “He’s been calling me a little problem this entire time?” Din nodded. “Son of a bitch. I’m gonna need you to teach me something amusing and mildly rude to call him in return.”

“Oh, I can think of some names for him.” Din replied. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something, but don’t feel any pressure with this, alright?” You quirked an eyebrow at him. Your eyes briefly glanced at Grogu and you shot your hand out to snatch the latex glove from Grogu’s mouth and wagged a finger at him. “I left to redeem myself. To restore my Creed with the plans to…” Din shifted awkwardly. “To court you.” The corner of your lips curled up. “I know a lot has happened recently, so again there is no pressure here, but I wanted to…make my intentions known.”

You reached out and wrapped your hand above his elbow, between his armor plates, and gave it a small squeeze. “Din, I appreciate your patience and concern, but I⏤ I want this. I want you.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “So, just tell me how we do this. How does Mandalorian courting work? Do I sign on the dotted line or…?”

Din laughed, in part due to relief, “No. Nothing like that. I have…” He reached to the back of his belt to unhook the blade and sheath that was once his. Din brought it around to hold out to you and you stared at the blade curiously. “In Mandalorian custom, a token of intention is given to the person being courted and to accept it means accepting those advances.” Din cleared his throat again. Maker, his mouth was dry. “Tokens are usually a weapon with the person’s signet on it.”

He pulled the blade out of the sheath enough that you were able to see the mudhorn etched into the blade’s side. Din tucked the blade back into the sheath and gave you a small nod. With a bright smile, you took the blade from his hands and he felt like his heart was going to explode in his chest watching you run your finger against the mudhorn.

You held the blade against your chest and nodded. “I accept, Mandalorian.”

Grogu began to clap his hands together and you broke out into laughter that relaxed every single bone and muscle in his body. The only regret Din had was not doing this at home where he could pull his helmet off and kiss you.

mando'a translations:

ni ceta: sorry wero'ika: little problem ner kar'ta: my heart mir'sheb: smartass

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