Best Shot - Part 3

Best Shot - Part 3

Warnings: severe injury to reader, lots of angst, mentions of sexuality (no smut), swearing, violence

Word Count: 2456

Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 (finale)

2 weeks. It had been 2 weeks since you had left Jay’s apartment and crashed at Connor’s. Things at the station hadn’t been the same with you and Jay at odds. You still kept things civil, but every time you both left from work, Halstead would give you a piece of his mind. Why you shouldn’t be staying with Connor. Why you should just come back home. He would almost have you convinced, but you knew him too well. Jay would always hold something back and you could tell. What you mistook as his arrogance against apologizing was him holding back from saying those three little words. Nevertheless, you still would part ways with him and spend most of your nights with Conner.  

You rummaged through your small duffel bag you had packed from your and Jay’s apartment, trying to find anything that didn’t have bullet holes or were permanently stained. After these past weeks, you were left with only one outfit left.

“(Y/N), I know this is tough, but you gotta make a decision.” you hear Connor say as he leans against the doorway to the living room. 

Looking over to him, you see one of his minimalistic mugs in hand, filled with a steaming liquid. In only sweatpants from your last...session, he looked like a perfectly handsome mess. Connor Rhodes was the perfect guy. Good job, smart, sarcastic, sweet, caring, unbelievably good looking. But deep down you knew he was too perfect. You wanted your fucked up boy from the army who would lay his life on the line for you in a heartbeat. The guy who made mistakes with you but would always return to make things right. You wanted Jay Halstead. 

“Think you can spare some room for me here?” you ask with a half hearted smile.

“I always will. But both you and I know this won’t last because you took the easy way out. You’re always going to want-”

“Him...” you whisper as your hand graces over one of Jay’s shirts that had found its way into your bag. 

Gently, you pick up the worn out garment and run your fingers along the collar. Even without pressing your face to it, you knew it would smell like him. Smell like home. 

“Need a ride?” Connor asks softly. 

Shaking your head, you quickly pack up and grab your keys. Before leaving Connor’s apartment, you turn to him with a sad smile. 

“I’m sorry, I know this probably didn’t turn out like you wanted it too.”

“No hard feelings, this was temporary. And it was lots of fun. But you both deserve to be happy.” he replies with a smile.

You smile too and nod before leaving and going to your car. After throwing your duffel in the back and yourself into the driver’s seat, you were on your way home. 

Parking in the same spot as you always did, you turn and pull the keys from the ignition as your eyes scan over the building. The living room light was still on, a small flickering every now and then telling you that Jay was probably watching the Hawks game. 

You step out with a deep breath, bag in hand, your exhale crystallizing into fog from Chicago’s chilly winter weather. Walking towards the door, you unlock it with the keys you have and walk in, dropping your duffel by the door. 

“Will, I’m not in the mood.” you hear Jay say from your living room. 

Softly walking in, you see the small collection of beers that hadn’t taken Jay’s edge off strewn around him. The dark circles you had seen develop over the past weeks looked so much darker now. Tears filled your eyes at the realization that he was right, you were letting your extra feelings get in the way of what matters. Your friendship.

“It’s not Will, Jay,” you say. 

Jay quickly twists from his lounging position to see you. It’s like he couldn’t stand up fast enough as he rushes towards you, pulling you into a tight hug. Gently, you wrap your arms around him in a friendly way, holding him close to you. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” you hear him mumble.

“Enough of that, I’m home now.” 

He pulls away just a touch, your faces proximity making your cheeks light up like red bulbs from Christmas lights. For a moment, you wish that he take that one step forwards. That his lips dance with yours when danger isn’t looming. But your wishes are futile as he takes more steps away from you.

“I’ll get you a beer,” he says as he backs away more, clearing up all the empty beer bottles before disappearing into the kitchen. 

You only nod before plopping yourself on the end of the couch you claimed as yours. Soon enough, Jay returned with two beer bottles, sitting on his end of the couch while tossing a blanket over to you. You take both gratefully, sipping your beer while curling up into the soft material.

Two beers turned into twenty, giving both of you a slight buzz. The Hawks game had changed to Brooklyn Nine Nine. The space between you and Jay had shrunk as you cuddled together on the couch peacefully. Your tipsy laughter fills the apartment, contrasting the blue light from the TV with warmth. 

Your soft whine when the show switches from the cop comedy to Seinfeld only makes Jay laugh more. You smack his chest playfully, quickly sitting up to meet his face. 

“How dare you giggle at my misery. Halstead,” 

“Oh whatever, stupid, it was cute and I’m allowed,” he replies with a smirk.

“Oh, so I’m stupid then cute?”

“Will you shut up so we can watch the show?” 

“Make me.”

You will never regret saying those two words.

In a blur, Jay snatches your hips and pulls you onto his lap. The distance between you two closed as he leans up and captures your lips with his. Shocked, you gasp but quickly return the kiss, your hand working their way from his chest to his face. 

His hands somehow find their way under your shirt, on your lower back, pulling you closer into his chest. Working your hands away from his head, you tug at the collar of his shirt from behind his neck. 

Another blur and Jay is standing with you in his arms before disappearing into his room with you.

-~- 

The bright light streaming in from Jay’s windows pierces your brain, making you groan slightly from the mild hangover you had...again.

But my were you glad you were. 

As soon as you tried to slip out of bed to get some aspirin, two strong arms pulled you closer into a chest. Turning around, you see Jay half asleep with a goofy smile on his face. A sense of relief flooded over you, he remembered the night before. And he didn’t seem to regret it either.

“You gotta let me go, lover boy,” you mumble as you run a hand through his messy hair. 

“Nooo,” he whines, puling you even tighter to him causing you to giggle.

“We are gonna be late and Voight will be pissed,” 

“God, fine, but you owe me when we get home,”

He reluctantly releases you into the cold air of the apartment. With ease, you steal his shirt laid on the floor and slip it over your naked self. Looking behind you, you catch a glimpse of him getting out of bed. Memories of the night before flooded your mind, making you bite your lip and a blush to spread across your face. 

“Can I help you?” he asks while slipping on a pair of sweatpants, a tired smirk on on his face.

“Hmm, maybe when we get home.” you say with a wink before walking out of the room.

-~-

A couple of months later and both of you still have a jump in your step walking into work. The squad originally thought it was because you had finally gone home to Jay. But when your giddiness hadn’t died down over the weeks, bets were quickly placed. 

Sitting at your desk, you take a sip of coffee and begin to fill out paperwork on your laptop. From across the room, you could feel Halstead’s eyes on you. Subtly looking over at him, you see his eyes on the hickey forming on your neck just below your jaw. With a smirk, you tuck your hair out of the way, putting the bruise on full display. You watch as Jay’s bottom lip gets tucked beneath his teeth and you send a soft wink his way. 

Just in time, you look away to see Voight rushing downstairs, armed in tactical gear.

“We’ve got a hostage situation at Bleeker Street Bank. All of Intelligence needs to be there, this seems to link back to our case against Diaz,” Voight quickly says to the squad.

Jumping out of your seat, you rush to the locker room and quickly suit up. Walking out with your gun case, you hear Voight assign you and Halstead on the opposing roof as snipers. With a nod, you both rush out to his beast of a truck.

The entire ride there, he kept a gentle hand on your thigh but you could tell he was on edge. You both hated when the other had to go into a highly dangerous situation, but it was part of your job. As he parks, you quickly lay your hand on his cheek and turn his face towards you. Gently, you lay a quick but deep kiss on his lips. Once he pulls away, his eyebrow shoots up and smirk appears on his face. 

“What was that for?”

“To get you to calm down,”

You smirk and get out, grabbing your gun case from the back and making your way up to the roof of the opposing building. Once you’re stationed, you quickly set up the gun and aim the scope at the open window. You have a clear view of the hostages in the room but no sign of the offender.

“You got eyes on the offender?” you ask Jay, not moving from your spot.

No response.

“Jay?” 

Suddenly, you feel a blade against your throat, making you tense up but your hands refuse to move from your gun.

“Come on, pretty girl. You and your friend are gonna pay for what you did to Diaz.” 

Gripping tightly onto your gun, you snap your head back, hitting your captor in the crotch with your head. He stumbles back, but not without his blade cutting your neck a bit. Gritting your teeth through the pain, you use both hands to hit your offender in the face with your heavy rifle. Quickly, he flies to the ground, unconscious from the hit. 

That’s when you hear the click of another gun, most likely aimed at you.

Slowly, you turn your head to see another guy with a gun in hand. This time, it wasn’t aimed at you. It was aimed towards Jay’s head as he held him a death grip.

“Let him go...” you growl.

“Nuh - uh, sweet heart. You and your friend are coming with us. Drop the rifle.”

Quickly, you let go, the clatter of the powerful gun making the man in front of you relax a bit.

“He had nothing to do with this,” you reply, raising one hand and slowly moving your other that was concealed from him towards your back where your pistol lay. 

“He was an accomplice, got Quentin into the spot where you needed to shoot. So nah, he’s coming with us.”

Jay’s eyes widen at the sight of your hand gripping tightly onto your gun before you whip it out, aiming it at the additional captor. At the same time, the gruff looking man moves his aim away from Jay and towards you. Jay desperately tries to break the man’s hold on him before it’s too late.

“I said let him go!” you yell, your anger increasing at the situation.

“Move one more step and I’ll shoot!” he replies.

“Go ahead, because you can bet your ass I won’t miss!” 

The tip of your gun is aimed directly at his head and you take a sharp inhale as your finger moves to the trigger. 

“Drop him!” you yell again.

“Put the gun down!” 

Exhale and shoot. 

But more then one gun goes off at the same time. Adrenaline runs through your veins like a mustang as you watch the guy drop dead beside an unharmed Jay.

“Told you I don’t miss,” you say as you shakily lower your pistol. Wait, why were you shaking?

Looking down, you see blood pooling on the white shirt underneath your bullet proof vest. He’d gotten you right below the ribs, right where your body was exposed from the vest when you had your arms up.

“(Y/N)!” Jay yells as he rushes over to you. 

Blood pours through the shirt as you drop your gun, applying pressure to the wound as the metallic liquid pours through your fingers like water. The amount of blood you were losing and how fast it was pouring out makes your legs weak. Too weak, as they collapse under you, your body hitting the gravel roof as everything blurs. 

“This is Jay Halstead, officer down! We need paramedics on the roof of the north building immediately!” 

“C’mon, baby, you can’t leave me now.” Jay’s voice echoes in your head.

His hands are over yours as he helps keep pressure on the wound. You simply smile through the pain, moving one bloodied hand from underneath his and laying it on top of the pile. 

“I love you,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as your eyelids get too heavy to hold open.

- Jay’s POV - 

“(Y/N)?” I ask shakily, tears flooding my eyes in a faster pace then before. When she doesn’t answer, it’s like a punch to the gut over and over.

“(Y/N), stay with me! Wake up, baby, please!”

I push harder on her wound as her body begins to go limp. Paramedics arrive, bracing her and carrying her into the ambulance as I follow close behind. Both of us ride in the back of the ambo as it races to Med. Paramedics work around me as I hold onto her hand with both of my mine, tears breaking up the blood stained on my face. 

As they race her into the ED, I see Rhodes eyes widen at who his next trauma patient was before quickly getting to work. She disappears into the ED as Will races out and towards me. All I can seem to do is sit against the tail end of the ambo, staring off into space. 

“Jay, man, what happened? Are you hurt?” Will asks.

“I never got to tell her I love her back.” 

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nocturnalherb16  weepingfestivalmentality  ikleesfiction  annaallicce  panaitbeatrice  shipshipshipau

Best Shot - Prologue

Summary: After Jay Halstead left the Rangers and joined Chicago PD, he met you, the famed (Y/N). You’re the only one who has a better shot then Halstead, something that sparked a small competition. Competition lead to post work hangouts and eventually, being assigned as partners by Voight soon after for your work ethic. Your friendship evolved into roommates and hockey buddies. The so called best friend you had found in the Halstead quickly changed, just in time to watch him sweep Erin Lindsay off her feet. Heartbroken, you buried your feelings deep inside you. 

Now with Erin out of the picture,and your healing best friend in close quarters, can your best shot make it to a happily ever after?

Warnings: Mild to severe blood and gore, language, some suggestive scenes but no smut

Pairings: Jay Halstead x fem!Reader, small Connor Rhodes x fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 (finale)

-~-

“Oh come on! I can shoot better then that!, Halstead!”

“Prove it then, (Y/L/N)! Close your eyes and only shoot when I tell you too.” 

With a smirk on your face, you reload your gun and aim it at the ground. As you look at your best friend, a mischevious grin is pointed towards you, only feeding the flame. You stick your tongue out before looking at the new target being loaded, feeling your eyes flutter close. 

Breathe in.

Your finger slowly slips into it’s place in front of the trigger, adding just the tiniest amount fo pressure. 

“Now!” 

Opening your eyes and lifting your arms at the same time, you exhale, aim, and fire. As you lower your gun, you’re met with the results you had expected. A direct hit to the head of the target. Turning to Jay, you grin and lay the gun down.

“Better luck next time,” you say, mimicking his michevious grin he once had. 

Before he can fire back, both of your phones go off at the same time. Pulling yours out, you find that Voight had assigned you to a case that was taking place at Med. 

“Duty calls,” Jay says to you. 

Shattered - Part 2

Summary: A Jedi and a Mandalorian. Impossible right? Not for Satine and Obi - Wan. Hell, he even said he would leave the Jedi Order for her. But you wished it was you... 

A/N - I have only watched a few episodes of Clone Wars so I am not overall familar with Satine and Obi - Wan’s romance. I just thought it would be a spicy fanfiction hehe. This story is also not based on any specific Clone Wars episode, but rather an imaginary situation.

There is a reason the quote “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” is around. Despite the deep cuts left in your chest due to your shattered heart, you used the pain as fuel, a purpose. To become hardened, to never let another man into your heart like that again. You were a Mandalorian and much to Satine’s dislike, you were a warrior at heart, meant to protect others and your people. 

You repeated these words to yourself over and over during your stay on the planet. Keeping your conversations short with the Jedi while you trained by yourself. Only talking to Satine if she promised to not bring up the heartbreak. 

With every other attack that came against the Duchess, you became more accurate, more deadly. You were liking the person you were turning into, a true Mandalorian. A warrior in your armor that people feared. It felt good to no longer be the weak girl the General had left you as. 

Until today. 

You watched the ships being loaded up closely, ensuring that none of those droids could stowaway. Every time you saw one crawl into the luggage, your blaster was up by your eyes and the droid would be dead on the ground. 

This time, Obi Wan was shoving something into one of the luggage carts as you watched one crawl it’s way onto the bag. Without a second thought, you quickly shoot it off, not minding the shot’s close proximity to the Jedi’s head. 

Apparently, that was Obi Wan’s last straw, storming over to you. You let a soft sigh release, one soft enough your modulator couldn’t translate. Still gentle as ever, he grabs your arm and takes you inside, to a secluded corner away from prying arms of workers.

“What the bloody hell has gotten into you, (Y/N)?” he exclaims into a whisper.

“I’ve been doing my job,” you reply in a flat tone.

“No, you haven’t. You’ve been avoiding me, shutting out Satine, taking more risks. All you ever do is go from training by yourself to sitting in your room doing Gods knows what. It’s not healthy!” 

“It doesn’t matter...”

“Yes, it do-”

All you hear is Satine’s scream, sending your entire body into flight or fight. Pushing past Obi - Wan, you run out to the tarmac to see the place littered with dead clones and Satine in the hands of a pirate.

Quickly, you lift your gun to take out the threat, but an invisible Force pushes the tip to the ground. You look at Obi - Wan, your eyes wide underneath your mask as his hand stays subtly lifted. 

“Put the Duchess down, or you will regret it,” 

“And how would I regret it? The Duchess is worth more then the two of you combined!” the pirate laughs. 

That’s when the Force on your blaster was released. With a smirk beneath your mask, you quickly shoot the leader, sending his lackies into a blood induced rage. 

Out of the corner of your eye, Obi - Wan wordlessly takes his place behind your back, hearing the loud buzz of a lightsaber being enacted. All of them were coming at you both too fast for you to shoot. So as the first one came, you used your blaster to smack them straight across the face. 

Given the small space in time, you grab your staff from your pocket, clicking a button to expand it. Then, as each pirate came running towards you, you could easily smack them out of the way. Reaching into the slot on your armor, your pulled the blade seated there and stabbed each of them in the thigh as they landed. The bastards weren’t going to get away with this. 

Once all of the pirates were either dead or groaning on the ground, Satine runs towards you. Quickly looking away, you return your weapons to their proper place as you think she is running towards Obi - Wan. But she runs straight into your arms and without hesitation you hold your oldest friend close to you. 

“You shouldn’t have fell for the trick,” she whispers. 

“(Y/N), no!” you hear the real Satine from behind you. 

Just as the changeling uses her hidden blade to try and slit your throat, she freezes with the blade pressed slightly into your skin. The changeling fell to the ground, a lightsaber shaped hole in her chest. 

Obi - Wan looks at you with wide eyes as you breathe heavily. Without him, you most likely would have met your doom. The pure adrenaline coursing through your veins helps you to ignore the steady stream of blood pouring all over your armor from the wound on your neck. You bend and quickly grab your blaster, your eyes scanning what was left of the luggage carts for any more threats.

“Anakin, get the Duchess on board and get us out of here. I’ll take care of (Y/N),” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Anakin quickly escort your friend on board and the ship roaring to life. As your body realizes she’s safe, your knees give out under the pressure of your sight spinning. Before you fully collapse to the ground, a pair of strong arms keeps you up, throwing an arm around his shoulders and helping you onto the ship. 

Once in a secluded room, Obi - Wan quickly closes the door, your heart picking up at his presence. He quickly collects what he needs from nearby storage carts, obviously waiting for you to take your helmet off.

“Thank you for your help, but I can take care of myself,” you hoarsely say, the pain from your neck intensifying. 

“She’s safe with Anakin, you need me more,”

You sigh hard once he collects everything and sets it beside where you now sit. As he goes to take your helmet off, you quickly snatch his wrists to stop him. 

“(Y/N)...what did I do to break your trust?” Obi - Wan whispers, picking up on the subtle que. 

“You didn’t...” 

Slowly, you release his wrists, your helmet clad head pointing towards the ground as you felt the weakness you always felt around him set in. Tears spring into your eyes from the pain in your neck and the one in your chest.

“What did I do to lose you?” 

“I made you, so you would be happy,” you softly say, the pain escalating at an alarming rate. 

“But my dear, I have been quite the opposite,” 

“What are you talking about? You’re with Satine, I see how you look at her.”

“How I look at her pales in comparison to how I look at you,” 

You stay silent, trying to process his words and suppress the butterflies to threaten to tear your gut in two. The vulnerability sets in, making you tense up, making the pain even worse all over. You can’t help but a small, audible sob echo from you as it all becomes to overwhelming.

“My love,” you hear him whisper. “I’ve never been interested in Satine.” 

Slowly, you feel his hands rest against either side of your helmet. This time, you don’t stop him. You opt to keep your head tilted to the ground, the stickiness from the blood against your neck adding to the overwhelming feelings that blur your mind. You feel the metal slip away from your hair, a fresh wave of cool air hitting your face and neck as Obi - Wan slowly removes your chest plate next. He lays them like Satine does, in a certain order, always showing respect. 

“(Y/N), it’s you.”

You feel two fingers slip between your chin, lifting your face to meet his as your tears begin to slow. 

“It’s always been you,” 

He leans in without pause, you meeting him halfway through until your lips collide. 

All of the emotions pent up, the same things that had overwhelmed you moments before, were gone. Your mind was clear for the first time in months, the only thing running through your thoughts was him. The way your lips danced together, like they were somehow training together in your minds, it sent goosebumps up your spine and down your arms. 

There was something in the way his hands slipped from your face to your hips, like if he let go you would disappear again. Your seated position changes as you stand together, his frame pressed so tightly against you despite your remaining armor you could feel every muscle. As if it was engrained, your arms slip up his chest, around his neck, into his hair. Gently, you pull at the roots, not to force the kiss away, but as a silent message of longing. How much you had waited for this moment. 

Eventually, you come up for air, both of you sharing a soft pant at the tension broken between the two of you. A smile unlike any other graces your face, happiness replacing the adrenaline that was once in your veins. 

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” he whispers, his swollen lips pressing against yours softly with his words. 

“And I love you, Obi - Wan Kenobi,” you whisper in return. 

After some time, he sat you down again, cleaning and stiching up the wound on your neck. Not without a chaste kiss here and there however. As he threads the needle through the last point it was needed, a thought comes to mind.

“What about the Order?” 

A soft silence settles between you as the Jedi ponders your words. But only for a moment. 

“When Satine first caught onto my feelings, I told her I would leave the Jedi Order if you told me too,” 

As he threads and ties off the last stitch, your eyes connect again as you ponder his words now too. 

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you,”

“But then we can’t be together, (Y/N),” 

You ponder once more. 

“What they don’t know can’t kill them,” you mumble softly, running a hand through his tangled locks that still somehow remained soft. 

“You want to keep it a secret?” 

“Until you’re ready to leave, not for me, but for yourself.”

“How did I get so lucky to have a gorgeous and smart woman?” he says with a cheeky smirk.

“Shut up and kiss me already, Obi,” 

Once again, he doesn’t hesitate, your lips joining in a hungrier matrimony then before. Slowly, you lay down on the bench you had been sat upon, coaxing your Jedi to hover over you. Without his lips leaving yours for a second, he braces himself above you. Just as his lips leave yours to travel elsewhere, a jolt in the ship alerts you both to your arrival back on Mandoa. Obi - Wan groans softly at the lost chance of having some fun, but the same smirk you had fallen for etches his face as he whispers to you:

“Another happy landing,” 

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powerpuff-bucky

Would anyone want a Part 3? Maybe like an Epilogue?

Part 1 - The Deal

Masterlist

Summary: The Child wasn’t the first time Mando broke a contract to save someone. You were the first, presumed dead thanks to help after he was supposed to capture you. Now, you work under a false name with Mando to pay off your dues. However, as time drags on and he breaks another Guild contract, buried feelings between you two bubble to the surface. 

Warnings: Violence, sarcasm, some pretty spicy angst

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter alludes to different types of abuse. Viewer discretion is advised. 

Against the harsh winds of Hoth, your wisps of breath seemed like a whisper. Pulling your hood further over your head in attempt to block out the cold, you trudge on through the many feet of snow before you. On the run, a bandit, an escapee, a one way gate to a mighty sum. That’s all you were to anyone anymore. But who were you before that?

You were nothing.

During the Siege of Mandalore, you were separated from your parents, and quickly snatched away.

Dropped on the doorstep of a ring fighter, your life was nothing but pain and struggle. From the moment you could walk, you were trained with blasters, snipers, sabers, any weapon imaginable. You learned within days that losing was not an option. Not unless you wanted another slew of scars to appear upon your back. Not unless you wanted to be locked into the room with the opposing handler you had lost too. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You broke out from it all, trying to kill your handler in the process. Unfortunately, you had to choose between your freedom and killing the bastard that took it in the first place. For years, you kept bounty hunters off your trail, habiting the most desolate of planets. With each day passing by, the sum would get higher, the more hunters sniffing you out. 

That’s what lead you here, on the frozen, desolate rock known as Hoth. Bundled in Gherlian fur lined coat and pants, you found refuge in a small cave that blocked you from the bitter snap of the wind. Exhaling once more, you watched as the frozen air quickly disappear. Why couldn’t it take you with it? 

You pull out what’s left of your rations and water from your pouch in an effort to find your fire starter. Except it wasn’t there. 

“Haar’chak!” you exclaim in Mando’a, your mother tongue.

A subtle crunch in the snow reverberates into your ear, making you want to freeze. You resist the urge, to hesitate was weak. Instead, you feign innocence in trying to find the stolen starter. Really, you were slipping out your dull blade, ready for the attack. 

“I haven’t heard that language in a long time” a modulated voice says from behind you, holding a very warm blaster to your head. 

Without a stutter, you spin on your ankle and stand, smacking the blaster away. Still holding the blade, you press it right under the masked menaces helmet, where the only skin you could see that was exposed. His hand quickly grabs the dagger, twisting your wrist to turn you around.

But you were smarter. As he spins you, you send your ankle back, hitting him right where the sun don’t shine. A loud groan translates through the helmet with static, but he doesn’t back down. Wrapping his arm around your neck, he holds you close to his body, grabbing a knife of his own. 

“Give up,” his static filled voice says.

“Hmm, no,” you whisper despite the lack of air, sending your head into his face and escaping his grip. 

As he recollects himself, you kick the fallen blaster in front of yourself, bending down, seizing it, and aiming it directly for his helmet. But your steady hand becomes shaken as you get the full view of your attempted captor.

“You’re a Mandalorian,” you say.

“You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” he spits, sarcasm laced in his tone.

Knowing that the helmet is made of Beskar, you drop the now useless blaster and sigh. 

“I thought a man of your honor would leave me alone,”

“I’m a part of the Guild. I don’t ask questions.” 

“Maybe you should,” you reply, an intense glare in his direction sent from your eyes. 

“Look, lady, I’m just here for the money. I don’t care about your life story,” the Mandalorian says as he pulls a pair of cuffs from his belt.

With a sigh, you hold your wrists out like reflex, ready to be trapped once again.

“How much do they want for me now?” you ask as he clasps the metal tightly around your wrists. 

“Why do you need to know?” 

“Don’t you think a girl wants to know her worth?”

“You’re mouthy,”

“You’re clueless,” 

The Mandalorian releases a harsh sigh before pushing you out from the crevice that had protected you both from Hoth’s winds. Within a matter of minutes, you were on the ship and being shoved towards the carbonite freezer. You remember the tool all too well, being familiar with it’s affects. Without any control, you feel the cold touch of fear trace the scars along your spine, making you shiver. The masked menace looks towards you in question. You keep your line of sight forward, swallowing the bile that had piled in your throat from nerves with force.

Unexpectedly, he turns you towards some spare seats and sits you down into one. He straps you in, avoiding eye contact through his visor at all costs. 

“While you’re taking me to that bastard,” you mumble. “do me a favor? Look up (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He still avoids eye contact, pulling a way and climbing up the ladder nearby to what you assumed was the cockpit. You feel the ship roar to life and all you can do is lean your head against the metal wall. It was going to be a short ride through hyperspace, so you let your eyes flutter close, gaining any sleep you could for the torture ahead. 

You’re awoken by the rustling of the Mandalorian grabbing weapons from a closet close to you. The ship’s loud thrusters had drawn quiet and the knawing pain at the pit of your gut told you to run. But you know you were stuck, captured, doomed.

The Mandalorian tugs you from the seat with a rough hand and shoves you out of the ship, stepping onto the planet’s surface you swore to never step on again. He directs you through the crowd of hunters and beggars alike, heading towards the building you knew was coming.

As you approached it, he raps on the door the secret code you had memorized from years ago. The door is opened within seconds and you both are ushered inside, uncontrollable tears filling your eyes as you stare down to hall to your owner.

“I told you...I own you, bitch,” his voice scratched, scarring your ears just like the real ones adorning your body. 

“Slanar at haran,” you whisper like poison dripping from your lips. 

‘Go to hell,’ the Mandalorian stationed by your side translated to himself.

“You’ll pay for that...” he seethes, a disgusting smile breaking the many wrinkles on his face. “Why don’t you show your Mandalorian friend a good time, as a bonus to your return home?” 

You want to vomit right there, a violent shiver over taking your body at the thought. But then the Mandalorian surprises you. 

“I don’t want your payment, Arro,” he says calmly, without a quiver in his voice. 

“Are you sure? She is quite talented, Mando,” Arro replies with the same disgusting smile. 

As Arro speaks, you feel Mando’s hand slip across to your hands bound behind you and unlock them. Adrenaline fills your veins in response. 

“I want her,” he replies coldly. 

The cool metal of a spare blaster embraces your hand. It makes it nearly impossible to suppress the grin bursting through onto your face, imagining Arro’s slumped body on his seedy throne. 

“Well you have her, Mando,” Arro replies, his grin becoming disgustingly excitable as he stands. 

“Not like that, demagolka,” he says, quickly aiming his blaster at him. 

‘Damn,’ you thought, following his lead and aiming your blaster. “he really just called him a real life monster.’ 

The soldiers surrounding you both quickly aimed their own blasters at you. With a small chuckle, you quickly turn in unison with the Mandalorian, taking out the soldiers with the ease of a trigger beneath your finger. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Arro trying to escape from your wrath against him. You quickly aim, but couldn’t find the motivation to pull the trigger while pointed at his head. No...that monster didn’t deserve something as sweet as death. Instead, you aimed lower, quickly shooting both of his knees out from under him. You swore you heard Mando whisper something, but all you could see was red. 

Walking over to the whimpering man, you kicked him in the ribs hard enough to hear some cracking beneath your force. Kneeling in front of his face, you turn your head and force him to look at you.

“Come for me...and my name will be engraved across your face,” you whisper menacingly. 

Standing back up, you kick him hard enough to send him into a state of unconsciousness. Turning back to the Mandalorian, you noticed he hadn’t moved one inch. 

“Vor entye,” you express your thanks, expecting him to leave after you admission.

“C’mon, we should get to the ship before more of his Imps come back,” 

Without another word, he walks out the door with you following close behind, a confused look scrunching up your face.

Once you returned, the Mandalorian wordlessly closed the doors to the ship behind you. He walks over to another hidden closet, tossing you a new blaster and a newly crafted blade.

“I could use a new partner,” he says without turning towards you.

“I’m gonna need a new name then, Mando,” you reply, looking at the blaster and tucking it into your worn holster.

“Dar’manda,” he states matter of factly, his visor finally pointed towards you. “But I’m still calling you (Y/N).” 

The name fit perfectly for you. In Mando’a it meant a state of not being a Mandalorian, not by choice or by being an outsider. Rather, it was to describe one who lost their heritage. 

“Yes, sir,” you say out of reflex, something deeply engrained into you thanks to Arro. 

“It’s just Mando.”

You simply nod, sheathing your new blade. Mando quickly makes his way over to the ladder braced against one of the walls. Before he fully climbs up, he turns back to you.

“You coming?”

With a soft smirk, you nod, following him into the cockpit. 

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For sureeeeee What Could Have Been ❤ for @babi-correia

Reblog if you're a fanfic writer and you wanna know what your followers' favorite story of yours is ❤

Reunited (Platonic)

Summary: Long ago, in a galaxy far far away...your home planet was invaded at the start of the Empire’s invasion. Your memory fails you of the event, only giving you a glimpse in on that day. Your brother, Din Djaren. A smooth flow through your veins. And a Mandalorian helmet. No one knows what happened to your brother, until a years later when you are reunited in an unexpected way. 

Warnings: Violence, cuteness overload from a youngling, not entirely accurate of the season 1 finale, angsty ending

-~-

The smooth metal against your fingertips is a welcome feeling as you help Mando prepare for liftoff, the child laying safely in your arms. Despite the comfort you felt in the motion, your heart was beating out of your chest with nerves. You and the Mandalorian were preparing to meet with Greef Karga, in hopes to get the Empire off your tail so the youngling could be safe. The plan seemed too shaky for your liking, but you followed Mando’s lead as always. 

He was all you had left. 

Sitting in the seat behind Mando, you look down at the sleeping child and a wave of memories washes over you. How you used to lay the same way in your Master’s arms after training long and hard. His soft Scottish accent rising you for your supper. Counting the soft grey specks appearing in his brown and blonde beard as you ate together. 

It had been well over a decade since you watched the monster that was Darth Vader pierce his very being with the red beam you had learned to hate. 

After Ben, or Obi - Was as you had learned to call him, died at the hands of Vader, you promised to never be under the Force’s influence in an effort to avoid joining the dark side. Despite your confidence in your choice, your lack of use of the power left a large hole in your life, just like Obi - Wan had left. 

You turned to bounty hunting to keep busy and get by. That’s when your paths crossed with the Mandalorian. It took some convincing, but Mando eventually pushed you into the duo you make up today. That hole had been filled by the masked warrior, and for the past two years, things were simple. He was your family, even if you weren’t blood. 

“(Y/N)?” his raspy voice echoes in your head. You wake from your slumber, feeling the small child still in your arms as he still snores.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” you ask, your voice crackling from the sudden change in sleep. 

Mando simply nods at you as he heads down to the cargo bay. You follow after him, gently waking the child in the process. Kuiil had made a floating bassinet for the child, which you simply laid him in before rolling your shoulders from your uncomfortable sleeping position.

“(Y/N),” Mando says while standing beside Cara, fumbling with one of his blasters. “Show her.”

You nod and take Cara to your weapons shelf, unlocking it and showing your range of Mandalorian and normal weapons. 

“Take your pick,” you say simply. 

Reaching forwards, you grab your favorite blaster, attaching it to your hip. A few bombs here and there and you felt prepared. But when you turn to Cara, you see the hilt of your old saber in her hand. 

“What the hell is this?”

You quickly snatch it out of her hand, gently sliding it into the empty slot of your belt on instinct, the leather still being tight from lack of use. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

Quickly, you close the shelf and meet the rest of the group outside the ship. Mando holds his hand out to you from a top the giant beast he had mounted. Your hand slips in his like a glove, accepting the boost with gratitude as you straddle it behind him. The beasts slowly begin to move and every so often, you turn to check on the floating cradle that followed you. 

“Are you sure we can trust him, Mando?” you whisper. 

“I’m not sure of anything right now. But if things turn south, you grab the child and you get back to the Razer Crest, got it?” 

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” 

You sigh, not wanting to push the issue any further.

After some hours of travel, you met with Greef Karga and a couple of his men. Things were definitely still tense between the two parties. Nevertheless, you settled in part of the desert for the night, deeming it safer then wandering. Boy, were you guys wrong. 

Suddenly, birds easily the size of a X-Wing manifested from the darkness. You automatically guarded the child’s bassinet, watching as Mando in turn protected both of you. Blaster in hand, you shot at the birds to cover him and to keep them away from the child. After a close call with almost losing the child and your partner, the dust began to settle. 

You gently lift the child out of his bassinet, bouncing him around to soothe his cries as you walked into the group. They all surrounded Greef Karga, a nasty wound on his arm that Cara desperately tried to treat. That’s when you felt it. 

Looking down at the youngling in your arms, you could feel the cold, smooth touch of the Force tickle your skin like light wind. He whimpers softly, his tiny hand reaching towards the wounded man. Gently, you let him down beside Karga. Cara immediately reacted, trying to push the child away.

“No,” you say firmly. “Let him.”

Within a matter of seconds, Karga’s arm was healed and the child was back in your arms. Gently, you lay him into the bassinet, smiling softly at the youngling before sitting down in front of the floating egg. Looking towards Mando, you knew you didn’t have to look under his helmet to know he was shocked. With a soft smirk and a wink, you lean against the crib, falling into a light sleep. 

When daylight hit, all of you were back on your feet. As you approached the hunter’s city, Karga quickly revealed what the real plan was. To kill you and Mando. Instead, he killed his lackies.

“So what do we do now?” you ask through gritted teeth.  

“The Child won’t be left alone until the buyer is dead, so the hunters have no reason to keep following us.” Mando says from beside you.

“Well, I’ll pretend I captured you both.” Karga replies. “Bring you into the boss and then you kill him.”

“I’m coming with you, pretend that I helped capture you.” Cara adds.

Mando hands over his blaster, you following suit. But when it came to your saber, you became very hesitant, not wanting your last piece of Obi - Wan to fall into the wrong hands.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I ain’t got all day.” Karga says, holding out his hand. 

“Call me sweetheart again, you won’t see another day,” you reply quickly, tempted to pull out your saber and light it. 

You hear Mando chuckle softly from beneath the safety of his helmet. 

Slowly, you hand the saber over and let the pair of cuffs wrap around your wrists lightly. You follow Cara and Karga from behind, but you still peer behind you to make sure that Kuiil still has the child safe with him. 

-~-

To say your plan had gone smoothly would be a lie. Going from being in handcuffs to being holed up in the crumbling building was something you had seen coming yet you still walked right into. Using one of the tables as a shield, you listen as Moff Gideon tries to coax you into surrendering and leaving whatever safety the building was offering you. He goes on and on about his big gun, making you roll your eyes. But when he speaks of the Mandalorian, you stop and listen:

“Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin-” 

Din Djarin. 

Din Djarin. 

It echoed in your head like a bad song. 

The screams of that day came back to you as if their ghosts were haunting you that very minute. Your brother, Din, holding your fragile body in his arms as your parents ushered you both into the bunker. Listening to the muffled sounds from outside making you squirm within yourself. The Mandalorian that saved you both, only to turn around and tear you apart.

“Din, no!” you remember screaming as another Mandalorian split you up.

“She’s my sister! I have to protect her!” Din screamed at the other soldier holding him. 

That’s how Obi - Wan had found you. The soldier you fought against for days had tracked him down to train you. A force sensitive child had no place in the new Mandalorian ranks. You never saw your brother after that day. 

You look at the metal mask now, wondering what your brother looked like now, after all these years. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, tears streaming down your face at an alarming pace. 

“I couldn’t let you know, (Y/N). I would just put you in more danger.” he replies calmly. 

“But you practically begged me to join you!” you yell, jumping to your feet, your hand flying to your newly returned saber. “You kept me close enough and kept this lie from me!” 

“I wanted to tell you! But it never seemed like the right time!” 

“I would’ve gathered hear it from my own brother then the enemy!”

“Would you two calm down!” Karga yelled over both of you. “You can figure out this family squabble when we get outta here.”

Wiping away your tears, you distance yourself from the Mandalorian, watching the troops outside. Despite the mask, you could feel his eyes boring into you, most likely filled with regret. 

Part 2? 

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