#pornwithplot

Faster…  I have to run faster.

You ‘stumbled’ on a nest of cursed spirits. You were now running at a deadly pace to lure them into your trap – hundreds of cursed tools poised and ready to kill every last spirit. 

Sweat ran down the length of your spine as you finally rounded the corner of the alley, immediately skidding on the concrete, using your cursed technique to shoot the weapons forward, meeting their destined targets.  

Shrieks rang out through the alley from the dying spirits, blood staining the stones beneath their bodies. 

Without looking back, you summon your own cursed spirit, Osu. You named it, even though you knew you shouldn’t. With the raise of your hand, Osu opened their mouth as you summoned the cursed weapons, funneling them one by one into Osu. 

“Good work,” you smiled, affectionately patting the top of Osu’s gray leathery head. The spirit seemed to pur in response, leaning into the warmth of your hand. 

With that, you sent the cursed spirit back to the in-between, which is what you called the shadows you send your shikigami to. 

You sighed deeply.

It seems there are more and more cursed spirits these days. I left the sorcerers of Tokyo 10 years ago, but it seems I am still doing their dirty work. 

With a look at your blood-stained clothes, you sigh once again as you make your way back to your apartment. 

The citizens of Tokyo walk by, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks in each of their mundane thoughts. Lights of neon billboards light the smoggy night air as cars speed past your relaxed figure. 

You used to hate them. People who didn’t have a cursed technique or couldn’t sense cursed energy. For how weak and useless they were, how they contributed to the problems you had to clean up. The lives of friends that have been lost that you’ll never get back. 

After the Star Plasma Vessel incident, you were convinced that you no longer wanted to be a sorcerer. You were on a mission in Nagasaki when it happened. You were ordered by the higher-ups to return immediately to protect the vessel, Riko Amanai. 

As soon as you received the order you moved, getting to Tokyo in just 6 hours. 

But you were too late.

Toji Fushiguro had successfully killed Riko Amanai, and disabled Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. This was the first update you got. The second was when you arrived in Tokyo. Satoru killed Toji Fushiguro and secured Riko’s body. 

You shivered as you entered your apartment. You remembered Satoru's face that day of Riko’s memorial service, cold and emotionless. 

That day changed everything. For everyone…

“Hiiiikaaarrriiii~?” you called into the room, flipping on the light switch to find someone sitting on your couch. 

“Yo,” 

The familiar voice called and you stopped cold, keys falling out of your hands. 

Your cat, Hikari, lay in his lap, soft belly up, purring at the sensation of his long fingers scratching her. 

Traitor. 

You quietly cursed your cat as you crossed your arms over your chest, pulling a cold mask over your shocked features. 

“Satoru,” you say coldly narrowing your eyes at the man who you haven’t seen in 10 years. Instead of heavily tinted sunglasses he now wore a black band around his eyes. Now he dressed casually instead of his usual black uniform. 

He’s not here on business.

His laugh sounded through the room, light and airy, but you knew it was fake. You had spent too much time with him, even now, you knew him like the back of your hand. 

“I never thought you would be so cold towards me, y/n!” he smiled, the kind of smile he displayed when he wanted to be friendly, but knew he would win whatever argument he was in. 

I’m annoyed. 

“Satoru, I am no longer a sorcerer. I have no place in your world. I declared as much all those years ago. Leave.”  your voice was so stern it made Hikari rise from her place in Satoru's lap and come caress your leg as if comforting you. 

He paused for a moment, smile dropping from his face, as he studied you. He peeled off his blindfold, exposing those brilliant blue eyes. A stark contrast against his moon-pale skin and silver hair. The world seemed to rest in his eyes as they seemed to sparkle with life. 

You didn’t falter. Instead, you held his piercing gaze, refusing to bow to the man you once loved hopelessly. 

“I came to warn you. So before you try to kill me, hear me out.” 

Your eye twitched at his words. A taunt mixed with sincerity. He had always been a cocky arrogant bastard, but his expression was so serious it scared you. So much so that you nodded and sat across from him. 

“Nice place, by the way.” he offered and you scoffed in return, telling him with your eyes to get to the point. 

He held up his hands, took a deep breath, then spoke. 

“In the next few years, the Jujutsu world is going to change.” 

If it were anyone else, you would’ve punched them for telling you bullshit that doesn’t involve you but… That serious expression didn’t leave his face. 

“Which curse is it?” Satoru held no fear for himself, but rather for everyone around him, including civilians, ever since Riko.

“A first-year name Yuta Okkotsu showed up with a cursed sword imbedded with a high-class curse named Rika. Geto attacked him…” 

Geto? I knew Suguru defected, but to attack a student? How far gone is he?

Satoru swallowed and then continued. 

“Geto is dead… But y/n, this is just the beginning. There’s a group collecting Ryomen Sukunas fingers.”

You didn’t hide your shock. 

“They’re trying to resurrect him…” you whispered, nearly to yourself but he heard you while nodding, confirming your suspicion. 

“That’s why the curses are gathering in greater numbers, they’re feeding off the chaos. My guess is the group is trying to bring the glory days of the curses back. Which means –”

“They’re going to raise the number of sorcerers, but they can’t do that with you around.” 

Your eyebrows knitted together.

What are you getting at, Satoru?

“Exactly, I don’t know how they plan to disable me. But when that happens, they’re going to need you y/n. Innocent lives will be lost if you don’t step in, but it has to be at the right moment. They’ve forgotten about you, about your skill how your strength was second to mine…” 

You were already shaking your head. The thought of going back to that power-hungry world. That bloody world… 

“Y/n think–”

“No,” you said breathlessly, Satoru's emotionless face of that day flashing in your mind. How he was a hollow shell for the remainder of that final year. 

It broke something inside of you. You had seen so many deaths, but to see him, the man who smiled so carefree and bright be rendered to… That? Sure, he gained a deeper connection to his power, but at what cost? 

“Y/n,” he said your name, voice softer as he reached across the coffee table, his warm fingers brushing yours. 

“No, Satoru. You don’t know what you’re asking me to do.” 

How could he? Your feelings were one-sided, to begin with. 

Back then, you watched as girls flirted with him as he flirted back. Yet you were always there. You always listened to him when he needed someone to talk to about his scars, about the shadows that chased his light. He did the same for you, but perhaps it was out of pity. 

You pulled your hand out of his touch, foreign and familiar. Even after all this time, your skin still missed him. 

“You’re asking me to step back into the world I hate the most, but only after something horrible happens to you…?” your eyes stung as you finally met his gaze. His features were blurry, but you could see his fair eyebrows knitted together as he bit his inner cheek. 

“I won’t die,” he promised, voice soft and vulnerable, a voice that you had only heard once before. 

Your lip quivered. 

“There are things worse than death, Satoru Gojo. I rather die, than watch you suffer again,” you admitted. 

His eyes widened at your words, shock plain on his face but you didn’t care, you pressed on. 

“I will not go through that again… When I got that call saying you had been disabled by Toji Fushiguro I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was as if all the air in the world had evaporated. I traveled through the in-between to get to you. Only to find you…” your words died in your throat as salty tears fell from your eyes. 

Shaking your head, you ran your hands down your thighs to ground yourself to reality. 

—

Satoru was wordless. Which was rare for him. 

He hadn’t stopped looking for y/n for the past 10 years. 

When she suddenly announced her separation he felt lost. He had gained a lot, but he lost everything important to him. She had been there for him since the beginning, and he for her. 

He recalled the first time he had ever seen her cry. There was a rumor that she had no feelings, that the strong female sorcerer was all ice with no heart. But when he saw her high up in a tree, knees tucked into her chest, rocking slightly, he realized they couldn’t be more wrong. 

It’s not that she didn’t feel, it’s that she felt too much, lost too much to the point where she didn’t want to let anyone close to her fragile heart. 

Satoru stared at y/n’s current crying frame, he watched as she tried to steel herself. Hands rubbing her thighs to try and soothe her pain, to ground herself. She chewed on her bottom lip as she concentrated between his eyebrows, unable to truly meet his eyes. 

Memories of their past flashed in his mind. Particularly the night he opened up to her about growing up in the Gojo clan, and the things he had done leading up to attending Jujutsu High. 

They were stuck on a mission together, the atmosphere was awkward and they only talked when discussing how to swiftly dispose of the lower-level cursed spirit. Satoru was particularly annoyed because he thought he was given such a remedial task, one that was without Suguru which at that point the two of them had become inseparable. 

“Y/n, are you always so serious?” Satoru drew out his voice while leaning over her shoulder, lazily craning his neck to meet her eyes over his glasses. 

She simply waved him off with an elegant hand while rolling her eyes. 

“The sooner we finish this mission the sooner I can be done with you.” She sighed, popping a piece of gum in her mouth as she pressed on. 

What is wrong with this girl? Usually, women kill to get a chance to be alone with me.

“Hey hey hey aren’t you being a little too mean? After all, you should feel grateful that I am here.” he boasted, stuffing his hands into his pockets, matching her brisk pace easily thanks to his long legs. 

Her features further dropped into annoyance as she eyed him sidelong with one eyebrow raised, as if in a warning. 

“I have no idea why we got put together. Anyways Gojo, we’re going to be entering the area where the cursed spirit was sighted. Even though it’s reported as a low-level curse we should still be cautious.” the woman scolded as she pushed a piece of her long hair behind her ear. For some reason, that act alone distracted him. 

“I’m not worried since nothing can touch me. Unless I want it to of course.” he shrugged and she rolled her eyes again. 

“Yes while you may feel invincible, I am not blessed with your lovely Infinity skill. So I will continue being careful.” another bemused sigh escaped her full lips. 

Why am I so distracted right now? Is it because I know she’s putting up a front? 

He was lost in thought for a while till her voice called out into the silence. 

“This should be it. You remember the plan, right?” her eyes meet his over her shoulder, a coy smile tugging on her lips. 

“Of course.” he returned her smile. 

—

“Well, that was easy.” Satoru whistled looking at the pathetic excuse for a curse. Its corpse lay motionless on the floor of the abandoned skyscraper. 

“Too easy…” y/n said, voice wary. 

She crouched down in front of the corpse, face emotionless, eyes dissecting every aspect of the curse trying to find its secrets. 

Scary. She’s too smart.

Her plan went effortlessly. She had him drop his technique entirely so they couldn’t be sensed. She went in alone since the curse was reported to only attack young women. He was to tail her, concealing his existence until the curse showed itself. Once it did, all he had to do was attack it with his cursed energy. 

“Such a weak curse.” Satoru clicked his tongue, hands returning to his pockets. 

Why did we even get put on this mission? Y/n maybe I could see, but me? Why couldn’t I go on the mission with Suguru? I can’t–

“GOJO MOVE!” 

At that exact moment, he felt a huge amount of cursed energy that he didn’t sense earlier, but he was too late. 

Y/n had jumped in front of his body, shielding him from the attack. 

Y/n looked at Satoru with wide eyes as the cursed spirit stabbed through her abdomen. Blood spilled from the wound and her mouth as the spirit pulled back. 

In a second he killed it, but it didn’t matter.

Y/n fell to the ground, hand tightly pressed to her wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. 

Panic bubbled in his chest as he quickly ran to her side, taking off his jacket and shirt, beginning to rip the fabric into ribbons. 

“What’re you?” she asked weakly, color already draining from her face. 

“Don’t talk, move your hand.” she hesitated, but she moved her trembling hand from the wound. 

Shit, I need to stop the bleeding. I could use the Reversed Curse– no, too risky. I haven’t practiced enough. 

He moved her jacket and shirt up, exposing her bright red stomach. Taking a deep breath in, he begins stuffing her wound. 

Y/n screams out in pain as Satoru stuffs the hole, packing it as tightly as he can and he does the same to her back. Despite the pain she was in, she forced her body to be still for him. 

“Almost done,” he promised to her, she only nodded through gritted teeth. Her skin was clammy and cool to the touch. 

She’s going into shock.

Hastily he secures the packed wound with the remainder of his t-shirt and then wraps her in his jacket. He watched her face for a minute, her breathing is ragged and her eyes are tightly shut as if she was trying to block out the world. 

“I’m going to move us now, can you hold onto me?” she nodded weakly as she reached up wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Her blood smeared all over Satoru’s bare chest and stomach as he stood. He pulled her higher to have her head rest in the crook of his neck to try and return some warmth to her skin. 

I can’t take her to a hospital right now… There will be too much of a commotion if I do that. Better if I take her to a hotel for the evening and call someone in secretly to treat her. 

With one last look down at her he prayed for the first time in years that she survived the night. 

—

“I’m happy you have half a brain Gojo.” Shoko chided as she finished healing Y/n’s wound. 

They both had been dressed in fresh clothes thanks to Shoko. 

“If you didn’t act when you did, she would have died because you’re trash,” she added, pulling out a cigarette and making her way to the balcony. He followed behind wordlessly, lost too much in his thoughts to truly take in her words. 

Shoko was always with Suguru and Satoru, and she is skilled with her Reversed Curse Technique. Thankfully she answered when he called, if she didn’t he might’ve had to do it himself…

“Thank you for coming,” he said in reply, and she eyed him while she lit her cigarette, taking a long drag of smoke. 

“Where’s Suguru?” she asked instead of responding to his thanks. 

“Another mission. They stuck the two of us together. It was supposed to be just one curse. But…” his words died. 

It’s my fault. I got distracted. I let her get hurt.

Shoko sighed, reading his mood, and took another pull of her cigarette.

“She’s alive, that’s all that matters.” she flicked the ash over the edge of the balcony.

“I won’t tell the higher-ups, I’ll keep this a secret. But learn from this and be more careful in the future. Not everyone can protect themselves as you can.” she took another long pull, blew out the smoke, and put out the bud. 

“I am leaving, call me if anything changes.”

He watched as Shoko left and then positioned himself on the chair in front of the bed that housed y/n. 

The pain was gone from her features but she was still far too pale. The blood that colored her cheeks was gone. The tips of her fingers felt impossibly cold. He had to keep watching the rise and fall of her chest to remind himself she was still alive. 

Hours passed like that, guilt wracking his mind as he watched her sleep, then she woke up. 

“Gojo?” she called weakly, hand immediately going to her once wounded abdomen.

Her face twisted in confusion as she continuously touched the skin there, feeling for the hole. 

“Shoko healed you.” 

His voice was soft and raw, he had no masks to put on today. He couldn’t, not after what she did for him. 

She nodded once, wincing as she positioned herself on her side so she was facing him. 

“Why do you look like that?” she asked while running a hand through her messy hair. 

“Like what?” he knit his eyebrows together. 

Why is she already picking a fight?

“Like a wounded puppy.” with a huff, she flicked his forehead. Of course, he had let her, but it still left him surprised. 

“See, that’s better. That face suits you way more.” she smiled softly with cracked lips.

“What face?” some life returned to his voice. 

“The face of a surprised idiot.” nodding as if proud of herself, she burrowed further into the blanket. 

“Why’d you do it…?” 

“Hm?” 

“Why’d you jump in front of me, y/n? You know about my skills and yet you…” he shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. 

She seemed to ponder the question for a moment, eyes on the ceiling.

Clearing her throat she spoke. 

“You may not have noticed it, but you let your technique drop. I felt the difference in the energy. As soon as I noticed the spirit's attack there was no way I could counter-attack in time to save you. So if you look at the scales, and ask what life holds more value, it’s yours. So I choose you.” she said it so matter-of-factly, the blatant disregard for her own life, saying it held less value than his own. 

“What?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. From a young age, people have tried to kill him. He was positive even the old higher-ups wanted him dead but didn’t want to face the consequences of killing the head of the Gojo Clan. Yet here this girl, who he barely knows, is saying that his life is more important to her than her own. 

She smiled as if reading his thoughts. 

“Although I hate to admit it, you have the power to change this world. I do not. If I could save the world's savior, then maybe my tarnished soul could be spared.” her voice was sweet like honey, but her words struck him deeply. 

 “Tarnished soul?” he repeated her words like an echo. 

She smiled again, though this time sadness traced her features, settling into her eyes. 

“You saved my life, so I suppose I could share some of my demons.” she ran her hands along the blanket. 

“I discovered my curse technique when I was young. Being able to sense cursed energy and summon Shikigami came very easily to me…”

 She considered something for a moment, then continued. 

 “You see, my home life wasn’t what you would call a ‘Happy Family’. So I was glad to have a distraction.” she paused, again running her hands along the blanket as if she was soothing herself. 

“One day I came home early from school with my report card. I had gotten straight A’s so I wanted to show my parents. I entered our small home only to find my father stabbing my mother… Out of fear and rage, I attacked and killed him. It was also then that I discovered I possessed the Reversed Curse Technique. I tried for hours to heal my dead mother to no avail. Her wounds closed, but her heart didn’t beat. The police found the scene two days later, with me hugging my mother's body…” By the time she finished, her words were barely a whisper. 

Silence fell in the room, only the sound of their breaths filled the space. For some time, neither of them spoke. 

“I have never told anyone that.” she professed, voice shaky and unsure. 

Not knowing what to say, he reached for her hand. She accepted his touch, and he enclosed her fingers with his, her hand feeling impossibly small.

“Your soul isn’t tarnished.” 

She met his eyes, hand trembling in his. Something about her expression was so raw, so vulnerable that he felt that he needed to wrap his arms around her and protect her from the world that had taken so much.

“I killed my blood,” she shakily whispered, tears pricking her eyes. He soothed her by rubbing soft circles into her palm. 

“So have I…” 

—

“I can’t promise you anything, y/n,” he answered honestly, recalling the pain she shared with him. Knowing full well how much of him she held in her heart, and how much of her he held in his…

She ran her hands down her face, nails lightly digging into her skin. 

He read the reports of her movements when Mei had found her. She did networking remotely for a hospital but still went out of her way to hunt down cursed spirits. Going after nests or high-grade curses, to help alleviate the risks for students training at Jujutsu High.

When he got the reports months ago, he almost dropped everything to see her then. But everything got so busy with Yuta. 

Now that he’s here, all the things he wanted to say died in his throat. The sight of her shaking and crying, the tears he only ever got to see, made his knees weak and his resolve crumble. 

Women were always interested in him, some he entertained, but none he cared for. Not in the way he cared for Y/n… No one compared. 

“You’re those kids' best hope if I get taken out of the fight,” he said honestly.

He thought of his new dream, and re-strengthened his mind, trying not to let his resurfaced feelings sway him. 

Her eyes met his, and his breath caught in his throat. 

Time had been kind, and her beauty only grew. Eyes mature and loving, face kind and warm. So different from how she looked as a sorcerer. 

She took him in for a moment, for the first time since she arrived she truly looked at him, she saw him. 

He felt naked under her gaze, he had never been self-conscious, but with her, he felt nervous. Fearful he wasn’t enough, that he wouldn’t ever be enough. 

“You’re playing dirty, Satoru Gojo, by bringing the next generation into this.” he watched as she sighed, shoulders curving inwards as she leaned back against her chair. Her blood-stained clothes clung to her skin. 

“Then you’re agreeing?” she nodded, stress already lining her face. 

Before he could talk, she spoke. 

“Now if this concludes your business, leave.” the edge from earlier returned to her voice. It threw him for a loop. 

“You don’t want to talk?” his voice, though sounding normal to anyone else, sounded pathetic to his ears.

She eyed him again, eyelashes wet from her tears.

Beautiful.

“Satoru… What do you want from me?”

—

Your heart was in your throat. 

You agreed to sign yourself back up for pain because Satoru was right. If he was taken out of the fight, those kids will need someone to help them, your personal feelings aside. 

But how could it not be personal? When the man you loved, who you still love, sat across from you with an open unguarded expression. Practically begging you to continue talking to him.

You spent years trying to forget him. The memories you both shared, the internal wounds you healed together. You tried finding your peace in others, but it was futile. The sight of his smiling face still shined brightly behind your eyes. The stories of his achievements chased your ears. 

You sighed, running your hands through your hair whilst awaiting his answer. 

“Do you still feel the same about me, y/n?” 

Bastard. Answering my question with a question.

“Does it matter? You never saw me in that light, to begin with,” you answered him bitterly, some of your anger returning to the surface. 

Genuine shock filled his beautiful eyes. 

“I. Why do you think that?” he cocked his head to the side as if studying you. 

“It was obvious, Satoru. In many people's eyes, you are a God. Women practically threw themselves at you, and you greedily took in all their advances. I watched it happen time and time again. If you harbored feelings for me, you wouldn’t have acted that way.”

The truth hung between you. You ran your hands along your thighs to calm yourself, not wanting to cry for a second time this evening. 

You made to stand, but Satoru caught your wrist, halting you in place.

“I took you for granted,” he admitted eyes on the floor. 

The warmth of his hand spread to your flesh. Your skin sang at the feeling, your pores drank him in, missing him as much as your heart did. 

You stayed silent. The air between you two was impossibly heavy as your heart pounding against your chest, like a bird trying to escape its cage. 

“I won’t apologize with my words…” he stood, now towering over you, even with the coffee table separating your bodies. 

Those beautiful, intense eyes pinned you in place. You now truly looked at him for the second time this evening.

He grew into his features more, now even more beautiful than he was when you were a teen. He was unreal, like that of a painting. All silver as if he was pure moonlight with eyes like the clearest sapphires. You resisted the urge to take his face in your hands, to greedily bask in his warmth – in his scent. 

Satoru walked around the table as he gently let go of your wrist. Instead, he place both his hands on your cheeks, cupping your face as his long fingers tangled themselves in your hair. Despite yourself, you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. 

I’m still so weak to you.

“Will you let me make it up to you?” his soft voice whispered, thumbs rubbing your cheeks. 

You trembled at his touch. He was close enough that you could smell him, the smell of fresh summer rain and jasmine. Beautiful and alluring – it was home. He was home…

Satoru crouched down now, his face just mere inches from your own. Your breaths mixed as he stared at you so sincerely it made your chest hurt. 

You gently grabbed his wrists. 

“I can’t lose you…” the words came out of your throat in a croak. The thought of him being hurt or worse frightened you. It made your blood run cold and your stomach churn. 

“I am yours, y/n.” 

Not a promise that nothing will happen to him, but a promise of his heart, and that it belongs to you.

You nearly wept, the words you thought you would never hear now filled your ears. You almost thought this was some twisted dream, and that at any moment reality would slam into you the way it always has. 

“And I am yours, I have been since that day you saw me crying in that tree.” a confession of your heart fell from your lips. One that you held so close and suppressed like a child's dream thinking it will never come true.

He pressed his lips to yours. A soft sweet pressure that made your stomach flutter. You fit so perfectly together that it was dizzying. His lips moved smoothly and passionately against your own, tongue licking your bottom lip asking for permission which you granted. 

The taste of him caressed your tongue, the smell of him filled your senses, the press of his warm body against your own it all made your toes curl. Your tongues danced as your fingers found their way to his silken hair, tugging slightly, pulling him deeper into the kiss. 

You had been kissed before, but nothing compared to this. The way his tongue teased yours, the loving press of his soft lips, and the reassuring pressure of his hands against your face; made your knees weak. There was a painful desperation between you two. The unspoken fear that you’ll never see each other again. 

His hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you closer to his body. You gasped at the contact, heat spreading from your face to your chest at the feeling of his firm muscles against your torso. 

You were so lost in the feeling of him you forgot you had to breathe, so he pulled away first– a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips as he rested his forehead against yours. 

You both breathed heavily, eyes hooded and dark with desire. 

He caressed your face as if he was trying to remember every curve, dip, and pore that resided there. 

“Y/n,” he whispered breathlessly, desperation coating his voice. 

“Satoru,” you answered, just as winded as him.

“Don’t run away again…” 

Your eyes widened. 

He pulled his face back, allowing himself a full view of your features as he lovingly massaged your scalp. 

“I understand why you left. But you didn’t even say goodbye.” 

Blue eyes searched yours as if trying to find answers to the questions he’s had for years. Your mind went blank as your blood still sang with praise from the press of his lips, already missing his warmth. 

You overlapped his large hands with your small ones, gently rubbing the sides of his palms. 

“I won’t run,” you promised. 

He didn’t move, his eyes still searched yours indefinitely. Almost as if he was holding his breath, waiting for you to change your mind. 

“I won’t run, I'll fight for you, and for our future.” those words removed the invisible chain that shackled your heart. For so long, you held everyone at arm's length, but where did it get you? You were tired of pushing away your feelings. 

A smile slowly spread across Satorus's face. It was a dazzlingly unpracticed smile, a real smile. One that was only for you. 

“Our future?” he repeated while humming as if thinking your words over. 

You bit your bottom lip in embarrassment as the blush on your cheeks deepened. You got carried away by the moment and perhaps spoke too honestly. 

“I think I like the sound of that,” he murmured then began planting feather-soft kisses on your cheek. 

 You bit back your giggle as he continued trailing kisses to your nose, forehead, jawline, then the corner of your mouth. 

“Satoru” you called softly, running your hands down the length of his strong arms, hands settling on his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Hm?” he purred innocently into your skin, lips ghosting over the expanse of your neck. The heat from earlier returned to your bones at his touch. 

“I am exhausted,” you admitted. 

You had spent all day tracking the reported nest. You then used up a fair amount of your cursed energy for the attack. On top of that you just went through a whirlwind of emotions you still have yet to process. 

He pulls his face from your neck, eyes now filled with concern as he traces your body for any sign of injury. 

You half sigh half laugh as you take his face in your hands, shaking his head slightly. 

“I.Am.Fine.” you drag out each word from your lips, tilting his head at each word as if it would make it reach his brain. 

You watch as his eyes gloss over as if missing your point entirely. 

You sigh, gently stepping out of the warmth of his embrace and gesture to your still blood-soaked body. 

“I need a shower, hot tea, and decompression time. It’s been a long day with surprises.” you smooth your hands over your face as the weight of the day settles over you, the excitement of early slowly dissipating. 

A smirk pulled on the corner of Satoru’s full lips as a mischievous look filled his eyes. 

“It’s quite late, isn’t it?” he mused, playfulness in his tone as he rubbed his chin. 

“Yes, it is,” you confirmed slowly, not quite catching what he was planning. 

“Well, it would be troublesome for me to leave at this hour, due to the trains stopping for the night. I mean, you know how far Jujutsu High is.”

Your eye twitched. He wasn’t wrong, of course, but what he was implying–

“So I guess I have to stay the night!” he said cheerily, extending his arms over his head like a child spinning in a circle. 

I only have one bed… The loveseat is too small for his stupidly long figure. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you briskly brush past him. 

“I am sure you make enough money, go find a hotel,” you say hurriedly, making your way over to your bathroom.

You hear his light footsteps right behind you, entering your bathroom with you. 

“Awww, why are you being like that? After we just kissed too?” though he pursed his lips to a pout, his eyes were full of humor. 

He’s enjoying this too much.

“Are you saying because we kissed you have earned yourself the right to be in my bed?” you crossed your arms over your chest, making sure to push your full breasts up while jutting out a hip. You wore a breezy white button-up shirt and black pants. A plain outfit sure, but one that complimented your silhouette. 

If he was going to tease you, you were going to return the favor.

You watched as he swallowed his saliva, eyes taking in your figure as they danced with desire. He stood several inches taller than you, and it didn’t help that you were in the confined space of your restroom. With your back pressed against the wall, he peered down at you, eyes hungrily taking in the sight of you. 

He placed an arm above your head, pinning you in place. 

“If I said I won’t do anything unprovoked would you believe me?” he asked his voice deep and low which made your stomach flutter. A smirk was playing on his lips, one that would make most women swoon. 

You licked your lips, throat suddenly feeling dry.

“You always do what you want. You get what you want when you want it. So no, I do not believe you.” you continued to meet his heated stare, which seemed to please him. His fingers tilted your chin up further, making you crane your neck up to him. 

“Are you suggesting I want you, y/n?” he purred, already knowing your answer. 

You rubbed your legs together, trying to relieve some of that growing pressure between the apex of your thighs. A movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. 

“I’m sorry, am I supposed to assume otherwise when you follow me into a bathroom and pin me against a wall? Or do you do this with all your friends?” there was one thing you never lacked, and that was your quick temper. Thanks to that, sarcasm tended to lick your words at all times. 

His hand gripped your face, fingers lightly squeezing your cheeks. 

“But are we truly just friends, y/n?” he brought his face closer to yours, hot breath tickling your skin. 

“I recall,” he hummed as he took his free hand and trailed it down your clothed sternum. “You called yourself mine earlier.”

Your mind was cloudy, dizzy from the proximity of his face, the warmth of his hand gripping your cheeks, the smell of his skin, the soft caress of his voice; all of him was a drug, one that you could get high off of forever. 

“I did,” you confirmed swallowing your dry saliva, trying to keep your voice steady. 

Anticipation coursed through your veins as his finger continued to travel down your abdomen, hooking under the hem of your ruined shirt.

“Would you like me to show you how well I take care of things that are mine?” Satoru hummed, hot finger swirling around your belly button. 

His long eyelashes lowered, making his intense gaze turn sultry and possessive. You forget to breathe for a moment, the heat between your legs spreading like a fire to your stomach, responding to his soft touch. 

You bit your lip, your weak attempt at trying to resist him; crumbling with each mixed breath. 

“What do you say, y/n? Will you let me worship you?” he dragged his finger up your stomach, playfully pushing under the band of your bra, just below your breast. Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips to your ear, tongue licking your soft lobe. 

“Will you let me claim what's mine?” teeth grazed the soft shell of your ear and you gasped, head tilting back as the feeling went straight to your sex. 

“Y-Yes,” you whispered, giving up your control, dropping your last barrier. 

You felt him smile against your skin as he wrapped his hand around your waist.

“Good girl,” 

You had to bite back the moan that threatened to escape your throat as he roughly kissed you, the press of his lips hungry and desperate. Strong hands wrapped themselves around your soft thighs, hiking you up the wall so he could press his hips into yours, hard cock pressing against your need. 

Locking your legs around his waist you tangled your hands into his hair, fighting his tongue for dominance, clinging to the taste of him. He let a satisfied moan escape into your mouth as you dragged your teeth along his tongue, pulling it further into your mouth, sucking on the muscle.  

He grabbed your ass shaking it roughly, the action making your clothed clit rubbed against his throbbing cock. You moaned greedily into his mouth as he possessively bit your bottom lip, tongue swirling along the swollen flesh.

Pressing his body further into yours, he removed his hands from your rear and began undoing your blouse, lips never leaving your own. He teasingly brushed his fingers over your clothed peaked nipples as he tantalizingly exposed you to him. Expert fingers crawled up your spine to your bra, undoing its clasp.

Supporting your weight with one arm, he took one step backward so he could remove the clothes that kept your skin from him. 

He pulled back from the lull of your lips so he could admire you. Your breasts were heavy against your chest as your nipples ached, crying to be touched as the rest of your body did.  

Satoru let out a satisfied sigh, eyes taking in your breasts as well as the tattoos that decorated your ribs and sternum. 

“My fucking God you are perfect,” he praised, freely tracing his hand over the ink of your tattoos, lighting your skin ablaze. 

“Mm, Satoru,” you whined lightly, tightening your legs around his waist to try and give yourself some relief. 

He laughed darkly, his pupils swallowed his eyes entirely as pure desire resided in them. 

“Eager for my dick, are you?” he hummed, two fingers pushing past your lips. You obediently sucked them, hollowing out your cheeks as you coated his flesh with your saliva as if this was your answer to his question. 

You reveled in his pleased expression, he played with your tongue a bit while marveling at you. Ever-so-slowly, he removed his fingers from your mouth. He then scissored your thick, stringy saliva between his fingers, placed them in his mouth, and hummed in satisfaction. 

Your insides turned molten at the sight. His eyes never left yours, even when he dragged his fingers out of his mouth. It was as if he wanted to drink you in, commit your every reaction to memory. He had barely touched you, but you could feel your wetness soak through your jeans. Your walls throbbed, practically begging to be fucked by him. 

He read your expression easily, smirked, and then pressed his lips to yours instantly claiming dominance over your swollen lips. You were too lost in him to even noticed he had moved to your room, gently placing you down on your bed. 

Lips trailing white-hot fire down your neck, he hooked his sinful fingers under the waistband of your jeans. He made quick work of taking the fabric off your skin and he kissed, sucked, and nipped at your neck. You moaned, all earlier pride washing away while being steadily replaced with lust.

You spread your legs wide for him, your sex, still clothed, had completely soaked your panties. Cool air kissed your heated flesh and you hissed, earning yourself a chuckle from Satoru. He rubbed gentle circles into the plush of your thighs, making you squirm with impatience. 

He stepped back and you trailed him, sliding your fingers under his shirt, tugging it off his deliciously toned body.

“It’s maddening that you still have clothes on,” you admitted, bringing your knees under you, and planting kisses on his abdomen. He cursed at the touch, fingers entangling themselves in your hair as his gaze burned through you. 

“Mm, you look so pretty on your knees for me, y/n.” he encouraged you as he lightly dug his fingers into your scalp. 

You began taking off his pants as you trailed your tongue up his torso, his body shuddering against you as began sucking right above his hipbone. 

You ensured to leave his boxers on, as he left your panties on you. It was driving you insane having a barrier between you two, but it was also a fun game you knew he was playing; who will cave first?

Ensuring to keep eye contact, you ghost your hand over his clothed length as you dip your tongue under the waistband of his boxers, feeling the stubble of his regrowing pubic hairs against your tongue. His eyelashes flutter as the hand in your hair trembles, you could tell he was holding back. Seeing him this way made your core throb. 

“Are you trying to tease me?” he breathed heavily, chest rising and falling above you. It served as your encouragement. Purely drunk off the sight of him being so sensitive to your touch. 

For a response, hummed innocently as you didn’t stop your teasing. With your other hand, you slid it up his left leg ensuring it entered his boxers, skillfully avoiding his balls and shaft while you softly swirled your fingers dangerously near where he wanted your touch. 

His cock twitched, lightly hitting your hand and you smirked, biting into his hip, eliciting a moan from his throat. You moaned sweetly into his flesh, which drove him mad. 

His hands found your shoulders and pinned you down to the bed as his lips found your clavicle, tongue tracing the length of the bone. 

“Who knew,” he whispered breathlessly into your flesh, hands spreading your legs wide, as he began planting slopping kisses down your chest. 

“That the girl who would cry in trees would be so evil?” Satoru licked his way from your sternum to your navel, tongue swirling around the soft skin making you squirm. 

You hummed, fingers refinding his hair which prompted him to enclose your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head. His mouth wrapped around your nipple, tongue expertly teasing the rosy bud making your toes curl. You mewled, back arching into his mouth as pleasure crawled down your spine. 

“Who knew that the strongest man in this world would be so weak to my touch?” you challenged back, voice breathy and low. You earned yourself a nip to your nipple, making you yelp as your walls clenched at the feeling. 

Satoru seemed to like your comment about him being strong because he happily worked your full breasts with his mouth, giving you a sensation of pleasure you never experienced before. Your soft moans filled the room, which only encouraged him more. Every lick, suck, and bite brought you closer to that edge. 

He noticed too, humming into your skin and then removing his mouth, making you let out a needy whine in protest. 

“Were you close, y/n?” he cooed, lips traveling south.

“Asking questions you already know the answers to?” you answered slyly, hands struggling against his iron grip. You wanted to replace the warmth your breasts had lost; wanting to chase the taste of pleasure he gave you.

“I always do, sweetheart.”

He smiled up at you, face between your legs, his breath tickling your needy sex. He inhaled deeply, making you blush even harder but you didn’t break eye contact, refusing to lose to him.

“Look at you, y/n. You're such a mess for me,” he clicked his tongue and dragged his finger up your wet, clothed pussy. Fire pooled in your gut at the lingering sensation of his finger. Your body trembled. You bit your lip, concealing the throaty moan that threatened you.  

Satoru got on his knees and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, your dripping core mere inches from his face. Without hesitation, he licked his way up your clothed cunt in a zig-zag-like motion, stopping just before reaching your swollen clit. You moaned loudly at the sudden pressure as your stomach tightened at the pleasure. 

“Your panties are so soaked, and you wore white, too. Almost like you knew,” His voice vibrated against you, making you shiver. 

He planted another lick on you, again stopping right before he reached your bundle of nerves, avoiding where you wanted him most. 

“You taste so good baby.” he praised while continuing to slowly lick your pussy, your legs began to shake as your body screamed for more. He dug his strong hands into your hips, pinning you to the bed to keep you still for him. 

It felt so good, but also incomplete. With each swipe of his tongue, he moaned appreciatively, drinking in your scent, losing himself in the taste of your need, but never fully giving you what you want. 

“S-Satoru, mm, please.” you pleaded helplessly, submitting to him fully. 

“Be a good girl for me and tell me what I want to hear, y/n.” 

Another long lick without relief, you whimpered. 

“Beg for me,” he whispered darkly, tongue licking above your clit just for emphasis. 

“I-I am yours,” you panted, the ability to form coherent sentences increasingly becoming hard for you with each press of his tongue. 

“And?” he coaxed, fingers now joining his dance as he rubbed two of them against you. 

You recalled his words from earlier this evening. 

“I want you to worship me,” you moaned loudly at the slight brush of his finger against your clit. 

“What else, y/n? Tell me what you want.” his teeth are now wrapped around the lace of your panties, ready to pull them down at your words. 

You swallowed your pride, allowing yourself to be consumed whole by his eyes. 

“I want you to fuck me. With your mouth, with your fingers, with your cock. I want you to fuck me however you want, Satoru. I am yours, and you are mine.” as the words left your lips, he peeled your panties off your body. 

Cool air kissed your throbbing pussy making you quiver. 

“I am going to make you forget every man that came before me.” 

The pure promise of his words nearly drove you over the edge, but nothing could compare to what came next.

His tongue licked up your dripping cunt, making your juices drip down to your ass. He growled anomalistically into you as you coated his tongue. You tangled your fingers in his hair, the sweet press of his tongue against your clit making you buck your hips. 

“You’re so perfect,” he praised into your sex, sending sweet vibrations to the deepest parts of you.

His mouth wrapped around your clit, tongue swirling and sucking your bundle of nerves, sending delicious waves of pleasure through your firey veins. Breathing was impossible, you became a moaning mess for him. His name left your lips like a prayer, and he drank it up. Savoring every bit of your helpless moans, knowing they were all for him. 

Without warning, he slid two warm fingers into your slick walls, momentarily stretching you, then removing them entirely.

What?

You knitted your eyebrows because the only noise you could make was strangled pleasure-filled moans. 

But soon, those two fingers enter your ass, as his thumb entered your cunt making you moan uncontrollably. 

You were overstimulated, so much pleasure filled you. His free hand came to play with your breasts, pinching a rolling your nipples between his rough nimble fingers. The edge crept back up, the knot in your stomach tightening. 

“S-Satoru I’m–” you cried, your release rapidly approaching. 

Tears pricked your eyes. No man had ever made you feel this way, let alone make you cum. You were almost afraid of the release. 

“Not until I tell you to baby,” he warned, his tongue flicking your clit relentlessly as his fingers pumped both your holes, driving you closer and closer to the deep end. 

You clenched your walls hard, trying so desperately to hold back your orgasm, which only made Satoru pump and suck you faster. 

“I-I can’t–”

“Cum for me baby,” 

His words were your undoing. On his command, you came hard around his fingers, both of your holes shuddering as pleasurable waves crashed over your body. Stars blotted your vision. Your feet became unbearably hot as your hands held his hair for dear life as if it would save you from your overwhelming orgasm. 

“Good girl, cum for Daddy.” Satoru praised you, tongue tracing slow circles on you as his hand helped you ride the wave. 

You felt like you were floating. Your body was impossibly light as you came down from your high. You tried to remember how to breathe.

Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale.

Wet lips found yours, the taste of you lingering on his tongue as his body hovered over you. You moaned into his mouth, your body sensitive and mind hazy as the after-effects. 

Through his searing kiss, you began to reground yourself in reality. You hook your legs behind Satoru’s, then flip your bodies, pleased to find at some point he removed his boxers as your slickness coated him.

“Your turn,” you take his bottom lip between your teeth, dragging them slowly along the plump flesh. He gives you an appreciative smack to your ass, the feeling going straight to your groin. 

You trail your lips down his neck, licking and sucking at the supple skin, relishing in the gasp that escapes Satoru’s lips when you lick his ear. Grinding your slick pussy against him, he grunts, hands holding your hips tight enough to leave bruises. 

You smile as you feel him grit his teeth, soft pants leaving his lips. 

“Feel good Daddy?” you ask innocently, pulling your face back to look at his beautiful face. 

His cheeks were flushed with lips wet and parted, eyebrows knitted together, and eyes completely transfixed on your wet pussy grinding against him. 

“Mm, you feel good baby,” he says to you softly and watches as you lean back further, placing your hands on his sculpted chest, moving your hips with a deeper pressure.

“Tell me what you want,” you sigh, enjoying the warm feeling of his thick cock against you. His eyes find your face, taking in your satisfied features, smirking at the sight of you getting yourself off by just grinding on him. 

He takes your face in his hand and traces your lips with his finger. 

“I want you to wrap that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock.” 

The heat in his gaze alone nearly drives you over the edge, so you oblige him. Making a show of you getting on all fours for his lying down frame, wiggling your ass in the air for him, earning yourself another spank. 

You take his member in your hand, pumping him a few times, marveling at his length and girth. Satoru just watched you, sucking in air between his teeth at your touch.

Bigger than anyone I’ve ever had…

Meeting his eyes, you brought your lips to his tip. Sucking and swirling your tongue, humming when the salty yet sweet taste of his precum hits your lips. His expression darkened as you moved your mouth down his shaft, hollowing out your cheeks, allowing him to travel down your esophagus until your nose touched his stomach.

“S-Shit, y/n.” his hands fisted your hair as you happily shook your mouth around him, causing him to curse again. 

Slowly, you make your way back up, licking his underside as your hand cup and gently massage his balls. He’s beautiful, even with the sweat dripping down his brow and his face contours from pleasure. 

You begin to pick up your pace. Ensuring to suck harder towards the tip and make slurping and choking noises to stroke his ego. Your saliva thickened as your throat fucked him and as soon as you could comfortably take him he regained control. 

Satoru began thrusting his cock in your mouth at a relentless pace, you could see the satisfaction in his eyes as your tears formed and you struggled to breathe. 

“You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth. What a good little slut you are.” 

Your walls clenched at his word as you licked and sucked him as best you could with his pace, getting off on the fact that you were pleasing him. You moaned against him, which in turn made his cock twitch. 

“Fuck, just like that baby.” he hissed while throwing his head back into the sheets, the base of his cock twitching more and more in your mouth. 

Suddenly, he aggressively pulled your head back, completely taking your mouth off of him, saliva dripping from your wet lips. 

He laughs, running his thumbs along your cheeks. He pulls himself to a sitting position as you hungrily stare at his glistening angry red cock that stands proudly against his stomach. 

“You almost made me cum,” he mused breathlessly, peppering kisses along your cheek. 

“Well, that was my intent,” you smile and he groans, flipping your bodies so that you’re under him again. 

He aligns himself with your dripping entrance and smiles at you. He smacks his cock against your clit, sending shocks down your spine. 

“Tell me to stop if it hurts, okay?” you bit your lips and nodded, earning you another world-shatteringly beautiful smile. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs against your lips as he slowly pushes into you, swallowing your gasp.

You tremble as your walls adjust to his thickness, the feeling of him stretching you felt like heaven. Inch by inch he pushes into you, allowing you to adjust to him every step of the way. His tongue plays with yours as he swallows your satisfied moan at the feeling of fullness he gives you. 

“Fuck Satoru,” you breathe between the two of you. He nips at your bottom lip as he grabs your legs, allowing himself to bottom out in your pussy. 

“You’re so fucking tight, y/n,” He presses his forehead against yours as a shuddering breath passes his lips. You nod your head while digging your fingers into his shoulders, a signal to him to start moving. 

He pulls out of you, almost entirely, then rolls his hips back into yours. The feeling makes your stomach tighten, he reached so deep in you as your velvet walls hungrily sucked him back in causing you both to let out a moan. 

He picked up his pace, now biting his lower lip in concentration. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached up and caressed his face, marveling at this beautiful man. 

“Mine,” you whispered, almost to yourself. 

“Yours,” he answered, slamming his hips into you, angling himself to hit that spongey spot that connects right to your clit.

You couldn’t hide the obnoxious moan that left your throat as he hit that spot over and over again, making your eyes roll back. 

“Found it,” 

You both lost yourselves in the feeling of each other. Him in the warm wet bliss of your walls tightly hugging him, you in the friction and stretch of him. Your mouths were a hot mess of skin, teeth, and saliva. Your hands hungrily gripped one another. His hands find your ass, bringing your hips up to reach a new depth in you, which you returned by meeting his relentless thrusts. 

There was a sort of desperation in your movements together, as if you both feared this would be the last time you would be able to express yourselves. 

Your breaths became ragged as you felt the approach of your second release. You hopelessly raked your nails down Satoru’s spine. His thrusts became more erratic as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, which caused you to clench around him. He wrapped his hand around your throat, hard enough to leave a mark, light enough to allow you to breathe. 

“Fuck baby, I’m close.” he breathed into your ear, hot and heavy. The words brought you closer to the edge. 

“I want you to cum for me Daddy.” You said breathlessly, the words falling off your lips in a slur. He grunted, fingers digging into your plump ass. 

He sucked the juncture between your neck and shoulder. He reached between your bodies and rubbed expert circles into your clit, sending you over the edge for the second time that evening. 

Your release crashed over you hard as your walls clenched around Satoru, taking him over the cliff with you. His seed spilled in you, warm and deep which made you feel so full and satisfied. You moaned helplessly into his shoulder as he whispered your name in your ear as if it was the most precious thing in the world. 

—

Y/n’s body shuddered against him as they came down from their highs together. Satoru rubbed soothing circles against her sweaty back while peppering her hot cheeks with light kisses. 

He has had a lot of sex, but nothing ever felt like that to him, ever. His cock was already hard again, deep inside y/n's warm pussy, plugging her full of his seed. 

He had no intention of having children, but he needed to claim her, in every way he possibly could. He wasn’t satiated, not even close. 

“Y/n,” he pressed a kiss to her soft, swollen lips. Basking in the taste of their combined lust. 

“Hm?” she murmured dreamily, long eyelashes fluttering against her deeply flushed cheeks. 

“Turn around for me,” he ordered. She whimpered but obediently did as he said. 

Sluggishly, she unlatched their bodies and crawled forward on the bed, and got on all fours, shaking her ass in front of his face. He sighed at the sight, watching as their mixed juices streamed down her plump thighs. 

Getting on his knees himself, he positioned himself at her entrance, relishing in the way her body shuddered at the contact. Grabbing her long hair and wrapping it around his hand, he slammed his cock into her quivering pussy. 

She moaned loudly into the bed as he tilted his head back, getting drunk from the feeling of her tight velvet walls sucking him back in, taking all of him. Satoru didn’t hold back as he greedily fucked her, watching as her ass bruised with his hand prints bounced on his cock. 

She cried his name into the bed, hands gripping the sheets as her chest fell to the mattress forcing her back to arch at a harsher angle. He watched as drool pooled from her mouth with her face squished, moving back and forth with each hard thrust of his hips. 

“You’re doing so good baby girl,” he moaned meaning every word. 

She smiled, lifting her head slightly to meet his eyes, nearly driving him over the edge. He never came quickly before, which is why he was so shocked when he nearly busted from her mouth alone. She had bewitched him, in ways that no woman could even compare. From the feeling of her lips, moans that were soft and musical to his ears, down to the taste that dripped for him. No one came close. 

“Mm, you feel so fucking good.” her praise was like honey, making his cock twitch and he set an ungodly pace, hands digging into her hips so he could pull her into his deep thrusts. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” she cursed, her legs shaking beneath him as her walls clenched around him. 

He smiled wolfishly, roughly grabbing her face and kissing her. She moaned into his kiss, unable to control the tears falling from her eyes. 

Tasting the salt on his tongue, Satoru pulled away and sweetly kissed her tears away. 

“Does it hurt baby?” he asked softly, fear suddenly coating his veins. 

“N-No, you’re just, ah, so, you feel–” her words were messy and slow, yet he couldn’t help but think she couldn’t look more beautiful to him. 

She let down each and every last barrier for him tonight, and he knew how scary that was for her. He wanted to appreciate her, in every way possible, starting with giving her the pleasure that he knew no one had given her. He could tell by her reactions, the surprise on her face at each orgasm that she never came through sex before. It filled him with pride and a sense of ownership. 

He slowed his pace, rubbing circles into her lower back to allow her to breathe. 

“What is it, love?” he coaxed, lovingly smoothing her hair out of her face. 

She gulped down air relaxing into his touch, and she sighed. 

“It’s a lot, I-I’ve never.” she closed her eyes, body shuddering against him. Again, he felt her walls clenching him deliciously, it took everything in him not to moan. 

“I know, baby. I know,” he assured her, peppering kisses along her spine. His hips moved in sync with hers, matching her pace while enjoying the full feeling of her.

“Do you want to stop?” he offered, but she shook her head with vigor even with her eyes showing signs of exhaustion. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips, she was just as drunk off of him as he is of her. 

He was enjoying this almost too much. He could do this for hours, but he didn’t know if her body would hold up. 

“Good girl,” 

At his praise, her pussy responded, clenching hard around him. 

He smiled, taking his hand and pressing it to the base of her neck, gently forcing her face down into the bed. She screwed her eyes shut, teeth sinking into her lips to conceal her moan. 

With a deep breath in, he picked his pace back up, rolling and hammering his cock into her. Her legs began shaking so much to the point they gave out on her, her body laying flat on the bed as he continued to bring them closer to their high. 

“Fuck, you’re so deep,” she moaned, voice muffled by the sheets. 

He grunted, the compliment filling him with even more motivation. 

“You do such a good job at taking this dick, y/n.” 

She whimpered her orgasm close. He could tell by how tense her body was. Her walls were impossibly tight around him, clenching down hard on his cock as if it was trying to suck him in. 

“D-Daddy I'm close–” 

His eyes rolled back. Hearing her sweet voice say such dirty things for him drove him crazy. 

“I want you to cum all over my cock baby.” 

He pressed kisses to her shoulder, sucking on the skin as his release crept up on him, balls tightening to prepare for the burst. 

Her hands clawed helplessly at the sheets as he overstimulated her body. 

“That’s right, let go, y/n. Let me make you feel good.” 

She screamed his name as she came all around him, dragging his orgasm out of him. White-hot fire crashed over him as he stopped dead in her, shaking violently as he spilled his seed into her for the second time. 

“Fuck,” she heaved, chest rising and falling heavily. He could only nod against her clammy skin, lips pressing soft kisses to her shoulder. 

She reached her hands around their bodies and began rubbing his thighs, small hands trying to soothe him. 

Laughing lightly, he slowly detached himself from her. His cock missed her warmth immediately as he set out to her bathroom, bare feet padding on the cold hardwood floors. He found the towel he sought and returned to her side. 

She whimpered while he helped her into a sitting position. Slowly, he pressed light kisses to her face as he gently cleaned his seed off of her. It had spilled everywhere. Down her thighs, on her ass, on the sheets. Everything was sticky from their various fluids, and it made him feel good knowing he was the one that caused it. 

He looked to y/n. She leaned back on her hands, eyes closed, forehead slick with sweat, lips parted as she tried to breathe. Her nipples were still peaked as he took in the sight of the love marks he had left on her skin. It made him smile. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pushing some of her hair that stuck to her face out of the way. 

“Hm, so are you.” she hummed happily, opening her eyes to meet his. 

His heart skipped a beat. 

The way she looked at him was indescribable. Even back then, she had been one of the few people who were completely honest with him. She didn’t care how powerful he was. She ignored it and accepted him. He showed her the darkest parts of himself, and she still supported him with a smile. This woman, who he failed to realize his feelings for till it was too late, looked at him with nothing but love.

He pulled her into his lap, taking her lovely face into his hands. 

“I can’t promise you it’ll be easy with me,” her eyes widened. 

“There may be a time where I get hurt, or I sacrifice myself for my students, or I make a stupid decision.” 

“You always make stupid decisions,” she chided with a snort, coaxing a smile out of him. 

“But, my heart is yours, y/n. For however long we are here on this earth, I promise to love you, and only you.” the truth of his words clanged between them as his heart pounded against his chest. It was the first profession of love he ever made and meant – it terrified him. Being this vulnerable, knowing now he truly had a weakness. 

She smiled, softly taking his hands in hers. 

“I love you, Satoru Gojo. I will love you through the pain and blood that awaits us. I will love your stupidity. I will accept your demons, fears, and dreams all the same. I will support you. I am yours.” 

His lips found her soft ones, trying to conceal the tears that fell from his eyes. Despite that, her hands found his cheeks, lovingly wiping away his tears. 

He couldn’t stop the flow. He felt so much at once; relief, pain, sadness, longing, happiness, fear, love. It overwhelmed him. He had missed her for so long. The way he would push her buttons so she could spit fire at him. How he was the only one who saw her soft laugh. He missed the way she would hold his body with her small one, promising him he wasn’t a monster as her scent enveloped his senses. He chased the smell of her for years, due to it being the only thing that made him feel at ease. 

He realized then. 

She was home. She is his home.  

—

One year later

“Y/nnnnnnnn~!” Utahime called out to you, arms spread wide and she ran towards your approaching figure. 

You smiled softly, opening your arms to accept her embrace. The woman crashed into your arms, chest pressing hard against yours as she sobbed into your neck. 

“I thought you died! To think that bastard Gojo found you before I did!” she cried and you laughed, rubbing circles into your friend's back. 

“Oi! What do you mean by ‘bastard Gojo’? And get off my woman!” his tone made you chuckle. 

You two haven’t changed much.

“Utahime, let y/n breathe.” 

You look in the direction of the voice and saw Mei Mei. 

Your heart stopped. She looked even more beautiful than she did when you were young. 

Utahime begrudgingly lets go of your frame. Though she pulled her cool indifferent mask back on, you could make out her slight pout. 

Mei Mei grabbed your shoulder, her red lips pulling into a wicked smile. 

“Have you been well? Has this trash been treating you well?” 

“Hey, I’m right here!” 

“Yes, I have been well, how about you?” you smile innocently as you, Mei Mei and Utahime start walking – ignoring Satoru entirely. 

The grounds of Jujutsu High were just as beautiful as you remembered. You chatted idly with your friends, sharing stories of the past ten years. Utahime couldn’t hide her tears at some parts, where Mei Mei reassuringly rubbed your shoulder. Satoru lazily trailed behind, a secret smile on his lips as he watched you smile with your friends. 

As you entered the main building you sighed, memories flooding your mind of your time here. 

“Time sure does fly,” you muse, spinning in a small circle to take in your surroundings. 

“It does,” they all said in unison, making you chuckle. 

“Do they know?” you asked no one in particular, knowing everyone knew what you were asking. 

“Gojo is still hiding your existence from the higher-ups, which is why we’re confused as to why he brought you here. Is it for Itadori Yuuji?” Mei Mei asked carefully, eyeing Satoru side-long. 

You nodded once. He proposed that you meet Itadori Yuuji, Megumi Fushiguro, and Nobara Kugisaki so they could learn your face and trust you in the future. 

As you approached the classroom an annoyed female voice rang through the hall. 

“Oi! Idiot A and B are you listening?!”

“Yes yes yes, we’re listening”

“I want a steak”

“No you idiot I said we’re eating sushi! Sushi! Listen and repeat after me. Su-shi. Tell that happy-go-lucky teacher of ours that we want sushi!”  

You had to stifle your laughter as Satoru opened the doors to the classroom, arms spread wide with a nonchalant smile plastered on his face. 

“No need to fear your good-looking teacher is here!” 

“Huuuh?” the students said in unison, their heads cocked to the side as they stared at the teacher with dumbfounded expressions. 

Mei Mei and Utahime positioned themselves outside the classroom, ensuring to keep an eye out for anyone who might come down the hall and see you. 

You quietly step into the classroom, an awkward smile on your face as you softly wave to his precious students. 

“Hello, I am y/n l/n. It is nice to meet you.” you bow deeply to show respect to the younger generation, but you hear Satoru’s sneaky chuckle. 

“Gojo-sama is this the girlfriend you’re so obsessed with?” a cool-toned voice called out from the black-haired student. 

Toji’s son, huh?

“No way, this is your girlfriend?!” the pink-haired boy called out, voice full of energy and brightness. 

Sukunas vessel.

“Of course, it’s his girlfriend, look at the way he’s standing so close to her.” the young female chided, looking at you with bright sparkling eyes. 

You couldn’t hide your laughter. You used your hand to cover your mouth as the sight of them reminded you so much of Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. 

“I wanted to introduce you to her, so in the future, if you have to work with her know that she can be trusted. Back in the day, her strength was second only to mine.” Satoru bragged about you shamelessly to his students, making you blush. 

Yuuji blushed while looking at you whereas Megumi simply turned his gaze away. Nobara still looked at you with awe. 

“Why aren’t you a sorcerer anymore?” Yuuji asked, and you smirked bringing your index finger to your lips. 

“It’s a secret.” you threw the students a wink, and Megumi let out a sigh. 

“You’re just as bad as him.” Megumi stuck his chin out towards Satoru, which made you smile inwardly. 

It’s still strange to think Satoru raised this kid, even if it is to spite the Zen’in clan. 

“Don’t be rude!” Nobara slapped his knee, causing Megumi’s eye to twitch. 

“Stop fighting, you’re making me look bad.” Satoru scolded, but none of them listened. 

“Huh? Who cares about that?” Megumi challenged, easily pushing Satoru’s buttons. 

“Eh? What did you just say you brat?” Satoru wasted no time, locking Megumis head in his arm, aggressively messing his spiky hair up. 

You stood, trying to stifle your laughter at the lively sight. Nobara cheered Satoru on while Yuuji remained shocked at his teacher's actions. You could hear Mei Mei sigh and Utahime covered her eyes in disappointment.

You didn’t know how long this would last, but it made your heart feel so full. It healed the very last wound that plagued your soul. Finally, you were whole again. 

Pershing is noticeably absent from your daily schedule of pokes and prods. Today, the medical droids are administering the usual cocktails and vitamin injections under the watchful eye of several storm troopers.

“Where’s the doctor?” you ask the medi-droid.

“Dr. Pershing is currently unavailable. Do not worry. Dr. Pershing has left explicit instructions on your medical protocols, and we are more than qualified to see to your care.” it says, in its most reassuring droid tone.

“What could be more important than this? Did the doc find someone better to torture?”

“The results from donor testing have arrived. Doctor Pershing was sent to retrieve the most favorable candidate for your breeding trials.”

Breeding trials. Your stomach plummets like a broken lift, falling out from under your feet.

So, this is it? Times up.

Your heart begins to pound faster, while at the same time, your soul goes numb.

“Who’s the lucky winner?” you ask. Images of both men flash through your mind. The face of one, the intimidating mask of the other. Granted, neither would be welcome, but the masked man had left haunting chills over your skin for days after your introduction.

“Dr. Pershing was sent to retrieve —--”

“Hey medic, shut your trap and finish your job before I rip out your voice box and rearrange your circuits,” one of the troopers threatens.

The medi-droid does a double take, and thinking better of it, doesn’t finish its sentence.

Doesn't matter much anyhow. What it does mean, is that you have a choice to make, and you have to make it now. Dr. Pershing’s absence has provided you with a unique opportunity. The medi-droid had prepared several medical trays lined with every possible tool it might need. Only an arm’s length away, lay a syringe full of the one you recognized as the paralytic. Hell, even if you were wrong, you could empty the syringe and use it to deliver an air bubble through the vein. While neither a paralyzed heart, not an air embolism sounded like your idea of a good time, the pain couldn’t be any worse than the torture you had already endured on this ship. And the end result would mean that Gideon would fail. You would be dead, but he wouldn’t be able to continue this twisted experiment….until he finds someone else.

“How much longer?” One trooper asks the medi-droid. “One more round.” it replies, sticking the last plunger into your bicep. “Go report that we are almost done.” he directs his fellow two troopers. They shuffle out the door the way troopers tend to do, their plastics thumping in succession.

Only one trooper left, you can do this.

The lone trooper raises his blaster in your direction, on edge as he waits for his comrades to return. His head swivels back and forth between you and the door.

Not yet. Wait for it.

“Hurry up and finish,” he commands the medi-droid.

“Almost finished.” The droid says, removing the last plunger from your arm.

A tiny drop of blood wells to the surface of your skin.

“Can I get a bandage?” you ask the droid, calmly.

The droid turns away, to retrieve a sterile wipe and bandage from one of the trays. Your heart pounds out of your chest as you wait. The trooper looks away, at the empty doorway. Your hand snaps out, plucking the syringe from the tray. You quickly tuck it up your sleeve- no easy task when your hands are in binders. It’s out of sight, just as the trooper’s helmet turns once again, the clanking of armor signaling their return.

“They’re informed and waiting.” the trooper announces.

“Let’s go!” the impatient one says, yanking you by the other arm, off the table, before the medi-droid has time to place the small cotton swab on your skin.

It doesn’t escape your attention that you’re headed in the opposite direction, away from your cell. “Where’re you taking me?” you ask, but none answer. It’s just as well. Thoughts begin to race through your mind. This is it. You have a decision to make.

You silently check the position of the syringe, concealed beneath your sleeve. It’s there- if the situation becomes more than you can handle….it’s a last resort, but it’s there. Your thoughts begin to drift, shifting to the one sole comfort you’ve found on this cursed ship.

Days had passed since Gideon had delivered Mando’s message. At first, the decision of whether or not to play the communication a second time or not, warred in your mind. You didn’t want them to see how much it meant to you- how much he means to you. And, they were always watching.

You had tried to bluff your way through the obvious, tried to convince Gideon that his perceptions were way off, that the Mandalorian was just another enemy on a different day of the week. But let’s face it. He was two steps ahead with everything. And even if you had managed to plant the smallest seed of doubt in his mind, Mando’s message had confirmed everything he needed to know.

She means more to me, than you will ever know.

His voice played over and over in your mind, until eventually, it wasn’t enough. The need to hear him, to see him again, trumped your pride. Over these last days, you had played Mando’s message again…..and again….and again. Maybe a hundred times by now. And of course, it’s exactly what Gideon wanted, because he was right. It felt like a reason to keep fighting.

So lost in thoughts of Mando, you scarcely realized you were heading for a part of the ship you had never been to before. You make a concentrated effort to remain calm and collected on the outside, despite the thundering in your heart as you come to a stop in front of large doors. They woosh open and the two troopers in front of you split away to reveal a large conference room. It’s dark, illuminated only by several patterned light panels on the wall, and a few glowing control screens. There's a large oval shaped table in the center, the surface- a pristine black glass, void of even a single smudged fingerprint. Around the table, several sets of familiar eyes stare silently back at you. The energy of the room feels dark and heavy, like a tangible weight pushing down on your very being.

The trooper behind you jams the tip of his blaster between your shoulder blades, nudging you further into the room. A couple of officers, Moff Gideon, and Pershing, occupy the outlying seats, but it’s the cold, dead stare of a black mask, seated at the center of the table that has your blood running cold.

Everyone rises from the table- everyone but the man in the black mask- he leans back in his seat, kicking his boots up onto the table. The fact that he sits at the head of the table and not Gideon, is curious, but it also confirms what you’ve known all along. There is always someone more powerful, and the empire is an endless line of power-hungry thieves, lying in wait for their turn to take something from you.

Gideon approaches you, his officers falling in line, close behind.

“I hear you’ve been enjoying the message from our mutual friend, seems you like to play it over and over.” he says, a hint of taunting in his voice. You look away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking into your eyes and seeing how his words sting. “I watched it myself a few times.” he admits casually.

He’s goading, trying to get a reaction from you. You give him nothing, though your chest rises and falls as you struggle to maintain even breaths. “Officer Ryn, remind me later, I must send a thank you message to the Mandalorian, for delivering her to me, a second time.”

Your anger continues to rise, but you remain quiet. The fight is still to come, and it will be of no use to waste your energy on a verbal sparring match with Gideon- not when the man in the black mask is staring you down.

“Your silent resolve tells me that you understand the inevitability of your situation, implicitly. Nevertheless, it bears repeating; Your cooperation is neither demanded, nor is it necessary. Either way, I will get what I want. It merely informs me on how to proceed with you in the future, and despite what Dr. Pershing thinks, I am not convinced your usefulness exists beyond the delivery of my future asset. So, you may want to consider that when you have a choice to make, and you are weighing violence over compliance. Because soon, the tables will turn, and it will be you, who is wanting something I have.”

At the implication, your eyes raise to meet his, and you can see he means every word he just said. With a satisfied smirk, he proceeds to exit the room, spouting off directives to his underlings. The room empties, leaving the masked man at the table. Pershing is the last to leave, hanging back until the doors close. He looks nervous and remorseful, and tears begin to well in your eyes at the sting of betrayal you feel towards him. He’s weak, a puppet too blinded by the power of creation to do the right thing. “Here, let me give you this.” he says, holding out his palm.

“What is it?”

“Twilight,” he says, revealing yet another syringe. “It’s a sedative. You’ll be in an altered state of consciousness, but you won’t feel anything. You’ll likely not even remember it happening.”

And you won’t be able to fight.

You look straight into his eyes. “You’re not like them- you’re worse. Because you know this is wrong, and yet you do it anyway.”

“Please, take it,” he pleads. You press your lips together and turn your chin away, refusing to spare his weakness another second of your time.

“Leave.” you say.

Pershing’s face looks anguished, his shoulders deflating as he slowly leaves the room. You hear the blast doors close behind you. Now it’s just you and him- the Sith who has the prestigious appointment of sperm donor.

You’re terrified but find the courage to take steps toward the table.

“Sit.” he commands, peeling his gloves from his fingers, one digit at a time and dropping them on the table. You do as he says, choosing the chair furthest away, at the opposite end. He studies you for a moment, before making a small gesturing wave with his hand. Your binders fall loose, clanking onto the table like a dead weight.

“No need for obstructions, don’t you agree?” His modulated voice is portentous, it looms like a dark shadow, echoing the chill in the room.

You swallow hard, taking in his casual appearance. The boots on the table, his fingers casually entwined over his gut as he leans back in the chair- all at opposition with the menacing fear his physical appearance commands, as well as the seriousness of the room. He is a predator, and you are his prey. A plaything of little significance and right now he is toying with you. A little entertainment before he feasts.

“So, you’re the victor I see. Tell me, does that mean you are a more powerful Sith, or just that you had faster swimmers?”

He chuckles out loud, “Ahhh, there it is. There’s the cutting tongue I was so hoping for. You had me worried for a moment. Thought maybe you had given up.”

“You must be powerful if Pershing chose you.”

“That little bladderweasel doesn’t have the slightest comprehension of what real power looks like. He fails to realize, our biggest strengths cannot be measured by gadgets with little blinking lights.”

“What kind of power?”

“Power like you and I have.”

“And yet, you’re here, just as I am. To do Gideon’s bidding.”

“Is that what you think? That I am here to do his bidding?”

“It certainly seems that way to me. You submit to his little tests, you’ll carry out his dirty work, and you would let him take your offspring, free to do with it what he will?”

He lowers his boots to the floor and leans forward, staring at you with the cold plastic. “Gideon is barely worth notice. I don’t care about any of those things. That’s not why I am here.”

You blink twice, trying to puzzle out his motives, but nothing holds water. Sensing your thoughts, he fills in the blanks.

“I’m here for you……to break you.”

With those words, you know the game has changed. There are greedy people, cruel people, power-hungry people in this galaxy, of course. But seeing someone who wants to hurt others simply because they can, because they are little more than pure evil, is something altogether different. You can’t reason with unreasonable people. Your heart stutters as you consider the small weight hidden in the folds of your sleeve.

No. You have to fight. Din would want you to fight.

As if he can read the direction of your thoughts, he continues.

“Just as you watched video of your Mandalorian over and over, I watched video of you." The thought that this man has been watching you in any sense, sickens your stomach. "Did you know that a powerful Jedi, would succumb to a dozen full strength lashes from a shock-whip? A powerful Sith- maybe double that? But you…. you withstood thirty-six lashes on a lethal setting. Thirty-six. Do you know, how I know? Because I counted. Each and every time the cord struck your flesh, my hand stroked my own. I’ve never been more turned on than I was watching you hold out. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Your stomach turns, nausea threatening to bubble over. He’s truly sick in the head.

“Are you saying that I am more powerful than you?”

Amused by the direction of your question, his tone becomes one of pleasure.

“No. All Sith are different, like all jedi are different. Some have gifts others will never carry. Some are stronger in some areas, weaker in others. There is no simple formula for weighing one against another. What you need is a Master.”

“But I am no Sith.”

“This is true. But that can change, with time and training. Certainly, you are no Jedi.”

“How do you know? What’s the difference?”

“Jedi will ask you to give up the things that are the most important to you.”

An image of your Father’s face flashes through your mind in a distorted memory- gone in a blink. He had given up his family, a sacrifice for something you have yet to understand.

“And what would the Sith ask of me?”

“We can give you the means to protect those things, at all costs.”

So, is that what it comes down to? Jedi will sacrifice the ones they love to save the galaxy, while Sith will slaughter the galaxy to save the ones they love? Yes, morality says there is a clear answer, but is it wrong to at least take a moment and consider the alternative? What would you do to save Din? Instinct says, anything it takes. This can’t be it; this can’t be the way.

“All I know is that if you are the best representation of what the Sith has to offer, I want no part of it.”

“I never said I was the best. I said I was here to break you. Now stand up and take off your clothes.”

Adrenaline hijacks your veins. Your brain rushes to formulate a plan, but all attempts come up empty. You’re weaponless, and your opponent has likely mastered his abilities, none of which you are privy to. You hesitate to obey, and clearly not one for patience, he takes matters into his own hands.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you are frozen by an invisible force that lifts you off the ground. You can do nothing more than breathe as every limb in your body is paralyzed in place, succumbing to the pressure of someone else’s will. The feeling of helplessness leads to overwhelming frustration as your body is imprisoned by this unseen force. You hover above the table until you are slowly pulled forward, your toes dragging along the smooth glass of the tabletop. When you hover just beyond his reach, the pressure mounts, forcing you down on your knees before him. You breathe between clenched teeth as you struggle to fight back, but your limbs are no longer under your control, helpless to do anything but obey his silent command. The feeling is sickening.

He reaches out to stroke your cheek. You bear it, unable to flinch away. “Tell me pet, does the Mandalorian take off his mask for you? Because I don’t think I can achieve full satisfaction without gazing upon you with my own eyes.”

You don’t respond, stunned and disheartened that he has any knowledge of what’s between you and Mando.

He studies you a moment longer, his head tilting to the side.

“You’ve never seen his face. Hmmm.” He says it factually. Maker, is he able to read minds too?

The thought of him seeing into your mind, your deepest most personal thoughts is more violating than anything he plans to do with your body.

“Tell you what….” he says, reaching over his shoulder. He unclips the double ended vibro-blade strapped to his back and tosses it to the floor with a loud clunk. Then, his thumbs slip to the underside of his mask, as he pulls off the helmet to reveal his face. He’s mid-forties, maybe older, with medium brownish hair cut short and a thick beard that matches. His eyes are a disarming gray and bisected by a wicked looking scar that starts in the center of his forehead and runs down the bridge of his nose before jogging under his left eye- He's seen many a battle. His brows are thick and pinched with an expression you don’t understand.

“...If you want to imagine I’m the Mandalorian, to make this easier on you, I won’t be offended. Now be a good little pet, and fight back, for me.”

All at once, you feel the imposing force give way as he drops his powers in favor of physical force instead. Your arms fly out landing several blows to his face before he easily pins both of your wrists into one of his hands. Your head springs forward, crashing your skull into his nose. You hear a nasty crunch sound that precedes a stream of blood that oozes out of his nose. The act is effective, but it also sends a shooting pain through your head as well. He throws out his shield, leaving you immobile once again. He uses his free hand to wipe the blood leaking from his nose and stares down at it, surprised. A smile spreads across his lips.

“That’s right pet, show me those claws of yours.”

This time, when you’re lifted up off the table, it feels as if it’s by your neck. A strangling sensation, like two hands wringing your neck, cuts off your air- despite the fact that he’s not even touching you. Your own hands fly to your neck, trying desperately to peel away the invisible force cutting off your air supply. Stars and black spots dot your vision until you fall like an anvil back to the tabletop. You choke and sputter, keeling to your side as you gasp in an attempt to reinflate your lungs. Before you can recover, you’re rolled to your stomach, and yanked back until your legs dangle off the table. The invisible force shifts, pinning your hands to the table- as if they are cemented in place.

There’s a tugging at the hem of your shirt, followed by the violent ripping sound of the fabric being split up the middle. He pulls the two flaps he has created off to the sides, revealing the surface of your back to him.

Your breathing is erratic, small clouds of breath fogging the black surface of the table as your cheek presses against the glass. He lovingly begins tracing the various scar lines, the thin streaks of raised skin, slightly off-color than the rest of your skin, that fork out like lightning over your back. You have yet to see them with your own eyes- a mirror not being one of the priorities in a prison cell- but you had traced the few that you could reach, once Pershing declared you ‘healed’.

“So beautiful.” he says, running the pad of his finger over the raised skin. He leans closer and you can feel the press of his erection against your backside. He’s literally getting off on this.

His voice lowers to a whisper as he hovers just over your ear.

“It may bring you some comfort to know that he suffered greatly for what he did to you.”

“Wh…what? Who?”

“The officer that did this. I may have enjoyed watching, but that man didn’t deserve to be alone in a room with one such as you. At the earliest opportunity, I made sure he understood that. It should please you to know that he wept like a baby, before pissing himself rotten and begging for release. In the end, on the same setting he gave you, he only lived through two lashes. Nevertheless, he received thirty-six.”

Pershing said Officer Dickhead had been punished, but you had no idea. Immediately, you alight on a strategy.

“You did that for me?”

“I did it for us both.”

“You’re right, that does bring me some comfort.” You let your body go lax, let the fight against his shield, wither away.

He runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. It takes every ounce of strength you have in you, not to visibly heave or show your revulsion.

“Kiss me.” you say, taking him by surprise.

“What?”

“Kiss me. Maybe you’re right. Maybe if I close my eyes and imagine…, maybe it won’t be so bad.”

He’s clearly thrown off, not expecting this turn in conversation. He tries to work out your plan, finding absolutely no threat, because he knows without a doubt, that he easily wields his power over you. Curious to see where this is going, and even more aroused by the possibility of you reciprocating, he lets up on his hold, allowing you to turn over. You keep your movements small and steady- apprehensive even, allowing him to perceive no threat. The smile on his face says he sees it for what it is- a ruse of some sort, though he is willing to play along, for nothing more than the sheer entertainment of it all.

He leans forward, arms braced on either side of your body, as he lowers his mouth to yours. You close your eyes and focus on the tiny ball of light that roots itself in the pit of your stomach. It starts to spin, gathering speed and mass as his lips press against your own. Tentatively, you begin to kiss back, opening wider for him when his tongue breaks the seal of your lips. You ignore the physical sensation and focus intensity, as it begins to grow, mirrored by the expansion of power flooding your veins. You increase your concentration, while letting a seductive moan slip out, as the power welling inside begins to coil like a spring. Your soft moan urges him deeper.

He’s wary, unsure what you’re playing at, but enjoying it, nonetheless. He keeps your hands pinned above your head with his invisible influence. His own hand moves to your neck, ready to squeeze the life out of you, if need be. But the possibility that you might be having a genuine reaction to him, is too much to resist.

“Open your eyes and kiss me like that.” It’s a test. He wants to be the one you’re thinking of, he wants to know that he is the one eliciting these responses from you- not some figment of your imagination. So, you do. You open your eyes and stare directly into those probing gray depths and kiss him like your life depends on it- because it does.

The second you feel the grip on your neck ease, you unleash a maelstrom of power that flashes out like a tidal wave. His body is ripped from atop yours and sent sailing back until it slams into the wall behind. His body crashes, impaling itself into the now broken light panels. Sparks flitter as the lights sputter off and on, illuminating the silhouette of his massive frame. You roll off the table and come to a hard stop as your body meets the floor. Nausea roils as your limbs struggle to find purchase on the slick floor. You didn’t pass out but failed to leave yourself enough energy to escape the room on two feet. You begin to crawl toward the door, praying to the maker that your blast was enough to knock him out cold. The door feels lightyears away, and you’re not sure where you’ll go even if you make it, but you have to try.

Wishful thinking is shattered, when two meaty hands grip you by the ankle, flipping you onto your back. Your blast drained you of all energy, and it simply wasn’t enough to put this mad dog down for more than a brief moment. There’s no strength left in your body to fight back when your boots and pants are pulled free of your body. This is it, and you wasted everything you had on one blow, doing little more than redecorating the room.

“That’s a good pet.” he says, eliminating the barrier of his own pants in the process. “That’s why I chose the war room for our first time, because I knew you’d give as good as you get- almost forgot who I was dealing with for a moment.”

Your body is too weak to fight, depleted of all working muscle. Even your brain struggles to stay awake as your head swims. “Now pet, it’s your turn to remember, and I’m going to leave you with a piece of me you’ll never be able to forget.” Too weak even to cry, your heart goes numb as he runs his fingers over you, testing your entrance.

“Any last negotiations before we begin? Or did you completely waste yourself on that little show back there?”

Your silence is all the answer he needs.

“Tsk tsk, such a waste. Surely you have something more for me?”

Mustering every ounce of lifeforce you have left, you tilt your head forward and spit in his face.

He’s visibly irritated at first, but smiles as he wipes his hand, sweeping up the spittle on his cheek.

“Ahh, just what we needed.” he says, smearing your own saliva over your entrance.

Taking himself in hand, he lines himself up, with one hand while gripping your throat with the other. Sirens begin to wail, lights flashing around the perimeter of the room- their warning akin to the death cry of a purrgil whale. He looks around, angered by the ill-timed disruption, deciding what course to take. The communicator on his forearm alights- a perturbed Gideon on the other end of the audio.

“Are you finished? We could use your assistance below. There’s a convoy attempting to board.”

He stares back at you with those vivid gray eyes, silently debating what course of action to take. Dropping his dick, he holds down the communicator to answer back.

“You’re a fucking Moff. Since when are a few pirates a threat to this ship? Handle it yourself or use the fucking dark troopers, that’s what they’re there for isn’t it?” He rips off the communicator, tossing it across the room as he stares down at you. With the distraction, you can feel the pressure of his force loosen on your arms.

“Time to make a baby then, innit?”

Taking himself back in hand with a few strokes, he resumes his grip on your neck, meant to hold you in place. Your hands seize on his plated forearms in an attempt to pry him loose- to no avail. He doesn’t budge an inch. A distinctive buzzing sound ignites, rising in pitch, followed by the static crackle of electricity just as a luminous red light protrudes out from the center of his chest, inches above your face. He stares down at it in confusion before looking back to you for the answer. His grip on your neck loosens, just as the blade retracts, with another whirring sound. All light fades from his eyes as the dead weight of his body falls onto your chest. You struggle to throw him off until it seemingly disappears as his lifeless corpse is tossed aside to reveal the other Sith- the one who insisted on bringing you food and clothes.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” he says, slowly removing his hood to reveal his face.

He holds out his hand for you to take. You ignore it as your whole body wracks with a shiver, processing everything that just happened.

“It’s ok, I’m not here to hurt you, I’m going to get you out of here.”

With no other choice, you make the decision to trust him- letting him take your hand. He pulls you up into a sitting position, as you scramble to find your discarded clothes. He hands you your pants, before turning away to offer you privacy, kicking your boots toward you at the same time. With no strength to stand, you thread your feet into the legs, and lay back on the floor in an attempt to shimmy them up your body. The maneuvering is taxing. Hearing your struggle, he comes down on bended knee at your side.

“Let me help you with this?” he asks.

You nod your head yes, aware that he’s likely already seen everything there was to see anyway. He seems decent enough, and if he had any intentions on picking up where the other guy left off, getting your pants back on wouldn’t be priority number one.

Using your feet as leverage against the floor, you lift your bottom so he can tug your pants up for you. Before you can say a word, he’s already putting your feet into your boots and tying up the laces.

“Can you walk? We need to move quickly.” He removes his cape, throwing it around your shoulders.

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

You attempt to stand up, but your knees are too weak to hold you up and your legs give out. He catches you before you hit the ground, scooping you up into his arms.

“You’re going to have to trust me." 

“Why are you helping me? You’re a Sith, aren't you? Isn’t this treason to the Empire?

“I was once, a long time ago. Now- I’m not really sure what I am.”

Looping an arm around his neck, you hold on as he walks out of the blast doors.

“I don’t really know what I am either.” you admit.

"Look whipped.” he says. Easy enough. Whatever the fine line between awake and passed out was, that's where you currently resided. 

The sirens continue to blast, echoing down the gangway. Several troopers pass, assuming he’s delivering the injured prisoner back to her cell. He walks with intent, daring any of them to question what he’s doing.

“Are the sirens your doing?”

“No, actually. Just a fortuitous distraction. Gideon has many enemies and we’re taking advantage of it.” He proceeds to walk down the corridor.

“I don’t understand, if you’re no longer Sith, then what are you doing here?”

“I guess you could say, the light called me back some time ago, but I found myself in a rather advantageous position. It was a rare opportunity to have someone on this inside. For the past three years, I’ve been infiltrating the Dark Trooper program, readying to take it down. All roads have led to Gideon, and when I received an invitation to his ship, it seemed like it was finally going to happen. I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”

Light and Dark. Sith and Jedi. It was all so confusing.

“So, what’s the plan exactly?”

“Gideon’s dealing with a breach. While he does that, we’ll simply head down to my ship. If we’re stopped along the way, I’ll say I’m ‘protecting the vessel’ from enemy threat.”

“So, just walk right out the back door, in plain sight? I admire your spirit. How long do we have before they’ll notice?”

Another squad of troopers passes by in a rush, a few turning their heads. When they’re no longer in earshot, he replies.

“Not long. Though a band of Mandalorian mercenaries are formidable, if Gideon deploys the Dark Troopers, they’ll have the entire ship locked down in a matter of minutes. We need to get to my ship before…”

“Wait! Mandalorians have boarded the ship?”

“Yes.”

“Stop! We have to stop. They’re here for me!”

“You’re Mandalorian?”

“No. I’m not. I’m… He’s my….we’re…” You struggle to find the right words. You pull out Mando’s pendant from under the collar of your shirt and show it to him.

“He’s come for me,” you say. His blue eyes stare back at you, and comprehension takes hold. He nods. “I’ll take you to him.”

“No! You can’t. You can’t let them see you hand me over to them. They’ll know you’ve deceived them- they’ll know you’ve turned sides.”

“Gideon will find out anyway. If I take you to my ship and we don’t return, he’ll know I helped you escape.” Something about him speaks to you, and you suddenly realize what it is- He reminds you of your brother, and your heart aches all the more for it.

“You can’t give up everything- three years of this, for me. He needs to be stopped.”

“What do you suggest? There is already video of me walking down these halls with you in my arms.”

“Is there surveillance in the war room? Of what happened?”

He thinks. “I don’t believe so. Gideon would want all conversations in that room kept strictly confidential- no recording devices permitted.”

“Then Gideon will think I did it, you can fill in the blanks later. I’ll take you out too! Make it look like I escaped on my own.”

“No offense, but you can’t even walk. How do you plan to make this look convincing?”

It’s true. Only moments ago, you couldn’t even stand on your own. But knowing that Mando is here- here for you. That he somehow found you, like he promised he always would. That he somehow managed the impossible- it lights a new fire in your belly. Your sole purpose is to get to Mando, no matter what it takes.

You take a deep breath. “You’re going to have to trust me.” you say, repeating his words back to him.

You wait four or five seconds, until he walks directly under a light, where surveillance will clearly capture every move. Your fist flies out and slams into the fleshy spot just below his shoulder. By all appearances, it’s a weak punch, too feeble to even cause him to flinch. His brows knit together when he sees your thumb press down, before yanking your hand away to reveal a now-empty syringe. His head whips back to you, eyes full of question and then alight with a brief second of- admiration? His knees drop to the floor with a loud thud, his body giving way to paralyzed muscle. A second later, you tumble out of his arms as he comes to land headfirst, flat on his chest.

The abrupt fall was harsh, temporarily jarring your head. All the better to make this convincing.

You crawl back to his frozen form, where eyes that are still full of life stare back at you. His eyes look down at his side and back to you. He repeats the eye movement again. You search his person, until you find the hilt of the saber secured to his belt and take it. Though sirens are blaring, you can’t risk mouthing a ‘Thank you’, so you stare back and hope the look in your eyes conveys everything you want to say. He blinks once, and you take that as a sign that he does. You make a mental note to pray to the maker that your paths will cross again one day, and you might be able to thank him for real. But for now, you say a silent ‘thank you’ followed by ‘I am so sorry for this’, before standing on your feet and delivering him a swift kick to the gut; Before stumbling your way down the corridor on your own.

When the stomping of feet signal storm troopers are coming, you duck into an alcove to take cover. Closing your eyes, you press the hilt of the unlit saber to your forehead and wonder how it got to this point. You're in so far over your head. You take a deep breath and remember what’s riding on this. Din is here. He’s so close, you can feel it. All you need to do is get to him. Nothing else matters- not anything that happened before, not anything that happens after. All that matters is him.

You round a corner and make your way through two more halls undetected. You have no idea where to find Din, you’re both essentially trying to find each other in a maze. Logic says he’ll look for you in the prisoner cell, and since you’ve memorized the path to and fro, it makes sense to head back in that direction.

You enter a large open corridor. A tight gangway stretches across the expanse, connecting one side to the other. There’s a sixty foot drop on either side, with an open view of space beneath and at the sides. It’s eerie as hell, because once you’re out on the platform, there’s nowhere to hide. You move forward cautiously, heart pounding. When you’re about halfway across, two troopers jump out from the sides of the entryway, blocking your path. You ignite the lightsaber, holding it outward from your body. It comes to life with an invigorating electric hum. It’s terrifying- you have zero training with this weapon and the chances of you hurting yourself with it are probably pretty good; but at the same time, it makes you feel powerful and kinda badass too.

As soon as the troopers see the saber, one fires off a round from his blaster, in your direction. Sensing the path of trajectory, you lean your head back, narrowly missing impact. The beam fires past, hitting the wall behind you and sending sparks arching away from the now broken light panel. Whoa.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you shout.

The two troopers look at each other in question before looking back at you.

“That shot totally could have killed me! I don’t think you’re supposed to do that. Wouldn't Moff Gideon be really ticked off if you murdered his war prize?”

They look at each other again.

“Hellllooo? Sacred Vessel here. V…I…P prisoner, mean anything to you?”

They stand a little more upright, loosening their aim. One casually slaps the other on his chest plate.

“Bro, she’s right. Did you hear what happened to that one guy? He got executed for damaging the goods and he was just following orders.”

You edge closer as they continue their conversation.

“Nah, man. That’s just a rumor. He probably just got transferred.”

“Nuh uh, TK-737 saw it with his own eyes. Said he nearly yacked in his helmet because it was gruesome. Had to do body disposal.”

“No way.”

“I swear man. She’s telling the truth.”

“Thanks man, you probably saved my life.”

“Better set blasters to ‘stun’.”

In unison, they move to change the setting on their blasters. Not waiting, you seize the opportunity and charge. Technique and training be damned- you have neither. You swing your arm in wide arcs, paying mind only to not injure yourself in the process. Loud grunts and groans precede bodies of plastoid falling to the ground.

But there’s no time to revel in your victory, because where there is one trooper, there is surely more, and true to form, replacements come out from the recesses. You continue your rampage, blocking and even deflecting blasts back into bodies. They file in from both sides now and just as you are starting to feel confident, your arms begin to tire. You have to hold the hilt with two hands now, which means there’s far less power behind each swing. You tell yourself it’s a lethal weapon, and all you have to do is touch them with it. Don’t worry about cutting all the way through, focus on their weakest spots, as a graze across the neck or an artery is surely enough.

Bodies continue to fall and it’s a whirlwind of spins and plunges. Your body takes over, guided by feeling. You’re like a feral animal, fueled by a burst of energy, but eventually, slowly, the power inside begins to fade and you worry that there’s no end in sight. The troopers swarm like ants from a disturbed ant hill.

You spin around in a full three-sixty, attempting to take out anyone within arms reach. The first wave topples like dominoes, sending some of the outer ranks tumbling off the side of the platform. Just as you’re about to start pushing through, they drop aim on their weapons and begin a slow, quiet retreat.

Your chest is heaving with the exertion, your mind in doubt as you watch them step back. It could only mean one thing, and suspicions are confirmed when you hear a slow clapping echo off the walls from behind you.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

“Very Impressive. Though it appears the exorbitant amount of energy you spent executing our donor, has left you depleted. Look at you. You hardly have the strength to hold that weapon.”

You look down and see your arm is beginning to tremble with fatigue. You retract the saber, allowing your arm to rest.

“And yet, here I am…still standing.”

“Indeed. Though I fear not for long. Tell me, did Jax at least carry out his task before you ran him through? Or are we going to have to reschedule for another day?”

Tired of the conversation, you utter a simple and straight forward, “Fuck. You.”

“No, I think I’ll get someone else to do that for me. In the meantime, I suggest you toss your weapon aside and come with me.”

“Why would I ever?”

“Because if you do not, I will take it by force anyway. But if you do, then perhaps I will find it in my heart to take the Mandalorian on board into custody, instead of simply disposing of him right now. So, what’ll be?”

You swallow hard. You’d do anything for Din…but Gideon is a liar, and you can’t trust a word he says. You re-ignite the light saber.

“Very well.” Gideon says, igniting the blade he carries on his own belt. He activates his comms and orders, “Activate the dark troopers.”

“Nooo!” you scream with rage, charging toward Gideon. You slash through the air, your weapon arching downward. He easily blocks the strike, stepping forward with a swing of his own. The effort to block it sends you stumbling backward. He continues to push forward, calmly delivering blow after blow as you struggle to maintain your footing. Force power or not, he has obviously spent many hours practicing with his weapon. His swings are slow- almost casual, but each hit is powerful. There’s a cool confidence written on his face, as he knows he’s got you beaten. You try again to outswing him and deliver one blow- just one is all you need. When your right arm grows to weary, you switch hands- and the bastard smiles.

You swing wide, and a shock reverberates up your arm. Time slows down as you witness the glow of the saber in your hand go whirling through the air. It falls over the side of the platform and disappears below. As you watch, and your gut is hit with the terrible knowledge of the loss, Gideon uses the hilt of his weapon to deliver a stunning blow to the temple.

Two troopers drag you down the hall. You think you hear Gideon ask, “Where is he?”

“Headed your way.” The staticky voice over the comm replies.

You’re dumped onto the floor of your cell, landing on your knees, facing the doorway.

“Stand guard outside the door.” Gideon commands the two troopers. They quickly exit, the door closing behind them as Gideon curiously remains at your side.

“Give me visual surveillance,” you hear him say.

A projection from the ceiling shines down, putting several digital screens in front of him. On each, flickering security video shows a live feed of what is happening elsewhere on the ship. On one, you notice a band of Mandalorians, with several others, cutting their way through the corridors. On the second, video of the dark troopers booting up. Their systems come online as they prepare to launch their deadly assault. On the last…. Mando.

Your eyes are fixated on the lethal killing machine wearing Mandalorian armor. He charges through the halls, a man on a mission with one singular motivation. To get to you. He easily dispatches every storm trooper he encounters, frequently without even having to look. Blasts are fired, sent ricocheting off his armor. He doesn’t stutter one step. He’s an unstoppable machine, truly magnificent to behold- and he’s coming for you.

Your soul momentarily alights with hope, until you look back at the screen with the dark troopers. They fall into formation and begin marching toward the exit of the antechamber. Your breath hitches as Mando beelines for the control panel, just as the doors begin to open. He slams in a key and smashes a button, causing the blast doors to close, but not before a single dark trooper is able to pry himself through.

Battle ensues, and Gideon and you both watch with rapt gaze, to see who the victor will be. The machine is formidable, quickly rallying from all of Mando’s offenses. The remaining dark troopers pound on the blast doors, the integrity ready to buckle under the pressure. If even one more gets through, you don’t think your Mandalorian will survive. You look away when the machine begins to hammer at Mando’s helmet- each subsequent impact driving his skull further into the wall, encasing him in the surrounding metal. The smile on Gideon’s face is one of smug victory- until Mando surprises the both of you by igniting fire from his vambrace. The machine steps back, initiating its fire suppression system. Mando takes advantage of the delay and spears the droid through the neck, leveraging its head off with a spray of electric sparks.

Not skipping a beat, he charges for the control panel again and triggers the tunnel evacuation. The troopers are sucked into the vacuum of space.

Your heart sings victorious. "He’s coming for you next, Gideon.” you say. 

“Except I hold all the cards, don’t I?” he says, yanking your head back with a death grip on the hair at your scalp. He ignites his saber, letting it hover deathly close to your neck. Mando rounds the corner, where you recognize the outside door of your cell. He stabs one guard clean through his chest with his long spear before jerking around to snap the others neck. The security feeds disappear, just as the doors open to reveal your Mandalorian.

He freezes in place at the sight of you on your knees, Gideon’s dark weapon threatening your life within a few inches. You want to cry at the sight of him but hold back all tears. Something is about to happen, and you don’t know what. You’re certain that Mando’s the more capable warrior, but Gideon’s got you, quite literally backed into a corner.

Mando steps into the room, blaster trained on Gideon.

“Drop the blaster, slowly.” Gideon orders.

Mando does it, and your heart breaks that Mando’s not willing to risk you in any way. He kicks his blaster away toward the corner.

“Give her to me.” he says.

“She’s just fine where she is.” Gideon waves the sword back and forth in front of your neck, taunting Mando.

“Mesmerizing, isn’t it?” Gideon launches into a monologue about the saber, and someone helping Mando- apparently, they had already taken control of the bridge. You listen, but stare back at Mando, hoping, pleading with the Maker that you’ll be walking out of here together. Gideon continues to ramble on, revealing that whoever wields the weapon has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne- a powerful bartering piece indeed. Mando stares back at you.

You finally chime in, “I know baby, he sure does like to hear himself talk, doesn’t he?” you smile.

“You keep it. I just want my girl.”

Gideon looks between you and the saber.

“Very well. I have everything I need from her. All I wanted was to study her. She’s been gifted with very rare properties that have the potential to bring order to the galaxy.”

You indicate with the slightest nod of your head, that Gideon is full of shit, but refrain from shouting the truth. Gideon’s beaten- he knows it, which is why he’s resorting to desperate lies.

Mando looks at you.

"I see what she means to you. Take her. But you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.”

Gideon steps back, circling around to let Mando pass. Grabbing you at the elbows, he helps you on your feet. The tears threaten to spill over- how you’ve dreamed for months of being back in Mando’s arms. But you’re not home free yet. His gloved hand comes to your temple, gently brushing over the injury.

“Can you walk?”

For Din, I will walk anywhere.

You nod, staring back into his visor, in disbelief that he is really standing here, and essentially, he just traded a whole world for you, without a second thought.

Gideon slowly backs out of the room, he and Mando cautious of each other's movements. You step out of the cell, backing away in the opposite direction. Both men stop and stare at one another, waiting for the other to turn his back. Mando looks down at you. He turns and places both hands on your shoulders, slowly backing you up two steps. With a swift push, he shoves you back into the cell. The doors close, just as you scream out for him

You hear the now familiar sound of Gideon’s dark saber igniting, followed by the clashing sounds of electricity and metal on the other side. You bang on the doors, kicking and screaming to be let out. Each thunk of metal is accompanied by Mando’s grunts and the sound of sparks and hammering metal. Blow after blow, kindles your fear. Can Gideon’s sword cut through beskar steel? The sounds of the battle ensuing on the other side of the doors is maddening.

Suddenly, the black glow of Gideon’s sword stabs through the steel plate of the door. You lean in a backward arc, as the sword blazes a path, passing inches above your face. If it can cut through a solid cell door?

You pound your fists, continuing to demand your release. If you were on the other side, surely you could do something to help? But your safety always comes first with Mando.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you listen, unable to see what's happening. Mando’s grunts grow louder, the clashing of steel on steel, deafening, until finally…silence.

You listen closely for any indication on who defeated who, but don’t hear anything. A moment later, and you once again hear the electric hum of Gideon’s saber. Your heart stops. Waiting. Waiting.

The doors open to reveal a victorious Mando, saber in hand. You throw yourself into his arms and revel in the feeling of him squeezing you back. “You found me,” you whisper beside his helmet. “I always will.” he says back, making you smile.

Your reunion is sweet, but short lived. “Tell me about it later,” he says, and you nod in agreement. There’s so much to say, so much to tell, but not now, and not in front of Gideon, who is standing nearby, hands in binders.

You walk down the hall, side by side. Mando squeezes your right hand, tightly held within his grasp. In his other hand, he holds the dark saber, at the ready should Gideon decide to step out of line. Gideon walks ahead, leading the way to the bridge where the other Mandalorians wait. A woman, athletic in build and sporting a small New Republic insignia pin on her leather jacket, meets you in the corridor. She falls in line with “nice work,” happy to escort you to the others waiting on the bridge. “Mando, we’ve got trouble, incoming.”

You see Gideon’s profile as he turns to look over his shoulder. The smug bastard is smiling. Not good. Mando pushes him forward with a kick to the back of the leg.

As you pass through the halls, you realize where you are. Pershing’s lab is nearby. As you pass the door, you come to a halt, pulling against Mando’s hand.

“Wait, there’s something I need to do,” you say, pulling away.

“We don’t have time for detours,” the woman says.

Mando holds up his hand, shushing her. “You got him?”

“Got him,” she repeats back, indicating she has a watchful eye on Gideon with the blaster in her hands. They follow you in the room as your gaze sweeps over the landscape, until it comes to a stop on the cryo-freezer.

“What is it?” Mando asks, stepping up next to you.

“Me. Pieces of me.” you say.

Gideon chuckles behind you. “Go on. Why don’t you tell him what it really is? Why don’t you tell him the truth? Why don’t you tell him that you could be carrying another man’s child, right at this very moment?” Mando’s head swings to Gideon, who is all too thrilled to deliver such a verbal blow. Mando’s head turns back to you, seeking answers. Where to even begin?

You swallow a hard lump in your throat, searching for the words to even begin to explain what’s been happening on this ship- about Gideon’s twisted experiment.

“That’s right. Why, it was only moments ago that she was flat on her back, a powerful force user, between her legs…”

Mando snaps, and faster than lightspeed he is on Gideon and throwing punches. It’s a rapid-fire succession of brutal strikes, directly to Gideon’s face. There is absolutely no time for recovery in between and Gideon can’t even get his arms up in front of his face to block.

“Mando!” you shout, not really sure why. It’s something you feel too- the need to get some retribution for everything that’s happened. For the hurt, the pain, the time lost…for Halo, for everything. Obviously Mando needs it too.

Gideon slumps onto the floor, but Mando doesn’t let up. It’s a brutal beating- enough to make you turn your head away.

“Mando, enough!” the other woman shouts angrily, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps pummeling Gideon’s face until it’s a horrific mass of bloody flesh and sinew.

Mando reaches over his shoulder, pulling the steel spear from his back. He momentarily pauses to catch his breath, chest heaving from exertion.

“Mando, don’t do it,” the woman persists. But her plea falls on deaf ears. Raising both arms into the air, Mando strikes down, spearing Gideon through the mouth. His jaw cracks open as the spear exits to the side, nailing the man’s head to the floor.

You stare at him in shock. You’d never seen Mando so completely unhinged. Ordinarily he was just in his killings, often offering his opponents the chance to lay down their weapons and leave. In other instances, he was cognizant to make death as quick and efficient as possible. This was none of those things. You can’t imagine what he must be feeling, what he must have gone through these past months, to make him react this way.

“You’re right, the man talked too much.” he says.

He walks toward you and you both take a moment to just hold each other.

“Do you know what you’ve just done?” the woman says.

Mando loosens his hold on you as you turn to face her.

“It’s less than he deserved.”

“I have no doubt, but that wasn’t your call to make! We had a deal. I get to take him in alive, that was the deal! You’re not the only one he’s hurt. There’s a long line of people waiting for justice to be served.”

“This was just.”

“This was selfish! Those people deserved to be present when justice was handed down.”

“So let them know he suffered.”

“Don’t you get it? This wasn’t our deal. We had an agreement. He was already in custody. He was weaponless, his hands are in binders for Maker’s sake! This wasn’t what the New Republic agreed upon.”

Mando looks on in silence. You know it probably irritates him that he’s reneged on an agreement. Loyalty is of the utmost importance to him, but he refuses to apologize.

“You just put yourself on the New Republic’s most wanted list.”

You dare to look in Gideon’s direction. There’s blood everywhere. The man’s face is unrecognizable.

“Wait,” you interject. “The infirmary is the next room over, there’s an IT-O and a bacta tank. Maybe if you hurry…”

She looks at Mando to see if he’ll stop her. When he doesn’t make a move, she walks over to Gideon, and pulls Mando's spear free of Gideon’s skull. She tosses it to Mando- he catches it but makes no move to assist her otherwise.

“You better hope this works.” she says, draging Gideon’s body out the door, by his full-length cape.

“It didn’t happen,” you start to say. “It almost did, but I got away before it could. I want you to know that.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He says, pressing the front of his helmet to your forehead. “A New Republic prison cell wasn’t going to stop him from coming for you. I know- because it wouldn’t stop me.”

“I don’t think he’ll be hurting anyone now.”

Mando’s comm link comes on. “Mando?”

“We’re on our way.” he answers back, hearing the urgency behind the voice.

“Make it quick, we’ve got incoming. The dark troopers are attempting to break through the shields.” Mando grabs your hand and begins to run.

“Wait!” You say, pulling him to a stop. You grab one of the grav charges from Mando’s belt and slap it on the shell of the cryo-freezer. When the door closes behind you, an explosive boom rocks the ship, and you head toward the bridge, knowing that no piece of you will be left behind.

All eyes are on you, when you follow Mando, in hand, onto the bridge floor. It’s a little unnerving to see other Mandalorians- sans helmets, staring back. You’re not sure what exactly to say to them, as “Thanks for helping Mando rescue me,” sounds a little awkward, albeit true. So, you elect to offer them a head nod with the dip of your chin, and hope it conveys the sentiment for the time being. They return the nod, and you can feel one or two’s gaze linger with curiosity for a few more seconds. No doubt, they are wondering what is so special about you that they have all risked their lives to come here but based on what Gideon had said back in your cell, it sounds like Mando may have been able to work out some sort of deal with them that was otherwise beneficial for them to come along. A key to the throne perhaps?

“Where’s Gideon?” the redhead who appears to be the leader asks?

“Infirmary.” Mando answers, leaving it at that.

Something passes over her face that you can’t quite pinpoint. Frustration perhaps?

Mando changes the subject. “Can’t we shut down the troopers from here?”

“Not unless you happen to know the override code. Don’t suppose Gideon can be convinced to give it up?”

“He can’t talk right now.” Mando says, staring at the security screen.

Because you pried his jaw off his head.

A secondary alarm begins beeping.

“There’s no time anyway, they’ve already breached the hull. We need to lock down this room.”

One by one, tiny figures start aligning on the schematics, each identifying a trooper in the platoon. There are dozens, and your heart begins to race when you think of what it took for Mando to take down one.

“They’re headed this way,” the redhead says.

“Don’t worry, I’m getting you out of here.” Mando says to you, and your heart flutters that his first concern is still your safety. One of the other Mandalorians punches a button to seal the blast doors, and you watch as the extra set of precautionary doors close. Anxiety reaches its peak when all the Mandalorians put their helmets back on and train their blasters at the door.

In perfect synchronization, the troopers begin pummeling the door with the thundering force of mechanized battering rams. More goosebumps raise on your skin with each slam, unnerving you to the core.

If they break through…

The entire structure of the room shakes, their efforts now visible on the outer surface of the doors. They will get through, and although there are four capable warriors in the room, you are weaponless, and even if you weren’t, it wouldn’t be enough. Your heart saddens for the strangers in the room, for what they gambled coming on this ride. But mostly, you tell yourself that if you are about to die, you are happy it is alongside the man you love.

Just as the hammering reaches a fever pitch, another intruder alarm begins to sound from the console.

“An x-wing,” one of the women says, just as a ship flies past. “One x-wing?” another says.

There’s no response when they ask the pilot to identify themselves, but a small awareness you can’t describe starts to tingle down in your gut. Your senses are flooded by a series of intuitive emotions. Peace. Hope. Familiarity.

Suddenly, the room goes silent as the troopers cease their battering. Everyone in the room shares stares, questioning what the hell is happening.

You take a step closer to the monitor. A familiar voice, one you’ve not heard since that day on the rock, softly speaks to you. Only it’s not in your ear. It’s not words in your mind. It’s like your brain is writing a closed caption transcript for your feelings. The voice is Luke’s, and he says, I’m here.

On the monitors, every trooper diverts its attention away from you, and toward the newcomer- a figure in a dark hooded robe. He ignites a lightsaber, much like the one you stole from Flint. Though its unique color isn’t visible on the black and white monitor, you recognize the electric hum as the same.

The redhead whispers “a Jedi,” under her breath, confirming what you already know to be true. Mando spins around, startled by her words. You continue to stare, transfixed by both what you are feeling, and by what you are seeing on the monitor. The Jedi cuts through each steel battle droid, like a blade through tissue paper. It takes no more than one or two swings of his saber to dispense of each, and some he doesn’t even make contact with. He simply lifts his hand and watches as they are launched away or crushed under an invisible force he controls.

Every set of eyes in the room, silently watches in awe, at both the power and grace with which he wields it. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

By the time he reaches the outer door, there’s a trail of battle droid parts and shrapnel littering his path like a trail of breadcrumbs. Your hand absently touches the monitor as you feel the voice in your mind again. It’s ok now. And the feeling that surrounds his message feels safe and comforting.

You and Mando stare at each other. It seems impossible that anyone would believe that you might have anything in common with this Jedi- but you also know deep in your gut, that it’s true.

Staring into the T of his visor, you’re not sure what to say anymore.

He hesitates a moment, and then says, “open the doors.”

Nobody moves. Weapons stay trained on the door, and you can’t blame them. Three minutes ago, you would have said a platoon of dark troopers was the scariest thing you had ever seen. Now a singular being that defeated every last one stands on the other side.

Mando repeats himself, “I said, open the doors.”

When nobody makes a move, he walks past, to push the button on the console himself.

“Are you crazy?” one of the others says.

Mando drops your hand to step in front of you- shielding you until the very end.

Always protecting.

You take a small step to the right, so you can just peek around Mando’s shoulder. When the doors open and the smoke clears, the Jedi appears. He retracts his saber, holstering it on his belt. It’s both a clear indication that he intends no harm, but also that he perceives no credible threat.

When he lifts back his hood, you’re taken aback by the ordinariness of him. Handsome yes, in a boyish charm sort of way, but otherwise, he appears so…normal? Never in your years would you have imagined the man in front of you wielded such power. He’s not menacing or overtly intimidating- battle aside. He’s just…ordinary. Like me?

His eyes quickly sweep over the room, until he lands his sights on you.

“Luke?” you ask, wondering again how it’s possible you know it was him you heard in the dark, all those days ago. Mando’s head turns slightly, and you know he’s wondering how you know his name.

He slowly smiles back at you, confirming it’s true.

“Are you a Jedi?” Mando asks.

“I am.” he confirms, and then extends his hand to me. “Shall we?”

You immediately turn to Mando, a thousand emotions clogging your throat. Thankful that everyone is safe. Excited that you might finally have answers to the questions you’ve been asking all your life. Love. Pure love for the man standing next to you. And terror- for whatever the next words out of his mouth might be. Your eyes begin to well, because you sense it before he even speaks.

Mando pulls you forward to face you, and like a million times before, you wish you could read the emotions on his face beneath the helmet. Sensing the hesitation from you both, Luke says, “She is strong with the force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect her, but she will not be safe until she masters her abilities.”

You know Luke’s words will cut Mando, straight to the quick, because keeping you safe has always been the priority, hasn’t it?

Mando nods, and you know the decision is made, for all of you. You have to let him go. He’ll never be ok if he thinks he didn’t do everything he could to keep you safe. You have to relieve him of that burden, save him from the guilt. Your eyes begin to burn as you struggle to hold back the tears.

“Go on,” he says, his voice slightly strained. “That’s who you belong with, he’s one of your kind.” The words rip you apart. Not because he’s asking you to go, but because for the first time, you’re convinced he actually wants you to stay, and this is killing him too. You press your forehead to his and close your eyes as the tears fall. It’s the only way to say goodbye.

“I’ll see you again…. I promise.”

The fact that he speaks those words aloud is a comfort. You know this man holds true to his word, but the knowledge that fate might intervene with other plans, and prevent you from ever reuniting, is a hard pill to swallow.

When you finally lean away, you muster the strength for a half-hearted smile, and gently stroke the side of his helmet. You take a step backward, away from the man you love.

“Wait,” he says, halting you. His hand reaches up, catching the underside of his helmet. He begins to lift it up.

“No! You can’t.” you say, your hands covering his, stopping him.

“I need to.” he says, his hands proceeding to lift the helmet off. You squeeze your eyes closed, forcing the spill of more tears. Your hands fall away as you feel the rise of his helmet, up and off.

When you hear him again, it’s his voice, Din’s voice. No modulation. “Look at me," he asks.

You shake your head no, refusing to believe that he just gave up everything for you. You are standing in a room full of people, his face visible to all but you. You know it’s already done, it’s too late now, but can’t bring yourself to open your eyes and confirm it.

You feel the press of his forehead- this time, skin to skin, as he whispers your name.

“........look at me.” he says again.

And you know you have to, because he’s just sacrificed everything, and it can’t be for naught. You must give him this. So, you open your eyes and blink through the tears to see the most beautiful pair of umber colored eyes staring back.

All other life in the room fades away. Nothing exists but you and him and this moment. You reach your hand up to run the pads of your fingers over his cheek. Your mind begins to catalog the shape and feel of every feature, desperately attempting to imprint the memory of his face in your mind. The sporadic stubble on his cheek, at odds with the perfect mustache over his lips. The defined slope of his nose. The crease above his brow. The complete disarray of his hair, and Maker help you- the slightest indentation- a dimple on his right cheek. And when you put it all together, it’s Din, and he’s perfect. And although he’s never said the words, I love you, out loud, he is saying them right now with the expression on his face. Reflecting back at you, is all the warmth and love you feel for him too, written in that gaze.

When he leans in, neither of you is able to close your eyes- fearful everything will erase if you do. What might otherwise have been an awkward, open eyes kiss, is in reality, the most meaningful kiss of your life. It’s devotion. It’s warmth. It’s gratitude. It’s love. It’s goodbye.

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A/N: We are close to the end, but we've got one more chapter to go! Thank you to those who have stuck with me to this point. For those that are ready for this story to conclude, I think you'll be satisfied with the ending and yes, I think all remaining questions will be answered. For those that aren't ready for the story to end, I'm happy to say, I will be continuing with a part two and I already have the first 6 chapters mapped out, but more on that later....

Chapter character art was based on canon physical descriptions, though complete liberty was taken with personalities.

Sith Meditation played on loop while I wrote this chapter

As always, hearts, reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

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