Shattered - Part 2

Shattered - Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

Until today. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It doesn’t matter...”

“Yes, it do-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t...” 

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

“What did I do to lose you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N), it’s you.”

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

“It’s always been you,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about the Order?” 

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

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

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

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

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

You ponder once more. 

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

“You want to keep it a secret?” 

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

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

“Shut up and kiss me already, Obi,” 

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

“Another happy landing,” 

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powerpuff-bucky

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

Best Shot - Part 3

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

Word Count: 2456

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need a ride?” Connor asks softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not Will, Jay,” you say. 

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

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

“Enough of that, I’m home now.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, so I’m stupid then cute?”

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

“Make me.”

You will never regret saying those two words.

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

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

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

-~- 

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

But my were you glad you were. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-~-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that for?”

“To get you to calm down,”

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

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

No response.

“Jay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Let him go...” you growl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drop him!” you yell again.

“Put the gun down!” 

Exhale and shoot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Jay’s POV - 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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nocturnalherb16  weepingfestivalmentality  ikleesfiction  annaallicce  panaitbeatrice  shipshipshipau

Best Shot - Part 1

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of death, little bit of fluff, some gore but not too detailed, mentions of sex trafficking, poor description of medical terms.

Word Count: 1021

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

-~-

“Dr. Rhodes,” you say with a smirk. “We meet again.”

“Yes, we really must stop running into each other like this. I clean up much better then this.” he replies with a similar, flirtatious smirk. 

“I’ll take your word for it,”

“What do you know about the victim?” Jay quickly interrupts, a tense aura radiating off of him at your flirting. It left a weird feeling at the pit of your stomach. 

“We found her outside of Med,” Connor explains as he takes you both to the victim’s room. “She has blunt force trauma to the ribs and hips, bruising pretty much everywhere on her body. I need to take her to surgery to put plates on some of her broken ribs. There is trauma to her uterus and cervix, which leads me to conclude that she was being sexually abused and trafficked.”

“Poor girl,” you whisper softly. 

“Can we talk to her?” Jay asks.

“Maybe it’s best if (Y/N) goes first, she’s only comfortable around women at the moment.” 

With a simple nod, you walk into the room and close the curtain, offering the fragile girl any privacy she may have left. Before you can even begin to ask questions, the tattoo on her wrist reveals it all to you. A viper around a cross, the tag of Chicago’s most known sex trafficker. 

“Hi, I’m Detective (Y/L/N), I’m part of the Chicago PD.” you explain softly.

“Are you here to stop him?” a tiny voice erupts from the pile of limbs and blankets in front of you.

“Do you mean Quentin Diaz?” 

The girl slowly shifts towards you, revealing a broken, battered face clouded by a mask of tears. She slowly nods, her entire body vibrating at the very mention of his name. 

“Yes, I’m here to stop him. But first, I need you to tell me everything you know about him.” 

-~- 

You stand in the bull pen, looking at the sprawling board in front of you as the team tries to make sense of the wild goose chase Diaz has you on.

“He was last scene dumping our Jane Doe by Med, any ideas to why he could be there?” Voight asks, leaning against a desk.

“Maybe a trade for a better girl, or even just to dump her?” Jay says. 

“No,” you interject. “Diaz and his men, they own their women until they die. A dumping or a trade wouldn’t make sense. This sounds like they were using Jane Doe as bait.”

“Then that means they must have some kind of hide out or base nearby.” Jay says. 

“Alright, I want every unlicensed or abandoned building flagged and remotely searched for suspicious activity. Halstead and (Y/L/N), you’ll case any that seem like a hit. The rest of you, try to find any consistencies between the cases.”

You and Jay nod before quickly leaving the bull pen and heading outside. Jumping into Jay’s truck, you quickly load up a building you know on your phone’s map. 

“Already have a place in mind?” he asks. 

“Yeah, this place always seemed to suspicious to be abandoned.”

“Let’s check it out then,” 

Jay drives through the packed Chicago streets towards the building. Once he parked outside the building, a familiar face had already popped up. You immediately call Voight, his gruff voice amplified by being on speaker phone, but your thankful for the distraction of Jay looking towards you.

“We spotted Quentin outside of the building on Cherry and Mohawk. I think we found his hiding spot.”

“Both of you, get as close as you can to the building without raising suspicion. I need to know a way into that building with a clear shot.” 

“Yes sir,”

Hanging up on Voight, you quickly hide your badge in your belt, your gun in your waistband and put on your coat and beanie. Jay mimics your movements and quickly gets out of the car. With a shaky breath you prepare yourself for what’s coming. 

“You okay, (Y/N)?” Jay asks from beside you, worry and suspicion drawing his eyebrows downwards. 

“Always,” you whisper with the fakest smile you can plaster on. 

Just the smallest glace at his face and you know your reply has left him unconvinced. Nevertheless, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and holds you close to him. Shakily, you reach up and hold the hand that is slacked around you and smile.

“So what should we have for lunch, babe?” Jay says to you.

That word hits you like a punch to the gut. 

“You know I’m not that picky,” you reply with a smirk. 

Both of you cross the street, goofy smiles and small sounds of chatter along with laughter acting like a shield to the reality of your act. But still, you lose yourself in the moment. Pretending that for a while, Jay was actually yours. That he felt this way about you and that this was your life. 

The mirage is quickly interrupted when you spot Quentin walking straight towards you, his head pointed half to the ground but just enough to see your faces. 

“Baby, don’t look now but I think that’s your favorite celebrity.” you whisper. 

The secret code word between you two alerts Jay to Quentin’s presence. His speedy pace towards you fills your veins with adrenaline, ready to run, shoot, or fight at any moment. 

“Nah, I have my favorite celebrity in my arms right here.” he says with a smirk. 

Quentin gets way too close for your liking. You go to pull Jay into a hug to hide your faces, but he chooses a different method. Pulling his arm off your shoulder, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you. 

The mission fades from your mind, the looming threat no longer a worry. All you can think of are how soft his lips are, how calloused his hand are right where he holds his gun so tight. Without a second thought, your hands find their home on his chest, and your lips dance the same steps as his. 

When he pulls away, uncontrollable tears spring to your eyes, no matter how hard you push them away. You take a step away from Jay and quickly case the building. Simple back entry accessible from the alley way and a broken window you or Jay could easily shoot from. 

“Woah, (Y/N) what’s wrong?” Jay says as he notes the unshed tears in your eyes.

“Nothing,” you brush off. “it’s just the cold air.”

Pulling your phone out, you call Voight about your findings, Jay’s eyes filled with more worry and confusion then before. 

“Alright, get your asses back here and suit up. We have a plan.” 

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@shipshipshipau 

Part 1 - The Deal

Masterlist

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

Warnings: Violence, sarcasm, some pretty spicy angst

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

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

You were nothing.

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

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

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give up,” his static filled voice says.

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

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

“You’re a Mandalorian,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you need to know?” 

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

“You’re mouthy,”

“You’re clueless,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want her,” he replies coldly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s just Mando.”

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

“You coming?”

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

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What Could Have Been (Part 11)

Words: 1063 Warnings: Arguing?  A/N: About the requests I have in, (they’re 17 if I’m not mistaken?) I’m writing them, guys! I haven’t forgotten!  It’s just going slowly, because I work full-time in front of a screen and sitting down in front of another one after clocking out isn’t quite appealing. Nonetheless, I’m writing them! I’ll try to go on a writing spree this weekend, hopefully things will smooth down then! :) 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |  Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

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Something Is Missing (pt.I) | Jay Halstead

It’s part 1 of upcoming series. It based on my book, which is not finished yet so I thought that making it as little series will be better. The series will be something about 5-10 parts long and  I’ll update probably on weekends, but that can change. I’ll let you guys know. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Reader is Jay’s partner not only in work, but in private life. She has a complicated past and now she’s finding out things that she wouldn’t know.

Pairing: Reader x Jay Halstead / One Chicago

Author’s note: Requests are open.

The longest night in your life, or maybe just one of them. Struggling with breathing, and this awful feeling of not knowing where you are.

It was getting darker, everything seemed so strange. You heard a loud gunshot, scream and then nothing. Just silence, like at normal night. But you perfectly knew that feeling. It was haunting you days and nights, till you finally give up on sleep.

But it was only a bad dream. You woke up immediately, couldn’t catch a breath, tears streaming down your face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you sat on your bed, when you felt a touch on your arm. You were scared, that’s why you jumped a little when you felt it. Your eyes followed the hand, to meet your husband’s eyes. Jay was rubbing his face with the other hand, to make him more awake.

“I can’t sleep, sorry for waking you up. I’ll get some water.” he smiled at you and kissed your cheek. You didn’t want him to know what’s on your mind, so that’s why you went to the kitchen and just broke down in tears. You felt so tired and work was just in next 2 hours. Coffee was the perfect match for you for months.

It was 5am, Jay has set his alarm at 5:15, you had only 15 minutes to make you feel more alive.

“Good morning Chicago! Today…” the echo of radio went through the living room. You made coffee for you and of course Jay. He get out of bed right after you and went to take a shower. You were so thankful that he didn’t see you like this. Even if you were married, you wouldn’t him to know some things about you.

He saw this pain in your eyes, but you couldn’t show him how much afraid you are. It’s not a time, it’s not a place to show your emotions. Just not right now.

“You should go back to sleep baby as you said you’re not going to work today” he took the coffee you made and looked at you. He wanted you to take some time and finally rest. To be honest, you thought that you’re dealing with this whole thing by your own, but the truth is, Jay knew about everything. He knew about your past, your biggest fear and memories.

“Oh no, I’m going to work. I changed my mind and asked Voight if that’s okay. He agreed.” Jay put his coffee on the table and sat next to you. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you deeply.

“I didn’t think you’ll love to work with me that much after our wedding, that’s nice.” he smiled at you. God, you couldn’t tell how much you love this guy. He know you for so long, almost 8 years. He’s been there for you in the hardest times in your life. “I was thinking, maybe we should go somewhere tonight? Have a dinner together like the old times?” he asked.

“Sure. 8pm? We can ask Kim and Adam if they want to go with us.”

“I’ll ask them. Let’s go to make some breakfast.”

“Okay guys, we’ve got a new case. Already, we have 3 children missing and 2 womens killed. One of them, thank god, is alive and she saw that guys who took her kid, she hide so that’s why she’s still with us. They took her kid when he was asleep, we don’t know where he is now, but we need to find them, every single one.

“Wait, so you’re telling us that this bastard is killing their moms? Just like that? What the hell.” Adam almost yelled. This case was the hard one, every member of Intelligence took it very very personal.

Jay looked at me and showed with his head to follow him into a break room. He seems serious and kinda nervous

“What’s going on, everything is okay?” he gave you dozen papers. You looked at him confused, because you’ve already got yours, as Voight gave it to everyone. You opened it and saw your foster family’s informations.

“What is that? I told you to not take this case, it’s too personal for me.”

“They asked me Y/N and I couldn’t say no, they’re your family, they raised you.” Jay was angry at this point. He knew that taking this case can be painful for you, but at the same time he just wanted to help.

“But maybe I don’t want this Jay. I don’t want to know who my real parents are, I don’t want to see them.”  you gave him papers and stormed out of the break room. You thought that he crossed the line. First of all, it wasn’t a case for Intelligence, it wasn’t something that you usually do. Second of all, why your parents are looking for you right now? After all these years? It’s not the right time you thought.

Jay followed you to your desk and sat in front of you, giving you a cup of coffee.

“Look, I’m sorry. Really. But don’t you have that feeling, like you need to meet them? Or even know who they are?”

“If this is that important to them, they should have put their names in adoption files, but they didn’t. It’s been 20 years, they should have moved on like I did.”

“Okay, like you say. I’ll give up, but please think about it.”