#so when these people meet their maker they may be slightly surprised by their maker sighs and says

[the-ironphoenix]

Hey, as AO3 is still down, let me kindly remind you of the importance of donating to OTW (if you can). Their volunteers are fighting the good fight against people who want to get rid of one of the only good sites left, and our money helps keep them going strong and ensure that it is as well-protected as possible.

Also, wishing whoever took part in this attack a very there-is-always-a-rock-in-their-shoe, their-bathroom-towels-are-always-damp-and-smell-like-mildew, they-miss-the-bus-by-2.5-seconds rest of their lives.

[vaya-writes]

The Wyvern's Bride - Epilogue

When Adalyn gets sacrificed to the local wyvern, she’s a little annoyed and a lot terrified. Upon meeting the wyvern, she discovers that he’s not particularly interested in eating people, and mostly wants to be left alone. In a plot to save himself from the responsibilities his family keep pushing on him, Slate names Adalyn as his human Envoy, and tasks her with finding him a wife.

2300 words. Cis female human x Cis male wyvern (slow burn, arranged marriage, eventual smut). firefly-graphics did the divider.

Masterlist - Previous

Thank you for your patience. It's only been (checks notes) almost nine months. If it's not fresh in mind, I wouldn't force yourself to reread. The style of this chapter is slightly different, doesn't require much coherency with the rest. Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me this long, and I hope you enjoy the final installment of The Wyvern's Bride. No content warnings for this chapter. Unless PDA makes you uncomfortable xo

There are memories tucked away in each corner of The Wyvern’s Flock. The façade may have changed, but Adalyn can still see herself in the foundations of the building. She still knows the number of steps from the entrance hall to the doorways. The bakery where she’d received customers has been rearranged, a taproom in its place, but the kitchen remains, equipped with the oven her father had modified. She can see it, past the counter where Grace greets them and takes their orders. 

Slate holds Adalyn’s hand when they enter what had once been her dining room. It’s still a dining room, part of her is glad to see. The fireplace still burns, and there’s a new clock over the mantle. But smaller tables and benches fill the area. Where once walls had hung bare, they’re now decorated with paintings and tapestries. Adalyn is taken aback by how much colour they bring to the establishment. 

There’s a pause in conversation when they enter the room. It doesn’t quite fall silent, but people still stare as they sit by the window. Adalyn goes as far as to put her back to the room, to better blot out the distracting eyes. She’s not here to mind the gossip. Only to have lunch and spend time with her husband.  

Word that a wyvern had settled in the valley had spread like wildfire, and people had come from far and wide, just for a chance to see him. It had started with the locals. People trying to sell their livestock. Craftsmen offering skills. The young and unmarried asking after serving positions. 

Then word had spread further. Merchants had visited, scrabbling at the chance to trade from Slate’s hoard. Niche craftsfolk had come next. There had been sculptors (mostly turned away), glass makers (temporarily contracted), painters (generously commissioned). Then the jewel smiths, the weavers, alchemists, scribes and tinkerers, until Slate was referring them elsewhere, interested in single purchases and commissions, but not yet ready to hire every person with a trade who came to his door.  

With all the skill and money coming to and from the valley, it’s no surprise when the area goes through an economic boom. The area flourishes. The trade festival becomes renowned. Northpoint and Tuscany both double in size as new folk migrate to the region. 

The Wyvern’s Flock reflects this easily. The seats are full and the atmosphere is lively. Grace and Gwen have nearly finished paying off Adalyn, years ahead of schedule. As far as Adalyn is aware, the ladies have no regrets. Moving away from their families had been a boon to them both. Grace gets to run her own business, and Gwen gets to run her own kitchen. There’d been obstacles (refurnishing, family drama, local pushback), but things have settled enough that the women now run their business together without raising too many brows. 

People stare at Adalyn though. Or perhaps Slate. He’s in his demi form, boldly grasping Adalyn’s hand over the table, sharpened teeth glinting as he talks. She used to shy from the attention. Feel judged by the stares; grow defensive at the scrutiny.  

Adalyn squeezes his hand. 

Slate pulls back to retrieve some papers from his bag. He moves his chair around the table, so they can pour over the blueprints side by side. She doesn’t flinch when his hand comes to rest on her thigh, though her cheeks do colour with blush. The gesture is under the table, hidden from public eye, and they are married. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the touch.  

It still thrills her. A smile plays at her lips. 

They chatter about their latest project. Adalyn’s first draft of the stable, drawn almost a year ago, had been cleaned up and heavily referenced in the newer blueprint. It always fills her with warmth, when Slate takes her ideas on board.  

The project can’t be put off any longer. With the workers streaming in, they’ll need a permanent stable. A safe way to deal with the offers for work and commerce. Currently mail is left at Fleecehold for Adalyn.  

The path through the Spires is steep and crumbling; twisting and incredibly narrow in places. Adalyn can’t help but admire those persistent and skilled enough to make it to the castle entrance. 

Most don’t. The path is dangerous. People are attempting to navigate it with alarming regularity. It’s gotten to the point where The Wyvern’s Flock receives a stream of complaints about lost packages, twisted ankles, and near falls. She knows it’s beginning to frustrate Grace and Gwen, despite their assurances otherwise. 

It only reinforces the need for a stable. One at the bottom for travellers to stow their horses and swap them out with mules. And one at the top for the animals that complete the journey. They’re considering hiring a guide too. 

Because the couriers don’t stop coming. The work applications and correspondences don’t slow. Slate had built himself a castle. It needs staff to maintain it. And there is no shortage of offers. 

Adalyn strokes the back of Slate’s hand with her thumb. 

He squeezes her leg back, automatic, before stopping suddenly. He gives a rueful wince. “Was I getting off topic?” 

She smiles. “No.” 

“But I was rambling.” 

Adalyn rolls her eyes. “I don’t mind. You know this.” 

His cheeks tinge grey with blush, before he presses a kiss to the back of her free hand. “I’m sorry, I’ve spoken about nothing but work.” 

She glances pointedly at the blueprints. “That was the plan.” 

Slate shares a soft look with Adalyn, his eyes sparkling. “I love you.” 

“Yes. I know.” 

Slate straightens. Places his hand over his chest in mock indignance.  

Adalyn relents, grinning again. “And I love you too.” 

Slate puts away the blueprints. “We can revisit this again when the materials are ready. Will you tell me about your morning?” 

Adalyn had worried that she’d be left with little to do when she sold her bakery. That the kitchen in the Spires would only keep her occupied for so long. That she’d finish reading Slate’s collection of books, and grow bored. She’d been wrong. 

In the days passed she’s practically become Slate’s manager. And that’s just regarding how he handles construction. Half of her job is keeping Slate on task. Reminding him to finish buildings before starting new ones. Helping him prioritise. Making a hard copy of his mental to do list.  

It takes patience and understanding. Slate tends to hop between projects on whim. At first she can’t fathom why he’ll be lengthening the servant’s quarters one morning, and then building a hunter’s lodge in the East Forest by the afternoon. 

Sometimes he needs it. Needs that project rotation, to prevent him from falling to tedium. Other times he jumps tasks so he won’t forget his new ideas. It’s her job to learn the difference. To gently coach Slate back on track, to take note of his ideas so he can come back to them later. He seems grateful for the assistance. And she appreciates being deferred to. Doesn’t mind the extra work. 

Adalyn’s tower had been left unfinished. A side project Slate returns to from time to time, in between other buildings. A servant’s wing had been higher priority. Their staff require a dormitory, a kitchen, a dining area, easy access to running water and a path to the mainway. Slate adds to the quarter every month or so, as more staff are recruited. 

When she’s not helping Slate, Adalyn deals with administrative errands. Sorts the mail. Handles the budget. Manages staff. Somebody has to draft contracts and organise pay and give the hapless craftfolk wandering their halls some semblance of an orientation. Scatterbrained as he is, Slate tends to hire people first and ask questions later.  

They’d first hired a goatherder, one who was willing to double as a poulterer. Adalyn didn’t want to head to Fleecehold every time she needed supplies, and having her own source of eggs, milk, and cheese (and somebody to mind the animals) is one of the first luxuries she put Slate onto. 

While construction was still underway, Slate had started hiring crafters directly. Many he would source from the valley – several professionals, and the occasional apprentice. Others he sent away for. Until there’re a modest collection of people living part time in the Spires, commissioned to create and build at Slate’s whim before the next year passes. A smith busy with hinges, nails, and other iron fittings. Woodworkers and carvers to furnish the place. Niche workers from afar for the more lavish fixtures. 

Then Slate hires artists.  

Decorations are a must. If not for his rich tastes, then to help tell the many corridors and caverns apart. People to spin tapestries, depicting Slate’s family history. Tanners, to produce leather and fine furs from Slate’s hunting, working in tandem with an upholsterer to ensure that seats and lounges are adequately cushioned. Weavers, to create an ample source of bedding for the servant’s quarter, and spinners, to make and provide thread and yarn for aforementioned weavers and fibre artists. Until Adalyn is dizzy with the sheer number of craftsfolks wandering their halls. 

Some of the art comes from further abroad. A handful of paintings and tapestries are commissioned. Slate hardly has the need for stonemasons and sculptors, but he still hires a few. He decorates the halls in limestone reliefs. The scales and wings of his family are repeated motifs. There are also hints at domesticity here and there. Designs featuring the valley; carved sheep in odd places, and crops and foods in others. Patterns peaking from a wall in the kitchen, or near the garden doors.  

Mostly they’d hired serving staff. As Slate’s castle grows, so does the housework. There is too much floor space, too many oil lamps and braziers that require maintenance. Adalyn has enough on her plate without handling the laundry or the sweeping and polishing.  

She’s still the only person allowed to wander the Tower. Slate had deemed his horde too valuable; hadn’t wanted anyone else handling their possessions. Adalyn figures he just doesn't want anyone fussing.  

Next they’ll have to hire a stable hand. And look for a guide, to take people up and down the Spires. But those tasks can wait. 

Grace arrives with their food. Cheese toast sprinkled with salt and rosemary for Adalyn – who makes a note to try cooking it at home. And a haunch of meat, dripping and rare, just the way Slate likes it. There’s wine too; the ladies had a trade deal with Ivar’s brewery, and Adalyn’s visits to The Wyvern’s Flock are a rare chance for her to indulge in his reputed winterberry wine.  

Adalyn digs into her meal while her friend lingers, catching her up on the latest happenings. Adalyn doesn’t get to be social very often, and she’s grown to appreciate the comradery and tentative friendship that the Grace and Gwen have offered her. 

They chat about Lindel. The woman had kept in touch with Adalyn, writing regularly. She still lives with her family, farming and spinning with the rest of the women in her village. Her life hadn’t changed much in the last year, but being the semi-final contender to marry Slate had bought her some respect amongst the others in her village. Even if she keeps the details of the trials to herself. 

Errah comes up too. She’s still a bit of a recluse, shepherding in one of the smaller settlements. Neither does she write, though Adalyn suspects that has more to do with her ability, rather than her desire.  

One of Slate’s cousins had been checking in on her, and the occasional sight of the silvery wyvern has been a fierce topic of gossip. Adalyn listens avidly. Lune hadn’t bothered visiting the Spires. It’s apparently poor etiquette for one wyvern to visit another’s territory and not declare themselves, but Slate doesn’t mind.  

Adalyn decides to visit Errah. If Lune is attempting to court her, then she’d probably appreciate the hard earned information Adalyn could share about that particular experience. 

Gwen wanders over, and conversation turns towards business. Repayments on the building. Mail collection. Food orders.  

The sun sets and the stars wheel gently overhead by the time Slate and Adalyn leave. They walk the settlement for a while, and Adalyn is struck with the fond memory of when she’d given Slate his first tour of the area.  

The night grows cold and Adalyn shivers. 

Slate wraps his arm around her shoulders and steers her towards the courtyard. He transforms, without a care for who sees him. Adalyn can’t help but smile again, reminded vividly of the first time Slate had landed here in this form. The power he’d given her at his entrance.  

What’s with that look? 

Adalyn shakes her head. “I’m just feeling nostalgic.”  

She brushes her fingers against his scaled snout. Smiles up at him, before leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.  

He rumbles; a sound of contentment.  

“I had a nice time tonight. Thank you.” 

He doesn’t reply, nuzzling his face against her shoulder instead. His tongue flicks out across her neck, playful and affectionate. Adalyn yelps, before dissolving into laughter at the ticklish sensation. 

Slate lowers his head further. Nudges her side, more forcefully.  

Climb on already. I want to take you home. 

She nearly flushes at his directness. Feigns shock with a hand over her mouth. “So forward, Slate?” 

His huff sends a breath of hot air at her face, but he doesn’t otherwise reply. He’s familiar with the joke. It’s not the first time she’s made it.  

Adalyn kisses him again before climbing up. Jests aside, she looks forward to getting back to the Tower. To whatever Slate might have in mind for the evening. 

Once more, the shadow of a wyvern passes over Clearwater Valley.  

[tobythewise]

toby!!!! so excited you're doing this uwu naturally gotta request fenders, anddd the dialogue prompt of “You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” stood out to me <3

Thank you so much for this prompt! I want you to know that I’ve been thinking about it all week 🤣 I was super indecisive on how I wanted to go about it because part of me wanted to go full smut but instead I went head first into introspective fluff! I hope you enjoy! 💚

Written for @dadrunkwriting

Gentle, barely there fingers run down Anders’ spine and a shiver goes through him. His body is pleasantly sated, his mind practically blank for the first time since he can remember. He’s not sure if that’s because of the thorough fucking he just received or if it’s from being in the presence of Fenris’ lyrium but either way he feels content. He knows it won’t last but he plans to enjoy it while it’s here.

For once, he embraces the moment of quiet that’s meant just for him instead of planning his next underground mission or the next page of his manifesto. They’ll keep until tomorrow.

The fingers running along his back are soft as they trace the spattering of scars they find. There was a day that Anders used to be embarrassed by the scars left behind in his skin. He used to keep them hidden from Karl. He used to attempt to hide them while sleeping with other people, always keeping them under him instead of behind him. Now? Now he doesn’t see the need to hide, especially from Fenris who bears his own marks of past oppressors.

Anders still can’t believe he’s here, naked in Fenris’ bed. By the Maker, how did they end up here?

When Anders imagined this happening, it was always a heated arguement that instead of coming to blows, came to heated kisses. Or maybe a drunken mistake they’d both pretend never happened the next morning.

Instead, it was comfort given during a trying time. It was a slow build of trust. It was leaning on each other when the others around them didn’t quite understand what it meant to find freedom and then hold onto it so tight it hurts.

In the past, Anders fell quick. His affection would come fast and it would burn hot and bright. This time it took him by surprise, growing slowly over the span of years until it was a part of him, the same as breathing or the same as Justice inside him.

“May I ask you something?”

Anders turns his head slightly so he can look over at Fenris. He’s sitting beside Anders with his one leg curled up to his chest, the other laid out in front of him. He has one land on Anders’ back, tracing over his scars, the other outstretched on his knee. The blanket covers Anders’ ass and flows over Fenris’ groin. He looks so carefree like this, so much so that Anders feels tears spring to his eyes. By the Maker, he’s getting sappy in his old age.

“Anything.”

“You have thought of this, haven’t you?”

Anders looks away for a moment, biting back his first reaction. In the past he would have made a joke to break the tension or sent out sharp barbs to keep himself safe from being vulnerable. He doesn’t want to do that with Fenris. Letting out a long breath, his eyes meet Fenris’ once more.

“Yes,” he says honestly, daring to give Fenris a soft smile. “It’s almost embarrassing how often I’ve thought about this, about you. I would lay awake at night, aching for you.”

Anders stomach swoops at the sound of Fenris sucking in a harsh breath. Fenris’ hand on his back stills, his palm laying hot and heavy on one particular scar. A mark left behind from a knife into his back. That particular one coming after he was joined with Justice.

The moment stretches and Anders waits, for once staying just as still as Fenris.

As Fenris goes back to touching him, this time playing with the ends of Anders’ hair, he finally responds. “Don’t be embarrassed by your desires. We have earned our right to have them and embrace them.”

Anders smiles up at him, his chest warm with affection. There’s something beautiful about being with someone who understands the magnitude of moments like this.

He reaches over and wraps an arm around Fenris’ waist, forcing him to lay back. Then he flips over, hovering over Fenris. Not that long ago Fenris would have fought him, pushed him away, snarled in disgust. They’ve come so far.

“I’m in love with you. I’m not sure if you realize that,” Anders says softly, “but I want you to know.” He cups Fenris’ face, his thumb caressing his cheek.

“Why does it sound like there is a but coming?”

“You’ve suffered so much at the hands of mages. It feels wrong to bind you to me when I fight for the things I fight for.”

Fenris closes his eyes, breathing through his nose. This close, Anders can feel Fenris’ heart picking up speed.

“I knew your fight when I kissed you. My eyes are wide open. I know of your plight, mage. That did not stop me.” Fenris swallows thickly while Anders feels hope blossom inside his chest. “I would still have you, Anders. If there is a place for me at your side, that is where I want to be.”

Anders can’t stop his smile from spreading. He rests his forehead against Fenris’ for a moment before taking his lips in a fierce kiss.

There’s so much coming that Anders isn’t sure he’s prepared for. There’s a storm blooming and one way or another things have to change. Who better to change things than a man with a limited life thanks to the blight inside of him who also has a spirit of Justice inside of him?

But right now he doesn’t need to think about that. Right now he’s allowed to just be Anders.

[theflowerofpandora]

Herwì Syulang: Chapter 3

Neteyam Sully X Fem Na’vi!OC

Masterlist

Word Count: 3K

Summary: Quaritch is back... 5 years after the battle between the Sky People and the Sully Family alongside the Metikayina Clan, the exact battle where Neteyam was almost taken by Eywa. Seeking revenge yet again on Jake Sully, Quaritch massacres an entire Na’vi Clan in the Snow Mountains of Pandora - sparing one young Na’vi girl’s life to send the great Toruk Makto a message.

Warnings: Mentions of Weapons, Blood, Violence, Death, Swearing, Fluff, Soft Neteyam

Author’s Note: hi besties! hope your enjoy this chapter, the start of this story has completed kicked off now and I’m planning on doing a small time skip from here on the next chapter hehehe <3 (feedback, comments, reblogs and asks are appreciated!)

Laughter, chatter and singing filled the warm air as the Omatikaya people danced and ate – celebrating their leaders’ youngest birthday. Those that were old enough to, drank and young mated couples snuck off into their tents rather obviously. The campfire beside kelutral (hometree) was huge and emitted heat in the surrounding area.

When Herwìva arrived with ¾ Sully siblings and they were greeted by the latter’s parents She couldn’t help but cower slightly at meeting Neytiri. She was far more to be feared than Jake. She had suffered through so much pain, loss, and destruction too and had built a family and new life with them. She was fearless, strong, and intimidating but had a soft nurturing side which took Herwìva by surprise as the Olo’eykte took her into her arms and embraced her, assuring the snow clan girl that she could turn to her for anything she may need.

Herwìva couldn’t believe how welcoming and understanding the entire family had been today and she thanked Eywa for sending Neteyam to her and leading her here.

She sat beside Neteyam and Kiri whilst they passed around a large, thick leaf that was filled with alcohol that had been fermented from plants within the forest. The strong, sweet liquid was easing her nerves and filling her with courage which she was secretly relieved about. Many of the clan members kept staring and whispering. Still wondering and assuming about the new foreign snow Na’Vi in their village.

“Hey big bro!” A voice called over to the three and two new figures approached.

Neteyam looked up and smiled before leaning into Herwìva’s ear. She felt his breath, hot against her as heat radiated off his body causing her to skin to form goosebumps. “This is our mischief maker and his mate, Tsireya.”

She let out a light laugh at the nickname he gave his brother, Lo’ak, and Neteyam relished in the ability to be the cause of the sweet sound escaping her mouth.

Kiri spoke up, “mischief maker is an understatement.” The three chortled together as the two new figures approached.

Herwìva took in the Omatikaya boy’s appearance. He certainly resembled his father. Beside him was a turquoise-coloured female Na’Vi decorated in various shells and pearls. She smiled at Herwìva and waved. A sense of comfort flowed through her at the sight of another foreign Na’Vi within the forest clan, and a seemingly kind-hearted one at that.

Lo’ak grinned as he saw the new girl between his siblings. “Hey, I’m Lo’ak. And this is my muntxa si (mate), Tsireya.”

Their hands were intertwined and Tsireya beamed at the girl between her brother and sister-in-law, “you must be Herwìva. It’s nice to meet you. I’m so sorry to hear about the great loss you’ve faced.”

Herwìva’s lips curled up as she stood, bowing her head slightly. “It’s nice to meet you both and thank you.”

“I take it Mr Perfect has been bossing you around since you got here.” Lo’ak hummed and narrowed his eyes jokingly.

She snickered as Tsireya elbowed his side for the comment and Neteyam scoffed. He wasn’t joking when he told Herwìva about their constant bickering. “He’s been more than kind, Lo’ak.”

Neteyam’s heart sped up at the girl coming to his defence. “Just sit down, you skxawng,” he huffed at his brother.

Kiri laughed, handing Tsireya the leaf to drink from but Lo’ak was quick to swipe the leaf from his partner’s hands and take a sip for himself. “Take it easy brother. We all know you can’t handle your drink.” Kiri rolled her eyes and he looked at her offendedly.

As Herwìva was about to sit again, Tuk ran over to take her hand in her smaller one. Tuktirey was filled with joy as she came over and Herwìva then knew she wouldn’t be able to say no to anything the young girl was after as she had a wanting glint in her doe green eyes.

“Come and dance with me ‘Wìva.”

She froze, wishing she could say no but couldn’t bare the thought of seeing the young Na’Vi frown, especially since it was her birthday.

“Come everyone, let’s dance!”

Her siblings moaned lightly in resistance, already comfortably sitting and slightly intoxicated.

Herwìva’s heart warmed at the siblings relationships with each other. She could tell that they were all very close and it was nice to see such a tight knit family. It reminded her of her own… something that she would never get to experience again. She would be forever indebted to them and their kindness for offering her a new home. She knew that it wouldn’t be easy and that she would never be able to fully heal from all the death and destruction she had faced, but there was a gentle voice in her head telling her that she would be safe and happy here. Eywa.

Laughing, Herwìva let the young girl drag her along. “Come on guys!”

Without a second to spare Neteyam stood up, shortly followed by the rest and they all made their way over to the large space where the People were already dancing. Kiri chuckled at her older brother’s urgency as soon as Herwìva told them to also join. This was going to be interesting.

The group began moving their bodies to the flow of the music, noises from the flutes and drums echoing around the air and encouraging their movements. Herwìva swayed her body to the beat with Tuk’s hand still in hers and she spun the younger girl around, making her giggle.

Neteyam tried to focus on anything but Herwìva’s movements. He found her captivating and he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or not but he was entirely entranced by her. Confusion encased his thoughts at how he had never been interested in another Na’Vi until he met Herwìva earlier on today. There was a sudden, undeniable connection between them both.

As they were dancing, unbeknownst to the group, the leaders of the Omatikaya People watched the snow Na’Vi with their gleeful children.

Neytiri eyed the interactions between the group as she spoke to her mate. She was trying to control her rage at the news of the Sky People massacring a whole Na’Vi village and leaving such a young girl with so much trauma and burdens to carry. “I don’t like this ma’ Jake. What if they followed her here?”

Jake sighed sadly, wrapping his arm around his worried mate in attempt to sooth her. “I know, but if she hadn’t come to us, we would have no idea about the Sky People returning. She needs refuge, she has nowhere else to go. So many lives have been lost because of me. The least I could do is try to give her a life here. And she wasn’t followed here either. Our tracking devices within the area would have gone off from their technology otherwise.”

Neytiri leaned into her partner, nodding in understanding. Her heart hurt for Herwìva. How could the Great Mother allow such a thing to happen? “Nobody deserves the fate that she had. Nobody deserves to loose their family and home so suddenly.”

Jake hummed in agreement as she continued to speak. “But ma’ Jake, please, this is not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

“They’re looking for me, Neytiri. Quaritch is after us and our family.”

She scowled, hissing at Jake’s words. “Then I will kill that demon as many times as I have to!”

---

As the night went on, the celebrations died down and the group found themselves back in Neteyam’s tent surrounded by the small fire pit and sprawled out along the soft cushions on the floor.

“Happy Birthday to our little Tuktirey!” Lo’ak drunkenly cheered as everyone else followed with a chorus of congratulations to the youngest Na’Vi in the room. Tuk glared at her brother’s use of the word ‘little’ and he cleared his throat to correct himself, “who is not so little anymore!”

Tuk snorted sleepily, “if this is what happened when you drink then I don’t ever want to do it.” Everyone laughed at the comment, words slurring in protest at how she would change her mind as she grew up.

Herwìva’s eyes caught a glimpse of one of the bracelets that hung around her wrist, and she felt the urge to gift it to Tuk. She realised that she may have intruded on such an important day in the youngest Sully’s life and wanted to make up for it in some way.

“Tuk?” She began and removed the bracelet from her wrist. It was dainty, golden wiring swirled around white crystals and it was something that she cherished a lot. “I’d like to give you something.”

Tuktirey turned to the pale blue girl beside her and tilted her head curiously. Lifting up the bracelet, it twinkled in the light and Herwìva passed it to the young girl. A gasp left her lips.

“Happy Birthday, Tuk.” Herwìva began softly, smiling. “To my people, the moonstones in this signify Femininity and are meant to bring us courage and help us embrace new beginnings. It seems fitting for you on the day your journey into womanhood begins.”

Tuk gave her a happy and grateful look before tackling the snow Na’Vi down in a hug. “It’s so lor (beautiful). Thank you ‘Wìva. I will treasure it forever.”

The other’s awed at the interaction and Herwìva’s kind gesture. The pair were laughing with their arms around each other before they pulled apart and sat upright whilst the group began chattering amongst themselves again.

Neteyam was sat on the other wide of Herwìva and he smiled at her, speaking lowly. “That was very sweet of you. I know Tuk really appreciates it.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the heat from the fire or the alcohol warming her cheeks right now but due to the close proximity of the boy who had led her here today, she could have guessed that there was a possibility of him factoring into her sudden rise in body temperature too.

Herwìva’s eyes fluttered over the future Olo’eyktan’s, taking in his luminescent freckles and large green glowing eyes. His action’s mirrored hers, eyes tracing over how snowflake shaped bioluminescent dots that littered her face and he stared into her icy blue eyes.

“Of course, it’s the least I can do.” She whispered and Neteyam’s ears twitched at the soft sound.

Kiri suddenly let out a yawn and groaned, leaning into Tuk. “Take me to bed.”

Everyone mumbled, nodding through their tired eyes in agreement and began to depart, bidding everyone goodnight. It must have been around the early hours of the morning now and Herwìva began to feel the lack of sleep overtake her body.

Soon it was just her left with Neteyam and he stood up with his hand out, offering her help to stand up which she gratefully took. Her limbs felt heavy, much like her eyelids.

Neteyam felt the coolness of her hand touch his larger warm one and he reviled in it. Her skin always felt so cool and calming against his and he liked the contrast, as did Herwìva. Although, they would never admit it out load to each other.

With her hand still in his, he lead Herwìva to the flap of the room she’d be staying in and she gently removed his grip from her. She looked up at him, his larger frame towering over her and she smiled softly, lips parting to speak. “Thank you, Neteyam. For everything you did for me today. I’ll be forever indebted to your family and I hope that I’ll be able to learns the ways of Omaticaya and find a place here to benefit the community to show my gratitude.”

Neteyam’s fangs grazed over his lips as he spoke. The way his name rolled off her tongue made something stir within him. “I promised you that you would be in safe hands here and I will never break that promise. You will adapt to life here and I will help you. My family understands what it is like to move to a foreign clan because 5 years ago we did the same.”

Herwìva’s eyes widened at the information. “Is that how Lo’ak met Tsireya?”

He nodded. “Yes. We are part of the Metakayina Clan now too. Every few months we will go to visit still and Lo’ak and Tsireya live with them but visit us every few weeks and for special occasions like today.”

The snow Na’Vi nodded her head in acknowledgement, the words the young warrior spoke were filling between the lines of questions that had been floating through her mind since she got here.

“Wow,” she breathed out. “That must have been a difficult adjustment. I’m guessing your family didn’t have a choice to leave the forest.”

Neteyam shook his head, continuing. “No, we didn’t. The Sky People took my siblings but me, my mother and father managed to get to them in time. They were after us then… and still out now. My father thought it was best if we left the clan to help protect our people and also our family. The Metakayina weren’t very happy about it at first and the Sky People ended up finding us. It resulted in a battle between us Na’Vi and the Sky People with their Avatars. I was shot and almost died but Eywa granted me a second chance at life.”

Herwìva let out a light gasp at his words and she frowned. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”

He let out a dark chuckle as he mentally relived the battle. “But it’s nothing compared to what you’ve lost.”

Herwìva reached out, gently stroking his arm. “Just because I have suffered more losses than you does not mean that your experiences were any easier.”

Leaning into her touch, Neteyam placed his hand softly over hers, their fingers grazing each other’s and threatening to lock into the others.

“You need to rest Herwìva.”

“Goodnight, Neteyam.”

“Sleep well, Herwì Syulang (Snow Flower).”

---

Blood. It was everywhere. Coating her pale blue hands as screams of horror pierced her ears and they twitched in fear. Herwìva clutched her knives in her hands as she turned around in the icy alcove, stepping out.

“TSMUKE (sister)!” The scream echoed in the distance.

Her feet carried her through the powdered snow, the snowflakes attaching themselves to her fur boots in the process before she skidded to a halt. In her direct line of vision stood a dark blue avatar with a harsh grip on her baby sister’s small body.

Wails and cries for help escaped the small Na’Vi’s mouth, “Herwìva!”

The avatar grunted, smacking the side of the child’s head and Herwìva’s blood boiled, eyes staring at the avatar with mighty fury.

“Mawey (Calm), Atríx. I’m here hì’I (little) tsmuke.”

She cried out against the tight grip around her.

“Shut it, you little cunt!” The Avatar then lifted a gun to the temple of the small girl’s head.

Dropping the blades in her hands and sliding her bow off her shoulder, Herwìva aimed her bow and arrow in a flash and the avatar grunted in pain at the sharp poisoned arrowhead piercing his neck.

“Son of a bitch!” He screamed threw the girl into the snow, legs moving and charging in the direction of Herwìva.

“TUL (run) ASTRÌX!” She yelled as she ran towards the approaching avatar, fangs bared as she let out a war cry.

Atrìx struggled to breathe and her body shook with fear as she saw the avatar suddenly stop on his feet, turning around and pointing the gun at her.

Before Herwìva could get to him, it was too late. An agonising gunshot rung through the air and Astrìx fell back into the snow, blood seeping into the snow around her.

---

Shouts and sobs awoke Neteyam. He stirred from his slumber, ears registering the noises causing him to shoot up and out of his hammock, crouching in a stance prepared to fight. It was dark still. The only light within the tents being from the last few lanterns that were lit but were slowly flickering out.

The warrior made his way out of his room and followed the noises to the leather flap covering the room Herwìva resided in. Anxiety festered within his chest as he approached.

“No, Astríx!” Another sob. “Run!”

“Herwìva?” Concern was laced in his features and through his voice. After hearing another cry he decided to lift the flap and was presented with the light blue girl thrashing around in her hammock, crying and calling out for someone who he could only guess was her little sister.

He inched closer into the room and cautiously approached her, not wanting to spook her and calmly spoke. “Herwìva? You’re dreaming.”

The yelling stopped and Herwìva perched herself on her elbows, sleepy eyes squinting through the darkness. “Astrìx?”

Neteyam sighed sadly. “It’s Neteyam. You were having a nightmare.”

At the sound of the Omatikayan male’s deep voice, Herwìva’s reality harshly hit her in the face and she whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

She was overwhelmed with sadness, pain and guilt. Why was she the only survivior? Why was everyone and everything she ever knew, dead? She had lost her whole life so quickly and felt like she was to blame for not doing more. Not trying to save as many people as she could. Her whole family died and it was eating her from the inside, out.

Neteyam moved closer, reaching out for her. “Don’t say sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“But it’s a-all my f-fault,” she began stuttering and placed her head in her hands continuing to cry. She felt his strong, warm and muscular arms encase her small shuddering figure and she cried.

Neteyam’s own pain grew within him as he felt Herwìva shake uncontrollably in his arms. She cried and cried and he held her, kneeling beside her hammock and whispering soothing words in attempt to comfort the traumatised girl. The wetness of her tears leaked through her hands and onto his arms and he only held her tightly.

“None of this is your fault, Herwìva. You couldn’t have known so please do not blame yourself, okay?” 

“O-okay.”

“I promised I will keep you safe here and I will. I won’t let anything else hurt you anymore.”

TAGLIST: @liyahsocorro​ @n3t3y4msm4t3 @pinkpantheris​  @chantellehissey @tritan-livs @megsthings @bookishaficionado​

[bruh--wtf]

Christmas Date

Peter Parker x Reader

Part 2

Previous Part

Main Masterlist

Summary: Tony’s having a Christmas party and tells Peter that having a date is necessary to come. Little does Peter know, Tony just likes playing match maker.

Peter Parker Masterlist

The Saturday of the Christmas Party, you saw May first. May had helped Peter get ready, and he was in his room when you walked in.

“Oh, my God, you look gorgeous!” May says. You smile, a little self conscious. You were wearing a simple red dress, that did flatter you, but it was nothing compared to what you knew you were going to see tonight.

“Thank you so much!” You say anyways to May.

“Peter! Happy is gonna be here any second, get out here!” May yells to her nephew. You smile and then Peter walks out in a simple suit. You still thought he looked as handsome as ever.

“Yeah, he texted, he’s outside,” Peter says, adjusting his tie. He looks up and notices you waiting and you smile at him.

“So, are we leaving?” You ask, gesturing to the door. Peter swallows and nods.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, Happy doesn’t usually like me making him wait,” he says, chuckling a little. You smile and follows him out to the car.

When they arrive at the compound, you grab Peter’s hand as you follow Happy. Peter looks at you, clearly surprised. You looks down at your shoes.

“Hey, you’ve been here before. And you know some of these people. I don’t.” Peter just smiles a little and squeezes your hand.

When they arrive to the party, it’s already lively. There’s the man she recognizes as Rhodey telling a loud story in the middle. A woman who she thinks is Black Widow with Hawkeye at the bar. She sees Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Thor sitting on a couch arguing over something. Though you assumed it was an argument like the ones you had with Ned and Peter. It wasn’t an actual argument.

Mr. Stark noticed you and Peter and grabbed Steve’s arm dragged him and Thor over to the two of you.

“I see you got a date, kid,” he says, smiling at you briefly. Then Steve smiles at you and extends his hand.

“I’m Steve, nice to meet you,” he says. You smile and shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Y/N,” you say. Steve nods at Peter after acknowledging you.

“Didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Peter,” he says. Peter opens his mouth but Thor cuts him off.

“Yes, you’ve done well. You have a pretty girlfriend,” Thor says, clapping Peter on the shoulder. You blush a little and you know it’s from both the compliment from a literal god and being embarrassed.

“Uh, she’s not my girlfriend,” Peter says, pressing his lips together. He lets go of your hand and sticks both of his in his pockets. Then Mr. Stark turns to you.

“Ignore him, he’s been around a lot. I’m now interested in you,” he says, pointing at you. You raise an eyebrow. He smirks and glances at Peter before slinging an arm over your shoulder. He steers you forward and you glance at Peter, but Thor and Steve immediately corner him.

“You like the spider-boy?” He asks. You raise an eyebrow at Tony Stark. One of the richest men alice was asking you if you had a crush on your friend.

“Spiderman,” you say, correcting him. Tony raises an eyebrow at you, an amused look on his face.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says, gesturing for you to sit at the bar. You notice the two you’d seen earlier start to pay attention to you.

“I know,” you say. Natasha laughs and looks at Tony.

“This the girl Peter told us about?” She asks. The man next to her turns to you now, looking slightly interested. You think Peter told you his name was Clint.

“Right. More teenagers,” he says. Natasha gives him a look, but smiles anyways. Tony rolls his eyes.

You were still stuck on what Natasha said. Peter told them about you. And he asked you to come tonight. And he was nervous when he asked. And you told him it was a not-friend-date. You suspected you were right before this, but how the Avengers around you were acting only confirmed your idea. Peter Parker liked you, and not just as a best friend.

Thank God.

“It’s an easy question, kid. Do you like him or not?” Tony asks. You can’t help but smile a little as you keep working through your thoughts.

“I do, but you guys already knew that,” you say. Tony looks amused again, and so do the other two.

“She’s more blunt than the other one,” Clint says, gesturing over to where Peter is still standing with Steve and Thor. Then you realize that no one else here seems to have a date. You look at Tony again and raise an eyebrow.

“He needed a date to come?” Tony smirks, glancing at his fellow heroes as he takes a sip of his drink. He doesn’t say anything and Natasha laughs a little.

“That’s what you told him?” She asks. Tony shrugs and smirks at you.

“Your welcome, by the way,” he says. You smirk right back at him and stand up.

“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you guys later,” you say. Peter smiles when you walk up to him again. You smile at Steve and Thor. They glance at each other and Steve glances over at Tony again.

“Uh, we’ll keep talking later,” he says. You smile a little and the two heroes walk off. Peter smiles at you and you smile right back.

“A date wasn’t mandatory,” you say. He glances around and nods, sighing.

“Yeah, I caught onto that too. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark-”

“Likes playing match-maker, I guess,” you say. He raises an eyebrow at you and you chuckle a little. “You’ve told them about me?” His eyes widen and he looks behind you at where you assume they’re all congregating. You laugh a little and cross your arms.

“I like you too, by the way,” you say. He snaps his eyes back to yours, and they’re wide when he does. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it again. “Not-friend-date, right?” You ask, raising an eyebrow and stepping a little closer to him. You smile at him and he smiles back.

“Yeah. Just a date, though,” he says. You laugh a little and nod. He smiles and takes your hand again. You raise an eyebrow at him. He smiles. “I don’t have an excuse.” You smile a little wider. “Come on, I want you to meet some of the others.”

Then he leads you towards more people at the party. But it didn’t matter that much what everyone else was saying.

You were officially starting to date Peter Parker.

Just in time for the holidays.

[foomoosworld]

Stars Too Far

CHAPTER 15

Spoken Like A True Warrior

Mandalorain X Fem Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian crashes on a deadly and uninhabited planet (or so he thought) when he meets a feral woman. They escape the planet by the skin of their teeth but find themselves hunted by every bounty hunter, thief and pirate in the universe when our reader becomes pregnant with a rare breed of child that may grow up into a menace that destroys the universe. But they still protect him and have faith they can raise him to escape the prison of the prophecies that chase him and put a deadly price on all of their heads.

MINORS DNI. 18 PLUS ONLY!

The house Bo Katan had offered was janky and looked diagonal in most views, at best.  However, you had managed to make a home out of it from the forgotten rags strewn around the space.  You picked wild flowers (and most likely weeds) and put them in broken bottles as vases around the premises.  You had managed to mop up most of the dirt and dust on the grey, splintered wood flooring with a rag on a branch as a makeshift broom and Din walked in to find you exhausted, Shy-Tan in your arms, both asleep on the couch.  His eyes scanned around at the meagre attempts to make the house look like a home and it warmed his heart, yet at the same time reminded him that he had been subject to a silent slap from his own people as he saw broken beer bottles doubled as flower vases for weeds.  You and Shy-Tan deserved better  than this, but in your current predicament, none of you could raise your voice in protest. The three of you had protection, apparently, but were still outcasts.  A maddening cycle that Din struggled to wrap his mind around.

He sat gently on the couch next to you and you moaned tiredly, clutching Shy-Tan slightly closer then slowly cracking your eyes open.

“How long have you been cleaning?”  Din asks softly as he takes Shy-Tan cautiously from your grasp and gets up.

“What time is it?”  You wearily ask, rubbing your eyes and blinking awake.

“8 PM.”  Din answers as he soothes Shy-Tan to stay in his slumber in his large arms.

“Oh, maker…”  You groan, “I’ve been asleep since six.  He’s gotta be hungry-”  You reach up to take Shy-Tan from Din but he raises a palm and motions for you not to worry.

“I’m gonna put him down and feed him.  You relax and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  He reassures you.  You are too tired to argue and sleepily nod your head as you fall back into the musty couch with a cloud of dust poofing around you and a loud exhale of thankful exhaustion.

Din grabs a bottle of milk and walks into the small walk-in closet you were using as a nursery for Shy-Tan and lays him down, smiling under his helmet as Shy-Tan gurgles in his sleep and reaches his hands up blindly for him.  He points a large gloved finger down at him and Shy-Tan's tiny fingers wrap around it.  

“You could never end the universe.”  Din laughs softly to himself as he repeats the warnings that so many people hissed at him. He pulls his finger gently free and replaces it with the bottle.  Shy-Tan takes it with eyes still closed and suckles hungrily.  

Din stands holding the bottle for him as his visor scans around the closet.

“One day this is going to be a proper home for you." Din whispers to Shy-Tan,  "Your Mom will make a mobile for you.  She’ll probably try and get me to help but I’ll just add things that make it look terrifying cause I’m not as crafty as she is.  But she’ll fix it.  You’ll get your first toy.  Proper clothes that aren’t made out of rags… We’re going to get more than this for you.”  There is an empty suctioning noise as the bottle drains and Din pulls it away from Shy-Tan, surprised how fast he finished it, “Well... you have a warrior’s hunger.”  He pulls him up from the crib and pats Shy-Tan over his shoulder.  “I’m new to this Dad thing but I think you’re supposed to burp now.”

There's a small hiccup then a burp and a sudden shock of lightning that shoots out of Shy-Tan into Din. 

“Aaah!”  He yelps but tries to stifle it as he attempts to not drop Shy-Tan in shock and pain. He suspiciously peers down to Shy-Tan, in his arms, who smiles, gurgles happily, then slowly closes his eyes, tumbling back into sleep.  Din notices that there is a glowing coming from under his rags.  He softly pulls the rag used as his blanket, down to see a glowing blue stripe on his forearm.  He covers it up again and holds him close to his chest as he gently bobs him up and down, trying to ease him further into sleep, staring at the grey splintered wall of the closet with some apprehension,  “We won’t tell your mother about that just yet.”

……………..

Din walks out of the closet and quietly closes the rickety door that refuses to shut completely.  As he turns to address you he suddenly stops himself as he sees that you have fallen asleep and the cover of night has washed across the room.  He sighs, disappointed for not being able to speak with you but also that he missed most of the day to run errands in the city rather than be with his new family.  Striding over to you, he’s surprised, you, who are usually constantly on edge, don’t flutter an eye from your rest as he approaches.

“Tired girl…”  He whispers and shakes his head slowly with a sigh.

His arms wrap warmly around you as he lifts you from the couch and carries you to the bed, lowering you cautiously down onto the mattress so as to not wake you.  He takes an apprehensive step back as you moan and shift slightly, but when you don’t wake he begins to take off his armour and flight suit then slides under the moth-eaten blanket next to you.  Depressurizing his helmet with a soft hiss, he places it on the rickety, wood egg box being used as a side table next to the bed.  You grumble in protest at the motions and noise, yet don’t appear to exit your blanket of sleep and nuzzle your face between Din’s collar and jaw, right into the stubble of his neck.  He breathes in a large gasp of comfort and slowly lets it out as his arm curls around you. 

He moves his lips up to the soft skin of your forehead and pushes a long, warm, soft kiss against it.  When he pulls away he sees you smile slightly in your sleep.

“You like that, tired girl?”  He teasingly asks, not really expecting a response, however, to his surprise, you slowly nod your head and exude a tiny, barely audible groan.

“You want me to take care of you? While you rest?”  Din tilts his head and stares down at you with a slight smile peaking across his stubble lined square jaw.  There’s a moment of silence, then you nod your head again.

He inhales heavily, trying to quell his excitement as his large palm slowly  traces from your neck, down your collar to your breasts that heave slowly with the weight of sleep.  Your nipples perk to attention under your loose, thin t-shirt and his large, callused fingers circle slowly and gently around them.  You thrust your chest towards him in your sleep and he inhales in excitement watching your body primally react to his touch.  Carefully, he pulls up your t-shirt to reveal your milky white breasts slowly rising and falling with restful breaths.  He hungrily, yet gingerly lowers his face to your nipple and takes it in his hot mouth and begins to feather soft sucks against it.

Your hips slowly and rhythmically buck as he teases your nipple until it is harder and harder in his mouth.  A small torpedo of pleasure rocketing up from your soft skin. Suddenly, a small drop of milk leaks into his mouth.  He pulls away shocked, at first, forgetting that you were producing milk, but as your body writhed at the loss of his touch he couldn’t help but savour the flavour and dive in slowly for more.  Milk flowed slowly into his mouth and he suckled hungrily, savouring the warm, thick liquid that flowed down his throat.  You hummed happily in your sleep as pressure was taken out of your breasts, giving you relief as he pleasured you at the same time.

He pulled up, wiping a drop of milk from his chin then straddled you and hungrily attached himself to your other breast, suckling greedily and wanting more.  Your milk flowed into his mouth steadily as his primal urges took over and he began to thrust his hips gently against yours, taking your rock hard nipple into his needy, warm, wet, soft mouth.

Finally, Din pulled away from your nipple with a “pop” and trailed kisses down your  rib cage and silky skin of your stomach until he met, hunched with greed, at your pubic hair.

He looked up and your eyes were still closed and fluttering half way through dreaming and awake.

Slowly he portruded his tongue and licked your already wet pussy.  Circling your clit.

That’s when your eyes opened.  You found yourself in the midst of ecstasy, surprised at first, but falling into the feeling like a rogue animal.  You grabbed Din’s mess of curly brown hair as he traced licks around your clit through his smiling lips.

“Good morning.”  He mumbled into your pussy without looking up.

“You’d better assume the sniper position and be ready to finish me off, my warrior.”  You groaned to him.

Din shifted his legs and arms to a lying position in between your legs, nuzzling his body down into the bed and between your legs like making a nest and paused his actions, looking up at you with his wide, chocolate, piercing eyes.

“Hold on.”  He grunted slyly, then dove into your pussy.

His tongue teased and rung around your clit, never quite touching it, making you buck and beg wildly.  He was savouring every lick, every flavour, every motion of your overheating, sweat dappled body as you bucked with begging and stuttering syllables.  

He pushed two fingers slowly into your opening, just to the first knuckles and could already feel you fluttering and begging for more.  Slick poured out of you that he lapped up like a man addicted. He slowly pushed his fingers further into you and curled them to find your secret spot that sent you reeling and bucking.

Stars exploded in your mind and all words were lost as he brought you higher and higher into space.

He put three fingers into you and slowly started thrusting them back and forth, getting you used to the stretch.

You arched your back and with wide eyes and an open mouth called wordlessly at the ceiling.  He watched from his position between your legs with dark and almost cruel eyes as he teased you and slowly fucked you with his fingers.  You grabbed his hand and tried to thrust it faster into you but he swatted your hand away.

“No.”  He said simply, then licked circles around your clit again.  emerging only to simply state, “I chose your pleasure.”  He demanded.  You arch your eyebrows still huffing and hyperventilating, trying desperately to chase your orgasm.  He merely smiles again, slightly, goes back to teasing your clit with his tongue and slowly thrusting his three fingers into you.  That’s when you feel his thick, strong arm pull you up and flip you over so you’re holding the headboard.  You’re unsure as to what is coming next as you pant with need.

You feel him pull your ass cheeks apart and spit on your asshole, then his three fingers pull out of your pussy and paint your asshole, sopping wet and slick with your juices.

“What are you-”  You ask looking back but he crowds over you and shushes you.  You bite your lip.

His finger slides into your asshole slowly up to the first knuckle, then his other hand returns his three fingers return to your pussy and begin rhythmically rutting into you.  You call out in pleasure as your eyes roll back in your head. Your asshole loosens and he pushes his finger in farther and farther, then finds himself soon jack hammering your pussy and asshole as you writhe against the headboard begging and screaming for relief.

“I want to make you feel perfect.”  He growls in your ear as you scream out,

“Din!  Oh, Yes!”   He feels all of your body clench as if he would never get his fingers back then flutter and you came a river around him.

He grasps you around your waist and chest before you lose the strength to hold yourself up from your massive orgasm and he turns you gently over and lays you down in bed.  

Your eyes are half closed again as he stares into them and gently plants kisses on your cheeks, forehead and neck.

“Tired girl.”  He says again with a slight smile.  You blink with heavy eyelids and a fulfilled smile, “Go to sleep, my love.” he shushes you as he strokes your cheek with his thumb and watches your eyes close again and drift off into unconsciousness.

……………………………….

There was a knock at the front door.

Din rustily crackes his eyes open from a deep sleep to see first daylight streaming through the dusty curtains and with a groan, reached for his helmet and put it on.  He dragged his waking body to the edge of the bed as the loud knock rapped again, anxiously.  He pulled on his flight suit and managed to shabbily get his armour on as he stumbled out to the front door.  When he opened it he saw Bo Katan standing on his doorstep.

“Well… I see fatherhood hasn’t done much for your warrior’s instincts.”  She snarked, looking at his obviously tired and thrown-together appearance.

“Enemies don’t knock.”  Din snapped back then motioned for her to enter.

She stepped into the shabby livingroom and looked slowly around at the dilapidated state of the house.

“I… apologise.  I was unaware the living quarters were this… rustic.”

Din leans against the doorframe of the bedroom where you slept and crossed his arms silently and unamused.  Bo cleared her throat and jutted up her jaw as she continued,

“We've caught word that there are imperial cruisers coming this way.  We can only assume they are for you and your…”  She trailed off and Din couldn’t help but notice her disgusted tone as she continued, “Family.”

“You’re asking us to leave?”  Din questions with an air of anger tinging his response.  There is a long pause as Bo looks around.

“I would like to meet the mother and the child.”  She states simply.  Din hesitates but gives in, understanding her stance.  She can’t protect someone (or “Thing” as she sees it) unless she knows it’s safe.

“She’s sleeping.  Give me a minute to wake her up.  Stay here.”

Bo nods as Din disappears into the bedroom and closes the door behind him to wake you.

As the door closes, Bo’s attention is caught by some sudden gargling and chirping.  She questions where it’s coming from until she follows it to the living room closet and cautiously opens the door.

There, laying in a pile of dirty, ripped rags in a rickety and splintering wood crib is a happy baby reaching up at her.

“Hello there.”  She tilts her head at Shy-Tan.  Shy-Tan gargles a happy noise and continues to reach for her.  She stands over the crib and looks down at him with an exhausted sigh of regret.

“You don’t deserve to live in rags.”  She says as she shakes her head and reaches a hand down, touching his chest, giving him a loving jostle.  His bright blue stripe lights up and he giggles at her.  “You’re cute... for a universe destroyer.”  She states flatly. Shy-Tan openly farts and Bo tries to stifle a laugh.

“What are you doing?”  Your voice rings out from behind Bo Katan.  She whirls around.

“I-I’m sorry.  I heard a noise…”  She stammered.  You push past her and grasp up Shy-Tan to your chest and shove past her into the living room a few feet behind Din, cowering down, clutching him, ready for a fight. “I-I wasn’t trying to hurt him…”

You shoot daggers at her with your eyes.

“I shouldn’t have put you up in this place.”  Bo sorrowfully raises her hands and shakes her head.  “It was wrong of me.”  You clutch Shy-Tan closer as Din holds an arm out to shield you from her and also stop you from attacking her.

“I was scared. For my people... and for myself." Bo admits, sheepishly.

“Yeah…”  You laugh in disbelief, “That makes two of us.”

“Why are you here?”  Din ushers the conversation along.

“I want you to come to the palace and I’ll make an announcement to the Mandalorians.  Introduce you and the child.  Because we have a battle on our hands and currently…”  Bo trails off and looks off to one side, “I don’t know if they will follow my direction to protect you.”

“Fuck them, then.”  You spit.

“We need them.”  Din snaps hushed to you.

“I'm 'poorly socialized' remember? Nothing more than a mongrel to them. That means, I don’t say please, I don’t say thank you, I just do what I want and if you want to work with me then you’d better have what I want.”  You snark at Din, but your eyes shifted coldly at Bo, aiming your comment at her. “And right now, you don’t have what I want.” You growl at her.

“Please.”  Bo says, opening her arms to you.  “We will protect you.  They just need to see you and know you won’t kill anyone.”

You freeze, staring darkly at Bo in rage then flick your eyes up to Din who merely, slowly, nods his helmet.

“I don’t promise I won’t kill anyone.”  You grumble.

Bo Katan nods, “Spoken like a true warrior.”

STARS TOO FAR MASTERLIST

[randomshyperson]

Left Behind - Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

Gif was made by my official gif maker friend @abimess

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses.

Words: 4.753k

A/N> It's been 84 years... I just hope someone still reads this haha Let me know what you think

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Series Masterlist

//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//

Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

When you wake up, you get your ass beaten up by an unknown woman.

You awaken all at once, advancing against the woman who was watching you sleep. Her surprise only lasts a second, however, as the next she returns your blow and knocks you to the ground, a gun pointed straight at your face.

Wide-eyed, you realize where you are and raise your hands.

"Sorry, sorry." You can quickly. "I thought I was in the lab again. Who the hell are you by the way?"

The woman raises her eyebrow at you.

"Cap, get over here before I shoot her."

And the next second, a blond man is running into the area of the ship where you are, looking worried.

"Let's all calm down, okay?" He asks as he sees the gun extended, and waits for the woman to put it down. You sigh lightly, rising to stand up.

"I'm sorry I attacked you, Miss." You ask as soon as you are on your feet, and massage your shoulder, which hit the ground hard when she knocked you down.

"It's fine, you just got beat up anyway." She teases, making you give a short laugh.

You were about to ask if they could let you off the ship anywhere, but a low groan of pain beside you caught your attention.

Just then you noticed the man lying on the stretcher next to you a few feet away, a large wound in his rib. You are also able to notice the rest of the ship, there is a man piloting a few meters away, and two men sitting further ahead, talking to each other.

"Hey, I can help." You stated immediately, but as soon as you moved, the woman stood in front of you, looking at you with suspicion and defiance, and you swallowed dryly. "I-I can heal him." You clarified, but the woman only changed her posture when the man next to you touched her forearm.

"Can you do that?" He asks you, and you nod. You wait for the woman to take a step back to approach the man on the stretcher.

"Hey, are you guys sure of this?" The man lying down asked uncomfortably, and you raise your hands in the air.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, I won't hurt you, I promise. "You guarantee it." Can I heal your injuries?" You ask and wait for him to confirm.

The wound is deep, but you have dealt with much worse.

"How did you do that?"

"It was nothing." You say as you put your hands down. His skin was completely intact again.

"This sure is cooler than lightning, huh, Thor?" Commented the blond as he sat down on the stretcher, clearly feeling better. The long-haired man at the back of the ship looks at you curiously as he stands up, and when he notices his colleague completely healed, he looks impressed.

"This sure is an interesting skill for a mortal." He says to you, and you don't know exactly what to make of those words, but you don't have time to comment, because he is already approaching to introduce himself. "My name is Thor Odinson, god of thunder."

You frown.

"G-god of thunder?" You repeat confused. "Sorry, is that some kind of joke?"

The woman next to you giggles, moving to sit on the stretcher next to the man you healed. The blond man in front of you looks slightly offended, but his expression softens immediately.

"I understand that at first, mortals may be incredulous at such a..."

"No, I just thought the title was funny." You interrupt the blond man, surprising him. "You guys are the Avengers, aren't you? My master has already told me about you."

“Your master?”

It is the other blond guy in the blue uniform who asks. You mentally repress yourself.

"Damn, sorry." You say. "It's what I used to call the soldiers and doctors who gave me orders."

"Your files say that you disappeared in Sokovia when you were younger, and what we found at the base were the records of the experiments they did on you." He adds, and you twiddle your fingers nervously. "I just want to make sure you're not going to try to bring the plane down with everyone inside."

The attempted joke is enough to make you smile, but you are beginning to feel overwhelmed. You really were free. After all this time, the idea seemed almost absurd.

You try to control your emotion at once, and the man seems to notice, because his expression softens immediately.

"Hey, come have a seat." He asks, signaling to one of the empty chairs, and you obey. "My name is Steve Rogers, and I promise you're safe now. Hydra will never hurt you again."

You nod frantically, feeling the tears in your eyes. But you try to normalize your breathing, not wanting to cry in front of strangers.

"I'm sorry, I just... I've just been trying to get away for so long." You confess next, wiping your eyes quickly. "It's weird to think I succeeded."

"We are going back to the Avengers tower now. Is there anyone you would like to get in touch with?" He asks, and his words make your stomach sink.

"Yes." You say. "But I have no idea where they are."

"Who? Your family?"

You give a short laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so. They were..." You start trying to remember exactly. You didn't even know how long it had been since the time you saw the twins at the Hydra base. You had no idea if they were alive, but you wanted to believe they were. Taking a deep breath, you continue. "They were my friends. Wanda and Pietro, we grew up together. They... I saw them once. When I still had the serum in my head. I..."

Seeing your difficulty in organizing your thoughts, Steve interrupts you by touching your forearm.

"It's okay." He says. "We'll find the twins."

"So they really are alive?"

Steve smiles.

"Yes." He answers and you feel your body relax all at once. "They ran away, I imagine they were scared, but we'll find them."

You gasp, unable to control your tears. Neither Steve nor the rest of the Avengers seem to care.

When you calm down, Steve introduces you to the rest of the team.

You are not exactly happy to meet Tony Stark. The mention of his last name makes you frown, because you know it was a Stark bomb that blew up your home at Sokovia, but when you accuse Tony, he seems really upset.

"Well, I guess you can get on the list of people who hate me then." He grumbles and you cross your arms, the whole team sensing the tension in the air.

"You could at least apologize for blowing up half of Sokovia with your weapons." You retort angrily, and the man rolls his eyes, not getting up from the armchair you were in.

"Sure, no problem. I'm sorry, kiddo. Happy?"

You clench your jaw, but before you can say anything, Steve steps forward.

"Tony, try not to be a jerk, okay?" The captain speaks and the other man lets out a wry laugh. "Have at least some respect for the girl's story."

"I have respect, Captain." He assures as he stands up, looking impatient. "What I don't have is time to revisit the past while our enemies get more and more powerful." He says and you frown in confusion. "I've already banned weapons production in the industries, and we've already taken on Hydra in that place. Now we can move on, because I need to get back to the compound and understand exactly what that thing is."

He speaks and finishes by signaling to the opposite side, and it is only then that you notice the shining scepter on the far side of the room and let out a surprised exclamation, taking three steps backwards.

"How did you guys get this?" You ask horrified and the team looks at you curiously.

"Have you seen the scepter before?"

"Of course I have!" You reply. "That's what gave me the healing! The damn stone went through my chest."

Thor steps forward, looking at you in surprise.

"So Hydra were able to decipher the scepter?

You laugh humorlessly.

"If by decipher you mean press the scepter against my chest while preening me in an iron chair, then yes." You reply, but take a deep breath to calm yourself. "A yellow stone came off as soon as the scepter touched me. And well, it went right through my skin. When I woke up, I could heal. But whatever it is, it killed all the soldiers who were holding me."

Thor seems to consider your words as Steve tells you that he is sorry for what you went through in Hydra.

Suddenly you remember where you first saw him.

"The man on the bridge!" You exclaimed, surprising him, but you were getting your memories gradually, and your heart was racing. "You are Captain America.... My god, where is Bucky?"

"Great, another fan of the metal arm." Tony comments sarcastically, but no one seems to care.

Steve looks at you with a frown.

"Is he safe? Is he free? Can I see him?" You ask promptly next, and Natasha chuckles.

"Hey, calm down." Steve asks and you swallow dryly, trying not to feel so overwhelmed with so many memories coming back at once. "How do you know Bucky?"

You blink in surprise.

"He...he didn't talk about me?"

It takes a second, and then Steve's eyes widen.

“Oh my god, you’re the guardian!

"I am what now?"

Steve lets out an incredulous laugh.

"The guardian." He repeats as if you were going to understand what he meant.

Natasha clears her throat.

"Captain, perhaps you'd better explain." She asks and Steve gestures quickly.

"We've been looking for you for months." Steve then adds, causing you to widen your eyes in surprise. "Bucky he... he's been trying to find you since he escaped. But he didn't know your name. All he knew was the nickname you got from the soldiers. The golden guardian of death. It's been our only tip to find you."

"I thought it was just golden guardian." Clint adds next, Nat makes a noise of agreement.

"No, I'm sure it was just Guardian of Death." Thor comments, but you are barely listening to the teasing, feeling your thoughts racing.

Steve raises his hands to your shoulders.

"Thank you so much for saving Bucky." He says before hugging you. You feel your neck heat up at the sudden contact, but do your best to reciprocate.

Steve lets you go then, smiling.

"He's going to be so happy to see you."

"Where is he?"

"At the compound." Steve replies. "He cannot attend field missions, it's part of the pardon. It's too much bureaucracy to explain now.."

"I think he's just lazy." Tony adds wryly, making the Avengers giggle.

And Steve's smile dies briefly.

"What's with you today, anyway, Stark?"

Tony sighs impatiently, finally rising from his armchair.

"I'm sorry if I'm not reacting in the way you consider proper captain, but I'm concerned about getting to work soon." He says as he moves toward you two. “I need to find out what this thing really is.”

"No, Stark, you won't touch this." It is Thor who announces, and all the avengers look genuinely surprised.

"I beg your pardon?" Stark retorted, but Thor didn't hesitate before he looked at you next.

"Describe to me again how you got your healing, mortal."

You sigh lightly.

"They locked me in an iron chair and brought the scepter." You narrated. "But they lie me on the chair next, and I could only feel the metal against my skin, and then I saw a yellow light. Something went right through my chest, and then right through." You say. "I blacked out for a second, the room was completely empty like a vision. When I blinked, it was back, but all the soldiers holding me were dead. And then they knocked me out."

"Before you said you saw a yellow stone?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I dreamed of this memory for several days." You clarify. "I was back in the room, but this time I watched myself. I saw when they put the scepter to my chest, and when the golden stone came out and went through my skin. It was the stone that released the wave of energy that killed the soldiers .I don't know why I didn't die too."

"A single blow that killed a group of soldiers at once." Thor mutters more to himself than to the rest of the teams. "It's decided then, no mortal must touch this. It's clearly far more power than anyone should have."

"This is ridiculous." Thor accused the next moment, making the team look at him curiously. "You can't just deny knowledge about something like that and..."

"Why are you so insistent on this, Tony?" It's Steve who asks suspiciously. Tony sighs, and gives a short laugh.

"You guys are unbelievable, you know." He says. "I'm trying to find new alternatives to our problems."

"What problems?" Steve asks with a confused grimace, and Tony rolls his eyes, looking nervous.

"Our enemies, Captain!" He snarls. "In case you haven't noticed, it hasn't been too long since we faced an army of robots coming from a hole in the sky!" He accuses. "We don't have the power to face this kind of thing. The scepter is exactly what I need to prevent the worst from happening."

"Where did that come from, Tony?" Steve retorted confused.

Stark gave a short laugh, rolling his eyes.

"I don't have time for this." He grimaced and moved to grab the scepter, but Thor stood in the way, arms crossed. "Really?" Tony impatiently charges, but Thor doesn't move. Stark clenches his jaw before declaring angrily. "I had a vision, okay? I saw all of us, defeated. Defeated because we didn't have the power to win. And I... I could have prevented it."

The avengers look as confused as you are, and remain silent. Tony sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

"It was New York again, but this time the enemy won." He continues, visually upset. When he lifted his face in Steve's direction, his look was angry, but his eyes had tears in it. "And you told me that I could have stopped it."

“I wouldn't do that.” Steve says. “If we ever lose, I wouldn't blame you, Tony.”

Tony gives a short laugh.

“Wouldn’t you really?” He retorts. “I’m pretty sure you would, cap.”

Steve takes a step forward, his eyes soften as he looks at his friend.

“I promise you, Tony. If we lose, we lose together.” He declares. “That’s what being an Avengers means. I’m sorry if I was not clear before, and made you feel any different than this or…”

“Stop it!” Tony angrily interrupts. You flinch because you think you saw a familiar red light in his eyes. “Cut this sentimental crap, Steve. I’m just trying to do what’s necessary here.”

“Back off, Stark!” You order as you noted how he has moved his wand to the scepter, he seems surprised by the action too. You move in his direction as he takes two steps back, looking irritated. You gave him no time to answer however, as you raise your hands over his head and touch his forehead with your fingers before he can complain.

Immediately, you can feel the remnants of magic on Tony's head. You don't recognize it at first, but as your own magic removes the other energy, you sigh slightly. It feels familiar, but you don't know why. The energy is still harmful though, probably due to the intention of the one who cast it, but you manage to clean it all up.

You succeed because you coordinate your magic to wipe the other energy like you usually clear and heal wounds, and it seems to work, because Tony raises his hands to your wrist, his wide-eyed eyes soften and he looks almost startled.

"I'm sorry." He asks and swallows dryly. You remove your fingers from his forehead completely, watching with curiosity. He takes a deep breath, blinking several times as if waking up. "I'm sorry, everyone, I... Damn, it was like a horrible dream. I need to lie down for a minute."

And with that he leaves.

You don't ask questions anymore, because Steve is going after him, and you are trying to figure it out why you still feel the unknown magic tingling at your fingertips, as if it is trying to merge with yours.

//-//

You cry when you see Bucky again.

He lets out a disbelieving laugh, and then he's running up, hugging you tight.

Your conversation is long and intense, and is almost mostly made up of gratitude.

The other Avengers seem very happy to see the whole interaction, especially Steve.

Tony isolates himself in his room as soon as you arrive, and Thor looks upset. He and Bruce discuss something, and then they go to talk to Tony.

You don't pay attention because you are listening to Bucky tell you about getting all his memories back, and living with the Avengers since you helped him. He was now free from Hydra's control, and was pardoned by the state on condition that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

Nat also added in his narrative the information that he and Steve were "making fondue" and the joke made him laugh with red cheeks but you didn't understand what that meant.

You are very happy to see him, but you can't help but think that he was not the one you wanted to find when you were free.

When he introduces you to the rest of the compound, and to your room, you hug him in appreciation, and you both exchange a knowing look, finally acknowledging that you are safe.

//-//

Your first night in the compound is a strange one.

After meeting the whole team, who were polite despite having fought you a few hours ago, you received a full meal and then locked yourself in your room.

But you were not used to having such a soft bed, not even before Hydra, so sleeping seemed kind of impossible.

Figuring that the Avengers wouldn't mind you taking a late night stroll, you left your room.

"Are you lost, girl?" A female voice suddenly sounded making you jump in fright. It was Natasha Romanoff, or as she introduced herself earlier, Black Widow.

"S-sorry, ma'am." You retorted clumsily, and the woman raised her eyebrows at you. "I can't sleep."

"First, I'm not old, so don't call me ma'am." She commented wryly, and you tried to smile. "Second, I know the feeling. If you want, I can distract you."

Your last social conversation with a woman happened a long time ago, and then you find yourself asking:

"Are you inviting me to have sex?"

Nat lets out a surprised laugh, crossing her arms.

"Where did that come from?" she asks, and you scratch your neck lightly.

"Sorry, I learned how to talk to women from television shows that Hydra soldiers watched in the labs. Bad references. What did you mean by distracting me?"

Nat laughed, impressed by your words.

"I meant like have some tea and tell a story." She clarifies, not sounding the least bit upset. You put your hands in the pockets of the pajamas you've been given.

"R-right. That sounds more appropriate." You mumble with flushed cheeks, eliciting another laugh from the woman. As you begin walking side by side, she comments.

"You know, I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with you around here. You are just as awkward as Steve and Bucky."

You end up hearing a story about agents in Budapest, but it seems Nat doesn't tell the whole story. It's nice, though, you missed talking to someone.

"That thing you did earlier with Tony, that was really cool." Nat remarks after a pause in silence.

You take a sip of your tea after shrugging, but she seems inquisitive.

"How did you know it was Maximoff who messed with his head?"

You almost choke at the sudden mention of the name and Nat's watchful gaze makes it impossible to disguise. You sigh.

"I... They are my friends." You confess looking down at the cup, "Or they used to be."

Raising your gaze to Nat again, she only seems curious to know, and you shrug slightly, deciding to trust her.

"We grew up together in Sokovia." You count twirling your fingers on the handle of your cup, "They were the only family I had in the orphanage. And well, it was for them that I broke into a Hydra building."

Nat listens to your story intently, and you swallow dryly before continuing.

"When they captured me, the serum, it... well, it didn't exactly leave me conscientious." You try to explain. "It was like pushing all my memories away, my mind would become completely empty."

“"Is that what they did to Bucky?" Nat questions and you shake your head.

"No, they used electric shock on Bucky." You return with a grimace. "With me, they couldn't hurt me permanently, so they needed something that would make me obey without me being able to heal. It was like being drunk, I guess, only much worse."

“I’m sorry.”

"It 's fine.” You say with a sad smile. “I was dumb enough to go there, i knew the risks.”

“Don’t say that.” Nat asks with a serious voice. “It’s was not your fault they torture kids.”

"And whose fault is it, then?" You retorted, upset, with yourself more than with Nat or anyone else. "My friends for being stubborn idiots? Of Stark for throwing a bomb in my building? I'm tired of looking for reasons to justify what happened to me. Nothing is enough, and I just want to see my friends."

Nat sighs lightly, and raises a hand on the table to reach for yours. You want to hold back the tears, but they are already falling before you can do so.

"I promise we will find your family." She assures you tenderly, and you feel your heart soar at the possibility.

You nod in understanding, taking a deep breath to stop crying.

Nat squeezes your hand, and it takes a moment for you to speak again.

"Wanda." You begin, and almost sob. It has been a long time since you have spoken that name. "She... She must have gotten her powers the same way I did." You say trying to remember everything you witness in Hydra at that moment. "I remember the soldiers talking about the twins being the only ones to survive the stone besides me."

"From Shield records, we know she can manipulate energy and Pietro can run really fast." Nat informs as she releases your hand. She sits thoughtfully for a moment."Maybe because you all got the magic through the same source, you can heal what she can do to Tony's mind. But that's not really my area, maybe you should talk to Thor as well."

You sigh lightly, wiping away the remainder of the tears falling on your face.

"I will." You say. "But I want to find Wan-the twins first." You correct yourself quickly, hoping Nat doesn't notice your flushed cheeks. She does, but says nothing.

"Try to get some rest." She asks as she picks up the teacups. "We have a party coming up, and then Thor is supposed to return to Asgard. I imagine you will want to have a little chat with Bucky before you return to Sokovia."

"I would go back to Sokovia right now if you ask me." You mutter making Nat chuckle lightly. "But I don't want to disturb any of you. I've waited for a long time, I can wait a little longer."

When Nat turns around after putting the glasses in the sink, she has a soft expression.

"You are not a nuisance here, kid." She assures with a smile. "We've just been caught a little by surprise with a new person, but it will be a pleasure to help you find the twins." She says and then has a mischievous expression. "I shouldn't tell you yet, but Steve is pretty excited about the whole thing. He wants you and the twins to join the team eventually."

"Really?" You ask in surprise and Nat just mumbles in agreement, still smiling.

She turns around on the countertop and before she leaves, she turns to you.

"If you ask my opinion, you seem to care a lot about both of them." She says. "I think that no matter how much time has passed, or if they are fighting on opposite sides, she will be happy to see you."

You swallow dryly, looking away.

Nat smiles one last time before leaving and you twiddle your fingers nervously, sitting for a while at the table before returning to your room.

With much to think about, you are surprised that you fall asleep almost instantly as you lie down.

//-//

The Hydra serum is still in your system.

You realize it in a rather embarrassing way actually.

After waking up on the couch, you went to the kitchen.

Bucky tells you that all the team is having a meeting and they will join you two soon, so you just lay against the wall while he reads the newspaper out loud for you.

The Avengers stay in the meeting room for a long time, and don't seem very pleased when they leave, but Tony seems intrigued.

You are surprised that he comes to talk to you as soon as he sees you.

"I didn't thank you for yesterday, kid." He says with a smile. "Whatever you did took away that bad feeling. Now I can work without having to hide that I'm trying to help."

You didn't quite know what to respond, but it didn't matter because Tony was patting you on the shoulder before smiling contentedly at the rest of the team.

"While I figure out a way to decipher the stone, which won't be hard since I'm incredibly smart." He begins his speech, causing the group to let out debauched laughter. "You guys can get busy with whatever old people do for fun. Except you Thunderlord, I'm going to need your help in the lab."

"Wow, Tony Stark asking for help." Thor teases and you watch the interaction with a smile on your lips, moving to join the table. "What a little magic doesn't do to your head, heh?"

"Don't tease me, Thundercat. I'll throw you out of this building, and you won't get any breakfast." He says with false seriousness and you laugh lightly as you pour yourself a cup of coffee. "Hey, kid, give me some too?"

"Ja, Master." You respond mechanically, perhaps even a little sleepily. The Avengers look at you with curiosity and confusion as they see you mechanically pour the coffee, and hand it to Tony, who looks shocked.

"He is not your master, kid." It is Natasha who breaks the silence, and you blink in confusion looking around for a moment.

"R-right." You say. "Sorry about that, Tony. Old habits I guess."

Tony thanks you for the drink, and you think the subject is going to die, but then Natasha keeps looking at you.

"Hey, Y/N, come over here." She asks and you move immediately. Shit. Natasha raises her eyebrow. "Take two steps to the left." Your body obeys. “Now to the right.” She asks and you obey again. This is terrible. The widow looks at you impressed.

"That looks bad." Tony quickly mocks before waving for Thor to accompany him to the lab, justifying that they should get to work soon.

Nat continues to look at you incredulously, but then Steve gets up from the table as well and snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, making you jump in fright slightly. He assumes a worried expression afterwards.

"You are obeying our orders as if we were your masters." He says. "Let's go see Bruce in the lab, he'll want to run some tests."

When you reach the lab, and Steve explains to Bruce what happened at breakfast, you are not surprised that he puts needles in your arm. You hope the news will be good when he finishes assessing your blood.

//-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-//

Tag List> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @aimezvousbrahms // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife

[kamino-blues]

Reunited at Last (Rebels!Gregor x Jedi!Reader)

Rating: Pg & Sfw

Warnings: Slight angst, the rest is fluff! Gregor is older due to this taking place during Rebels. Y/n is used (but only 4 times!!)

Word Count: 2,090

Summary: You thought that Gregor has been dead for over 15 years, how will you react when he suddenly comes back into your life?

Note: For the past week I have only been daydreaming about Gregor, so I had to write something about him! I feel like I've read every fic on here about him whoops 😅

You heard rumors of Gregor being alive, being found on Abafar and surviving an explosion from rhydonium barrels. There were mentions through different cantinas of commandos being gathered to work for the empire to continue training soldiers. Then it turned to rumors about how the clones were being phased out, how Kamino had been destroyed. It became too painful for you to bear.

It felt as if it was all a cruel joke being played on you, almost as if your past chose to haunt you until the end of your days. So you shut your emotions away. The once joyous person you were, full of life, was gone. You just went through the motions, trying to survive away from the hell of the Empire. That was, until you met the Ghost crew. They took you under their wing, and slowly helped you become who you used to be. You would never be completely the same, Gregor was a large part of you, but it was a start.

You couldn’t stop the small amount of jealousy from coming over you whenever you saw Hera and Kanan interact. The lingering touches, the loving glances, everything they did reminded you of how you were with him. The strong commando that had found a soft spot for you, who would fight side by side with you, who always had your back.

Gregor was your other half, but he was gone. So even if you caught yourself longingly looking at what you wished you still had, you knew you had to go on. So you worked for the rebellion, using your Jedi knowledge to try and help as much as you could. You couldn’t go out as Kanan could, you were too recognizable from the days you served with the Republic. So you were home base, staying back as the Ghost went out on missions. It was nice to hear the tales of what happened, and when Kanan found a new Padawan, it gave you a chance to practice with your saber again. Life was beginning to feel a little more normal.

As the search for a new rebel base started, you were put to work. They had you searching through countless manifests and artifacts, trying to find something that could be used. You were constantly on your datapad, scouring, searching for anything. But it was to no avail, you just didn’t have the resources to find what was needed. That was until Fulcrum came along.

You weren’t told much, but as the Ghost flew away, you had confidence that something would come out of it. It had been weeks, going on a month as you waited for a comm telling you if a new base had been found. So you kept yourself busy. Lightsaber training, studying, working out, meditation, anything to keep your mind from drifting.

It was midday during saber training when you felt your wrist buzz, and you quickly tapped on your comm, it fizzing to life.

“Y/n, come to the hangar, I think you want to see this.” You heard Hera’s voice crackle out, and you couldn’t help the confusion falling onto your face. The mission was to find a base, why would there be something to see in the hangar? Your mind was scouring the possibilities, trying to figure out what in the maker's name Hera could be talking about.

“I’m on my way Hera, I’ll be there in a few. Can I ask what you are going to show me?” You let out as you clipped your lightsaber to your belt, adjusting your outfit as you started to walk to the hangar.

“It’s better as a surprise, you better hurry!” You heard Hera click off the comm, and you shook your head. The walk seemed longer than normal, your curiosity consuming your brain as you quickened your step.

The doors to the hangar slid open, you carefully stepping through as you spotted Hera coming down the ramp of the Ghost. She gave you a small wave, walking towards you with a pleased smile on her face.

“I take it you found a base?” You let out as she got closer. Hera’s smile faltered, but she rested her hand on your shoulder.

“Not exactly, but we did find some people who have information to help us find one.” You couldn’t help but tilt your head in confusion, raising an eyebrow. Hera laughed at this, her squeezing your shoulder before letting go. “The rest of the crew is meeting with Commander Sato, along with the informants. I’m going to be heading there, but I want you to stay here ok?”

“I’m not needed at the meeting? Is there something wrong with the ship that needs to be fixed?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking questions. This whole exchange was just, strange, that was the only way you could put it. Hera shook her head, a smile crawling onto her face.

“I need you to meet with one of the informants one on one, he’ll be leaving the meeting early to reconvene with you. Trust me,” There was a look in Hera’s eyes that you couldn’t place, and you couldn’t help but nod. She gave you one last smile before leaving the hangar, the door sliding shut behind her.

You climbed onto one of the many crates in the hangar, your legs dangling off the side of it. You were going over Hera’s words, trying to get a sense of what is even happening. You ended up closing your eyes, slipping into a light meditation. It was some time before you heard a door slide open across from where you were, hearing footsteps move into the room before stopping.

“Y/n?” Your body stiffened, eyes opening wide as you stared at the figure from across the hangar. That was the voice of those you had worked beside during the Clone Wars. The voice of those who had turned against the Republic, who killed countless of your friends. But the clone's voice was soft, and it almost sounded like- but it couldn’t be, he had died, there’s no way it was him.

You jumped down from the crate, your hand on your saber as you cautiously made your way towards the clone. You were still too far away to see his eyes, but as you moved closer you had to stop tears from filling your eyes. He saw your hand on your lightsaber, and he put his hands out. He was dressed in a tank top, with a logo that you had never seen before.

“Y/n, cyare, it's me, it's Gregor! It’s been a long time hasn’t it?” He let out a little giggle, yet his face was completely serious. You couldn’t help your hands from shaking.

“That can’t, that isn’t possible! Gregor died, how could he be here?” The tears slipped from your eyes, and you came to a stop right in front of him. Gregor reached out to you, hesitating, before bringing his hand down. You could see his eyes tearing up, and you couldn’t help but have deja vu to the evenings after long missions, missions filled with high fatality rates. He may be a commando, but he was still human, and he had trusted you to see the emotional side of him.

“I survived y/n.” There was so much about him that was different, but he was the same. You knew it was him, but you couldn't help but deny it.

But why was Hera determined to get you to stay behind at the hangar? She was the only one you confided in about Gregor, she knew how much he meant to you. Hera had seen pictures of him, she had heard how you described him. The doubt in your mind was slowly shrinking, the barriers falling down. You could feel in the force his energy, Gregor's energy, something you never thought that you would feel again.

Gregor's voice was different, and so were some of his mannerisms, but his eyes were the same, his smile was the same. It was your Gregor, who you could tell has gone through a lot since you both separated over 15 years ago.

15 years, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt your body shaking, legs giving out underneath you as it clicked in your brain that Gregor was alive. You felt his arms grab you quickly, wrapping around you as he slowly lowered both of you to the ground. The hug was softer, yet still had the same feel as it did all that time ago.

“Gregor, it’s you, makers above it’s really you,” You mumbled into his shoulder, and you felt his arms tighten around you. Gregor’s chest rumbled as a few stray giggles fell from his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head.

You slowly moved your arms around him, finally returning the hug that Gregor had you in. You felt his body relax slightly, holding you there.

“I have so many stories my sunshine, you couldn’t believe the things that have happened! I survived two explosions-“ Gregor started to go over all the events that you had missed, you curling against his body to rest the side of your head against his chest. He had one arm wrapped around your back, his other moving around as he talked. You ended up shifting your arms so that you could hold onto your legs, eyes focused on his face as you looked over every detail on his weathered skin. He looked so different, yet he was the same.

“I had lost my memory until a squad of droids, ha can you even believe that?, managed to stir up all my memories by showing me a holo of Rex! Cyare you couldn’t imagine my panic, the first thing I thought of was of you. I just, I wasn’t able to get back because I was knocked out by an explosion,” You felt him move his arm to rub the back of his neck, looking away sheepishly. “It’s kinda how I became the way I am now ya know?”

Reaching up with your hand, you let it hover a few centimeters from his face, looking for his reaction. Gregor leaned against it, his eyes on you with a large grin plastered on his face.

“I never stopped looking for you, even after the Republic fell, I kept searching. I was sent to train storm troopers as a commando again, I thought it would be my chance to find you. It was a dead end, and I was forced to stop,” Gregor let out a little giggle, “But you’re here now, I’ve found you.” You could see his eyes watering, and you lightly swept your thumb against his cheek. His eyes closed from the motion, relaxing into your embrace.

“I became a Rebel fighter.” You let out, a small smile falling onto your face. “I can’t go out, but I sure can type battle reports much better than I have before.” Gregor let out a laugh, one that reminded you of the laugh that would come out after the two of you drank a little too much at 79’s. You couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from your lips, tilting your head forward to lean your head against his.

Silence fell over the two of you, Gregor looking as though he was searching for words that he couldn’t find. After a few moments, he pulled back, creating space between the both of you. Immediately you realized how much colder it was without being in his arms, and it took all your willpower to not let out a whine of protest. He stood up, holding out his hand to pull you up. You quickly grabbed it, him lifting you but not letting go. You looked into his eyes, and you could just feel the anxiety radiating from him.

“My sunshine, do you.. Do you still love me? I know it's been many years and I’m a lot older now, plus I’ve been told by Wolffe a few times that I have a few screws-“ You cut him off with a kiss, Gregor's eyes widening into a shocked expression as you pull away.

“I will always love you, forever and always, no matter what.” A large smile broke over Gregor’s face, lifting you into a spinning hug. You both couldn’t contain your laughter, grateful to be reunited with someone you both never thought would ever see again.

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[forever-rogue]

Stutter Something Profound

A/N: Y’all wanted part 2, so you get part 2 with some sub!Din! It did get a little soft, I might add, but enjoy! Happy Valentine’s Day from me to you! As always, comments and feedback are welcomed! xx

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only) -  oral (m and f receiving, unprotected sex, etc...)

DOUSE THE LIGHTS (PART 1)

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Quiet down,” Din’s voice was sharp and biting as your brow furrowed and you turned to him with a look of confusion marring your features.

“I didn’t say a word,” you huffed in response as you turned your attention back to the little bean sitting across the cold, metallic floor from you. His favorite little ball was in his tiny hands as the two of you rolled it back and forth to each other. You’d been stuck in hyperspace for some time, and there really wasn’t much else to do. It was like the Mandalorian - Din,  you reminded yourself - refused to have even a modicum of fun. He’d been even more quiet and stoic than normal recently. 

Ever since - 

“Yes, you did,” he turned his head sharply, surely almost breaking his neck as he turned to look at the two of you from the captain’s seat. You quirked a brow in question before gesturing between yourself and the small child. He huffed sharply through his nose, the sound a loud, bitter thing as it reverberated off the walls, “keep it down.”

“That’s what I thought we were doing,” you snapped back before rolling your eyes and turning back to your small compatriot. He cooed gently before smiling and taking the ball as you rolled it back to him. You couldn’t help but smile at the little one; he always had the best and most calming aura about him. Before you could stop yourself, under your breath you murmured, “maybe you just need to calm down a little.”

"Excuse me?" oh. You just knew there was a scowl on his face, those plush lips pulled in a frown. Maker, those lips, delicious and soft, has been all over your body, mapping and marking almost every single inch of skin. You'd been thinking about them ever since that night - his touch, his taste, his feel. All of it.

Nothing had been the same since. 

And yet nothing had changed.

"You heard me, Din," it was the first time you'd used his name since that night. It was a challenge as much as a question. It was silent, almost dead silent, as he slowly rose to his full height. He presented an impressive sight, covered in gleaming beskar, as his chest rose and fell steadily. Slowly, ever so slowly, he stepped closer, each footfall loud and purposeful. Shit, shit, shit. You’d fucked up and this was it. You were always pushing and pushing and pushing, and you’d finally pushed enough. Maybe he’d reached his limit. 

He came over to you and slowly crouched down, predatory in every way, reaching over and taking your chin in his gloved hand as you turned your face up to meet his own. You were left breathless as you stared back into the black T of his visor, wishing you could see the expression in his eyes, “are you telling me what to do?”

Part of you wanted to remain small and shrink away, but another part of you, this one was feeling particularly strong in the moment and there was no holding it down, “yes.”

“Uh huh honey,” he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip causing you to part them slightly, “you sure about that?”

“Y-yes,” your head was already spinning with all sorts of thoughts and fantasies. He dipped his finger slightly into your mouth and you had to resist the urge to suck on it.  But then you remembered - you remembered what you had told him last time. As you laid in his arms and made a promise that you planned on making good on, “yes. I am, Din.”

“Hmmm,” it was a soft gentle growl as he released your chin and stepped back, standing up again. Your heart was fluttering wildly as he walked towards the ladder, to head down, “we’ll be on Sorgan soon. Keep him with you.”

You waited until he was gone and thoroughly disappeared before hanging your head and sighing shakily. Before you could get too caught up in your head, a small bit of laughter and gentle cooing captured your attention. You looked up and found your little friend grinning at you, his little teeth on display as he made grabby hands for the small metal ball. 

“Of course, my sweet bean,” you smiled fondly at him, giving him what he wanted, “anything for you. At least one of my boys isn’t being a Mr. Grumpy Boots!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“This is Sorgan?” you asked softly as you held the little one in your arms, already falling behind Din as made it a point to stop and study your surroundings. It was a beautiful place, lush and green and teaming with the sounds of all sorts of animals in the distance. He made a small noncommittal sound without so much as looking back at you. You rolled your eyes at him before sticking out your tongue and blowing a quiet raspberry, causing the little one to giggle. It appeared that he still wasn’t over being grumpy, and you were sure that he was still sour over your little outburst. 

You remained quiet as you followed after him, deciding that it was best not to push his buttons. Although you weren’t so concerned with the possibility of what he would do. You knew that he wasn’t going to abandon you in some remote part of the galaxy as you once had feared; no, perhaps he’d even give you another...punishment like he had previously.

But you weren’t sure he ever would mention again. You’d wanted to bring it up, desperately so, but you just...didn’t quite know how. The morning after you’d woken up a few times only to find yourself still wrapped up in his arms, resting your head on his chest as he snored lightly. When you’d gone to get up for the day at hand, he was long gone, already dressed and going about business as usual.

You'd tried not to be upset, not to let it get it to you...but kriff. It was a one time deal but Maker, you wished it weren't. But who were you to question and interrogate him on the matter? Besides the words that needed to be exchanged, or your little altercation earlier, he'd avoided you like the plague. It was even worse than being stranded in the most desolate desert in the outer rim.

"Keep up," he called over your shoulder as you realized you'd been caught up on your myriad of daydreams and fallen far behind. You huffed as you picked up the pace to keep up with his long strides, "we're almost there."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Almost there ended up being another half hour of trekking through the woods until you reached the small village that served as your destination. Part of you had been tempted to complain, but the other half was thrilled to be able to get out and stretch your legs and see something other than metallic walls or dirt and decay. The air was fresh and light, doing wonders for your spirit and lungs. The little one seemed to be enjoying everything as much as you were - his eyes were wide and curious and as he studied the new surroundings. At the sight of a few butterflies, he reached out to try and capture one, almost tumbling out of your arms at one point. Giggling, you slowed your pace and set him on the forest floor, letting him follow behind the two of you all while keeping a close eye on him.

Eventually, the sounds of life - children’s laughter, animals, and animated chatter met your ears and you found yourself in a picturesque, small village. You look at everything in awe as your green bean toddled over to the nearest group of children. Instinct took over and you moved over to grab him, but Din grabbed your arm and shook his head, as you frowned at him, “he’s fine. He knows them.”

“Okay,” you nodded, but nonetheless your guard was up. You were more protective over Din and the little one than anything else. If something happened to either one of them you didn’t know what you’d do. Din must have sensed your hesitation as he lightly put his hand on your arm and pulled you along with him. Nodding, you silently acquiesced to his request.

It was another short walk to the center of the town, where you spied a small group of people milling about, almost as if they were expecting them. Din gave them a nod, but kept you close at his side. 

“Mandalorian,” a beautiful woman with long hair walked over to the two of you as Din held his hand out to her but you stepped slightly behind him. She had a kind face and eyes, and you could tell she meant no ill will, "you've returned."

"As I said I would," he insisted as he shook her hand. Turning her attention to you, she looked you up and down, observing you with intense scrutiny, and yet you did not feel afraid. Whatever had happened between the two of them, you could tell she was looking out for him.

Holding out your own hand, you steeled yourself as you offered it to her and gave a kind smile accompanied by your name. 

"Omera," she had deemed you worthy of her name and seemingly her approval, "you're…"

"She's mine," he insisted sharply, causing both you and Omera to look at him in surprise. Inside, you were beaming and bursting with joy and pride at the surprising revelation. You weren't sure if it was purely situational or he had meant it as more - as what it was, but Maker - your face felt hot and knees weak. 

"She's your…"

"Mine," he repeated simply with a curt nod and an air of finality. His hand found the small of your back as you raised your eyebrows at the woman in shock, practically glowing from inside.

"Very well Mandalorian," the woman turned on her heel and motioned for the two of you to follow, "we're pleased to see you and the little one again. You may stay as long as you'd like; let me show your quarters."

Hesitating for a moment, you watched as the two of them started to walk away, leaving you behind. All of this seemed so surreal - domestic, uncomplicated, and...free. It almost felt surreal and you were afraid it would all end up being a dream. Too good to be true - a taste of what your life could be. Maybe...maybe one.

"Sweet girl," perking up at the use of the almost sacred nickname you caught his gaze. Holding out his hand to you, it wasn't but a mere moment before you took it, nervously - tentatively - and let him pull you towards his body. And then softly, almost as if it was just the two of you and not a whole gaggle of people around you, Din leaned in, "keep up."

What was even going on anymore? Surely this had to be a dream...but then again the warmth of his hand in yours was tangibly real. This was actually happening.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"This is it, huh?" looking around the small cabin, you quickly decided that you liked it. It was quaint and cozy and warm - everything that the Crest wasn't. Definitely something you would appreciate for a week or two and definitely something you would miss as soon as you left. The little one had been busy with his old friends, and Omera had graciously offered to take him for the night. As much as you both loved him, it was nice to have a little bit of time to yourselves.

"Not to your liking, princess?" his hands were on his hips as he watched you closely. It was teasing - lilting and with a small tone of amusement. Shaking your head you turned to him and offered a small smile, "you'll be comfortable here. Better than the ship and it'll give you an opportunity to stretch your legs."

"I like it," you agreed, "its nice to slow down for a change. Who knew you had a heart and a brain after all, Din?"

"Very funny, brat," the way you tingled at his use of the word was enough to render you speechless. He paused for a moment, thoughtful and quiet, "I don’t hate you, you know."

"Huh?" your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden declaration and the doe eyed look on your face enough to make his own cheeks tinge with a pink flush. Once again he was eternally thankful for the beskar helmet. He slowly reached up and grabbed your chin between his fingers as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I know I'm not always...the easiest to get along with," he all but whispered, "but I do appreciate you more than you know."

"Hmmm," your body was electric as his touch sent sparks down your spine, "I know, Din. I...fuck. I appreciate you too. I've been...thinking about you."

"Have you, naughty little thing?"

"Mhmm," you closed your eyes and keened into its touch, "ever since that night…"

"Then what do you want?" his voice was low - dangerous - as his hand tightened around your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. Your pupils were dilated, eyes practically black with lust as a small sound escaped your lips. How easy it would have been to give in and let him have his way with you, "tell me little brat. Use your words."

"You," it was almost a whimper as the heat pooled low in your belly and the delicious, tingling ache between your legs started. How easy that would be to let him use your for his (and your pleasure). Even within the thick haze of arousal, you reminded yourself of your promise.

He would be your good boy.

Almost out of nowhere, your hand was on his wrist, delicate compared to his large gloved one, and pulling him away from you. 

"What are you-"

"I'm in charge, Din Djarin," you reminded him, a surge of confidence running through your blood as desire seeped into every fiber of your beating. Your heart was beating wildly as you anticipated his reaction, treading carefully to make sure you didn't overstep any boundaries, "I made a promise last time and I don't break promises."

He chuckled - a dark, delicious sound that sparked pure fire in your bones. Instead of a smart remark for once he...acquiesced.

"Tell me what you do want."

"Strip," you echoed his words from the last time you'd found yourself in this position, "and get on your knees."

"As you wish,” he pulled back and started to slowly peel off his gloves, his gaze trained on you the entire time. You felt like a shy maiden, rather than a woman about to make a grown man cry, as a flush rose up in your neck and face; but you didn’t shift your gaze away.

Din made a show of pulling off each piece of armor, bit by Beskar bit, in painfully slow manner. The cocky Mandalorian knew exactly what he was doing. As soon as he was left in his underclothes, you could see that his cock was already painfully hard and straining at his trousers. A sense of pride welled up in your chest as you realized you were the cause of it all. Keeping the helmet on for the moment, his large hands skimmed the hem of his shirt as you almost lost your patience and tore it off for him. Languidly, methodically, he left the shirt up and tugged it over his head, letting it fall with an unceremonious small sound to the floor. 

He was beautiful - even more in the fading light of day than he had been in the dark. Tan, golden skin littered with freckles and scars came into view as your breath hitched in your throat. Maker. You bit your lip as he tilted his head to the side to gauge your reaction. Trying to play it cool, you motioned for him to continue his fingers trailed over the waistband of his pants. The dusting of dark hair that disappeared into his pants was enough to make your mouth water as you remembered the promise it held. 

Din popped open the button and slowly unzipped his pants before tugging his pants down his legs and kicked them off along with his boots. Apparently you weren’t the only one getting impatient. Making a small, musing sound in the back of your throat you walked over to him, admiring his beauty - and his hard cock that was already leaking fat beads of pre-cum. Smirking, you trailed a hand down his warm skin, raking your nails over it as you pressed a few lazy kisses along his broad shoulders. You were almost positive that you could hear a small sigh leave his lips. 

“You are beautiful, Din Djarin,” you murmured as you pressed featherlight kisses to his neck, noting that he swallowed thickly, “it’s a shame no one sees - but a privilege to have you at my mercy.”

Before letting him get a word in edgewise, you went over to the windows and made sure everything was tightly closed and curtains were drawn before turning off the bedside lamps. There was almost no light left in the small room, save for the candle near the door; just enough to get by but not enough to actually see anything. Flouncing back over to Din, his large, warm hands found purchase on your waist as you reached up and tentatively rested your hands on the side of his helmet. 

“Do you trust me, Din?” you whispered, a far cry from how domineering you intended on being. His hands circled around your wrist as he offered you a soft nod. You lifted your hands up, along with his as you pulled off the beskar and gently set it down along with the rest of his armor. 

When he was fully stripped, a sharp contrast to you being fully clothed, he immediately tried to crash his lips onto yours to kiss you; a hungry, feverish thing. You smirked against his lips before quickly pulling away and placing a finger on his lips and shaking your head, “no, no, no honey. Not yet.”

“Brat-”

“Hmmm,” your hands went to his shoulders as you pushed him down and onto his knees, “it seems to me like you’re the one not listening. Won’t you be a good boy, Din?” 

Knowing what you wanted immediately, his hands went to your waist as he undid your pants and pushed them to the ground, helping you to step out of them. You knew normally he would have argued with you or something but today something was different; almost like you had him under some sort of spell. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured as his hands ran up your thighs, stopping to paw at your bum and giving it a good squeeze, pulling a squeal of delight from your lips. He chuckled against your skin, placing kisses along your thighs and hips before working over to your mound. Running a finger through your already soaked folds, he gathered some of the your arousal before it in his mouth and sucking it clean, “like fucking candy.”

“Din,” it was a herculean task not to completely surrender control to him and have his face. He hummed in content as he nudged your legs further apart and you could feel his breath fanning against your warm, wet center. Carding a hand through his dark locks, you gently yanked his head away, “we don’t have to do this…”

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl,” he rasped as you nodded slowly, “I can handle it  - whatever you want.”

His gentle reassurance was enough to get you back on your game as you brought his face to your core, where you were getting desperate for his touch, “eat it.”

Warm hands anchored themselves to your hips as he buried his face in between your thighs, licking up your soaked folds like a starving man. It was such an unexpected, pleasant rush that you almost lost your balance as you braced yourself against the wall. A small whimper escaped your lips as Din continued to lap at you, his aquiline nose nudged against your clit. For all the talents this man had, eating pussy was definitely one of them. 

“Kriff,” it wasn’t long before your legs started to shake as the pleasure in your belly grew and grew and threatened to snap. He was not shy or soft spoken as he murmured filthy praises against your heat as he licked and suckled on your clit and folders before plunging his tongue into your velvety walls. He was quick to balance you as you almost staggered forward, “Din…”

“So good,” he praised as he reached up and added two thick fingers to his ministrations, curling them in a come hither motion as he quickly found your sweet - the one that made you see absolute stars. Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt nothing but warmth radiate throughout your body and pressed his face firmly against you. You felt the vibrations of his chuckle as he continued on, just a little further and harder until you were over the edge. A large hand had snaked up your body to cup and squeeze your breasts through your shirt as you keened into him.

This time you didn’t even bother to hold back your mewls and moan as you came all over his tongue and fingers. Making a sound of approval, he worked you through your orgasm until you were a shaking, whining mess above him. His name came off your tongue in reverence as he stabilized you and lapped up every last bit of your arousal. 

“Maker,” you finally managed to catch your breath after a few minutes as you pulled out of his grasp and helped him to his feet. In the soft candlelight you could see your juices glistening on his face. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck and crashed your lips onto his, kissing him in a fervent tangle of tongue and teeth. He responded eagerly, taking his time to taste you and explore your mouth as your wicked hands roamed his body. Din almost choked on a moan as you grabbed his weeping cock in your hand, coating it in the reminder of your wetness. A smile grew on your face as you pulled back and looked at him innocently, “good boy, Din. It must be painful, huh? To be this hard and have no relief? Do you want me to make it better?”

“Mouth,” it was a soft whisper -  a plea, “use your mouth.”

“Hmm,” you mused as you continued to stroke his length, noting how he seemed to thrust into your hand more with each passing second, “I don’t know if you’ve earned that yet.”

A mess of sounds, guttural and visceral, met your arms as you played with him before massaging his balls just to push him as far as he could go. It wasn’t only before you felt him twitch in your hand and could hear the struggle as he tried not to come in your hand.

“Sweet girl,” he stammered out as he closed his eyes in bliss; but you beat him to the punch and pulled your hand away, creating a painstaking distance between your bodies. He hissed at the loss of contact and his orgasm as you ripped your shirt and bra off, letting the offending articles join the heap of his clothing, “fuck!”

“I told you that you hadn’t earned it yet,” you reminded him with a saccharine smile, “only good boys get to cum.”

“I am going to-”

“Get on the bed and lie on your back,” you insisted sharply. He huffed sharply before marching over and getting on top of the plush blankets. Looking around for a moment, you knew exactly what you were searching for, hoping you hadn’t misplaced the crimson silk fabric. After a few moments of digging, you made a small noise of triumph as you found the object of your affection. Walking back over with a sway of your lips, you displayed the fabric to him, “hands up and behind your head.”

“What are you doing?” it was a tone of wonder and amusement as you raised an eyebrow and hoped he was able to see it.

“You’re not allowed to use your hands,” you grinned as you stole a kiss before grabbing his wrists in your hands, “no touching, Din. Not until I say so.”

The Mandalorian  - your Mandalorian - grunted as you threaded the fabric through the headboard and secured his wrists. It wasn’t necessarily a strong, tight hold, but it was enough to get your point across. No touching. Din could have easily broken through the thin fabric, but he wasn’t going to try again - he was going to be a good boy.

"What are you going to do sweet girl?" he asked as you spread your legs on either side of his hips, your wetness brushing the soft curls of his pubic hair. Grinning almost sinfully, you grabbed his jaw and turned his face towards, only making out the highs and lows of his features. Leaning down you kissed him, chasing after his lips with your own.

"Have my way with you," you whispered as you kissed the shell of his ear before working along his jaw and neck, making it a point to nip and suck at the delicate skin. And then, as you reached the hollow of his throat and placed a chaste kiss there, he practically whimpered, "oh, my sweet boy."

Din tugged lightly on the restraints, enough to shake the headboard slightly, but not enough to do anything. Shimmying down his body you tenderly touched and kissed every part of his body making sure each little freckle and mark and scar were given attention. The man practically melted under your touch; no one had ever given him this type of love and attention before. In the past it had all been either sloppy blowjobs or quick fucks; it had never mattered about him or the other person before, the only end game was release. But this...this was different. Delicate, gentle - caring.

Kissing along the V of his abdomen before nosing along his soft pubic hair, your raked your nails up and down his legs.

"When's the last time someone loved you, Din Djarin?" it was a hushed whisper, one you really expected an answer to you, but Din had almost inhumanly adept hearing - perks of a lifetime as a bounty hunter.

"Never."

"Well I do," it was an easy confession that startled both of you. You had meant it as both a I'm going to love you just now and I'm in love with you all at once. But that was something to be delved further into another time, "I do very much."

Before he could say anything else, you licked a long stripe up his shaft. His reaction was immediate as he bucked his hips up causing you to just push them back down. Laughing lightly, you tutted at him before taking him in your mouth - as much as you anyway. He was big and it did take some effort to get as much of him as possible. 

It wasn't long before he was writhing under you as you licked and sucked him to an inch of his life. Making a point to hollow your cheeks and be noisy, you played with balls as you pushed him closer and closer to his release. Your mouth was already costing with your spit and his salty pre-cum and his cock twitched in your mouth. Just before he came, you pulled off of him and say back on your haunches watching his chest rise and fall rapidly.

"I was almost-"

"I know," it was a sticky sweet answer as you ghosted a hand over his body. Your hand found its way around his throat as you squeezed; more intensity than he had applied to you, but not enough to hurt, "tell me, sweet boy, are you going to let me sit on your face?”

“Use me,” he insisted as you kissed your way up his body and stopped at his lips and captured them in a searing kiss. His were perfect against yours - soft, full, and plush. Before getting too lost in his kiss, you positioned yourself over his face, and his eager hands tried to reach for you, only to find out that he couldn’t. A small groan of frustration left his lips as you grinned and ran a hand through his dark curls, “sweet girl.”

“Use your mouth, Din,” you braced yourself on the headboard as you lowered yourself down to meet his mouth. If you had thought he was eager before, you were sorely mistaken. The man in question lapped at your freshly soaked folds like it was the last thing he would ever do. His nose was perfect against your sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue delved into you and caused you to cry out in pleasure. Seeming satisfied with his work, you felt him grin against you, his beard tickled you in all the best ways, “fuck. So good - so, so good.”

“Sweet girl,” he murmured against your skin as you felt yourself melt into a puddle of jelly. His praise along with this ministrations was enough to have you seeing stars as you closed your eyes and felt that familiar coil start to snap in your belly. Rocking against his face, he picked up his pace until you were just about to cum again, but instead of letting your orgasm fully wash over you, you pulled back and moved off of your face, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shock your head before kissing him, tasting yourself on his tongue, “you’re perfect. Want to cum on all over your cock, Din. Feel you inside of me.”

“Please,” he was practically beginning at this point; he was harder than he ever been and needed to be inside of you, “come on, sweet girl.”

Swinging a leg over his hips, you grabbed his hard cock and pumped him a few times before lining himself up at your entrance. Slowly sinking down on him, the two of you moaned in unison, as he stretched you fully and completely.

“Din,” his name was but a soft, reverent whisper off your lips as you put your hands on his chest and started to bounce at a slow pace up and down his cock. He felt perfect inside of you, hitting all the right spots as your clit rubbed against his pubic hair. He thrust his hips up to meet each of your bounces, pulling harder and harder at the bindings. You leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck as you pressed your chest against his and kissed every part of him that your lips found, “so close - sweet boy.”

“Me too,” he agreed, his voice crackling and rough, “gonna cum inside you.”

“Yes,” you breathed as your warms started to contract around him and you felt him twitch within you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin, “Din.”

“Sweet girl,” he so desperately whispered he could wrap his arms around but instead kept his hips as close to yours as possible, “so good - so perfect.”

You all but collapsed in his arms as you laid on top of him, the two of you working to catch your breath. Once you came down from your high, you kissed his nose, and slowly moved to undo the bindings and free him from his confines. As soon as his arms and wrists were free, he wrapped his arms around you and traced his fingers up and down your back in soft patterns. Relaxing into his arms, you sighed contentedly, “you can be a good boy, Din.”

“Only for you,” he whispered softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “I...I love you, sweet girl.”

“Yeah?” you asked as you rolled over and next to him. He hesitated for a moment but then slowly confirmed with a soft nod, “good. I...I love you, Din Djarin. I have for a while.” 

“I never...would have thought,” he murmured as he pulled into you his arms without even thinking - so easy and effortless. You eagerly complied, letting him pull you tightly against his chest as you tangled your legs with his. You weren’t sure what this all meant, or would lead to, but it was definitely something you could get used to. 

“Really?” you laughed lightly, a musical wonderful sound that he adored, even on his grumpiest days, as you took his hand and brought it to your lips, and placed a tender kiss to his knuckles. How he hadn’t known was beyond you - it all seemed so obvious. Din made a small sound, “I thought it was so obvious. It was to me at least, honey.  Even when we’re at each other’s throats - it was with love. Besides, I like when you get mad. It’s sexy.”

“You’re such a brat - my brat,” he buried his face into the pillow, but not before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “you’re amazing.” 

“You’re just saying that because I finally let you cum,” you teased as you felt your eyes getting heavy, “worth it.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a yawn, “but I’m getting you back for that next time. No hands? That’s just cruel.”

“Hmm,” you mused, “are we just going to keep taking turns? I could get used to that, Din.”

“I hope you do, sweet girl,” he murmured, “I hope you do.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[c-optimistic]

for your happy prompts ask, perhaps kara is a documentary film maker who follows ceo lena around for a doc and ends up falling in love with her by learning a bunch of little things she finds out during filming? also p.s. i absolutely adore your writing even when it tugs at the heartstrings. thank you for writing what you do! it makes my day everytime i see an update or get an email

She wasn’t allowed to see Lena Luthor until she’d signed so many papers that, if stacked together, would be taller than she was. She wasn’t even allowed to touch her camera around Lena Luthor until the woman herself, CEO extraordinaire, had personally vetted Kara out.

“You know,” Kara said as casually as she could, finding herself nervously adjusting her glasses when Lena’s cold gaze fell on her, “I usually have a whole team with me when I do this.”

“And I agreed to this on the condition that only one nosy filmmaker follows me around, not a whole team.” Lena’s reply was like everything else Kara had learned about the CEO thus far: she was blunt, a little harsh, tone and eyes cold and emotionless. She gave nothing away, not in her walk, in her mannerisms, in the ridiculously healthy food she ate, in the way she spoke to her employees or board members. She was cool, detached, wickedly smart, and utterly composed. “And I must approve the final result,” she added, gesturing to the mountain of paperwork Kara signed.

(Kara sighed internally, a tiny part of her sure Lena was a robot.)

“But it’s everything, right?” Kara clarified. “A total look into your life, no holding back?”

“You may follow me around to your heart’s content,” Lena said, leaning back in her desk chair, studying Kara intently.

“May I ask, Ms. Luthor, what made you agree to this, when you’re usually so distrustful of the media?”

Lena gave Kara a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “What made you ask to do this when you know I distrust the media?”

Lena hadn’t answered, so Kara knew she didn’t have to either, but she felt it was important to establish some kind of rapport with the woman she’d be following around for the next few weeks. “I’m of the opinion that things are rarely as simple as they seem from the outside, that’s all.”

“Well,” Lena said, looking pleasantly surprised and offering Kara a grin (a real one, one that touched her eyes and transformed her face), “perhaps that’s why I agreed to you doing this.”

x

“You’re one of Ms. Luthor’s closest friends, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Since before your daughter was born?”

“Yup.”

“So would you say you know her quite well?”

“Sure.”

“Do you plan on answering any of my questions with more than one word?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. So, in one word I suppose, how would you describe Ms. Luthor to a stranger?”

“Flawless.”

x

The rules of her arrangement with Lena were rather simple. For the next several weeks, Lena consented to having Kara around from the moment she woke up to the moment she went to sleep. In return, Kara was not allowed in certain meetings at L-Corp, was not allowed to bring her camera with her at all when Lena went down to R&D, and if Lena asked for her to stop filming at any point, Kara was bound to immediately do so and erase any footage she may have inadvertently captured.

For the first two days of the arrangement, it was actually rather boring. Lena was awake before the crack of dawn, she didn’t acknowledge Kara’s presence as she made coffee and toast (though she did push a cup and a plate towards Kara), and then spent the next fifteen or so hours in her office, sifting through papers, answering phone calls and responding to emails, and forgetting meals. It wasn’t until the third day that Lena’s routine changed slightly.

She received a phone call at breakfast, and whoever it was caused a bright red blush to bloom on her cheeks. Kara zoomed in slightly on Lena’s face as she answered the call. “Now’s not really a good time, Sam,” she began, falling silent at whatever this Sam was saying on the other end. Lena’s eyes flitted over towards Kara, but to her surprise, she didn’t ask for Kara to shut off the camera. “That sounds terrible,” she said, sounding truly apologetic, something about her countenance changing. She seemed softer, more open, calmer than Kara had seen her yet. “And Ruby was so excited too.” Lena fell silent once more, nodding almost as if unaware of it. “I agree with her,” Lena suddenly laughed, still nodding, “it’s not fair at all. But there’s no way I’m not going to visit. Do you want me to bring anything?” Lena laughed again, and Kara wondered if her camera was capturing the change she was witnessing with her own eyes. “As if I could forget Ruby’s chocolate.” A pause. “Give her all my love.” Another pause, a tiny smile on Lena’s lips. “All right, I will. Bye.”  As she hung up, she looked over at Kara, as if daring her to comment, everything about her shuttering at once.

“Who was that?” Kara asked, not really expecting an answer. To her surprise, however, Lena’s eyes flitted to the camera and she let out a soft, resigned sigh.

“That was my CFO, Sam Arias,” she answered, her tone a complete 180 from what she was using on the phone. She studied Kara for a moment and must have read something on her face, because her shoulders deflated and she motioned towards her phone. “Sam is my best friend. Her daughter, Ruby, is my goddaughter. We were supposed to go to the animal shelter today.” Lena smiled softly, almost as if unaware of it. “She’s finally convinced Sam she’s responsible enough for a pet. It’s actually—” Lena stopped suddenly, her eyes shifting to the camera once more, any warmth that had managed to leak out dissipating at once. “In any case, she’s sick. So we’ll have to reschedule.” She waved her hand towards the camera. “Can you turn that off, please?”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Kara said quickly, making a show of turning the Camcorder off and setting it aside. “Is something wrong?”

Lena shook her head, leaning against her kitchen counter as she eyed Kara with something like curiosity. “You know, I’ve seen all of your other work,” she said after a moment, frowning at Kara like she was a puzzle she couldn’t figure out.

(Had she? Seen all of Kara’s work? A part of Kara was curious as to how, after all, most of her stuff was tucked away in a closet back in Midvale, waiting to be opened up and viewed during Christmas, when Alex would laugh at the films she’d made in high school about how the boys’ sports teams were unfairly given more attention than the girls’. The others were projects for her degree and one or two failed attempts to get a real production company to take the risk on her.

In fact, if not for Cat Grant’s decision as ‘The Queen of All Media’ to get involved in filmmaking, funding a project from a no-name creator, Kara wasn’t even sure she’d have the film she was making now.)

“Oh,” she said inarticulately, not quite sure how to word what she was really thinking. How rich did you have to be to be able to bribe anyone into giving you anything?

Lena nodded carefully, her face a perfect mask. If not for the way her eyes followed Kara’s every movement, Kara would’ve even thought that Lena was bored. “You’re very fond of certain themes. Hope. Love. Endless optimism in the best of humanity.” She said it like it was a bad thing. And it was suddenly Kara’s turn to lean forward on the opposite end of the counter, feeling her head tilt to the side questioningly.

“Is that what you got from my films?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Lena seemed wary of the question, standing up straight and crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “Isn’t that what you intended?”

“You know,” Kara said slowly, “I don’t actually believe in all that creator’s intent nonsense. I think we search for parts of ourselves when we consume art. So if that’s what you got from my films, that says more about you than it does about me.”

If anything, this seemed to offend Lena. “So you’d deny having any sort of intent with your work? What about making something with meaning?”

Kara laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not what I mean, and besides, who says art has to mean anything?”

“Of course art means something,” Lena argued, narrowing her eyes at Kara. “What’s the point of doing it if it doesn’t mean anything?”

Kara shrugged easily, giving Lena a small smile. “I disagree. I think art says something. But meaning is up to the people who consume it.” She picked up her camera and pointed it at Lena without turning it on. “Doesn’t matter what I intended to say with my films, you got meaning from it. So I’d say there was a point in making it, don’t you think?”

Lena eyed her for a moment, apparently not liking that Kara wasn’t giving her an answer, wasn’t telling her what she was trying to say with her work. But then, after several long seconds, she relented, letting out a chuckle and shaking her head. “Well, fine,” she said, her smile touching her eyes. “As long as you don’t try to say anything silly like hope, love, or endless optimism in the best of humanity with this film.”

“I’m afraid I can’t change who you are, Ms. Luthor,” Kara said softly, turning her camera on and effectively cutting off any response Lena may have had.

(And when she looks at the footage weeks later, she’ll freeze that frame, breath catching at the look on Lena’s face: the softness of her eyes, the curve of her lips, and the pleasantly confused crinkle between her brows.)

x

“Do you spend a lot of time with your godmother?”

“Oh yeah, loads! She’s great.”

“What sort of things do you do with her?”

“I mean, normal stuff? She takes me to get ice cream all the time. The other day, she rented that new horror movie that came out and watched it with me when I stayed over. My mom went nuts when she found out.”

“So you like her?”

“No, of course not. I love Lena. She’s my aunt, you know? She’s family.”

“And if you had the chance, what would you want the world to know about her?”

“That she cares, so much. And that she’s funny and super smart and helps me with homework and after my mom she’s the very best person I know.”

x

The visit to Luthor Children’s Hospital was, as far as Kara was aware, unplanned and in fact gave Jess a great deal of anxiety. For her part, Kara was mostly frustrated and annoyed, wondering if this film was worth it at all. Because Lena Luthor seemed to be asking Kara to turn off the camera more and more, especially when her day deviated at all and she was forced to leave her office.

(Walks in the park, lunches with her goddaughter, a touching moment with the child of one of her employees...all locked away somewhere in Kara’s memory, but destined to remain there instead of on film, where it should be.)

She huffed a little bit as she leaned against the wall, watching Lena walk quickly towards the group of nurses and doctors. She didn’t say anything when Jess joined her, a contemplative look on her face. “She always does this,” Jess told Kara after a long silence, rolling her eyes fondly. “She’ll cancel meetings last minute because she heard one of the kids in the hemoc ward has finished treatment or that they’re out of toys to give to the new patients.”

“Why isn’t there any press if she does this often?” Kara asked, turning to Jess but watching Lena out of the corner of her eye. She was talking to one of the doctors now, looking comically out of place with her designer clothes while surrounded by colorful artwork by kids that littered the walls of the Children’s Hospital.

Jess fixed Kara with an unimpressed look. “You’ve met her, right?” she asked rhetorically. “She goes out of her way to hide these visits. She says that she has to keep it under wraps because she wants to keep it about the kids and not her. But I think the truth is she’s just worried people would mistreat the kids and their families for allowing a ‘Luthor’ within ten feet of them.”

“Oh,” Kara said dumbly, a little stunned by the new information, and feeling guilty for her thoughts earlier. “That’s...awful.”

“I’m not telling you this for nothing, you know,” Jess continued, frowning at Kara. “She’s been avoiding lots of her usual charitable work since you’ve been around. The whole point of this was to get everyone else to see the real Lena Luthor, but she’s ruining it by being humble and noble.”

(Kara wanted to groan, roll her eyes, or better yet go over to Lena herself and shake her until she understood what Kara’s job was.

How was she supposed to make a documentary about Lena Luthor if Lena Luthor was so determined to hide herself away from the world?)

“What would you have me do?” she asked, not voicing her frustration, though it seeped into her tone anyway. “We have a deal, and she doesn’t want me to film these things.”

Jess shook her head, looking terribly unimpressed by the answer. “Don’t you have artistic integrity? Would you allow anyone else to boss you around and tell you what you could and couldn’t film?”

Kara looked over at Lena, who was now smiling at a young boy who had ambled up to her with his mother and infusion pump stand in tow. She watched as Lena actually dropped to her knees to talk to the boy, nodding vigorously at whatever he was saying. After a long moment, she turned back to Jess and shook her head. “No,” she said finally. “I guess I wouldn’t.”

And after Jess had given her another significant look before walking off, Kara raised her camera and began to film.

x

“Mr. Spheer, you’re an ex of Lena Luthor’s, right?”

“Ah, I see this documentary is quite personal. Are you sure that Lena is okay with this sort of thing going into her movie?”

“Well, it’s my movie. But she’s free to ask me to take things out.”

“Fascinating. Yes, I am Lena’s ex. I was quite brokenhearted when she broke it off to move to National City.”

“Oh, she broke it off?”

“So curious, Ms. Danvers. Perhaps you’re interested in something beyond a mere film?”

“W-what? No, that’s—please be serious, Mr. Spheer—”

“It’s Jack to you, my dear. What else do you need to know about Lena? Her favorite flowers are plumerias, her favorite food is—”

“—oh that’s really not necessary. If we could just focus on who Lena is as a person. A friend. A former girlfriend?”

“Hmm, yes. Well, just imagine your perfect woman, Ms. Danvers.”

“Oh, um, I—”

“—exactly, you see Lena. That’s an universal experience, I’m afraid. Lena is simply...too good for this world.”

“So you’d say the treatment she gets by the public is unfair?”

“It’s unfair how much people attack pineapple on pizza, Ms. Danvers. The way they speak of Lena without knowing her? That’s a pure travesty.”

x

They were about ten days into filming when Kara saw Lena relax for the first time.

She was using the word ‘relax’ rather loosely, of course. Lena didn’t do what Kara did after a long week—put on a pair of sweatpants, order loads of junk food, and watch so much Netflix that it eventually felt the need to ask her if she was still watching. In fact, Lena’s idea of relaxing was more work. Just, fun work.

She was dressed in jeans and a blue shirt, knees pulled up to her chest as she sat at her desk, mumbling under her breath as she did whatever she was doing. (She hadn’t bothered to explain to Kara, had just sighed and acquiesced to the presence of the camera in her home office.) Perched precariously at the tip of her nose were a thick black pair of glasses, her hair falling to her shoulders in gentle waves.

She looked different. Softer, somehow. Gone was all the trappings of a badass CEO, and all that was left was a clever (and beautiful) young woman, working on the things she loved in her spare time.

Kara zoomed in slightly, focusing on Lena’s face, on the furrow between her brows, her lips twisted in concentration. There was something there, something different, and Kara just wanted to—

“Is that camera heavy?” Lena asked, looking up suddenly, a curious expression on her face. She was good at that, the polite looks, gently asking for more information. Tiny eyebrow raises, nearly imperceptible softening of her eyes, lips quirked the slightest bit, all intended to disarm her quarry, making them drop their guard long enough that they give everything held close to their chest away.

“Not really,” Kara answered, grinning at Lena. This made the other woman blink in surprise, clearly not the response she was looking for, that expression on her face shifting suddenly, becoming more calculating. “I work out,” Kara went on to explain, shrugging easily, careful not to jostle the camera. “Besides, it’s not that heavy, I think about five pounds.”

“What kind of camera do you use?”

“Oh, it’s a Panasonic AG-HVX—” she cut herself off. “It’s not that interesting.” Kara adjusted her glasses and made sure Lena’s face was still in focus. Somehow, this made Lena’s tiny smile reappear. She stood up and circled her desk, and Kara was forced to back away to maintain focus.

“You love filming, don’t you?” Lena asked, and Kara blinked, not quite sure where she was going with this.

“Ms. Luthor, as I’m sure you’re aware, this film is about you.”

If she thought this would in any way cow Lena, she was wrong. Lena just grinned, looking like she’d somehow won something.

“Do you know what I don’t understand?” she said with faux casualness, crossing her arms and tapping a finger against her elbow. “Why would you, someone Cat Grant speaks so highly of, be willing to agree to this assignment? Something most people wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.”

Kara frowned, not thinking as she responded. “It wasn’t assigned, Ms. Luthor. I pitched the idea. I wanted to do this.” Lena’s words sank in a moment later. “Wait. Cat Grant spoke highly of me?”

“Why?” Lena asked, no longer smiling.

Kara blinked at the change in tone. “Why what?” she asked, genuinely confused. This was, apparently, the wrong answer, because Lena chose that moment to begin pacing in front of her desk, looking more than a little bothered.

“I don’t get it,” she said as she paced. “I tried to figure it out, looked into you, into your work. I thought maybe you were doing this to build fame, but I’ve seen your work and even without a movie about the last Luthor, I have no doubt you’ll be very popular—”

“Oh, that’s nice of you, thank y—”

“—then I thought maybe you have a vendetta against my family and just want me to look bad,” Lena continued, barreling over Kara’s words and ignoring her entirely, “but the only connection between you and my family is your cousin, Clark Kent, and he’s the journalist who broke the story on my brother, so if anything I should dislike you—”

“That’s not exactly...Clark and I aren’t—”

“—so I really need you to explain it to me. Why did you want to make this film?” She paused her brisk pacing as she asked the question, meeting Kara’s eyes with a fierce look, one Kara was infinitely glad she was capturing on film. Because this, this glint in Lena’s eyes, was why Kara wanted to do this.

“Do you remember the speech you gave when you came to National City?” Kara asked, and judging from the way Lena’s eyebrows rose in response, she was rather thrown by the question. “Because I do. I watched it maybe a few dozen times. All those horrible questions, all the absolute certainty that you were like your brother, and you kept your head up and you promised to prove them all wrong, to make up for what he did.” Kara sighed, shutting off the camera and setting it aside gently. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. I was...interested. I wanted to see more.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Did I meet your expectations? Disappoint you? What?”

Kara smiled, unable to help it. “Does my opinion on you really matter?”

“Do you always answer a question with another question?” Lena shot back, eyes narrowing.

Kara’s smile just widened and she began to gather her things, preparing to leave for the night. Impressively, Lena didn’t question her further, just watched her then followed her to the door, looking rather cross. Pausing briefly to adjust her glasses and the strap of her bag, Kara turned suddenly and met Lena’s eyes. “You exceeded them. My expectations, that is,” Kara added when Lena offered only a quizzical look in response.

For a moment, Lena didn’t react, then that same look from her office—the softness of her eyes, the curve of her lips, and the pleasantly confused crinkle between her brows—overtook her expression, and she let out a laugh.

“Well, good then.”

x

“You went to boarding school with Ms. Luthor?”

“I don’t think that’s public knowledge, how do you know that?”

“Um, Ms. Arias told me about you. She mentioned your relationship with Ms. Luthor is unique.”

“Well, Sam would know, wouldn’t she?”

“Ms. Rojas, if you don’t want to speak to me, you don’t have to.”

“It’s fine. Look, Lena and I have been estranged for a while now. I...I did something to break her trust.”

“So would you say that Ms. Luthor is difficult to get along with?”

“No, I’d say that Lena values things like honesty and trust, and—you know that Austen novel? With the man who says that once you lose his good opinion, it’s gone forever?”

“Pride and Prejudice?”

“Exactly. Lena is like that.”

“Ms. Luthor is like Mr. Darcy?”

“No, she’s classic. No matter what’s going on, she’ll endure.”

“So...you were the one difficult to get along with?”

“Have you ever thought about taking your work to a whole new level, Kara? How do you feel about virtual reality?”

“Oh, um, I don’t have particular thoughts? But I’d love to know yours about Ms. Luthor. For the film.”

“She won’t believe this, or that I’m saying it coercion free, but Lena is...a visionary. More than that, she’s just a decent person. Which is more than most of us can say, don’t you think?”

x

After their conversation, Lena opened up dramatically.

(Well, dramatically was a stretch, but considering how closed off she’d been before, the difference was rather drastic.)

Kara filmed Lena’s visit to an animal shelter, capturing the way her fingers gently ran over the fur of the dog that immediately trotted over to her, placing its head in her lap. Lena had then explained that she went to shelters often, just to volunteer, as she was unable to adopt for fear of not having time to give the dog the attention it deserved.

Later that week, Lena let Kara stay later than usual, putting on some music as she got to cooking, going as far as to teach Kara the basics of the dish, laughing when Kara admitted that her skill in the kitchen was limited to making sandwiches. At one point she grabbed the camera and set it aside, dragging Kara into the kitchen, giving instructions and lessons as she swayed her hips to the music.

(It was silly, it was lighthearted, it was fun, and Kara couldn’t help it.

She forgot she was there to make a film.)

And as the days and weeks dragged on, when Lena showed off her skills at the piano—apologetically explaining she hadn’t had time to really play in months—or when she told Kara about her very ‘nerdy’ stamp collection or even when Lena seemed to ignore there was a camera between them and she began to talk about her day and her hopes for the weekend, Kara forgot that it was a job. She forgot that she was supposed to be making something, paying attention to more than Lena’s smile or the way her eyes lit up whenever she mentioned work she was particularly passionate about.

Somewhere along the way, Kara cared more about the opportunity to spend time with Lena than she did the film itself.

More worryingly, that realization didn’t even bother her.

x

“Why filmmaking?” Lena asked one morning, pushing coffee and toast towards Kara with a tiny smile. The camera was still in its bag, untouched since Kara had arrived nearly an hour earlier. “Why not journalism like your cousin?”

“My cousin and I,” Kara began awkwardly, adjusting her glasses, “well, our relationship is a little strained, I guess.” She didn’t need the slight tilt of Lena’s head to know that Lena wanted her to keep going, to explain further. She let out a soft chuckle and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “Um, so my parents died when I was twelve. And Clark sort of...left me? I went to live with the Danvers instead, and they bought me a camera for my birthday.” Kara grinned at the very memory, still able to feel its weight in her hand, the eyepiece against her eye. “It was one of those old camcorders, do you remember? The ones with the tapes? I drove them nuts, filming literally everything. I don’t think they ever saw my face for the first few months I was with them, it was constantly behind the camera.” She didn’t explain why she wanted to document every moment with her new family, but judging from the way Lena’s eyes softened, she understood anyway. “From there it became serious. I started making films. School projects, etc. Now I’m here.”

“Why documentaries? Why not something like...oh, I don’t know, action movies?” Lena prodded, looking curious, looking interested, looking like the answer mattered.

Kara just shrugged, suddenly not able to look Lena in the eye. “I guess there’s a part of me that wanted to take after Clark.”

x

“How long have you been working for Ms. Luthor?”

“Um, this December will make seven years.”

“As her assistant, you have remarkable access to her. What’s she like?”

“Driven, ambitious, works way too hard. I don’t think she’s ever taken a holiday or even a break...but um, maybe don’t say that in the film.”

“Artistic integrity, remember? She works hard, that’s clear. But what about personally? Her relationship with you and the other employees? What kind of boss is she?”

“She cares a lot. A few years ago, before Lex Luthor, well. You know. Before all that, LuthorCorp was facing serious losses. Mr. Luthor wanted to just get rid of entire departments, but Ms. Luthor said the research was vital, and more than that, the researchers were important. She convinced her brother to keep them on—she won’t admit it, but it was more than being persuasive. She paid for it out of her own pocket.”

“So you’d say she’s charitable?”

“No, she’s passionate. And she fights for the things she believes in. Ms. Luthor likes to say that charity implies pity, and she doesn’t do anything out of pity. She just does what’s right by people.”

“Some would disagree, they’d argue that LuthorCorp, and by extension its new iteration, L-Corp, don’t care about people, but about profits. Do you think that’s a fair assessment of the company you’ve devoted seven years to?”

“Look. I get it, people are suspicious of L-Corp because it used to be LuthorCorp. But it’s not just a name change. When Lena took over, she gutted her company. There’s not a single program left from Mr. Luthor’s time as CEO. L-Corp is all Ms. Luthor.”

“So if L-Corp is Ms. Luthor, who is Ms. Luthor?”

“She’s a woman who’s been hurt all her life, Kara Danvers, and whose only goal is to keep as many people as she can from hurting too. Sometimes I just wish she realized she doesn’t deserve to be hurt anymore either.”

“Oh.”

“Also, I don’t care about your artistic integrity, that last bit does not go in the film.”

x  

One afternoon, when Kara was dangerously close to dozing off on the couch in Lena’s office—camera turned off and set aside, not really needing more footage of Lena working at her desk—Lena suddenly jumped to her feet, an excited gleam in her eyes.

“They’ve done it,” she said, the smile forming on her lips so wide that Kara found herself smiling back.

“Done what?” Kara asked, fairly sure this would lead to Lena’s refrain of ‘that’s company business and I’m afraid you’re not privy to that information’ but instead, Lena looked at her appraisingly, then rolled her eyes.

“If I allow you to bring your camera in R&D, do you swear not to film my ongoing projects?”

“You’re going to let me film in R&D?” Kara said excitedly, jumping to her feet and grabbing her camera.

“Kara, do you swear?”

“Yes, yes, of course, Ms. Luthor. I absolutely swear.”

And the next thing Kara knew, she was filming in the one place she’d been told was off-limits, capturing the lab and Lena talking to her researchers animatedly about the advancement they’d made in gene therapy, not entirely surprised when Lena shoved the scientists towards Kara and urged them to brag about their achievement—while also warning them to be as vague as possible—and then sank into the background, clearly thrilled to have her scientists as the center of attention.  

And later, when Lena decided to actually take a lunch hour as a ‘reward’ for the great strides L-Corp had made, she took Kara along, bought three different appetizers, and smiled her wide smile before she said, “It’s Lena, by the way. Just Lena.”

Mouth still bulging with the three potstickers she’d practically inhaled, Kara couldn’t manage much more than a nod, but later—when she was alone—she tried saying the name aloud, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

x

“Mrs. Luthor—”

“It’s doctor, actually.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Dr. Luthor. You adopted Ms. Luthor when she was four, is that correct?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for this nonsense. I consented to this interview only to say one thing: Lena was always the more clever of my children, but she’s foolish and soft, and this silly film is yet another example of that.”

“You agreed to meet with me to just say...that. Okay. That’s um. Fine.”

x

As the weeks dragged on, Kara had little reason to continue filming. Her deadline with Cat Grant was fast approaching, and she had more than enough footage. All that really remained was editing, of putting the final pieces together. But she found herself filming anyway.

Every day, she’d make her way to Lena’s apartment, making flimsy excuses about how certain footage was no good, or had been corrupted, and that she needed retakes of Lena doing ordinary things (like reading the paper, cooking dinner, or talking about her day). She knew that Lena could tell her excuses were just that, but mercifully, Lena didn’t seem to want to call her out on it, merely gave soft reminders not to stay up so late every night to edit (the ‘you could just as easily stop wasting your time here and be editing during normal hours’ going unsaid).

(Jess had rolled her eyes when Kara came by L-Corp and Lena mentioned offhandedly that Kara somehow hadn’t gotten a shot of Lena entering her building in all the time she’d shadowed the CEO, and wasn’t that odd?)

But what Kara knew, what made her stretch out these moments as long as she possibly could, was that once the final product popped into existence, once she showed Lena and got her okay to send off to Cat Grant, that was it.

No more Lena.

And that terrified her.

(So she gathered more footage, fruitlessly hoping that the final product would never be ready, dragging her feet at every step.

She edited, studying Lena’s every expression, tried to pinpoint the exact moment she’d started to fall for the not-so-detached CEO extraordinaire, and wished it didn’t all have to come to an end.)

x

Two days after Kara had sent Lena the finished film, she got a curt email from the CEO herself with only three words: come see me.

Jess gave no indication about how her boss was feeling when Kara arrived, merely stared evenly at Kara and gestured with her head for her to just go on in. When Kara tried to ask her, Jess shook her head, pointed at the door to Lena’s office, and made a shooing gesture.

“It’s odd to see you without a camera,” Lena said when Kara sat down across from her, trying to keep her hands from fidgeting.

“It’s odd to be in here without a camera.” Kara took a deep breath. “Did you watch it?” she blurted, unable to keep it in. “What did you think?”

“You’re really fond of certain themes,” Lena said, then she raised her eyebrow. “You also filmed quite a bit when I had asked you not to.”

“Artistic integrity?” Kara tried, and Lena...laughed.

“I don’t know if I agree with the way you portrayed me,” she said slowly as her amusement faded. “You took a lot of liberties.”

“I was very faithful to the subject of the film, Lena.”

“What do you think you were trying to say?” Lena asked, waving off Kara’s comment.

“What meaning did you get from it?”

Lena studied her for a moment, as if she was trying to read Kara’s mind. “I’m not some selfless genius, Kara.”

“Is that what you think the film is saying?” Kara asked her, not rising to the obvious bait. “Like I said, Lena. I was very faithful to the subject of the film.” For a long moment, Lena didn’t respond, and Kara felt the worry she’d managed to push away since sending the film to Lena creep back in. “Does this mean you don’t approve of the film?”

“Hmm?” Lena said, distracted. “No, I’ve already sent it along to Cat Grant, giving my okay. Even though you broke our agreement, I can’t deny the final result was very favorable to me.”

“I wouldn’t have made something that wasn’t completely true,” Kara said, somewhat hotly, most of her irritation bleeding away with the knowledge that Cat Grant was in possession of the final product, that the rest was up to her.

Lena smiled, eyes soft, and she nodded her head almost incredulously. “No, you wouldn’t. I know that.” She cleared her throat, seeming a bit nervous. “But I was thinking. I’ve been missing our talks about your work, and I know you don’t like talking about what you’ve made, but perhaps you’d make an exception for me. Would you be willing to give me a private showing of your film? Give me all the insider secrets? I know your subject quite well, it would be a fun exercise.”

Kara’s heart slammed to a stop, the jump-started at the sight of Lena’s amused eyes, that tiny curve of her lips. “A private showing, huh?” Kara mumbled, feeling a little dazed. “I still won’t tell you what I was trying to say.”

“That’s completely fair.”

“But I suppose I could give you some insight on my thoughts.”

“Only if you wanted.”

“It may have to be more than one session,” Kara said, trying and failing to stop the spread of her smile. “There’s a lot of footage you know.”

“So it’s a date?” Lena asked, and Kara couldn’t help her eager nod.

“It’s definitely a date.”

[high-functioning-lokipath]

Prompt: "I'll Be Here To Protect You" - Loki x Reader - Words: 2,564

A/N: This sort of follows the oneshot "Worthy" but can be read alone. Basically, Reader is Silver Shadow (see Marvel character list for reference), Loki and Reader are married, yada yada, you'll see…

"Silver? I think you should take a look at this," Cap said over the comms. You, Cap, Loki, and Widow had gone to investigate a Hydra base you'd received intel on. You'd been informed that the base was abandoned but that they still had some records stored there.

"On my way," You replied to the Captain, teleporting over immediately. "Oh my goodness," You gasped at the sight that greeted you. There, lying curled up in a small cage, was a girl no older than 5 or 6. Cap ripped open the cage and gently pulled her out, holding her in his arms. She whimpered slightly and you could tell she'd been beaten. Instantly, you wanted to kill the people who'd done that to her.

"Can you help her?" He whispered, not wanting to startle her any more. You nodded and held out your arms to take her. As soon as you touched her, you started working.

"You might need to hold me up," You warned the Captain. "This is going to be tiring."

"Alright," He nodded. "Then let's get you out of here." He easily lifted you both and carried you out to the quinjet. You vaguely heard him talking on the comms but were a bit too focused to actually make out his words. He set you down on one of the chairs with the girl curled up in your lap. After a while, before the others got back, she seemed to be healed and sleeping. You were exhausted so you adjusted yourself slightly in the chair and dozed off as well.

"Y/N?" You turned your head, eyes still refusing to open with exhaustion, and groaned slightly feeling the kink in your neck from sleeping weird. "Y/N! Please wake up, hm? Please?" Someone said. Now they were poking your arm. Your other arm however seemed to be asleep, as you couldn't feel it, and you had a weight on your legs and chest. Suddenly remembering what all had transpired, your eyes shot open. "See? I told you she would wake up if I did that!" Natasha said, with what you knew to be false happiness, to the girl on your lap. The girl simply glared back at Nat before turning her attention to you, with a completely different expression. Her eyes widened and she tried smiling as though she was out of practice and waved slightly.

"Hi there," You smiled. "My name's Y/N. What's yours?" She frowned and looked away before mumbling something. "Hm? I couldn't hear you," You said.

"Helius," She replied with a frown.

"Oh," You replied. "Well, do you like that name?" She shook her head vigorously. "Would you like a new name? One just as pretty as you?"

"Really?" She asked, eyes lighting up once more.

"Yep! And then you'll have a special name for yourself! Just like I do, and just like Natasha," You said pointing at the redhead. "And-" You were about to point to your husband when you realized for the first time since waking back up that he wasn't with the team anymore. Your eyes darted back to Nat who looked worried.

"Y/N?" The little girl said quietly, pulling on your sleeve.

"What is it, dear?" She whispered in it in your ear and you nodded. "Oh yes, um. The bathroom's right over here." You took her over and opened the door.

"I get to use that?" She asked, surprised.

"Yes," You replied slowly.

"Wow! You're really nice!" She hurried inside and closed the door herself. You stood there for a moment, shocked, and Nat walked up behind you.

"She's not even accustomed to using a normal bathroom, Nat!"

"Those people, if they even should be called that," she said, shaking her head. "Are monsters." You looked around once more, trying to see if Loki had shown back up. "He's up with Steve," She said, pointing to the cockpit.

"What? Why? He's willingly spending time with the Captain?" You said teasing.

"He said he needed to think."

"Did he give any clues?"

"Not verbally. But I think he's nervous."

"About what?" You exclaimed. She nodded towards the bathroom door.

"Being a Dad."

"A Da-" you interrupted yourself, chuckling lightly. "You think just because we found her means we'll be her parents?" Nat smirked and nodded. "First of all, Tony will probably have a cow if we wanted to keep her."

"Well your husband had a horse, may I remind you."

"That was a made up story! Would you please stop referencing it!" You shrieked.

"Only when it stops being funny," She laughed.

"Second, there's probably already some rule in place that states we need to put her in the custody of Child Protective Services."

"We'll see about that."

"She's yours!" Tony said 2 hours later once you'd arrived home and gone straight to a conference room to meet with him.

"What?" You exclaimed. You hadn't even had the chance to talk with Loki yet. You glanced outside the room at the girl sitting in the hallway. The whole team was there with you but Loki had still not said a word. You looked at him but he refused to make eye contact and you couldn't read his expression. "Don't get me wrong, Tony. She's wonderful and I think she deserves the world but why?"

"You found her! Who knows if she has powers? It's best to have one of our own caring for her just in case. And besides, according to Romanoff's story, the girl practically glared daggers into anyone else who came her way."

"Alright I guess. I mean," You sighed. "Loki? Darling? Um, what do you think?"

"You've already made the decision, Stark. I will respect that and allow my wife to make the necessary changes to our living quarters to care for the child. Now is there anything else you'll be needing at the moment? I need a shower."

"Uh, no. It's-we're done," Tony said, seeming surprised at Loki's attitude just as you were. You all started to head out but Tony stopped you for a moment. "Here," He said, handing you a credit card. "Buy whatever you want for her." You smiled and shook your head.

"What do you know? The man of iron does have a heart."

"Yeah but don't tell anyone," He chuckled.

About a week later, Helius was in her new bedroom, thoroughly showered in gifts from Tony, but still not talking to anyone. Neither was Loki for that matter. You yourself were exhausted, staying up late nights keeping the girl company when she woke up screaming from nightmares. When you eventually came back to bed, you often found your husband had gotten up already and disappeared somewhere to 'be alone'. With Helius, you offered her a few ideas for a new name but she didn't like any of them. You even told her some ideas the others had suggested but she hated those even more. You seemed to be the only one she was comfortable with. With Loki, you'd tried to talk to him, even calling and texting him but he wouldn't answer. Today, though, you decided you needed to do something about both of them or else you were probably going to go crazy. First, though, you had some formal paperwork to take care of with Tony in order to have legal guardianship of her.

"I don't know what to do about it, Stank," You sighed, hours later. Tony wrinkled his nose slightly at the nickname but listened. "Half of this I honestly still can't fill out for you because she won't pick a name. I don't know how to make her socialize and I sure don't know how to get Loki to spill what's bugging him." Tony got up and walked to your side, putting his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm not sure what to tell you either, Shiny."

"Watch it," You hissed, whipping out a knife you always kept on your person and holding it dangerously close to his baby-maker. He backed away quickly.

"Maybe you just need to corner your husband and, uh, pull that trick on him," He chuckled nervously. "Ok, well, um, just hold onto that paperwork and send it to me when it's done, alright?" You nodded and gathered it together before heading back to your floor. It was early afternoon and you thought you may have a shot at talking to your husband while Helius took her nap. She'd found her own little routine to keep her occupied during the day in her room even when you weren't there. But you always had to be home when she slept because of her nightmares and she refused to socialize with others.

"I'll be in the bedroom until dinner is ready," Loki said upon your return.

"Can we please talk first?" You asked.

"There's nothing to discuss," He replied, quickly walking to the bedroom and slamming the door.

"Oh yes there is!" You exclaimed, teleporting yourself inside the bedroom.

"I hate when you do that!" He yelled.

"Well I hate when you do this! Now man up and tell me what's wrong or I really will back you in a corner with my knife!"

"I don't want to talk about it, alright?" He hissed. "Now keep your voice down or else you'll alert the child that we're having a disagreement."

"Oh, so you're finally acknowledging her?" A guilty expression flashed over his face and he turned away. "What is it, Loki?" You pleaded. "I don't want to argue. I just want to know what's going through your mind. Ever since we found her, you've been-"

"You found her," He said. "I want no part in raising a child that is not my own."

"What about your own blood?" You asked, wondering for your own future if he was against kids in general or not.

"I-" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. But I certainly don't want to adopt. I've never seen a good result of adoption."

"Oh," You said slowly. "So that's what this is about."

"What do you mean?"

"You're worried about your own background. Is that it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," He huffed, crossing his arms and further distancing himself from you.

"Loki, please. Listen to me. You may not have had the best family situation yourself, but that doesn't mean you won't be a great Dad. I think-no-I know you'd do wonderfully! Please believe me!"

"I-"

"Mommy!" A voice called out, sounding frightened. Your eyes and Loki's widened in surprise. She'd never called you that before.

"I had better check on her," You sighed. Loki nodded and you rushed off. Half an hour later you came out of her room to find Loki waiting for you on the couch.

"What happened?"

"More nightmares," You groaned and slumped down next to him.

"Is that why you're never in bed anymore?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah. It seems she can't go more than half an hour without having another one." He nodded silently and took your hand in his.

"Well, I suppose I should commend you for your sacrifices for her. I just don't know if I can-" You shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips.

"I understand, Loki," You smiled sadly. "Mind you, I don't exactly agree. But I respect how you feel. I guess I can talk with Tony tomorrow about finding her a new home." You got up quickly, to hide your own emotions from him, and went to prepare dinner. That night, Loki made you go to bed extra early so you could actually get some sleep. You appreciated it, but your internal clock had gotten so used to it already that it woke you up a few hours later about the time Helius would be having her first nightmare. When you didn't hear anything from her room, you got worried. You rushed out of your bedroom and, as you approached her room, heard voices.

"Where's mommy?" Helius cried, again sounding frightened. Drawing your knife outside her closed door, you were ready to teleport in a surprise whatever intruder was there.

"She's sleeping, sweetheart. Do you think your new Dad could help you?" You nearly cried at hearing Loki's voice so soft and gentle with her. It took you a few more seconds to process that he'd referred to himself as her 'Dad'.

"I thought you hated me," She whispered.

"I don't hate you, little one," He assured her. "Do you want to know why I haven't talked to you yet?" You didn't hear a reply but as Loki went on you could only assume she nodded. "I never had a good father. And when you came along a week ago, I was so worried that if I tried to be your father I would mess something up. And I couldn't let that happen because you are too wonderful and too beautiful."

"I don't have a beautiful name," she sighed.

"Hasn't mommy come up with any good ideas?" He asked.

"No, well, yes but I didn't like any of them. They're pretty but," she trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"May I suggest one of my personal favorites?" You cracked the door open just a little so you could see. Their backs were to you, sitting on the edge of the bed. Loki had his arm wrapped around her as she curled onto his side, dwarfed by his height even sitting. She nodded slowly in reply to his question. "How about Arabella?"

"I love it!" She exclaimed, standing quickly and jumping up and down. "Thank you, Dad," She said smiling brightly as she threw her arms around his neck for a hug. He was surprised but gladly gave her a somewhat awkward hug back. "But what if the monsters come back?" She asked, voice trembling slightly.

"I'll protect you."

"Always?"

"I, Loki of Asgard, hereby make a promise to you, Arabella, my daughter. I'll be here to protect you forever and always." Arabella hugged him again and started crying. "Why are you crying, my dear?"

"Because you're the most bestest Dad I could ever ask for."

"Well, I, uh, thank you," He stuttered, not used to that kind of compliment. "I've got an idea. How about tomorrow morning I introduce you to some of the others here?"

"Why? I don't wanna!" You bit back a chuckle at her childish exclamation.

"But they're all really nice and they'll be like your new Aunts and Uncles!"

"Well, maybe," She conceded.

"Good! Now why don't you go back to sleep and I'll stay right here until all the monsters go away for tonight." She nodded and gave him another hug before allowing him to tuck her in. You smiled, wiping away your own tears, and snuck back to your bedroom. A couple hours later, Loki snuck back in himself.

"So how's the bestest Dad doing?" You whispered. Loki tensed up when you said that.

"So you heard us?" He said. You got up and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind.

"Yep," you said. "And I couldn't be happier. You really mean it? This means I don't have to talk to Tony tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not!" He replied grinning.

"Well then I have some very exciting news for you." He turned around, quirking his eyebrows questioningly. "How would you like to be a father to two?"

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.  

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could  meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies –  and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.  

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

[thotinshield]

Danny’s Bagginshield Fic Recs (2021)

I haven’t done a fic rec in literal years, and I keep meaning to, but then I... don’t. This is a massive list - so I will put it under a read more to save your dashes.

Modern AUs

A Remover of Obstacles by MistakenMagic

"Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."

(Note: This fic deals with a lot of mental health stuff, panic attacks, etc, so please please mind the tags.)

By Request by HildyJ

As a musician, Thorin's life can be summed up in tempos. For instance, the concerto he's perfoming on Friday is Allegro - quick and bright, followed by Andantino - slightly slow, and then back to Allegro again.

On the other hand, his relationship with his cute neighbour? Larghissimo - very, very slow.

Stepping Stones by misplacedkisses

It feels like it's fate Thorin's trying to resist, his destiny, his bloodline.

Fresh out of inpatient, Thorin's struck with the urge and maybe it's fate (or therapy) that has him stumbling into a late-night cafe instead. It may be the start of a new life.

Write Me Down Easy by lucyraebrown

Bilbo Baggins, a simple man with a wish for something more than his life teaching high school English, is obsessed with a famous author by the pen-name Oakenshield. Although he knows the future is dim for his chances of finding out about the man behind his favorite book, it's reassuring to know someone has the same thoughts about the world.

Fix-its 

I'll Die to Care for You by thehufflepuffhobbit

His gaze landed on Mahal's eyes once more. "You did your best, Thorin." It was tempting to look away; he wanted to deny that with everything he had. It certainly didn't feel as though falling into Gold Sickness and then dying was doing his best. Mahal smirked, as though he knew Thorin's desire to contradict him, and pinched his cheek before walking over to a table. "Aye, I didn't think you would believe me. I'm not lying, it certainly could have gone better. More according to my plan, but I know you really did try."

"Your plan?" He didn't know if he should ask, really. Knowing that his Maker had set a course for him, he didn't want to think about the ways he had done everything wrong. There were too many examples of mistakes in his long life, too many opportunities that he had missed that had probably been planned for him from the beginning.

Or:

Mahal feels like Thorin fucked up his legacy and gives him a do over.

Roses of Iron by Porphyrios

Two years after Bilbo returned from his adventures, he's made his peace with being back in the Shire. He still wonders what might have happened if things were different, but figures all that is behind him now. A mysterious visitor turns out to be someone he never thought he'd see again, and he's shocked by the news he hears.

Beside Myself by bliboboggins

"What are you doing? Just who do you think you are?" Startled, Bilbo turned around slowly. And there, in a familiar patchwork dressing gown, brandishing a fire poker wildly about, was... Bilbo.

i wouldn't have danced like that with any but you by Percyjacksonfan3

Thorin has survived the Battle of the Five Armies but his relationship with Bilbo is uncertain and precarious, especially in the newly reclaimed kingdom of Erebor. With Kíli set to marry Tauriel, and the Dwarves of Erebor still holding prejudice against outside races, Thorin must choose between his nephew's happiness or his own.

Though he believes sending Bilbo back to the Shire is for the good of everyone, he and the rest of Erebor are thrown into turmoil when 5 years later his nephews secretly plot to bring Bilbo back. Coming face-to-face with Bilbo again makes it impossible for Thorin to stay apart from him any longer- but is Bilbo still willing to be with Thorin once more after he broke both of their hearts?

A Matter of Payment by heartshapeddog

"And Thorin rose from the little table, keeping Bilbo’s fingers crushed gently in his own, and went down to his knee before him. Bilbo was struck with the likelihood that no creature greater than a farm-dog had lowered its head before a Hobbit since the birth of Eä until this very moment. He looked down, fascinated, at the crown of Thorin’s head, bare of royal circlet, and felt at once humbled and strong.

“I swear it,” Thorin said, and Bilbo thought of the vows from Elven history, of the type which followed the oathkeeper to the ends of Arda as a deep and binding magic. Then, he took Bilbo’s knuckles up to his lips. The rasp of his beard and his soft mouth were shocking in their immediacy and contrast. Bilbo could not help his racing heart."

Feet that Wander Have Gone by WednesdaysDaughter

“Run away with me.”

Bilbo turns to see who would say such a cowardly thing only to realize it was his own traitorous mouth which has run away with his heart: They’re already down the mountain and past Mirkwood by the time he realizes no one has objected.

“What a delightful solution my dear boy,” says Gandalf who looks to the east where the eagles are skimming the horizon.

Other AUs

between synapses and circuits by MistakenMagic

Different diagnostic results slowly trickled through and Thorin swiped them all to different corners of the screen depending on their relevance and evidence of abnormality. He paused when a particular chart appeared and smiled to himself.

“What?” Bilbo murmured, sounding genuinely worried.

“Your heterochromia,” Thorin explained, meeting Bilbo’s green and blue gaze. “The irregular algorithm that causes it has been running for almost half a century.”

“Most mechatronics offer to fix it for me,” Bilbo said, looking away, seeming suddenly self-conscious.

“Then they’re idiots.”

(Note: I just love MistakenMagic’s works. That’s all. This one is good and she writes angst so so well.)

past one hundred thousand miles (feeling very still) by childishinquiry

Commander Thorin Oakenshield is the leader of the first Mars mission, Project Golden Eagle, with twelve crewmen. Back on Earth, Specialist Bilbo Baggins is their communications specialist. Making history is easy; it's much harder to deal with falling in love with the person on the other end of the signal.

Hallowbit by batherik

As simple pawn shop owner in the human world, Bilbo isn’t all that thrilled to find himself lost in Thorin’s magical undead kingdom. Lured there by an old man dressed in grey, who turned out to be a wizard, Bilbo is charged with doing a job no one wants to do: fetch the King’s head from the corn maze. The King often loses his head when his temper boils over.

In the House of a Skinchanger by Bardic

Thorin and Company have finally reached a safe house after a few crazy weeks on the road. After three days of goblins, orcs, and a massive bear that's chased them into the home of one of Gandalf's acquaintances the Company is quite exhausted and quite tired of surprises. Unfortunately for them, or fortunately there is another staying there.

Master Baggins is not who the Company expected to find, especially when he claims to be one of the only outsiders Durin allowed a title and a rank to. Although that's the least surprising thing about him.

Thorin makes some discoveries and has some observations.

Basically an AU where Bilbo is a skinchanger and the Company meet him at Beorn's on accident.

It Runs In The Family by Imagined

At first, Bilbo is very glad to hear of the new alliance between Erebor and the Shire. He is even more excited when he learns that some of his family members are coming to the Lonely Mountain to discuss the details.

That is, until the dwarves (and Thorin, who is decidedly not and never shall be his) start getting along a little too well with one of his more adventurous cousins, and Bilbo starts doubting about his place.

[nicole-lynne]

There You Are, Love - F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Description: Fred Weasley saves you from an uncomfortable situation. Now he has to pretend to be your boyfriend to keep you safe, or so you think.

Warnings: Minor sexual harassment

Nothing was going right that morning. You’d woken up late, knocked your cup of coffee all over your favorite sweater so you had to change, and when you’d unlocked the door to Flourish and Blotts, you’d discovered that the new display had fallen overnight and knocked over three other shelves. Books were scattered across the floor with cracked spines and ripped pages. You let out a strangled screech and stomped over to the counter, slamming your bag down harshly.

The unfortunate thing was that you’d actually woken up in a fairly good mood, but it was clear the universe had other ideas in mind. You made a mental note to check the star chart at some point - one of the few things you’d kept up from your days at Hogwarts.

Sighing, you turned to clean the mess before you could start the rest of the day. You crouched down and reached for a pile of books, freezing at the sound of a loud crack. You winced as you slowly pulled out your wand from your back pocket - snapped into two pieces.

Great.

Tears blurred your eyes at that next thing to go wrong. There was no way around it, you’d have to get it fixed. Vaguely you remembered when Ron had broken his wand in second year - it had been a complete disaster that had resulted in your bangs being burned off in charms class.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped the tears off your cheeks and grabbed your bag, hastily writing a note that the shop would be open late, and locking the door behind you. You threw a glance at the Weasley’s joke shop as it erupted with lights and sound before scurrying past to Olivander’s. What could they possibly be doing at nine in the morning that required fireworks. You had never had a conversation with the twins but you’d always admired them from afar at Hogwarts, and you knew they were always getting into some kind of trouble or commotion.

The past year you’d worked in Diagon Alley with them only confirmed that as you’d watch the displays and demonstrations they’d perform to the crowds from the window.

The doorbell to Ollivander’s jingled as you stepped into the small shop, and you felt the same comfort that you had when you stepped in when you were eleven, getting your wand for the first time. Mr. Ollivander had been so kind to you and helped you navigate Diagon Alley so you didn’t get lost. Over the years, you’d always taken the time to stop in and say hello to Mr. Ollivander and he’d be happy to see you every time. Now that you were running Flourish and Blotts, it was common for you to drop off lunch to him or go round for a cup of tea.

It was quiet this morning so hopefully he could quickly mend your wand and get you back in business, but he still hadn’t come out from the back.

“Hello, Mr. Ollivander? It’s me! Do you mind if I come back?” You called before moving behind the counter. A handsome man with dark hair popped out around the corner and you jumped in surprise, not expecting anyone but the older gentleman. He grinned, dimples deepening, at seeing you startled. “Oh, excuse me, I was expecting-”

“He’s not feeling well this morning, so I told him I’d come in.” The guy said, moving into the light, and held out a hand. “I’m Christian, I’m apprenticing to be a wand maker.”

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you.” You shook his hand quickly, but he held on tight for a moment before you could pull back, excitement shone in his bright blue eyes. Your stomach twisted with discomfort, all your instincts telling you to leave. “I just needed to get my wand mended but I’ll just wait until tomorrow.”

“Nonsense, I can fix that up for you. I may not be Mr. O, but I can get the job done.” He said, giving you a slimy smile.

You grimaced a smile in return before turning to leave. “That’s alright, I’ll just-”

“Come on,” he grabbed your wrist tightly and tugged you to the back room, “we’ll get you fixed up in a jiffy.”

You trailed behind him into the tiny workshop that you’d sat in a dozen times, feeling more uncomfortable than ever. Usually the fireplace was roaring, warming the whole room, and there was a plate of red currant tarts in the corner. Today, the fireplace was quiet and there was only a lone light dangled over the workbench, casting shadows on the wall.

Christian held his hand out to you and you, reluctantly, handed over your wand pieces. He stood at the bench and examined the pieces. You wrapped your arms around yourself and edged toward the door.

“You should come look at this, you might find it interesting.” He said, breaking the silence.

“That’s alright, I’ll just let you work. I need to get back to the shop soon so I can start opening.”

“It’ll just take a second, come here.”

You really needed to learn how to say no to people.

Taking a few steps forward, you looked down at your wand, entirely unaware of what you were supposed to be seeing. Christian pointed out a few facts about repairing dragon heartstring, dropping a compliment or two about having to be a powerful witch to handle a dragon core wand. You nodded impatiently and moved to step back again. Christian’s arm snaked around your waist and brought you in tight to his side.

“I think it’s really great to meet a witch who must be able to perform some of the hardest spells. It must mean you’re incredibly intelligent.” He gave you another slimy smile, his eyes trailing down your body. “Intelligence on top of being drop dead gorgeous, you’re the dream girl.”

Your insides rolled, “that’s nice of you, however, I really should get back. You can just have a messenger send the wand along-” You struggled to get out of his grip that was tightening on your hip, you could already imagine the bruises that would be there.

“Why don’t you stay a while, the shop’s already closed.”

“I don’t think so.” You whimpered at the sensation of his nose trailing along your jaw.

Christian opened his mouth to say something else, when the door to the workshop opened. “Hey, Mr. O, can you help me out-”

Your eyes flashed up to see Fred Weasley standing frozen, staring at the situation. He glanced between Christian, who had moved a few steps away from you bashfully, you, whose eyes were wide with terror, and down to the red marks shining on your wrist.

“There you are, love, I’ve been looking for you all morning.” Fred said, a bright grin on his face, and he opened his arm to you. Quickly, you darted under his arm and he tucked you in close.

Christian cleared his throat, his eyes darting from you to Fred, before reaching forward to shake Fred’s hand. “I’m Christian Lindt, I’m apprenticing with Ollivander. And you are?”

Fred just stared at the open hand, disgust in his eyes. “Fred Weasley. My brother and I own the joke shop up the way.” You rested your cheek against Fred’s chest, letting his calming scent of smoke and cinnamon comfort you.

“I didn’t realize that you had a boyfriend.” He directed the question at you and you squeaked in response. Fred’s arm tightened around you protectively and he glared at Christian.

“I don’t think that really matters, does it? At any rate, she does and I would suggest that the next time you want to put your hands on someone, you make sure they want you to.”

Your heart was pounding in your ears. The thought of how horrible this situation could have gone and how lucky you were that Fred had stepped in. Him and George had always seemed like the protective type and you were thankful he’d shown up when he did.

Christian scowled slightly before continuing. “I would do nothing less. Was there something I could help you with? I heard you say you were looking for my boss.”

Fred ignored his question to tilt his head down and make eye contact with you, his big brown eyes filled with concern. “What were you doing here, darling?”

Clearing the lump from your throat, you pointed to your broken wand on the table, “I needed to get my wand mended. I accidentally snapped it this morning.”

“Oh silly girl,” Fred rushed to collect your wand and shoved it into his pocket. “We’ll just run down to Kiddell’s and he’ll take care of it.”

“You’re going to go to that crackpot? He doesn’t know anything about mending dragon heartstring.” Christian scoffed.

“I’m positive we can figure it out without you.” Fred snarked as he led you toward the front door. Your eyes were fixed on the floor, taking one step at a time, not risking the chance of making eye contact with Christian.

“Maybe I’ll see you around, sugar.” Christian called out, a fake sweetness in his voice.

Beside you, Fred tensed, and on instinct, you reached for his hand. You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your face at the feeling of his calluses rubbing against your soft skin. He shot you an appreciative grin and let the door slam behind him loudly.

Letting out the breath you’d been holding, you moved to drop his hand, but he kept holding on, not ready to let go of the tether keeping him from going back in and beating that guy’s face in.

“Don’t let go, he’s still watching us.”

You resisted the urge to look back, and let Fred lead you toward the joke shop, his face made of stone. Pausing, you lifted your head up to watch the automated Weasley twin lift his top hat at you, intensely aware of Fred’s eyes boring a hole into the side of your head. You turned to look at him and he gestured to follow him in.

Across the shop, George lifted his head at the sound Fred of returning. “Did you figure out why the wands were sprouting- Oh, who’s this?”

Fred gave George your name tersely, “she took over Flourish and Blotts.” George nodded vaguely, still not placing you, Fred continued, “we’re going to the back, just let me know if you need help.”

George waved them on and ducked back behind the shelf he’d appeared from. You trailed behind Fred, your hand still in his, to the back workshop. Your steps faltered for a moment at the memory of the back room at Ollivanders as Fred opened the door. Looking over his shoulder, Fred’s face relaxed.

“Don’t worry, I would never hurt you.”

You didn’t hesitate to believe him. You’d heard stories over the years at school about what great guys the Weasley twins were, different than the prat their younger brother could be sometimes. This time, you stepped forward with no hesitation, letting Fred close the door softly.

The room was larger than you’d imagined, trinkets and tools were scattered on every surface, and boxes were stacked until they almost touched the ceiling. There were two desks shoved into the corner and papers covered every inch. You took your time, wandering along the workbench, taking all of it in. Spinning around, your eyes met his instantly.

“You know who I am.” Was all you could say.

Fred cocked his head to the side, “what was that?”

“Erm - just then, when George asked who I was. Well, you knew my name.”

“Why wouldn’t I? We went to school together for four years. You’ve worked across the street from me for a year. I’d be an absolute loon not to notice you.”

Your mouth gaped open in surprise, “I’m pretty sure George has no clue who I am.”

“Yeah, he can be a bit blind when it comes to pretty girls. Only has eyes for Angelina and whatnot.” Fred said absentmindedly, waving his wand and a chair pulled out from the desk.

Your face flushed at the words, and you dropped into the chair. For the first time, you closed your eyes for a second, letting the events of this morning sink in. After a moment, the sound of rustling hit your ears and you opened your eyes to find Fred digging through the desk drawers.

“I have some salve here somewhere, it should take away the bruising. We had a bit of a problem with our boxing telescopes a few months ago, our sister-”

“Ginny.”

He gave you a curious look, “yeah, Ginny, she almost hexed us if we didn’t get rid of her bruise immediately.” He settled into the chair across from you, he’d shed his purple jacket and was left in a lavender button up, rolled up to the elbows, tucked into dark purple pants. Gently, he dipped his fingers into the yellow goo, lifted your wrist and dabbed it over the marks, and your eyes widened in surprise that they began fading away.

“Um, do you think you can take care of these too?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you lifted the hem of your shirt to reveal where he’d grabbed you. Fred let out a vicious growl at the sight and jumped out of his seat.

“I’ll kill him.”

Nervously, you grabbed his hand and he stopped in his tracks. “Please don’t leave. I just want to forget that it happened.”

Fred searched your face for any sign that you wanted him to go pummel the guy. When he found none, he took a deep breath and sat back down. With one hand still holding yours tightly, he used the other one to take care of the bruises on your hip, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. The silence between you two was comforting, as if there were no words needed, you just understood how each other was feeling.

“Thank you, for everything, Fred. I appreciate you getting me out of there.” You rubbed your thumb against his, hoping to comfort him some. He raised his eyes to yours and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “I’m sorry you had to pretend to be my... well, anyways, I had better get going. I need to get the shop opened eventually.” You winced as you caught a glimpse of the clock.

“You still need to get your wand fixed right?”

Groaning, you dropped your head into your hands and a lump grew in your throat, “ugh, I’d forgotten all about it. That idiot Kiddell won’t know a thing about fixing it.”

Fred drew your hands away from your face and wiped away the tear that was rolling down your cheek. “Hey, hey, none of that, it’ll be alright. If you can live without it for the day, I’ll take it to Ollivander’s personally tomorrow and get it fixed. Okay?”

“Fred, you don’t have to do that...”

“I’m not letting you go back there with that slimeball around, besides, I had a question for Mr. O anyway. Now, you don’t worry about it for another second. I’ll bring it by tomorrow afternoon.”

He opened the door for you and followed as you weaved through the shelves of Weasley products, making note of the products you found the most interesting as you passed. From a few rows over, George’s nod was the only thing that showed he’d noticed you leaving. Just as you stepped back into Diagon Alley, Fred took your hand again, casting a dark glare in the direction of Ollivander’s, and walked you all the way to the front of Flourish and Blotts.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at four. I hope the rest of your day goes well, but don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“I’m a big girl, Fred, I’m sure I can manage to do my job.” You teased him softly. “Thank you again, I’ll keep an eye out for you tomorrow. If you get too busy, just send the wand with a messenger.”

“I won’t be too busy for you, love.”

Butterflies flew around your stomach at his words, then he was striding back to Weasley Wizard Wheezes, not giving you a chance to reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’d been two months since Fred had saved you at Ollivander’s. Two months since Fred had told Christian that he was your boyfriend. And it’d been two months of Christian’s leery stares from across the alley that made you keep up the charade.

You’d fallen into a comfortable rhythm with Fred because of this. You’d started to use the floo network out of his flat every day, where he’d walk you straight to the shop door, then he’d pick you back up at the end of the day and bring you back to the flat. Sometimes he would pop in at lunch with ice cream from Florean’s, always remembering your favorite flavor.

“Life is uncertain, love, eat the dessert first.” He’d always say when you pestered him about eating sweets so early in the day.

On the good days, you’d stay for dinner, enjoying the company of the twins. After dinner, you and Fred would sit on his couch and talk for hours. His favorite thing was listening to you reminisce about their pranks from an “outsider perspective”, as he called it, or all the things the other houses said about the twins. Embarrassingly you’d blurted out one night that the other houses all assumed Fred and George shared everything, even girls.

His eyes had darkened and he said harshly, “I definitely don’t share.” Then he was back to normal, asking you to tell another story. Your stomach had done somersaults for the rest of the night thinking about how husky his voice had gotten and how his stare had zeroed in on you. Something that had begun to happen more often as you spent more time with Fred. Sometimes you forgot completely that this was a pretend relationship. Your heart had certainly forgotten after him always calling you nicknames or holding your hand every time he had the opportunity.

Now it was the week before Christmas and you’d left Fred’s alone, while he was tucked into bed recovering from a cold. You’d shouted a quick goodbye to George as you dashed out the front door, already deep in thought about the chicken noodle soup you planned to bring Fred at lunch that you hadn’t noticed Christian saunter into the store and lean on the wall.

“That’s a cute sweater.” He drawled loudly.

Your eyes widened at the sound of his voice and you looked down to see Fred’s christmas sweater, a large ‘F’ on the front. He’d given it to you last night when he’d noticed your goosebumps and you had selfishly taken it home with you, unable to part with the soft wool and his soothing scent.

“What do you want, Christian?” You snapped as harshly as you could muster.

He peeled himself off the wall like gum on the bottom of a shoe, giving you a wicked grin and began to walk around the shop. “Where’s your ‘boyfriend’, sugar?” He used his fingers to make quotes around the word boyfriend and flush grew up your neck.

“Where Fred is, is none of your business. Now either tell me what you need or kindly leave.” You said sternly, trying to keep the growing knots in your stomach from getting worse.

He rolled his eyes and kept on strolling, a spider weaving its web. “What I think is that he got tired of carrying around dead weight. Got tired of having to pretend that he was into someone as bland as you just so I couldn’t have a go. I know he isn’t really your boyfriend, sugar, and I’ve been waiting for him to grow bored of running back and forth with you every day.”

Your heart sank at the thought of Fred getting tired of you, unable to recognize the truth from Christian’s cruel words. You’d been enjoying every wonderful moment you got to spend with the red-headed troublemaker, who had pleasantly surprised you with a genuine heart and an unwavering ability to make you laugh. But maybe Christian was right. Fred had only made up that lie to keep you safe, had kept track of you so that you couldn’t be bothered again. Maybe you really were a burden on Fred’s life.

“I don’t know why you bother with that sad excuse for a man anyways,” Your head whipped up at that comment and you narrowed a glare on him, “him and his lousy brother are just a disgrace to the name of wizard.” He had stepped behind the edge of the counter at the last word, a nasty sneer on his face.

“You will never be even half the man that Fred, or George for that matter, is. All you are is a lowlife with nothing better to do than prey on women. And let’s be honest,

the only woman who’d be interested in you would have to be blind and deaf.”

“When are you going to give this up? I can tell that you want me, just stop playing hard to get.” His voice dripped with venom as he trailed his fingers up your arm.

Stepping back, bewildered, you yanked out your wand and pointed it at him, “petrificus totalus!” Sparks shot out and whirled around him. Christian’s body snapped together instantly, his eyes wide with panic, and his large body tumbled backwards with a loud thump.

You easily slipped your wand back into your jeans and stood over Christian, a spiteful smile on your face. “Now, I suggest you keep the Weasley’s names out of your mouth or I may be convinced to give you a tail.” You looked up at the sound of the doorbell to see George standing there, a shocked expression on his face. “George, would you mind getting Mr. Ollivander? I need to discuss his apprentice’s hobbies with him.”

George smirked at you, “remind me never to get on your bad side.”

The rest of the day had disappeared in a blur. You’d had a long discussion with Ollivander about Christian’s behavior, had fielded hundreds of customers all day with the holidays looming, and all you wanted to do was crawl into your bed and sleep for a day.

Before you could, you had one last person you had to talk to. You’d waved at George, receiving an encouraging smile in return, before you trudged up the stairs to the flat. Letting yourself in, you took your time walking to Fred’s room, stopping outside the closed door. You knocked softly, praying that he might be too tired to talk.

A soft ‘come in’ came from the room and you opened the door to find Fred sitting at his desk, papers all around him. He peaked over his shoulder, a smile spreading on his face at the sight of you.

“Hello doll, I was wondering where you were at.”

“I kept the store open late for all the last minute customers, it’s been crazy all day.” You said, sinking onto Fred’s bed across from him. “Looks like you’re feeling better?”

“Loads.” He stood up from his desk and moved to the open spot beside you, casually wrapping his arm around your back. “George said you had an eventful morning.”

Forcing yourself to look at him, you blanched, “he told you about that?”

“Of course he did. I was hoping you’d come visit me at lunch to tell me yourself.”

“I wanted to see you, I just got busy with all the customers.” You swallowed at the lie. At the fact that you were just too chicken to stop this thing with him. “I guess now you don’t have to bother with me anymore.”

Fred raised an eyebrow at you, confusion in his eyes, “what are you talking about, love?”

“You know,” you gestured between the two of you, “this can end. You don’t have to keep pretending to be my boyfriend. Mr. Ollivander said he was terminating Christian’s apprenticeship, so we don’t have to see him anymore.”

“I know that, darling, George told me.”

You shook Fred’s arm off you and stood up, starting to pace back and forth. “So, you know, you don’t have to be bothered with me anymore. You can go back to your normal life, forget I exist and all of that.” Fred chuckled and you paused to shoot him an angry look.

“Darling-”

“Don’t darling me, Fred. I’m not blind, I know you could have any bird around and I’ve just been putting a damper on that-”

“But-”

“No buts, Fred. You’re clever, generous, utterly hilarious, and any girl would go absolutely batty to have your affection. I just can’t stand in your way anymore, I need to let you find someone who’s going to make you happy-”

“Woman, will you just stop talking and let me say something?” Fred interjected as he moved in front of you, his hands landing on your shoulders. You shivered at the sensation of his thumbs running along your neck, every word disappearing from your mind. “Well?”

“You-you told me to stop talking...”

“Right, I did.” He hesitated, his brown eyes scanned your face and your body warmed as they lingered on your lips for a moment too long. “Sweetheart, I know that this may have started because that little prick didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself, but when I saw you that day, looking so scared and alone - I’ve never wanted to take care of someone more in my life.”

“Fred-”

“It’s my turn to talk, love. I haven’t been spending all this time with you as some game or some reason for your safety. I like spending time with you because you make me smile. I look forward to the moment I get to see you in the morning, I spend all day thinking about how I might get you to stay a few more minutes every night. God, I love the sight of you, standing here in my sweater.” He swallowed thickly, “I-I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Blood rushed to your ears, muffling the world around you. Fred’s hands on your shoulders were the only things keeping your knees from buckling. Stumbling backwards, you sat back down and stared at him. He rubbed his hands against his thighs nervously, watching to see what you would do next.

“God I just screwed that up. I hadn’t meant to say it like that. I had planned to make you a nice dinner and get you some flowers. Preferably not while I was still in pajamas. I’m so sorry, darling. Please say something.”

“You love me?” You croaked out.

“Does that scare you?” Fred knelt down in front you, his hands brushing your waist as he pulled you closer.

“Yes- No- I’m not sure. It only scares me because I’m not sure I’m worthy of you.”

“Wor- what are you talking about? George told me about how you stuck up for us and that wicked hex you put on Christian. Bloody hell, I’m in awe of you, woman.”

You were at a loss for words, the sincerity in his voice bringing you to tears. Giving him a shaky smile, you draped your arms around his neck. He leaned back to get a better look at your face, nervous that you might reject him still.

“Fred Weasley, I’m falling in love with you too.”

An astonished grin spread across his face, his brown eyes shining with glee. Gradually, Fred leaned closer, his lips hovering inches from yours. Your breath hitched and you closed the distance swiftly, sinking into a deep kiss. A quiet moan escaped you causing him to lift you up flush against his chest.

Sooner than you’d wanted, he pulled back, letting your lip snap back reluctantly. Quickly he pecked another few sweet kisses on your lips and you sighed at the feeling. His forehead rested against yours and you giggled quietly at the suddenness of everything.

“What do you say, love, can I still tell people you’ve got a boyfriend?” Fred asked cheekily.

Chuckling, you said, “only if that boyfriend is you.”

“It’s about time you two figured it out.” Splitting apart, you both turned around to find George leaning against the door frame, a cup of tea in his hand. Fred yanked a pillow off the bed and chucked it in his direction, barely missing George as he dodged it. “Alright, alright, I’ll give you two lovebirds some privacy. Have fun.” You listened for the door to click before you leapt forward to kiss Fred again.

[subbing-for-clones]

The New Apprentice Part 8

Maul x Sith!reader 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Yall it has been a God damn week I'll tell you that. So sorry it has taken me so long to get this out. Fair warning, had to do some already known stuffs to move the story along the timeline and I just wasn't feeling it while writing, but it's important to the timeliness nonetheless.

WARNINGS: 18+ P in V sex, unprotected sex, Canon violence. Kinda angsty at the end? Idk.

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       The following morning you awoke alone in your tent. The cool morning air aiding to shake the fog from your mind as you thought of the previous night. A smile twitched on your lips that was soon replaced with a heavy eye roll. One of your pant legs had been torn up the seam by the medic who worked on you. Shrugging, you ripped off the tattered fabric and did the same to the other to match. Sliding on your now short one piece you pulled on your boots, hung your sabers from your hips and left your little shelter.

    You knew why Maul left; he didn't want anyone to think the two of you were involved until the situation was less vulnerable. You were thankful he waited until you were asleep before he absconded into the darkness. Maker, you had to stop thinking about it lest you rile yourself up again. It was time to go to work, continue to prove to your master that you deserved to be at his side. That he needed you there.

    You were relieved that Savage followed behind you a few minutes later. At least you weren't the last one up. Pre and Maul strode through the camp with you and Savage following closely behind.

"We will need an army if we are to successfully take back Mandalore." Your master rumbled.

"The people will support us once we remind them who they are." Pre retorted.

"Perhaps... but the Black Suns will be able to provide us with resources beneath the attention of the Republic."

"They're a crime syndicate!"

"Yes, and a powerful one that will lead to our victory. We have but one chance to pull this off."

      Boarding a Mandalorian starship with your Master and Savage was quiet. You had decided to keep your mouth shut and revel in Maul's ability to command and scheme. You stood at Savage's side with your hands clasped behind your back, back straight and chin high. Your weapons dangled dangerously at your hips. Every so often a Mandalorian would look at you curiously through their visor to which you responded the same every time. You gazed into their black where their unseen eyes lay behind, unblinking with a straight lip and an air of importance until they turned away. Savage quirked a lip slightly every time.

When you were alone he rumbled quietly.

"You make them uneasy. Much more than I do I think."

"I hardly doubt that my friend." Your voice soft and cold in the off chance someone could hear you.

"Possibly... they fear us."

"Good. Then they will stay in line under Lord Maul. A warrior should never show fear. They may be strong but they've shown a vital weakness we will exploit in time if necessary."

    Maul was the only one within ear shot and he silently listened to your words. Although he didn't show it at the time externally, his chest swelled in pride.

    After landing on Mustafar they were greeted with a battalion led by a tall Falleen male by the name of Vigo Ziton Maj. He chuckled when your master harshly requested an audience but he led Maul, Savage, Pre Vizsla and yourself inside the fortress anyway.

    Five more men sat at a long black table upon your entrance. When demanded that they join you, you were met with exclamations of amusement and they attempted to call for your deaths.

    Without hesitation you and Savage each tossed a spinning lightsaber in their direction. Effectively beheading each and every one of the leaders in single mirrored motions. After seeing first handedly that denial of an alliance would lead to death, Moj, the next in line to lead agreed to join your cause without hesitation.

    The Pykes practically handed themselves over to you once news about the Black Suns had reached their ears. The offer of their alliance was a grateful surprise to you. Recognizing the slow shift in universal power only spurred your attraction to your master. Visions of you riding his throbbing cock permeated your mind and drifted to his.

    On the ride to Nal Hutta these thoughts only grew in intensity as your sinful need grew. It had been days since he had last touched you and although you maintained an outward composure, your mind reeled. With only a few hours until your arrival, Maul strode past you, pausing momentarily to give you a knowing glance and ever so slight nod of his head. You waited a minute before following his force signature until a supply closet door hissed open. He grabbed you almost violently, pulling you within the small enclosure. He listened to be sure you weren't followed before he turned to you.

"My my what devious thoughts you project little one." He cooed as he pulled you into his embrace. With your back to his chest, he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, planting gentle wet kisses to your sensitive skin and lightly nipping at your ear. You took his hand and covered your mouth to stifle a whimper as he ground his hardening cock into your rear. You could feel the heat of your core as his velvety voice hummed in the ear he was toying with.

"Now, I'd much rather take my time with you but it seems you need some tension released. I'll need you clear headed on this venture. I believe the Hutt Clan will give us the most trouble in forming an alliance. Would you like my help my sweet little apprentice?"

    You nodded fervently, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he slid your one piece down until it pooled on the floor. He bent you over infinitesimally, just enough to grant him entrance. He prodded his hot, firm erection against your folds letting out a silent groan feeling how wet you already were.

"God's I've hardly touched you and your soaking wet you naughty little girl."

    Without warning he slipping inside you, biting one of his fingers to keep from crying out. He thrusted into at a brutal pace, sinking to his hilt with every rut. It didn't take long before you were fluttering around him and tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Maker, you're going to cum for me.. I can feel it... Let go my dear. Cum all over my cock."

    The command he soothed had you unraveling faster than you thought possible. The excitement of the risk at being found out only encouraged your orgasm. Still shaking from the aftershocks, your master bit your shoulder as he throbbed and filled you.

    You hastily cleaned yourself, getting ready to leave before you were caught but Maul grabbed your wrist and brought you back into an embrace. Gently pressing his forehead to yours and wrapping his arms around you.

"Soon you'll be at my side at all times my dear. Would you like that?" His glowing amber eyes meeting yours.

"Yes Master, of course."

    You pressed your lips to his and trying to calm your flush you left the small enclosure with newfound resolve undoubtedly spurred by your bliss.

       Maul had been correct as usual. The Hutts were in fact quite resistant. After hearing that they wouldn't be paid and that the deal was an alliance for their lives, five bounty hunters and the whole guard rushed the room. Desperate for some leverage you deflected the barrage of incoming blaster fire along with your master while leading them slowly out to the landing platform.

Finally, she's good for something you thought as Bo Katan fired rockets into the fortress, effectively killing most of the guard.

    You gave chase back into the fortress and fought the remaining bounty hunters. Unwillingly admitting that they were giving you more trouble than you would've hoped. Darting away from a purple woman with orange hair you kicked a dog off of your master while the bounty hunters made their retreat. Maul was convinced that they wouldn't be a further threat so you let them escape with their lives and empty pockets.

    You ended up having to travel to the gods awful desert planet of Tatooine for Jabba to finally agree to your terms.

       Back on Zanbar you and Savage shared a meal while Maul oversaw the organization of the troops and mixed crime syndicates.

"You seem restless." Savage noted.

"Duuuh." You exasperated. "All this planning and waiting and organizing. Ugh, I wanna go fuck shit up. We've been so busy with the boring shit I haven't even had time to train. Aside from that bounty hunter scuffle."

"Worry not little one, you'll be terrorizing the Mandalorians planet side with everyone soon enough." You scoffed at his response to which he cocked his brow.

"No, I'm not. Master wants me in the shadows. Something about the people recognizing me later on being a problem with his grand scheme."

"He has a habit of only telling half of a truth. Trust comes slowly to him. You know this." You sighed, pushing away your plate and pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Yes, I'm well aware. More so than he would like I'm sure."

"He cares very deeply for you."

"And I him but all this sitting around will get me nowhere. I told you about what happened on Malachor... for the first time since I've joined you two it feels like my feet are taking me some where I'm not supposed to go... it's been weeks and the only thing I've learned in that time frame is how to take his cock in secret, away from prying eyes."

    Savage nearly choked and also disregarded his food and sat looking at you with a pained look in his eyes.

"What will you do then?"

"Honestly? I haven't the faintest idea. All I know is that I'm supposed to 'extinguish the fear but always remember that 'the shadow cannot exist without the light' whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean."

"If you don't know what it means how do you know you're on the wrong path?" You paused at his question.

"Jedi and Sith both always say to trust in the force... I need to meditate on this."

    Savage nodded as you stood from your seat walking back towards your tent. Your master was a strong force user and ever since that night you two had opened up your minds to one another, truly lay bare before the other, it was damn near impossible to keep him out. When you passed him and Vizsla you had known they couldn't hear your conversation but the way that his eyes followed you. A specific crease in his brow. You had no doubt it had anything to do with Vizsla's ramblings, you realized he probably felt your conflict.

    Disappearing into your canvas enclosure you tried to push the thought of your lover, no, your master; down and away from the forefront of your mind. Gods above though, he was your lover. You loved him, so much. What if he was guiding you away from the place you needed to go? Everything felt right before you allied with the Death Watch. The weeks you spent training and traveling to Malachor felt right. But this, this felt like it was his path not yours. If your destinies didn’t cross would he abandon his to join you? Could you abandon yours to join him? You knelt in the center of your tent and straightened your back, closing your eyes. Allowing your mind to rest, allow the wild eradications to still and drift away. This was important. This was your destiny. You suddenly realized why, although you'd never admit it, the Jedi forbid attachments in their freakish cult.

[themusicplayedherlife]

To Love is the Greatest Gift

1. The Return

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarn x f!reader) characters: f!reader, anakin amidala-skywalker, padmé amidala-skywalker, mentiones of din djarin, obi wan kenobi, others word count: 2.6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of rent: the musical (death, second chances) uh... I think that’s it? summary: au!it’s never been the right timing for you and obi wan kenobi; maybe this time will be different. a/n: i started working on this story so long ago it’s ridiculous, but I suddenly had a surge of motivation to continue this story after some tragic family news. this was also very much inspired by @martlands and their amazing obi wan stories, made me want to write my own and here it is

all || next

“You broke up?”

One would think that the immediate reaction to someone asking if you broke up with your significant other would be to cry or begin to ask them what could have possibly gone wrong. But that’s not the reaction you give. 

The reaction you give is just a shrug and a strong pop, as you spoon more gelato onto the little spoon his twins love collecting. “Yep.”

“After only three weeks of dating?” Anakin doesn’t know why he’s surprised, but he is. This is probably the shortest living relationship you’ve ever had. “Why?”

“Why not?” you answer easily, nonchalantly and you know it frustrates him. “It wasn’t working out, so we decided to call it quits.”

Not even a month ago, you had been genuinely excited about finally getting out there and meeting someone new, and even more excited when you were telling him all about this person you met while out with some old friends. You had said, word for word, “he might be the perfect contender!”

Where did all that excitement go?

You sigh, finally looking up at him and away from your white chocolate gelato that's just to die for. “Ani, it’s fine. It just didn’t work out. It happens.”

He grimaces. “What happened between you and Din—“

You bristle at the mention of your ex, narrowing your eyes and his widen in defense. You know what Anakin and Padmé think of him and it’s not entirely pleasant (particularly from Anakin’s part). It’s completely unfair. Din is lovely, sure a little socially awkward, but lovely nonetheless. “Has nothing to do with why Gar and I ended things.”

“But—“

“Nothing,” you reiterate with a bit more force and he sighs, lifting his hands in defeat while holding his own cup of gelato.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry.” And then, like a light switching, he turns playful. “Was it his name that turned you off—Gar?”

You resist the urge to groan and roll your eyes. “Oh maker, you are annoying!”

You huff as you make the trek back to the trolley that’ll take you both up to the observatory. The rest of your conversation is forgotten as he navigates it towards continuing to tease you and the latest exhibit you had helped set up.

The Coruscant Observatory is one of the most popular attractions in the city aside from the Exotic Animal Sanctuary (where most zoologist work to help rehabilitate wild animals before reintroducing them back into the wild, only housing the ones that have been assessed to not be able to function in the wild on their own—which are unfortunately many).

Your place of work is known for its large, ground telescope; its monthly constellation exhibits; the multiple planetarium theater rooms that house lectures, activities, star projections, etc.; and its Astronomer Q&A program where visitors can ask astronomers questions and even get a tour of the space station.

However, most of your days are spent in your office, planning for the next exhibit or actually executing them with your team; meanwhile, Anakin spends them in tech, sometimes maintaining the telescope, other times helping with IT issues, but mostly making sure the theater rooms worked perfectly for their 4D immersion.

(You like to joke that out of the two of you, he has it easiest; sometimes he’ll run by your office to get to another part of the building while you’re doing something and you’ll yell out, “slacker” and he’ll respond with, “you just work too much”.)

“Are Padmé and the twins stopping by today?”

“Not today, maybe tomorrow,” he says as you both step out of the trolley along with a few tourists. “I think today they decided to stay for some school thing.”

“Shouldn’t you know what that school thing is?” you chide him out of jest.

He scowls, there’s hardly any heat in it and it makes you grin. “It’s a music performance that the CN Theater is putting on.”

“Ah, and we all know how much musicals bores you.”

“I just don’t understand them,” he murmurs defensively as you climb the few steps leading to the entrance. The two of you smiling and greeting Rex at his security post and bypassing the ticket gate with your IDs.

“You mean you don’t have any taste,” you tease.

“It’s weird! I mean, most of them are all about tragedies and betrayals. What happened to the good ol’ romance and happy endings?”

“Not all of them are tragedies, Casanova.”

The main rotunda lobby is full of people milling about, looking at maps or the foucault pendulum in the middle of the room. Low chatter fills the room, shoes clicking and clacking against the marble flooring.

“Name one.”

Spotting the trash can and recycle bin, Anakin holds his hand out for your disposable cup and spoon and throws them away in their proper bin.

“Rent.” There are probably better examples, but you had been listening to the original cast album the night before and have all the songs still stuck in your head.

“Don’t two characters die?”

“Angel and Mimi.” You nod. “But Mimi is brought back to life by Angel, and is given a second chance at life.”

“She may have been brought back to life, but that doesn’t take away from the fact she died.”

“I’m not arguing with you on that, I’m just saying the ending was hopeful—not necessarily a happy ending, but it left you thinking—maybe things can get better.”

“And that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for—“

“What you and Padmé have?” you ask him as you both reach the door of your office.

He pauses, mouth opening and closing before finally rubbing the back of his head sheepishly and saying, “Yeah.”

You smile, genuine and happy for your childhood friend. Who would’ve thought that years ago when you introduced them, they’d be here years later—married and with twins. You and Anakin sure as hell didn’t. For most of your childhood, you both believed you’d live out your life on Tatooine, hang with the same friends you’ve known since your pre-kinder days and eventually get married to each other—much to the dismay of your parents—because of benefits or whatever, until your parents decided they wanted to send you off to a private school in one of the major cities, derailing your and Anakin’s plan (for the better, if you’re being honest).

“You’re still coming over for dinner, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer, unlocking your office door with your key. “I have a meeting that might go over the expected time, but I should be able to make it on time.”

“Just let us know,” he says, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “But you better be there! We have some planning to do!”

You roll your eyes and wave him away, promising he and his family will definitely see you at five. With a hearty chuckle he salutes you and leaves the door slightly ajar, just like you usually do. It’s your “you can come in to ask me questions, but knock first, please” visual telling.

With a soft exhale, you drop yourself into your creaking office chair, eyes landing on the first picture on your right—a younger you, only 18, fresh out of your uniform smiling wildly with a large bouquet of flowers that you can still distinctly remember the smell of.

“I am in love!” Padmé exclaimed, squealing in absolute delight at the flowers put in your hand.

Blue eyes crinkled with amusement, staring down at you. “Are you?” His voice was low, teasing and almost smug. He had obviously heard the gasp that escaped your lips when he presented you the colorful bouquet created with your favorite flowers that his father grew in their little garden.

“Irrevocably,” you answered, not able to hide your smile as you gently held it against your chest and smiled up at him. “They’re beautiful, Obi. Thank you.”

Obi Wan’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder, caught in the action of a booming laughter. He was always laughing in pictures. There isn’t a single picture you have of him that he isn't smiling.

Your finger gently trails over his smiling face. Maker, you miss him.

Is he still traveling? Or has he finally settled down again? Will he show up and spring some unexpected news on you again? Stars, you hope not. Shit didn’t go as planned last time and it probably wouldn’t again.

Your hand falls limply and you swivel in your seat, looking out the large glass window overlooking the majority of the city and sigh softly—an exhale of wary hope and sadness.

A bird soars by your window, it’s wings flapping effortlessly, diving before flying higher and away.

He’s not coming back. You know this. Coruscant just isn’t the same anymore. Not when he feels this city has taken everything from him.

One more year visiting Gui Gon without him.

The meeting runs longer than it usually would, just like you had expected. Checking the time, you let out a curse and quickly throw your belongings into your car.

Without wasting time, as soon as you switch on your engine, you place your phone on the dock and say, “Hey C-3PO, call Padmé.”

“Calling Padmé,” your phone’s AI answers through the speakers of your car.

“Are you outside?” Is how she greets you. There are loud noises in the background, children squabbling about something or another, and Anakin’s weary voice trying to rally them. 

You snort, pulling out of the undergroundparking lot. “Not yet, barely got out of my meeting and am on my way.”

“Please hurry, the twins really want to see you and are dying from hunger,” she says, amusement in her voice and not at all trying to hurry you. “They might start eating Anakin soon.”

“Hey, don’t bite that!” He yells from a distance.

“Hurry, please!” you hear over the phone—Luke. “I miss you,” he says, closer now. Which you immediately reply saying you miss him too, almost cutting off the next voice.

“And I’m hungry!” Leia’s voice follows his, practically yelling into the phone.

You laugh fondly, just imagining the childish glee on their faces at your scandalized gasps and your exaggerated “me too” answers.

“Leia, no yelling,” Padmé scolds her, gentle and kind. “Softer, please.”

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m hungry,” she repeats, softer, almost a whisper.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there,” you promise. “If not, you have my permission to start eating your dad.”

Leia and Luke break into a fit of laughter, yelling something away from the phone to Anakin, who once again lets out a loud, “Hey!”

Padmé chuckles, moving away from the voices of the children tackling their father and their play fighting. “Take your time, we’re not in any hurry to start eating. The kids had a hearty lunch and a snack after school.”

“What about you and Anakin?”

“We’re fine, don’t worry. Just get here safely and we’ll see you soon.”

You end the call with one last reassurance from her and let out a loud sigh when your car comes to a stop behind a long line of glaring red lights—traffic. You hate traffic.

You might be surrounded by blinding lights and different models of vehicles, but it leaves you alone with your thoughts, the low hum of your engine and music from your stereo drowned out by the chattering in your head. 

It’s never just one thing that you think about. It can go from one thing to another, to all of them trying to climb over eachother and be the most present: your friends; your family; the dog next door; Din and Baby; cinnamon apple cookies; the beach house in Naboo; sneaking out of the prep dormitories at 2am with Padmé keeping an eye out and Obi Wan holding his arms out for you; rose gardens and peach tea; freckles on blushing skin; drunken singing in a small living room; 21st birthdays crying in a bathroom stall; that stupid movie quote about choosing life; death; but sometimes (most occurring) it’s Obi Wan that weaves into every thought.

He’s a constant plague in your mind, has been since the first time he left Coruscant in search of himself. 

Sometimes they’re pleasant thoughts, memories kept in a nostalgic trunk that you occasionally like to sift through. Other times, they’re not so pleasant; those are the ones you constantly struggle with, try to push into the recesses of your mind and keep them under lock and key. But for some stupid, strange reason, your mind only ever remembers the bad, even when there are better things to dwell on.

“I just—I just don’t understand why you have to leave—Obi. Obi!” you practically yelled, watching him move around his room, grabbing and throwing things he pulled out into his duffel bag. “Listen to me!” 

He didn’t stop, not until you reached for his duffel bag and plucked it out from his hands. He stared at you, his duffel bag carelessly thrown to the floor with his clothes spilling out. 

Your breathing was labored, a sick feeling swimming in your stomach, words stuck in your throat now that he wasn’t hiding his beautiful blue eyes from you—his devastatingly heartbroken eyes. “I have to,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I need to leave. This house—this city, it's suffocating me. I can’t—I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Obi… Obi, please.” You can’t leave me. You can’t! Please! Please, Obi.

“I need to do this for me, darling. I’m sorry.”

You should’ve fought harder that night, should’ve convinced him to stay, but instead you helped him pack again with tears obstructing your view and sobs escaping your lips. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have lost him.

No, your breath stutters as you lean back into your car seat, there was nothing you could’ve done. Either times. He had made up his mind long before that night.

A car honks their horn to your left and you jump, eyes focusing once more on the red lights of the car in front of you. You wipe at your face harshly and straighten your spine. 

That was years ago, little one. Shake it off. 

Sighing softly, you look up at the street name and make a turn onto the Skywalker residence street, your shoulders relaxing when their two story home comes into view.  

Shake it off.

Parking isn't easy to find in their neighborhood, not when it’s so close to the observatory and some of the most visited parks in the area, but you manage to find one just two cars away from their house. 

Gathering your things, you lock the door behind you and quickly make your way down the sidewalk, phone in your hand and typing out a message that you’re here.

It’s while you’re hitting send that you don’t notice the body in front of you, staring up at the house with an almost wary expression on his face, or how his eyes widen when they see you. It’s not until you collide into his body, soft with a fleece cardigan, that you notice him. Embarrassment begins to boil in your blood as you quickly apologize to him, berating yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings.

“Kriff, I’m so sorry—“ you start, but the apology catches in your throat when you look up.

“Hello, there.” Blue eyes, so soft and kind, like the ones you once used to dream of stare back at you—so unlike the pair of eyes you saw years ago. “It’s been a long time, darling.”

You can’t shake him off.

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