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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

Alliance

Chapter 4 – The Saviour

(Mando x f!reader)

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Summary: Your pursuit of the child leads you to the outer reaches of the Galaxy. After escaping imperial forces you find yourself out of the frying pan and into the fire on an unpredictable and ever changing planet.

Notes: Hope everyone who celebrates it had a lovely Christmas yesterday and that everyone else is enjoying some time off! Thank you for the likes and the reblogs (those truly brought a tear to my eye!)

TW: Swearing, drownings, violence

Word count: 5.7 k (this one really got away from me)

Tagged list: @crazycookiecrumbles

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Outer reaches, Deep Space

“So where are we? Outer rim?” you ask, hoping whatever the answer was, it was close to your final destination. It’s been a few days since you had left Tatooine and you were starting to go stir crazy.

“Even further, are you sure that it’s right?”

“Anya,” you emphasize, scratching her behind the ear “is never wrong.”

“How do you know? I thought no one ever met you and lived to tell the tale.”

“I miss when you wouldn’t string more than two words together” you say dodging the question. “Trust me she’s not wrong.” After another few hours of silence you hear the modulator tune in again

“How does it work? The kid can’t talk. He can’t explain it to me.”

You know what he’s referring to but you're tired and really didn't want to get into a discussion with him knowing it would likely end in an argument. Besides you were still trying to suss out if he could be trusted.

“And who says I’m going to.” you state bluntly.

“Trust goes both ways”

“And what’s that supposed to mean Mandalorian?” you retort.

“You ask me to trust you, but don’t extend the favor.” he explains.

“I think showing you my ability to use the force would constitute an act of trust to most. Not like you’ve given me many a reason to trust you.”

“So it is the force you use?” he says, evidently priding himself on getting an answer out of you. A few more hours pass, getting tired of the silence you decide sleeping is your best option at passing the time.

“Wake me if anything happens” you say nestling back into your seat.

“You can use the bed if you want” he offers, likely knowing just how uncomfortable the chairs were.

“Wouldn’t want to impose on your hospitality anymore than I already have.” you say, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

You wake up in unfamiliar surroundings the first thing you notice is the unmistakable cold. You exhale causing a small cloud to appear from between your lips as the warmth of your insides meets the frigid temperatures surrounding you. As you sit up you take note of the room you're in, its grey, metallic, industrial almost medicinal. You shift off the small bed placing your feet down on the white tiled floor. Your bare feet make contact with the floor reinstating how cold it was. Had you crashed? You move out into the hallway and begin walking through the building the fluorescent lights flickering in time with each step. Where were you? How had you gotten here?“Mandalorian” you shout hesitantly. Your voice echoes through the hallway, but there’s no reply. Where was he? The hairs on the back of your neck stand up only this time the cold is not to blame. Someone or something was here with you. You continue to the end of the hallway pulling on a nearby lever which opens a door revealing a scene of white. You lift your hand up to your eyes trying to block your face from the violent winds swirling around you. You want to turn around, head back inside where you were at least protected from the wind, but your feet lead you further out into the frozen landscape. Through your fingers you’re able to make out a shadow belonging to a figure standing alone, unmoving even in the wind. You're close enough to reach out for it, but as you make contact the cloak drops. The figure is gone but their presence isn't, your blood runs cold when you hear a voice whisper behind you.“y/n”.

You shoot awake, your heart’s beating out of your chest. You look from side to side cold sweat dripping down your face. You hadn’t had a nightmare like that since you had first begun killing in the rings. What the hell had brought it on? The seemingly unfazed Mandalorian looks over to you.

“You okay?” He asks apathetically. You ignore his question assuming it was rhetorical. Nonetheless you were glad to be back in familiar company.

“You should get some rest, I can take over for now.” You say, using the back of your sleeve to wipe off the sweat plastered to your forehead.

“Don’t touch anything,” he says, getting up and walking down the stairs returning again after about an hour. You didn’t understand how he survived on so little sleep. You stand up allowing him to sit back down in the pilot's seat. You stare aimlessly out into space, still slightly shaken by how vivid your dream sequence had been, but that's all it was, a dream. Best to let it go.

“We’re here. dropping out of hyperspace now” he says flicking a few switches. As he does you’re launched forward, not having been paying attention to what he was saying. Fortunately, the Mandalorians' reflexes were fast and he managed to wrap his free arm around your waist just in time to stop you from flying head first through the window. As the ship stabilizes he pushes you back down into your chair.

“Seatbelts” he says, not once making eye contact with you.

“Some warning would have been nice” you say, doing up the belt trying to deflect from the sudden heat you had felt come over you. You gaze out at the planet before you. It’s covered in what appears to be a dense forest with a few mountains and high plateaus cutting between the treescapes like veins. Landing on a plateau the Mandalorian scans the planet.

“No sign of life here. Looks like your pet was wrong.” He says dialing up the ship again.

“Wait. Stop.” you say getting up from your seat and dropping down to the lower level opening the door before he can take off again. Frustrated he turns off the ship and follows you out. The forest was tropical, huge palm trees reached high up in the sky and a dampness clung to the air. You hear the modulator click, but you shush him causing the T-visor to turn to you clearly not-amused.

“There’s something here.” you say

“Maybe, but I’m not sticking around to find out what” he says making a grab for your arm, you dodge him stepping just out of his reach causing his hand to close around the air, further aggravating him.

“It could be the child.” You say, a warm breeze causing some of your hair to blow freely.

“How do you know?” he asks.

“I just feel it”

“Fine.” He says, re-entering the ship in order to shut it down completely. Taking a deep breath you feel the air around you. It was surprisingly salty, more well suited for a mineral based planet or an ocean. You re-enter the ship and see the Mandalorian throwing supplies into a bag.

“You got another one of those?” you ask. He continues packing, ignoring your question. “I like to carry my own weight.” You say louder this time, moving into his line of sight. Reluctantly he hands you a slightly smaller rucksack and you begin packing supplies into it.

“Seems pretty warm out there we should be fine without these.” he says moving the blankets you had pulled out aside, did he have to fight you on everything?

“Better safe than sorry.” You say pulling them back towards you, not willing to give him an inch.

“What?” he puzzles

“It’s a saying.” You say looking up from your bag and over to the expressionless helmet, “did you have many of those on Mandalore, or was it only ‘this is the way’” you say in a mock deep voice.

“I’m not from Mandalore and that’s not funny.” He says, stuffing a few preserves into his bag, filling it to its brim.

“Well, I think it’s hilarious” You say strapping your bag across your chest. “Alright, let’s get to the good stuff” you say making your way over to the armoury. He opens it up, and you reach for the spear that had caught your eye earlier.

“Not that one.” He says reaching over you and moving it aside before lifting his preferred weapons off. Slightly disgruntled at being denied you look up at the wall again and take down the bow and arrow he’d procured.

“Let’s get this over with,” you say pushing past him and out of the door. You’re walking for what feels like hours in the heat and humidity trapped in by the forest's thick leaf coverage. Your water supplies were already running low and the two of you were getting slower with each step. At least the sun was being blocked out. You know you’ve been moving in the same direction since you let the ship, but it felt like you were going in circles. You stop, placing the back of your hand on his chest plate to halt him.

“You hear that? We’re near water. Let’s hope it’s drinkable” You say, smiling as you turn back to him. The smile fades when you notice he’s tensed up. “What?” you ask, prompting and inaudible grumble from underneath the Mandalorians helmet.

“Sorry what was that?”

“I don’t like water.”

“Why?” you ask, slightly bemused by his revelation.

“Can’t swim.” He says

“What seriously? Honestly you have to answer me. I can’t read you over the helmet.”

“Yes seriously. Don’t laugh at me, I bet you can’t shoot a blaster.”

“I can shoot a blaster.” You say stifling your laughter.

“I meant well and on target.” He says smugly, evidently trying to gain an upper hand in the argument.

“You’re insufferable.” You scoff.

“Shh” he says, suddenly changing the tone of the conversation at hand.

“Don’t shush me Mandalorian I’m not a child”

“Shut up.” You’re about to talk back when you feel something approaching, you curse yourself for having picked up on it earlier. You should have been paying better attention to your surroundings.

“Drop your weapons scum, hands in the air”. A modulated voice says from behind the two of you.

“You couldn’t have sensed that,” the Mandalorian says wryly. The two of you place your weapons on the ground and turn around, slowly raising your hands in the air as you come face to face with two stormtroopers.

“The Mandalorian, good our boss will be thrilled to know we have the man who screwed him over to rescue a child.” The trooper on the left says, causing you to inadvertently stare up at the beskar clad man only just realizing the reason he was so desperate to get back to the child, he loved it.

“Listen I…” you start

“Shut it, you’re on the list as well darling.” The trooper on the right says. You roll your eyes and the Mandalorian starts negotiations, but you’ve come up with a better plan. With the troopers distracted you slowly lower the hand which was currently hidden behind the Mandalorians broad shoulders, stopping at his waist. Thank god the blaster was still there. You pull it out of its holster and shoot down the two troopers in one swift movement. He looks down at you impressed, as you place the gun back in its holster. You mistake his admiration for annoyance.

“I know, I know, no one touches the blaster” you say maneuvering your way past the dead troopers splayed on the floor.

“We should watch our step, where there's one there bound to be more”. The two of you continue on in silence. You weren't about to be snuck up on again, and when you were talking with the Mandalorian you found yourself with tunnel vision. A clearing appears revealing a medium sized imperial base hidden beneath the thick canopy of the rainforest. The two of you duck behind a nearby rock.

“What do we have?” you ask, as he scans the building.

“Imperial outpost, 20 troopers. They must have him here” Mando says standing up. You pull him back down before anyone spots him.

“Slow down hot shot. What’s the plan?” you ask, the two of you now with your backs against the rock.

“Plan is, I go in, get the child and we leave.” He states matter of factly.

“I can help.” you emphasize causing him to stare down at you seemingly trying to assess if you can be of any use to him “Look, I’m not going to be sidelined on this.”

“Fine, but don’t slow me down,” he says.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. What's the plan captain”

“We draw out the 10 troopers patrolling the outer yard, you see that red canister there?” you nod “It’s full of Rhydonium, that bow is outfitted with an explosive device you fire it into that canister and they go up in flames. That’s half down, between the two of us I think we can take out the rest. “

“So your plan is a crap shot followed by improvisation, I like it.” You say standing up and drawing your bow.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Drawing them out, cover me. Hey Bucketheads!'' you shout causing the troopers to turn and descend upon you. Mando moves into a sniper position diverting any shots being aimed at you. As they reach the Rhydonium you press a button on the arrow and it begins to beep indicating the bomb’s been activated. With a deep inhale you lift the bow stretching the string back to your cheek before letting it fly. The arrow hits the canister and it explodes on impact setting the group of troopers ablaze and alerting the rest to your presence.

“Nice shot!” He says from below.

“Thanks, I never miss” you respond, firing another arrow which lodges itself in the neck of one of the troopers. You’re drawing yet another arrow when a blaster fires directly at you, before you have time to react the Mandalorian has moved in front of you allowing the beskar to deflect the shot. As it hits his armour you duck underneath his arm and fire again hitting another trooper as he shoots down two more.

The two of you begin to move in towards the door, only 6 left by your count. He gestures for you to take the left while he goes right. Turning the last of the corners you lower your bow when the area is clear. Upon hearing the sound of blasters going off around the corner you break into a light jog. You slow your pace down to a walk drawing another arrow and taking aim splicing through another troopers armour causing it to drop. Two of the five remaining troopers leave the Mandalorian and rush you.

Without breaking stride you religne your shot and take another down. You and the last trooper continue towards each other. You go to draw again but you’re all out of arrows. The trooper fires and you duck under his outstretched arm. Maneuvering behind him you wrap the bow around his neck pulling down towards the ground with all your strength. It’s not enough and his elbow hits you in the stomach knocking the wind out of you causing you to fall to the ground. Standing back up you raise your fists ready to fight with whatever you had available when you hear a voice yell out “Catch!”

Reaching your arm back you grab the blaster mid air. Taking aim you fire it into the chest of the last trooper.

“Thanks” you say breathlessly, turning around and offering it back to the Mandalorian.

“Keep it. Now I know you won’t blow your own arm off.” He says.

“So how do you think we're getting through this door? Blasters?” you ask jamming nonsensically at the keys on the padlock to the building.

He appears by your side with a severed finger which he places on the scanner. You look up at him slightly disturbed.

“Couldn’t have brought the whole body over?”

“You’re lucky it wasn’t an eye scanner” he deadpans, as the doors open revealing one last trooper you aim your newly acquired blaster at him.

“Wait.” Mando says, pushing the trooper up against the wall keeping him in place with a forearm across the chest “Where’s the kid?”

“Gone, we were ambushed by smugglers last week they took all of it including the thing.” He says motioning to the carrier the child must have been transported in

“He's not a thing” the Mandalorian says slamming the trooper hard into the wall shooting him as he hits the floor. During the interrogation you had walked over and removed a piece of blanket from the travel case hoping it would still have a scent strong enough for Anya to trace.

“No ships, no speeders, guess we’re walking back” he says and the two of you set back through the lush forest.

“Makers, where are we?” you say suddenly unable to remember where you were heading, the sun was beginning to set and these forests wouldn’t be safe at night. You stop and take a seat on the jungle floor. Closing your eyes you try to recenter yourself, but no luck nothing was calling to you.

“What’s the point of the force, if you can’t use it.” The Mandalorian exclaims walking ahead of you. Before you can point out that that’s not how it works something else takes precedence. You hear water and it's getting closer, but you weren’t moving. “Wait.” You say. But he’s too far ahead, to hear you. “Wait!” you yell, he turns around just in time for you to see the ground below him give way to an ocean “Mando!” you scream as you watch him disappear beneath the waves.

“Shit” you say, turning to run in the opposite direction of the fast approaching currents, but something stays your legs. You remember he can’t swim, if you left him he’d die. “So what, I could find my way back to the ship, take off and live out the rest of my days on a beach somewhere.” Then you remember the child, and how he needed the Mandalorian, and most importantly how you couldn’t fly a ship. “Fine” you say out loud more so to yourself than anyone else. You take off your bag removing anything heavy leaving only the piece of blanket and a few other necessities in it before securing it tightly across your chest. You drop the weapons onto a ground that you prayed would be there when you resurfaced and dive into the violent waves.

You don’t see him when you first open your eyes but it’s surprisingly calm under the waves, and with a little focus you manage to locate the Mandalorian. As you approach you see his thrashing body suddenly go limp, you didn’t have much time, hooking your arms under his armpits you heave upwards. You break through the surface spluttering the salt water out of your lungs which begin to refill once again with air. “Holy fuck you’re heavy” you curse. It's taking all your strength to keep both your heads above water, wherever you had left your weapons had disappeared into the vast seascape. You scan the surface, if you didn’t find somewhere to pull up onto soon, you’d both be dead. Then you spot it, a small alcove carved out of what you guessed was once a mountain peak.

With some help from the force you’re able to make it to the opening. A large wave hits and you push the Mandalorian up onto the ledge submerging yourself as you do. You break the water's surface again grasping desperately at the edge of the cave entrance. Another wave hits pushing you into the mountain face enabling you to latch your elbows on the edge using the last of your energy to push yourself up. Laying on your back you cough the last of the salt water out of your lungs.

“You alive under there Mando?” you ask, hitting his chest plate with the back of your hand. With no response you roll yourself over onto your stomach and push yourself up, if you were going to make it out of this alive you needed to move away from the water and get warm. Hooking your arms back under him you drag his limp body into the protection of the cavern. It was damp, but it would keep you away from the waves which was as good as you could hope for at the moment. You rest him against a wall, gently shaking him in hopes that it would wake him up.

You’re tempted to take the helmet off when he remains silent but remembering his creed you instead place two fingers up to his neck. After a brief moment of panic you manage to find a weak pulse. Then you hear him sputter causing water to run out and down his helmet. You let out a sigh of relief, but the moment passes quickly when you see that his entire body is shaking. Looking around you spot some driftwood that must have found its way in during another ocean surprise. Gathering some of it into a pile you remove the bag which was miraculously still attached to you. You rummage around it pulling out a flint rock you had packed. Striking it, you spark the kindling and you blow on the ember until it becomes a substantial flame.

Pleased with your work you turn back to the Mandalorian who was still unresponsive and now shaking even more fiercely. With the threat of hypothermia becoming an increasing concern and unable to wake him up you make a decision. You remove the heavy armour covering his body, starting with legs and working your way up, stopping at the neck and looking into the t-visor tilting your head. It was hard to imagine a living creature being under there, you opt to leave it where it is. You’re pretty sure he’d rather die than take it off. You peel off his outer layers. The cape, boots, socks, and pants were easy enough but getting the shirt over the helmet proved to be embarrassingly hard. With a little extra finesse you manage to wrangle it off him, glad he wasn’t awake to witness your struggle. You gather the clothes and lay them out neatly around the fire. If he ever woke up you hoped he’d forgive any indescration in terms of you breaking his creed in order to save his life. As you're laying out the last of his clothes the heat of the fire radiates off your skin causing you to realize how cold you were. You remove your own outer layers placing them near the fire before curling up next to it and dozing off.

Shortly thereafter, another vivid nightmare jolts you awake looking over to the fire you see it was beginning to snuff itself out. You move over to it gently blowing on the embers rekindling it into an open flame. It had helped the cave to become slightly warmer, but the overall dampness wasn’t helping the situation. You pick up more of the driftwood and light another fire hoping it would create enough heat to raise the temperature of the cave. As it takes form the emitted light flickers against the cave walls revealing its topography. You look to the Mandalorian whose slumped in the corner, the cave wasn't the only thing being illuminated by the fire. You hadn’t noticed in the chaos earlier but between the light of the fire and the shivering it was hard to ignore how well sculpted the bounty hunters body was. You guess all those years of carrying around armour as heavy as a Hutt had it perks. You indulge in his form for a brief second before reminding yourself of the dire situation at hand. The waves were still crashing outside, you prayed this biome would pass. You use the back of your hand to feel his neck, he was still cold.

You walk over to the clothes hoping something would be dry enough to wrap him up with. Most of them were still soaked, but whatever his cape was made out of must be fast drying. You thank the makers as you pick it up pressing it closely to your chest, it was warm you thought about keeping it for a few hours to warm yourself up, but you knew that was selfish. You make your way over to him and bend down so your face is level with him. You lean him forward resting his chest on your shoulder as you wrap the cloak behind him, evening it out before softly leaning him back against the wall. You’re just about finished securing the blanket around him when a hand grabs your wrist, startling you slightly.

“You’re cold” the modulator says quietly.

“I’m fine.” You say, but the shivers coursing through your body give you away.

“Take the cape” he says, still not moving, you don’t think he can yet, all those muscles were still probably atrophied.

“I’m not the one whose dying of hypothermia” you say gently removing his hand and re-wrapping the blanket over him.

“Then get under,” he says. You don’t respond not knowing what to make of that proposition.

“Don’t be impractical.” He strains.

“I’m not.” You whisper, absentmindedly still fitting the cloak around him.

“You are. We’re no use to anybody if we both freeze to death in this cave. Body heat will keep us alive.” You know he’s right, so without saying another word you open the cloak back up. He’s managed to part his legs and you sit down in the space provided, cautiously leaning back. You're surprised when he envelops the two of you in the cloak pulling you into him. When your skin touches his, there’s an instant heat, you don’t know whose more thankful for it. Eventually you lean your head back so it rests on his chest. You swear you can hear a faint snore coming from under the helmet and before you know it you're falling asleep to the sound of his heart beating.

You feel something warm across hit your face and you open your eyes to a beam of sun, causing you to squint. As they adjust to the lights of day, you stare out of the caves opening revealing tree tops and a vibrant display of birds flying between them. You guess the planet had reverted back to its original state. As your mind wakes up you take note of the ache of your entire body reminding you of the events from the day before. You go to stand so you can properly assess your current situation, but something pulls you back in. You look down, seeing a very tanned, very muscular forearm still tightly wrapped around your waist. You had completely forgotten that you had fallen asleep curled up with the half-naked Mandalorian last night.

Quietly, so as not to wake him, you remove yourself from his grasp, resealing the cloak around him as you do. He was worse off than you so he’d likely need more time to recover. You move towards the clothes laying on the floor near the smoked out pile of twigs. Pulling your over clothes back on you head down the cliffside in search of some supplies. The planet becoming an ocean at night meant the likelihood of any terrestrial species was low, but the lack of water damage on the imperial base suggested some parts may remain dry. That meant a possibility of finding food, but also the possibility of becoming something's meal. Either way you’d be foolish to wander back out into the unknown without a weapon.

Snapping a few branches off a nearby sapling you continue on in search of water ensuring the cave was never out of your sights. Snapping open a few vines you drink the water straight from it before filling up a water sachel to bring back to the Mandalorian. You make your way back up the cliff face, sitting down by the extinguished fires. Opening up the small bag you had packed you pull out a spool of dried sinew which you tie it to either end of the flexible branch standing up and stretching it to make sure it's functional before sitting back down and starting in on the arrows. After making half a dozen you stand up planning on heading back down in search of food.

“Leaving again” a familiar voice asks causing you to turn around

“How long have you been up?” you ask

“Woke up after you left.” He says, still propped up against the wall.

“I’m not going to re-dress you if that's what you’re waiting for” you say, lifting the bow over your head and down across your body. He gets up keeping the cloak tightly wrapped around him as he makes his way over to the clothes on the floor. You advert your eyes, not wanting to invade his privacy any more than you already had.

“Where do you think you’re going anyways?” He asks, reaching down for his pants and pulling them on.

“To get food, starving after dragging your heavy ass back here last night.”

“And you think you’re going to kill something with that” he asks, nodding to the bow you had made.

“only option, weapons were lost.” You retort. He gestures to his flamethrowers. “ We can’t eat something that's been incinerated. Stay here I’ll be back soon.”

“No we stay together.”

“Listen Mandalorian I…”

“Din.”

“What?”

“That’s my name, anyone who saved my life should know my name.” he says, putting on the last of his armour before bypassing you towards the drop off.

“Need a ride down?” he offers pointing to his jet pack.

“I prefer the old fashion way thanks.” You respond. He lands on the floor watching as you descend down the steep cliff top with ease.

“I have water if you need any, I promise I wont look” you say, offering him the satchel. He takes it allowing you to walk ahead of him so he can drink from it. After a few hours of silence he speaks up

“Thank you.”

“For what.”

“Saving me. You could have let me drown.”

“Thought about it” you say honestly, as you crouch down. “ Slinker tracks should make for an easy meal. Also means some of this planet must stay dry at night, let’s hope we parked the ship there.” You walk a few feet pushing back two large leaves revealing a grassy steppe where a herd of Slinkers were grazing.

“Give me the weapon, I’ll shoot it down.” He says.

“No you don’t know how to use it” you say. “Can’t have an innocent creature in pain because someone thinks he can use an old world weapon.”

“If I can use a blaster cannon I think I can handle a few twigs.” He says snatching it from you and aiming it at the small herd. You cross your arms and lean against a tree. Without the balancing technology outfitted in most bows his shot veres way off. To you this is the funniest thing in the galaxy and you burst into laughter causing the herd to scatter.

“Oh my makers.” You say not even attempting to hide your amusement.

“Are you laughing at me?” He asks, turning to face you.

“No never” you say, openly laughing.

“You are.” He says, you can’t tell if he’s annoyed, amused, embarrassed or a combination of the three.

“I'm sorry it's funny, the deadliest guy in the galaxy can’t hit a target unless he’s got his fancy technology. Now give it back.” You say opening your hands. As he hands over the weapon he notices the scarring on your palms left over from the day he’d first seen you fight.

“What are you going to eat now your obnoxious laugh has scared them off?” You draw the bow and shoot up into the trees. “Guess i'm not the only one who can't use it.” he mocks, but his smugness doesn't last long. After a few seconds a lantern bird drops down between the two of you.

“Like I said before, I never miss.” you kneel down over the creature placing your hand on it in a similar fashion to what he saw you do in the gladiator fights.

“What is that?” he asks curiously.

“You have your religion and I have mine.” You say.

“Do we have time to eat?” he asks

“Well if the planet turns into an ocean before we find the ship, I'll need my energy, you weigh more than a wookie in that armour” you pluck the animal bare, and kindle a small fire searing the meat. “You want some? I'll look away. You should probably eat. I seriously think you almost died last night.” He takes half the animal from you and the two of you eat back to back.

“We should get going.” You say standing up and putting out the fire.

“Any idea where we're going.”

“You know what Din, I think we’re close.” You say. Despite the Mandalorians' doubt you do manage to get the two of you back to the ship before nightfall. Approaching it you see Anya face deep in a large beast she must have taken down.

“Good little creature” you say bending over to pet her “thought we’d never find our way back to you.” Pulling out the piece of blanket from the kids carrier you offer it to the vulptice hoping the scent wasn’t washed away. You recreate the galaxy’s map, and Anya traces the scent to a different planet. You look to Din expectantly

“Nar Shaddaa, also known as Smuggler’s Moon” he says.

“You been?”

“Once or twice, big city planet, essentially a criminal underworld, lots of metal, you’ll hate it” he offers.

“You don’t know that” you say, packing up the rest of Anya’s kill before handing it up to the Mandalorian. You're about to lift yourself up when you see Din crouched down and his hand extended out to you.

“Come on,” he says. You take his hand and he pulls you up.

#the mandalorian #the mandolarian #mando x y/n #mando x you #mando x reader #din djarin x you #din dijarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #star wars #alliance #chapter 4

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lyssismagical · 4 years

Text

nothing can keep me from loving you

Day 1: “2029, that’s not a real year” / time travel / future au

Mostly just soft fluff

Waking up to Peter will never get old. He’ll never take it for granted to have Peter in his arms, no matter how many years pass. It’s his favourite thing to wake up, Peter against his chest, curls tickling his chin, warm breaths puffing out against his stomach, cold feet pressed against his calf.

He loves his wonderful fiancé more than he ever thought possible, even if he has to put up with Peter drooling on his chest and stealing his blankets. He’s okay with all of it as long as he gets to wake up with Peter every morning.

One of their phones are ringing on Harley’s nightstand and Peter stirs against his chest, so he answers it as quickly as possible, softly shushing Peter.

“Hi, honey, sorry for the early call, but I was wondering if you were still coming by next weekend?”

“May?” Harley says, voice rough and quiet, not wanting to wake up his fiancé.

He can practically hear May’s smile in her voice. “Harley! Sorry if I woke you, sweetie. How are you?”

“I’m really good, thanks. We’ve got a day off together for the first time in months so we’re probably just spending the day in. And we’re heading out for Queens on Friday afternoon, after Peter’s classes.”

“Good. Tony and Pepper are flying in on Saturday, so Morgan will be here with me when you get here.”

Harley smiles, pressing a kiss to the crown of Peter’s head when he snuffles, one hand curling around Harley’s bicep. “Tell her we miss her a lot, will you? It’s been a while since we’ve made the trip up and I feel a little guilty. She’s doing well, right?”

“She’s doing great, Harley. Don’t worry so much,” May says with a huff of laughter. “For a high schooler, she’s surprisingly happy and well-mannered.”

Peter murmurs something under his breath, shifting again, one foot sliding up to press against the back of Harley’s knee making him shiver at his cold toes. Harley smooths a hand down Peter’s back, trying to soothe him back to sleep.

“How’s it been babysitting a teenager?”

Laughing softly, May’s voice goes nostalgic. “Reminds me of when I was raising a teenager. At least this one doesn’t crawl on ceilings or fight crime.”

Harley barely manages to stifle his laughter fast enough to not startle Peter. “Yeah, I suppose your bar’s pretty low.”

May laughs again. “Yeah, the bar’s all the way on the ground, it’s so low. But don’t think I haven’t talked to your mother about the kind of things you did as a teenager, though… Anyways, I need to get Morgan to school, so I’ll let you go back to your lazy morning plans. It was nice to hear from you.”

“Yeah, you too. I’ll make sure Peter calls you later, yeah? He’ll probably be up soon.” Just as he says that, Peter’s lips smack and his hand tightens around Harley’s bicep, eyes starting to flutter open. “I think he’s waking up if you want to talk to him.”

“No, it’s okay. Just let him know I called? And that I love him?”

Harley smiles softly, rubbing his hand down Peter’s back again. “You got it, May. We’ll see you next week.”

“Bye, Harley. Love you, honey.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

He hangs up the phone and puts it back on the nightstand beside his before turning his attention on his fiancé who’s doe-eyes are blinking up at him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Harley says, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “May called confirming next week. She says she loves and misses you.”

“Mm,” Peter replies intelligently, freezing toes finding more warm skin at Harley’s ankles.

Harley grins, grabbing Peter’s hand and lifting it to his mouth to kiss the engagement ring that sits around his finger. If he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to waking up next to Peter, he’ll really never get used to knowing Peter’s his fiancé. It’s such a huge difference to the nervous fumbling and hidden relationship from when they were sophomores.

When they first met, the summer after freshman year, when Harley had just moved in with Tony, they weren’t ready to put labels on the kisses they shared when nobody was looking or the late nights they spent in the other’s room, curled close together and hoping FRIDAY wouldn’t tattle.

Harley had grown up in Rose Hill, a blatantly homophobic part of the south, and Peter had grown up being bullied for everything he did, including being bisexual.

They’d learned how to keep their heads down, which battles were worth fighting, how to be the person everybody wanted them to be.

But then in sophomore year, together but without labels and keeping everything a secret, they realized that suddenly they weren’t fighting on their own. They had each other’s back and that made everything different, that made it worth it.

Now, they’re out and proud, and Harley never thinks twice before kissing his boyfriend in public.

Being able to call Peter his fiancé is a dream come true when there was a time he wasn’t even allowed to call him a friend.

“You’re thinkin’ too much,” Peter mumbles, eyes slipping shut again.

“I’m only thinking about how much I love you.” It’s cheesy but the smile on Peter’s face makes every cheesy line worth it. “It’s been almost seven years since we got together.”

Peter smiles sleepily, kissing Harley’s sternum. “Ten years is 2029.”

“2029? That’s not a real year.”

His fiancé lets out a laugh at that, settling just a little bit closer to Harley. “Mm, love you.”

Harley grins, tightening his arm around Peter’s waist. “Love you too, darlin’.”

* They only make it out of bed near noon, letting Peter drift back to sleep a few times, and spending some time murmuring words of affection.

Peter slips on one of Harley’s old hoodies, Rose Hill High printed across the front and Keener on the back, and a pair of sweatpants that have been traded back and forth so many times Harley can’t remember who it first belonged to. He looks so comfy and sweet, hair fluffy and eyes bright, well rested for the first time in a long time.

The apartment’s a bit of a mess.

It’s almost always a mess, despite Peter’s cleanliness. Peter hates it being messy but when they’re only really in the house to sleep most days, in their last year of university, balancing jobs and extra-curriculars, and Spider-Man, they don’t really have the time for cleaning.

But instead of going straight to cleaning, Peter kisses Harley sweetly, corners of his eyes crinkling with how big his smile gets, and sits down at the dining room table.

Their table’s covered in magazines, booklets, and a thick scrapbook. Wedding planning.

“I know we’ve still got five months, but we’ve barely made any progress,” he explains, flipping open their scrapbook.

Harley slips his arms around the back of Peter’s chair, leaning over his shoulder to look at their choices of flowers. “This is our first day off and you want to spend it wedding planning?”

His fiancé pouts, kissing Harley’s bicep where it rests on the hero’s shoulder. “If we don’t do it now, it’s never going to happen.”

And if there’s anything Harley hates in this world, it’s upsetting Peter, even if the pout is mostly a joke. So he kisses Peter’s head, and then makes his way to the kitchen.

He makes coffee for both of them, smiling fondly at his Spider-Man mug and Peter’s World’s Best Brother mug from Morgan. He makes sure to put extra sugar in Peter’s before he takes it back to his fiancé.

“I love you,” Peter says as soon as he’s got the warm mug in his hands. His engagement ring clinks against the side of the mug which makes Harley grin at the little reminder.

Harley lets out a breath, looking over their mess of magazines. But he’s beyond excited to be marrying Peter, no matter how hard wedding planning gets, no matter how much they argue about where everyone will sit or which flowers to use, nothing will make his excitement falter.

“I love you too.”

A soft blush creeps up from Peter’s neck like it does every time Harley says those three words, like every time is a surprise. “I still think Morgan and Abbie should be beside each other.”

Harley rolls his eyes, like he does every single time Peter tries to argue the seating arrangement. “Abbie’s three years older and doesn’t know her that well. We should give her a plus one and put her by Mom.”

Somehow, Peter smiles, reaching under the table to link their pinkies together, rings clinking. “I really love you.”

“My heart will seriously explode if you say that one more time.”

Smile widening, Peter points at the picture of a bouquet of pink lilies and white daisies, amid their three other potential choices. “I think we should do these. A bit more expensive, but fits the theme nicer.”

“Okay,” Harley says because he’d say yes to anything Peter wants.

“I think we did some good work, time for a break?”

Harley rolls his eyes in amusement, purposefully clinking their rings together again under the table. Their apartment, their wedding, their future. He can barely handle how much love grows in his chest, warm and fuzzy and strong. He can’t believe this is all real. He still feels like the lovesick teenager who pushed down all his feelings and quietly crushed from a distance, not believing it was possible. And yet, here they are.

“What do you want to do with our day off?”

Peter opens his mouth to answer, but one of their phones ring from their bedroom. He sighs, offering a wary smile like he knew something like this would happen, an interruption to their peaceful day. They don’t even know what the text is and somehow Peter assumes it’ll hurt their day.

He slips his hand out from Harley’s and disappears back into their bedroom.

Harley starts on finding something for breakfast, even though it’s past noon, and he tries not to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“-off. I thought-” Peter sounds aggravated, and his footfalls sounds like he’s pacing. “Don’t- It’s not like that.”

Harley pauses his pancake making, turning his attention towards the phone call with the distress in his fiancé’s voice. He already knows who it is.

Peter got a job at a tech corporation in Boston while finishing his last year at MIT, and it pays really well, it’s the only way they’ll be able to afford their wedding and honeymoon on top of the bills and rent and expenses. But his boss is awful.

No matter how many times Harley tries to convince him to quit and get his old minimum wage job that he enjoyed back, Peter insists that he’d prefer to be treated poorly for another six months if it means being able to have their dream wedding.

“I’m sorry,” Peter murmurs, sounding miserable. “I can’t- I’ve been working unpaid overtime for weeks, Sir. And you’re threatening to fire me because I can’t come in on a random Saturday?”

Harley walks into their room, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist from behind. From so close he can hear Peter’s boss’s voice lifting angrily.

“-matter! I’m your boss and I’m already doing plenty by letting you work here despite your ties to people like Stark.”

“I know, I’m sorry, sir. I just- I wanted to spend the day with my fiancé. I’ve been working nonstop for you and I was told I’d get today off.”

Anger sparks in Harley’s chest, protectively tightening his grip around Peter’s waist like it would be enough, when Peter’s voice trembles like he might cry, apologizing for wanting a day to relax.

“Your fiancé?” his boss repeats, letting out a cold, humorless laugh. “You mean-”

“Please don’t go there. Not today,” Peter pleads. He leans his head back on Harley’s shoulder, eyes closing in exasperation.

Harley presses a kiss to his temple, trying to provide any comfort he can.

“I need you in for work today, Parker. Plain and simple.”

Peter’s face falls, knowing he can’t get out of this, he can’t lose the job, can’t say no, can’t beg for at least one day. Instead he falls quiet, pliant. “Yes, sir. I can be there in an hour.”

He says his goodbyes and turns to Harley, slipping his phone into his pocket, eyes wet and lips pouting.

“I’m sorry.”

It reminds Harley plainly of the fights they used to have, the days when they first moved out to Boston together, first had jobs and university and homework and what felt like the world balanced on their shoulders, the days when their relationship was pushed to the backburner and there wasn’t enough care for the days they’d go endlessly without talking to each other.

The fights they used to have where Peter would cry and Harley would shout, equally upset about the nights going to bed alone or unanswered texts or dates stood up. The fights where one of them would leave, find a place to stay for the night instead of home, before they’d makeup in anyway they knew how to, making promises of easier days and solutions.

These were supposed to be the easier days, but it’s not always as simple. Peter has a boss that hates him, who demands him to come into work whenever he pleases, who dismisses their relationship as pretend, as wrong, who calls Peter out and humiliates him in front of coworkers just because he can. But Peter’s always been strong. Always has been resilient to whatever the world throws at him.

“Don’t apologize, honey,” Harley murmurs reassuringly, despite the ache that makes it’s way into his chest, cutting a hole in the warmth that had settled throughout the morning. “I know it’s not your fault. I’m sorry that your boss is the way he is.”

Peter’s bottom lip trembles, shifting on his feet. “I just really wanted to spend the day with you.”

In high school, Harley would’ve immediately jumped at whoever made his boyfriend cry, he got suspended more times than he can count from getting into fights over Peter, but he’s learned that he can’t fight everybody. He can’t keep Peter safe from everything. The most he can do is be here for him.

“We took all of next weekend off, darlin’. And you’ll be home for dinner. It’s not all wasted,” he offers, stepping back into Peter’s space and gently slinging his arms around his hips. “And I’ll say it again, you can quit that job, get another. I don’t mind picking up a few shifts if you want to take a break.”

He shakes his head, like he always does whenever it’s offered. “It’s just another six months until we’ll be moving back to New York and taking over Stark Industries. I can survive another six months.”

“If you’re sure.” Harley kisses his forehead, wishing with everything he has that one day Peter will be able to thrive without things like rude bosses or people glaring or having to apologize for being who he is. “You should get changed and go. No point making him any angrier than he already is.”

“I love you,” Peter says again like he has to make sure Harley knows.

“I love you too, honey. Let me know when you’ll be home and I’ll have dinner ready for you.”

Peter smiles softly, blinking away the film over his eyes, and kissing Harley once more before he steps out of Harley’s arms and prepares himself to leave the house.

* Harley’s nearly asleep when he hears the front door open.

It’s late, he knew it would be when the only time he heard from Peter was a text near four in the afternoon which only contained a sad face.

“Babe?” he calls out, voice hoarse. He blinks blearily, pushing himself up on the couch, and frowning when his stomach rumbles. He wanted to wait to eat until Peter was home.

Peter falls onto the couch with him, immediately hiding his face in the crook of Harley’s neck with a distressed sigh.

“You ‘kay?”

“No,” Peter says, tone joking but obviously not lying. His nose presses against Harley’s pulse point. “My boss sucks, work sucks, Boston sucks.”

Harley wraps an arm around Peter’s waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I know, honey. I’m sorry. I know it sucks but six months, remember?”

The hero finally relaxes against Harley, smiling softly against his neck. His eyes sweep over the apartment and his mouth falls open, eyes glassy. “You cleaned?”

“I had the day to myself,” Harley says as an explanation. “Figured I should.”

“Thank you.” The poor boy sounds close to tears like it’s impossible to believe Harley would’ve done this for him.

Harley smiles softly and presses his lips to his boyfriend’s temple, mouth moving against his skin when he says, “Yeah, anything for you.”

Six months.

Harley can see it. The bright, glossy future they’ve imagined together.

He can see the two of them, wedding bands, instead of their engagement ones, touching when they lace their fingers together. He can see them in a New York apartment, in Manhattan probably, all huge windows overlooking the city and a balcony with their plants, close enough that they can have dinner with the Starks and May and Happy every Sunday night, chaperoning on Morgan’s field trips to embarrass her, quiet nights together without the worries of bosses or school or responsibilities beyond each other.

He can see their future, exactly how they’ve always dreamed it would be. Running Stark Industries, maybe adopting children in the future, probably a dog, living in New York again, married and happy. And most importantly together.

“I love you.” He knows it’s cheesy and silly just how many times they say it to each other, how much they bask in the words every time they’re uttered, how much they love each other in actions just as much as words. He knows but they both know, all too well, what it feels like to be alone, how much those three words cement the truth in their relationship.

“I love you too.”

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @justme--emily @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

#lyss writes #parkner week 2020 #parkner #peter parker #harley keener #may parker #this is late oopsies but hopefully i can catch up and it'll be okay #(I say despite taking like triple the amount of time to do the month challenges)#Also this is totally unedited like I didn't even reread it oops #so please just ignore the stupid mistakes lmao #i've been writing a lot of Fiance Parkner lately but I'm kinda okay with it

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lia-jones · 3 years

Text

Growing Together - Chapter Three - Rising Star

Victor barely slept that night, concerned about his wife.

Andrea barely ate anything at dinner and began to look lethargic and sore, the rabies shot affecting her even more than the monkey bite itself, probably bringing a fever with it. When she said she wanted to take a shower and go to bed, he took matters into his own hands and helped her shower, afraid she would collapse should she do it on her own. After he settled her in bed, it took mere seconds for her to fall asleep, warm and cozy against him, while he entertained himself with a book. He watched over her, holding a quiet vigil in her slumber, making sure she was warm, comfortable, and healthy.

Once again, Andrea’s stirring woke Victor up. The sun was starting to rise in the Balinese sky, the only thing audible was the ebb and flow of the waves in the distance, the local birds still slumbering in their nests. He wondered if she was starting to get a fever, her cheeks looking more flushed than usual. He gently pressed his lips against her forehead, deeming the temperature acceptable. He wondered if her injury was causing discomfort, unable to t tell if her shoulder was swollen under the bandage. With a very light hand, he touched her on that spot, trying to determine if there was swelling or something that could indicate an infection. Everything seemed normal. She was safe and sound in his arms. Satisfied, Victor leaned his face against her hair and closed his eyes to sleep.

However, he found himself unable to fully relax.

Another thought stirred inside Victor’s somnolent mind. Taking care of Andrea physically was not his only job as a husband, he had to make sure she was happy as well. His biggest challenge, however, was that he had no idea of what made a good husband, or a good father, for that matter. He remembered witnessing his parents happy and in love at a very young age, and after that they had drifted apart, both using their careers as an excuse.

Victor could only guess what being a good husband meant, because he truly had no tangible idea. Still, he would try his best. Andrea gave him so much. She certainly deserved his best.

Victor grimaced as he remembered the way he scolded her earlier; he had reminded himself of his own father: insensitive, imperious, cruel even. Even if it was based on concern and good intentions, his wife did not deserve to be spoken to that way. He made a decision there and then: his main goal for the next day would be to make Andrea smile and allow her to shine her brightest.

Victor tried his best to keep true to his promise, tending to her every need, watching her mood carefully, and acting accordingly. The resort doctor came again to check her wound, which had improved greatly overnight, and told them she could remove the bandage. As a reward of sorts, Victor and Andrea took a dive in the swimming pool, ate, and slept, returning to their previous honeymoon bliss. Still, Andrea seemed sad for some reason, her natural light dimmer than usual. It was when she caught her, later that day, staring at her purse, lost in thought, that he understood why. She was worried about all the text messages Olive had left her.

It was only natural that she would worry, not knowing what was happening back home could only make her picture all sorts of scenarios, probably even worse than the one that was actually happening. On the other hand, Victor knew that the moment she found out there was something wrong with her study, she would lose her for the rest of the honeymoon. She wouldn’t trust other people much with her work and would want to supervise every single inch of progress, forgetting all about the honeymoon. Whatever was happening back in Loveland, Olive and the research team would have to fend for themselves. In the meantime, Victor would have to take his wife’s mind off the subject.

After dinner, Victor took her outside to enjoy the warm night on the patio. They laid down on the big bed by the pool, watching the stars.

“Does your shoulder hurt?” He eyed her carefully, as she tried to make herself more comfortable on the mattress.

“No, not anymore.” She tossed a bit more. “Just trying to find the perfect position.”

Victor smirked to himself. She could be such a dummy sometimes.

“Luckily for you, I know exactly what my wife needs.” He tugged her arm, pulling her closer. “Come use your special pillow.”

She smiled and snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest.

“You were right, this is much better.” She moved closer, as Victor’s arm came behind her, drawing lazy circles on her skin.

They laid still for a moment, enjoying the quiet of the night, until Andrea broke the silence.

“Do you know anything about constellations?”

“Can’t say that I do, why?” He looked at her, curious.

“You and I, laying like this, looking at the stars…” She trailed off. “It’s like in the movies.”

Victor couldn’t hide his smile. Even his wife, who was always so practical and down to earth, enjoyed some romance from time to time. He would obviously oblige. That’s what a good husband would do.

“Anyone could tell you about the most commonly known constellations, such as the Big Dipper or Orion’s Belt.” He playfully quipped. “But only I can tell you about the Mystery Constellations, which only a handful of men on this planet know about.”

“Is that so?” Andrea smiled, playing along. “Mystery Constellations, you say?”

“Now that you are my wife, I feel more at ease sharing this incredibly sensitive information with you, provided you promise me you won’t tell another soul. Do I have your word?” He ceremoniously asked, making his wife giggle.

“You have my word.” She answered, amused.

“Perfect.” He nodded, pointing to the sky. “Do you see those four stars, forming an imperfect trapezoid?”

“Those over there?” She looked at the spot in the sky where he was pointing. “Yes, I guess.”

“That’s the constellation of Pudding.” The statement made Andrea laugh hard, and Victor almost lost his composure as well. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious.” He scolded, trying hard to suppress his laughter.

“There’s a constellation called Pudding?” Andy laughed again.

“I don’t know why you doubt me, it’s right there.” He answered in all seriousness, making Andrea laugh again. “The legend says that, once upon a time, there was a prince that wanted to conquer this incredibly short and difficult princess’s heart.” He stifled a laugh, seeing she didn’t like the remark on her height. “However, the only thing he knew how to make was pudding, and this particular damsel did not like pudding, so the prince was in quite a predicament. He prayed to the gods to provide him with the finest ingredients, so he could prepare the perfect pudding, the one that would make her fall in love. The gods, moved with the very noble and handsome prince’s devotion, granted him his wish. He made the perfect pudding, a dessert so glorious it was known to drive mortals insane if they had too much of it, and also likely to cause a tummy ache.”

At this point, Andrea was lost in laughter.

“Do you want me to tell you the story or not? Your mockery is aggravating.” He teased her, just to see if he could make her laugh even more.

“Go on, noble and handsome prince.” She teased him back.

“I shall.” Victor continued. “Resuming, the prince had obtained the perfect gift to bestow to his loved one, but the gods had become jealous. Who was this mortal to become worthy of something so divine, that was clearly destined for the gods and the gods alone? They took the pudding away from the prince, and to reward him for his efforts, they made a constellation in the sky shaped like a pudding, to honor such a gastronomic masterpiece.”

“Wow, stargazing and storytelling. I’m impressed.” Andrea complimented, making Victor smirk internally. “But what about the prince? Did he get the girl?”

“It turns out the prince never needed pudding in the first place. May I remind you, he was very desirable.” Victor got another laugh from his wife.

“I’m inclined to agree with that.” Andrea smiled suggestively. “Thank you for showing me such a mysterious constellation.”

“I’m not done yet.” Victor was actually having fun acting silly. It was truly enjoyable to hear his wife laugh like that. Almost as much as making her scream his name. “Do you see those three stars in a row? That constellation is named King of Highhorseland.” Andrea laughed even harder than before. “Legend says…”

“Quit being petty!” She playfully scolded him, poking him in the ribs.

“Let me finish!” He poked her back.

“Nope. Another one.” She insisted, making Victor chuckle, amused that he was able to provoke her.

“Alright, fair enough.” He relaxed on the mattress, focused on the starry sky again. “Can you see that star over there, the brightest of them all?”

“You mean the plane?” She asked with a flat voice.

“I mean the star.” Victor corrected, although part of him was wondering if she was right.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a plane, Victor.”

“Excuse me, who is the knowledgeable astronomer here?” He playfully frowned at her. “This very special star is called Andrea. She’s bright, magical, and beautiful, and she brightens up my dark sky.” He came closer to her, their breaths mingling, their lips almost touching.

“That’s incredibly sweet.” She whispered. “Although you just named a plane after me.”

“Shut up.” Victor claimed her mouth for a kiss, slightly biting on her bottom lip, and all the foolery was promptly forgotten. There were other ways to make his wife forget all about her predicament, and the one Victor had in mind would prove to be even more pleasurable.

He tasted every inch of her skin, drawing from her lips all the pleasurable sounds she had in her, and only when she screamed his name in euphoria, when he bathed her and washed and soothed her spent body, did he let her collapse in his arms blissfully, her skin glowing as it always would when she was feeling happy.

As he watched her sleep, her body pressed against his, his chest swelled with the pride of a job well done. He had taken good care of her. He was a good husband.

He woke up before her, as usual. The bellhop delivered breakfast soon after, and came bearing a message: Goldman had called, and said a certain Mrs. Olive Carson was repeatedly calling LFG to find a way to reach Andrea.

Victor looked at his wife still sleeping peacefully. Why was the Dean being so insistent? Andrea was on her honeymoon, whatever reason she may have to inconvenience them, it better be a good one. Decided to take matters into his own hands, Victor took his phone and dialed Olive’s number, ready to severely reprehend her for being so inappropriate.

The conversation took an unexpected turn, and Victor found himself thanking her excitedly, telling her Andrea would call soon. He took a deep breath before he went to wake up his wife. He was so excited he could barely contain it, and he would probably scare Andrea.

He caressed her curls, watching her eyelids flutter to consciousness.

“Come on, sleepyhead. You have pressing matters to attend.” He tried to whisper, although he was so happy he found himself unable to be as gentle as he hoped.

“Breakfast? That can wait a few more minutes.” She rolled to the other side, her back facing him.

Victor was growing impatient. She needed to know the good news from the source, he didn’t want to be the one to tell her. But for that, she would need to stop her shenanigans.

“No time for snoozing, Andrea.” He then remembered something that would make her bolt from bed. “You need to call Olive. Something happened.”

As expected, Andrea jumped from the covers abruptly. Victor handed her the phone with a smile. Not that she noticed.

“Oh my God, what do you think happened?” She took the phone from his hand, a worried look on her face. She pressed the dial and waited for the recipient to pick up. Victor sat beside her, heart jumping in exhilaration.

He watched his wife grimace at the first words of the conversation, only for her expression to become one of disbelief. In each change in her, Victor’s smile went wider. When she hung up, she was frozen in shock, her eyes tearing up slightly.

“I won a GESA award.” She spoke slowly, not really believing it herself. “For Most Promising Mind in Economics. My study isn’t even completely over yet, but they loved it.” She suddenly jumped to Victor’s arms. “I won a GESA! Do you understand what this means?”

Victor wasted no time, now that his happiness could have an outlet. He took his wife and spun her around, both laughing with happiness. He then stopped, still holding her in the air, to kiss her as passionately as he felt. When they broke the kiss, they both looked at each other, their eyes shiny with happiness.

“It means you are brilliant, like I always knew you were.” His voice was tight with emotion, words failing to describe how blessed he felt. “It was only a matter of time for the world to see it too.”

“I didn’t do this alone, Victor.” Happy tears fell as she lovingly combed his hair back with her fingers. “You were my greatest support in all of this. You believed in me, even when I didn’t. You encouraged me and you watched over me. I can’t thank you enough, really.” She took his face in his hands and kissed his lips fervently. “I love you so much. Thank you for being in my life.”

“Thank you for being in mine.” He put her down, so his hands would be free to wipe away her tears. “I love you too, my light. And I am so very proud of you.” He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin. “Now, go get breakfast so we can go out and celebrate. We’ll go anywhere you want, as long as there are no animals involved.”

Andrea’s smile was so beautiful he couldn’t resist but to pick her up in his arms again, carrying her to the table. Victor couldn’t imagine a time in his life when he had felt so lighthearted, and they were only getting started, he still had a lifetime of happiness by her side. Whatever she thought he did, he would do it again and much more, just to see that smile on her face, casting a warm powerful light in his life and everything around her. Because she was the brightest star in his life. More than that, she was a rising star.

#Growing Pains - Series #growingtogether #victor x oc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mister love queens choice #mister love dream date #love and producer

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writingfromkitchenator · 5 years

Text

Thorin ~ Marriage

700 Followers Challenge!

Requested by Anon

Words: 1,181

Warnings: Embarrassment, post wedding

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please!”

Dwalin's voice boomed out over the crowd of people, all quickly going quiet as eyes turned to him at the head table, Thorin already groaning beside him.

Dwalin smirks at him from the corner of his eye. “I'm sure, like me, that a lot of you never thought this day would come, that these two painful individuals next to me, would never realise exactly what they meant to each other.”

There was a lot of laughter at this, including a giggle from you as you nudge Thorin to pay attention.

“We got here though!” Dwalin said through a chuckle. “And for that, I couldn't be happier for them. So before I begin rambling on, a toast to the happy couple!”

There is a cheer and everyone drinks, you and Thorin sharing a brief kiss.

“I'm sure you've all been wondering what I was going to say today,” Dwalin cut over the noise that had picked up again, quickly quietening it. “And I know more than a few of you have had your fair share of suggestions.”

Dis, Fili and Kili all beam at Dwalin.

“However I think only one story really fits this situation, and I had the unfortunate circumstance of witnessing this and I hope that none of you ever have to go through this with anyone.”

Thorin groans, sinking low in his chair, and you bite your lip, trying to keep your expression neutral.

“I'm sure that there's a lot of you that knew what our King and new Queen were like, always in the middle of some argument or another, both stubborn to the end.”

“This particular day was dark and gloomy, none of were really feeling too well, we'd taken more than a few blows at this point, enough that some of us were doubting what we were doing, and here Y/N is, blaming Thorin for something going missing from her pack. At this point, there were only a few privy to the information that this had been Fili and Kili, but I digress.”

You groaned, leaning on your hand, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Thorin, much to everyone's surprise, just seem to accept the tirade that was being given to him, hardly even scowling at her. He waited until she was out of words to say before saying anything at all.”

Dwalin puts on his best Thorin impression. “Are you quiet done?” He grins as it gets a laugh and shoots a look at Thorin, who glares at him. “And Y/N, for the first time in her life, remains completely silent. There were a few of us that thought that they were just going to stare at each other until one of them backed down.”

“We can't keep going on like this,” His Thorin voice returned, many stifling giggles, including you. “You can't just accuse me of something constantly, it is not fair on me and I'm sure I can hazard a guess who to actually blame. Frankly, I think you're better of looking over to the actual culprits, unless there is a particular reason why you keep talking to me?”

Dwalin chuckles. “Y/N, unnerved in the face of battle, can cut down an orc as easily as breathing, was suddenly so red in the face we thought she'd stopped breathing.”

You sunk into Thorin’s shoulder, giggling.

He then tried to mimic you, which earned even more laughter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You are good at a lot of things Y/N, but definitely not lying.”

“Well, if you didn’t have the emotional recognition of a blind orc, I wouldn’t be so aggravated at you all the time!”

Dwalin beams, waiting for the laughter to die down, glancing over at you and Thorin, both of you having somewhat sunk under the table, faces burning, the shake in your shoulders evident of your giggling.

“Oh boy did something snap inside Thorin at that moment,” Dwalin chuckles. “I don’t think I’d even seen him get to his feet so quickly.” He had to take a moment to settle himself. “Emotional recognition! Dammit woman, why not just tell me how you feel about me?”

“Y/N stood there, mouth opening and closing, having never expected Thorin to be so abrupt. There were a few of us silently taking bets behind her on what she was about to do, although, we didn’t call it very well.” Dwalin shakes his head, looking amused. “She just suddenly seemed to gather herself and shrug, saying just one line. ‘You make me feel okay.’”

“In that moment, it was harder to tell who was more confused, Thorin, or the rest of us, all trying to work out exactly what that meant.” Dwalin moves and stands behind you and Thorin, not bothering to hide the wide grin. “I still remember Thorin’s look just wondering how crazy she was. ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ He asked and I knew exactly in that moment what our dear Y/N was about to do.”

Dwalin looks at you and ignores the slightly pleading look that you were giving him, begging not to tell pretty much everyone.

“It means I love you, you stupid idiot! What do you think it means?” Dwalin laughs, wiping his eyes. “But she didn’t just say it, she shouted it, stunning all of us, and met by silence, it catches up with her as to what she said and she storms off.”

The crowd is all laughing and you groan into Thorin, not wanting to see everyone, even though you were smiling. “Make him stop.”

Thorin finds your hand and gives it a squeeze. “If I thought I was able, I would’ve done so already.”

Dwalin waves his hand for silence. “It took Thorin such a long time to recover after that that we almost thought Y/N was going to kill him because he completely refused to talk to her, but it all obviously turned out well, Thorin did eventually, well, I wouldn’t talk, but he took the most awkward time to kiss her, but by then, we were all just relieved that the tension between the two had been broken.”

He raises his mug. “And so, with that I would like to make a toast again, to these two, annoying, painful, endearing individuals and wish them all the happiness in the world, because after all they’ve been through and they’ve put each other through, they damn well deserve it. I honestly can’t think of two more deserving individuals and I’m more than happy to have witnessed even the more awkwardly painful moments.”

“Dwalin…” Thorin grumbled.

Dwalin beams, clasping Thorin on the shoulder. “To the King and Queen of Erebor! My best friends! May they rule together in better harmony than they got together!”

With laughter and cheers, everyone holds up their mugs and drinks. With nervous, a little awkward, smiles, you and Thorin do to, only laughing once Dwalin had sculled his drink and burst out laughing, giving you both whiskery kisses on the cheek, leaving you both flushed but smiling.

#the hobbit #thorin #thorin x reader #short #drabbles #700 followers challenge

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