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dokifluffs · 3 years

Text

Switched | Suna Rintarou

Pairing: Suna X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: fox! cuteeee flufff tehe

Author’s Note: @utskushiwaarudo once said “what if READER is the baby fox and inarizaki (or only one to two of them) is being domestic and taking care of them and they’re like omg y/n careful not to spill the food *napkin wipe*” so here I am months later ah ha ha

Gif from @rivaillerose 💛

Dark storm clouds gathered all over the sky, not letting a single ray of sunlight in on what could’ve been what of the most beautiful days of the year

Suna laid on his stomach, his back slowly rising and falling, arms curled beneath the pillow his face was nuzzled into

He woke from his deep slumber when a loud boom sounded through the sky, making the ground vibrate

The blanket slid down his body, sliding off to reveal his toned bare back as he rose from the deep slumber he was immersed in

Your own mind began to pick up in activity as you felt the bed ship as Suna woke

Then it occurred to you how last night was the full moon

Today would be the day Suna would be in his little fox form, and it was honestly one of your favorite days of the month since he was especially cuddly

The way he would nuzzle into your lap as he slept all day

“Huh? How am I still-“ Suna looked at his very human hands, his brown hair disheveled from sleep until he saw you move as you woke

“Oh god…” Suna’s eyes went wide as he stared at you

Your body was as small as a newborn baby as you stretched sleepily, your bushy tail lazily wagging side to side, which he assumed you didn’t notice since you looked up to him with a fondness he normally woke up to

“Y/N… Don’t freak out..” His voice was low but you were more confused, especially how he scooped you into your arms, bringing you to the bathroom

Bright sunlight shined in through the skylight as he held you in his arms, standing the two of you in front of the mirror

You looked up to him numerous times as his eyes stayed on you through the mirror

Your pointed ears, dark brown fur that matched Suna’s hair, a bushy tail dangling over his elbow

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you panicked, swarming rapidly in his arms

You couldn’t even look at yourself in disbelief

“No, no, no, why- how?” You thought as you whined as you moved frantically in his arms, he was losing control

“Y/N, wait, you’re gonna- fall…” He winced hearing your loud cry as your body fell from his arms onto the cold tiled ground, scratches littering his bare arms and torso

A sore, aching pain waved through your body as your heart pounded rapidly in your, now little, chest

You had never been a fox before, and he still couldn’t wrap his head around as to why this happened, but you were uncoordinated with your body

Suna recalled the numerous stories and memories of his childhood when he first changed

His legs wobbled

He didn’t know what to do with his tail

He didn’t know how to do anything and all he could do was watch as his being was in a fox’s body and it was after a year

And now this was happening to you

But you were so shaken up, Suna’s heart dropped seeing the fear in your eyes

“Y/N, calm- Stop you’re going to hurt yourself,” He raised his voice higher as you whined, your feet slipping over the tiled floor as you tried to run away as if running could bring your body back to normal

“Don’t move, I got you, alright?” He knelt down, the sun shining from behind his body through the window, he seemed so ethereal through your eyes as he inched his way closer to you

You were shaking, back arched, tail curled in between your legs, claws sliding over the tiled floor as Suna spoke to you

It was so weird since you could understand him yet he couldn’t understand you

“I’m going to pick you up okay?”

You took deep breaths as your heart pounded in your chest

He carefully lifted you into his arms as a puppy, your nails just digging into his arms slightly out of fear but it wasn’t a pain he couldn’t handle

You whimpered as he brought you back to bed, sitting you carefully in his lap as he sat with his legs crossed

“You’ve been the one taking care of me for years whenever I had to change, so now it’s my turn. You’re going to be okay, alright? I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised as you looked up to him

The way you looked at him pulled at his heart

You were too adorable in this form

Your ears back, eyes wide and glistening and watering

“Don’t cry, Y/N,” he cracked a rare smile as he pat your head, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears that had formed in your eyes

“You’ll be alright,” he leaned down, mumbling to your warm, fuzzy head, a rare gesture from Suna since he had always been one to internalize his thoughts and emotions

Rarely one to be the one to show his affection first, only sometimes in private, yet he did it right now as easy as breathing

“I got you,” Suna mumbled

Your heart melted at his words as you whimpered his love

You couldn’t tell if it was now that you were in this new fox form or what but you couldn’t help but let your heart melt at Suna

He sat you on the corner of the bed where you could still see him as he brushed his teeth and washed his face, finally putting a shirt on afterward

You felt so stiff as you sat there, not wanting to move, not wanting to rip the sheets or to fall or anything

You didn’t want to do anything except switch back to normal

After getting dressed and ready for the day, Suna lifted you into his arms like a child as he stroked his hand down your back side

“Is this what it feels like?” You thought to yourself as you let out a sigh, relaxing against his arms and touch, your muscles following his touch as you melted

“it feels so... good, no wonder he falls asleep so fast when I do it,” you yawned, your tongue automatically licking your own nose after you did so, something you’ve always seen other animals, and Suna, do and now that it was your turn, it felt so strangely natural

He carried you down the stairs in his arms as the rain bounced off the glass of the skylight that illuminated the stairwell just enough for the stairs to be visible

You could sort of feel suna’s skin but all you could really feel was a thin constant layer of warmth, and warmer areas where his body was pressed to you

“I’ll make breakfast,” he said as he stood in the entrance to the kitchen, humming to himself in thought

“where can I put them...” Suna stood there for almost a whole minute as you just stayed still in his arms, not knowing what to do since you couldn’t really do anything anyways

even moving around in his grasp was nerve wracking

you did not need to fall or break anything or hurt yourself

And suna knew this too as he thought

you were more than capable of being by yourself since you could handle yourself but he also wanted to keep an eye on you while he was in the kitchen but leaving you on the floor would be dirty and cold

but leaving you on a chair would be scary if you were to fall and hurt yourself

“Y/N, I’m going to leave you on the couch and then I’ll bring it over when it’s all ready, alright?”

He turned back, headed toward the living room toward the couches

He leaned over, reaching his arms to put you down

“It’s okay, you won’t hurt yourself at this height,” he smiled as your paws wrapped around his forearms, tail curling around as well. “I got you.”

You slowly let go, trusting Suna as he set you down onto the plush cushion

“You’re gonna be alright,” he patted your head as you sat on the couch

It felt so weird

like, you had control over your legs and arms like normal but sitting and standing and walking, it all felt so strange yet natural at the same time

And this was what Suna and the other inariaki team went through once a month

Suna stood in the kitchen, thinking about what he could possibly make with his skills

but now that he actually thought about it, it was always you who really fed him aside from Osamu

All he could think of to do was the standard cereal with milk

Suna wasn’t as skilled as you to do fancy things like make eggs and pancakes and such

He carried over two bowls of cereal with milm over to the living room, setting one on the coffee table that was just tall enough to be the same level as the couch cushion you were on

He sat besides you as he ate a big of his cereal before setting his bowl down and watched you

“How am I supposed to eat this?” You pondered as you stared at the cereal before you

You licked up the milk like a cat but you wanted the actual cereal before it got too soggy

You obviously couldn’t use your spoon

you ended up sticking your.. snout.. into the bowl, the cold milk stinging your nose but you were able to eat the cereal

it was good and even your tail wagged but it wasn;t the cleanest

“careful, Y/N,” Suna laughed as he plucked a few tissues, wiping your chin as well as the spilt milk around the bowl

Suna did as he said he would and watched you for the rest of the day, taking care of you

although he did have to call osamu on how to make some things but aside from that, it was fine

it was a very new experience for the both of you

but it showed you such a new side of Suna he never really expressed before

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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dorotharry · 3 years

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tiny dancer ; chapter two

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: torture, nightmares, angst, let me know if there's anything else :)

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: honestly I have no clue where I’m going but I’m hoping you’re all still following. There’s still soooo much to go into readers past and yep, it’s gonna take a while but I hope you enjoy this. Please feel free to give feedback, like and repost it would mean a lot! :)

MY MASTERLIST

*gif not mine

1943

Your head felt groggy, as you woke up. Not enough energy from an ounce of your body to open your eyes for the time being. The more your body woke up from the darkness of slumber the more the pounding of aches and pains became less subtle and started to fill each and every muscle. You weren’t sure where you were or what had happened, but you suddenly became aware that your surroundings weren’t familiar. The air was too cool and there was an eeriness from lack of noise.

Finally, you were able to pry your eyes open. The colours swirled around you into one, until they became to create recognisable shapes. Although this wasn’t somewhere you recognised, just as your mind had thought even before getting to look around.

You were laid down on a metal ‘bed’ if you could even call it a bed. The coolness of the metal began to get to you a shiver running down your spine and you attempted to get up. Only to be restricted. It was now when you noticed you had straps holding your ankles, down, but not only this; there was a limpness to your form. In fact, you didn’t have any real connection to your muscles. As if a switch had been turned on in your head you realised, this wasn’t a bed. It was a table.

Suddenly your anxiety rose. In an ill attempt to do something you turned you head groggily to the left, only to be met with machines, and hospital devices. You took in a sharp breath. This definitely wasn’t a hospital so why the machines? Rolling your head to the right with just as much difficultly as last time you were met with darkness. The faint sound of feet shuffling in the distance, and the whirring of more machines.

Almost as if whoever it was had realised you were awake, a bright white light turned on above you causing you to groan from the sudden contrast to the previous darkness. The footsteps became louder, as whoever it was approached you from their hiding spot.

“Ah you’re awake,” the voice started, “you know you gave our men quite a difficult time back there. Are you going to behave this time?”

Your voice barely was able to respond, only a hushed whisper came out, “Who are you? Where am I?” This worked to rejog your memory as you saw flashes of men running after you, as you had leapt from this same table. You had gotten pretty far and fought back fairly well but this place… whatever it was; was a maze. Realising now that amongst being kidnapped and knocked unconscious. Your first attempt to escape was probably why you were in pain all over. A vision of a few men jumping on top of you and beating you unconscious. Again. That must have been why you were tied down this time.

“I think you know the answer to that.” the small man with glasses responded appearing finally out of the darkness. “…We’re HYDRA, and you y/n...” He spoke reaching under your chin in a condescending manner. “…Were firstly going to be a pawn against your stupid Captain America. But you’ve shown promise, something our other soldiers don’t have. Neither your American ones. My guess is it comes from your ballet training.” He shrugged as he moved away from you, turning and looking for something. Suddenly his hand was on a switch and machines began to rumble.

“Please,” you responded choking on your own words, “please just kill me!” You knew something was coming, otherwise why would be so aloof.

He chuckled at your words as he stood behind you. “The red skull doesn’t want me to do that, he needs more soldiers, and that’s exactly what we’re going to make you.” And with that you saw a metal machine slowly being dropped down over your left eye, and below your right jaw, causing your panic to rise. As quick as the unbearable pain started, so did darkness.

Present day ; 2017

You woke up screaming as the pain of what had happened almost a century ago shot through your entire body. You fumbled out of bed in a sweat like you did most nights. Heading towards your small kitchen in your small apartment. It was filled with greys, no life within in, you felt there was no need, why celebrate a life with no life?

Your life had changed in so many ways after 1943. You were one of HYDRA’S many toys, the many men that surrounded you called you tiny dancer, but not in a kind way, in a misogynistic arrogant way. Most people at that time though saw you as a weapon, something to be feared of, and they should have.

After you had stumbled upon the Winter Soldier on a mission in 2014 working as a freelance agent having cut your ties with HYDRA mere months before hand, it was only a few months when so had Captain America. From what you had heard amongst assassins under the radar living in Madripoor like you, it hadn’t gone well for HYDRA and now the Winter Soldier was nowhere to be found, invoking fear within many who had made themselves enemies to him. But you were sure his best friend would be looking for him. Whilst you had decided to go against helping him, Steve was not that kind of person.

Time had not been kind to you, you were no longer the frail girl who could fall in love in a week. In fact, you weren’t sure if you actually could feel love anymore. HYDRA had to make sure there was no collateral. Still once you saw him that night you wondered how amongst your many years with HYDRA, how you had never run into Bucky: The Winter Soldier. You had heard of the winter soldier, but you never knew it was Bucky behind the ghost of a person. Probably on purpose, HYDRA had been in your mind. Tthere was no doubt they knew who he was to you back then.

Not only did it invoke these thoughts, but it had led to your retirement. Well not your retirement, you were still about 25 years old on the outside, and though nor Steve or Bucky knew you were alive you knew how it felt to be in their position.

Hiding out in your small apartment in Madripoor was where you had spent most of your life since 2014, staying on the down low in case HYDRA somehow re-emerged, looking for revenge on a project they had wasted so much time on. You.

You weren’t sure why they were so surprised people like you hated them with so much anger. They had taken your life, Bucky’s life and made you weapons against your will. You didn’t hold their values, it was forced upon you.

You shook yourself from your thoughts again. You only got sentimental after nightmares, and the nightmares had been pretty continuous after seeing Bucky those few years ago, so really you were sentimental most mornings. You think it had something to do with seeing him and how it brought back memories you didn’t even know you had.

Reaching for a bottle of water, you took a sip looking over at the clock that read 3am. You groaned, knowing that you’d probably never have a good night’s sleep again. Terrible payback for a terrible past. No sleep for the wicked.

You shuffled yourself back to your room getting into bed and turning on the tv as a way to mindlessly distract yourself until you actually had to do stuff.

A few hours past until it was 7am, and you decided you could at least go for a shower before your day at work. Working at a bar that opened at 9am wasn’t exactly high class living; especially when you had to deal with drunks so early in the day, so it definitely required more motivation than most jobs. You couldn’t do what you were originally good at, dance. And you’d decided you probably shouldn’t be doing what you were trained for. Killing people.

Turning on the shower to allow it to warm up, you rid yourself of your clothes, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles were after another bad dream. Stepping in you let the water try and wash it away, and though it did help you knew it would only reappear tonight in another form of a nightmare. You closed your eyes sighing in content, and it did last for a brief moment until you heard banging on your front door.

At first you tried to ignore it, but it got louder and more aggravated and suddenly your heart had fell to your stomach, resorting to thinking of the worst that could be behind that door. Getting out you threw some clothes back on. You reached under your bed grabbing your shot gun, holding it close to yourself as you slowly walked towards the door that had started banging again. Times like this you wished you had a peep hole to look through.

You turned on your best poker face and opened the door abruptly to be more hostile. Only you were met with someone you didn’t know, though for some reason you felt you recognised. On the other side of the door stood a woman all in black, her hair was in a blonde bob and for a brief second you thought you saw a reaction flash across her face like she knew you too.

“Is this y/n?” she spoke firmly and with poise.

You raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Is it?” she returned her poker face staying on her face.

“Yes.” You huffed, the half-amused face falling from your face, returning back to the glare you constantly wore. “Who are you?”

She raised her hand for you to shake her face accompanying it with a small smile, which you hesitantly took.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@maybe-a-marvel @thatredlipped-classic @flightsandfantasy @7minutes-tomidnight @rebelemilu

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avnkin · 4 years

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enemies at heart - jj.m

A/N: I’ve been so obsessed with obx recently ksjnfjsdn not even kidding i’ve already watched it like four times,, also it’s been a hot minute since I last wrote anything so please go easy on me and as you know my inbox is open so if you want to request some jj stuff i’ll be happy to deliver it to you ;)

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, Rafe being a piece of shit as always

Word count: 1.4k

You’ve always thought JJ hated you but one night at a party something changes.

(not my gif)

The sound of your phone vibrating woke you up from your deep slumber, you groaned as you turned over in your bed reaching out for your nightstand where your phone laid. You noticed five missed calls from your friend Kiara and quickly swiped left on the screen in order to call her back.

“Y/N finally! We’ve been waiting for you all night where are you” you furrowed your brows in confusion as you looked outside your window and saw that it was pitch black “shit sorry I fell asleep”.

You heard Kiara groan on the other side of the phone “whatever just get your ass to the beach right now! or you’ll miss the entire fucking party!” and with that, she hung up. You placed your phone back onto the nightstand as you stood up and reached for the blue polo mini dress you had neatly laid out onto the floor along with some white air forces to wear for the night.

When you finished getting dressed you quickly did your hair and makeup before quietly ascending down the stairs in your house, that in your opinion was way too big for just you and your dad.

You were a kook and your dad was one of the richest men in outer banks but you could never stand hanging out with Rafe and his clan of idiots so you befriended Kiara who quickly introduced you to her friends happy with no longer being the only girl in the group.

At first, the boys weren’t so happy with another “kook princess” as they’d liked to call you to join their group but they quickly warmed up to you once they realized you were noting like Rafe and the other kooks, that is everyone except JJ. For some reason, he always had a problem with you. He made it perfectly clear that he had no interest whatsoever in being your friend.

Over the last couple of months it had gotten somewhat better between the two of you, when you first met you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with each other without arguing or bickering but now you choose to ignore all his comments, taking the high road as you didn’t want to be stirring any further problems in the group.

You carefully opened your front door and quietly shut it behind you before tiptoeing down your porch and making your way down to the beach. Your dad had never been a big fan of the people you hung out with, especially after he heard about the whole incident at the last beach party you went to when JJ pulled a gun on Topper but you never let his opinions affect the way you felt about them or stop you from hanging out with them.

“Y/N!” you heard the voice of Kie call you who sat between JJ and John B motioning for you to come over “hey” you laughed wrapping your arms around her as she stood up to hug you. When you looked over her shoulder you couldn’t help but notice JJ’s wandering eyes traveling down your body, the dress you wore was tight and hugged every single part of your body perfectly.

“Eyes up here J” you retorted giving him a questioning look, “sorry princess” he scoffed putting emphasis on the word princess which almost sounded venomous slipping off his tongue “stop calling me that” you glared at him, he shrugged before downing the beer that filled his red plastic cup. You rolled your eyes and sat down next to Pope choosing to ignore him instead of starting a fight.

JJ quickly got up as soon as you sat down and made his way across the beach finding comfort in one of the tourist girls that he usually flirted with. Kie gave you a comforting look before scooting her way towards you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder “why is he always like this” you sighed turning to face your best friend. “Honestly I have no idea” she answered, none of them did because every-time they tried to talk to JJ about it he shut them out. You frowned before letting her know you were going to get a drink, she nodded waving you off before continuing her conversation with John B.

You made your way to the keg that was ‘conveniently’ placed right next to JJ and the girl he was currently macking on. You looked over at them and scoffed before deciding to go for the harder stuff grabbing a bottle of vodka you saw laying in the sand and downing it.

“Now what do we have here” you heard the all to familiar sound of Rafe’s voice behind you, not tonight you thought as you turned around to face him, he was way too close for your liking. You attempted to move back but the metal keg was in your way trapping you in-between it and Rafe.

Rafe smirked “you’re looking good tonight Y/L/N” his breath stunk of alcohol and you scrunched your nose up in disgust as he tried to put his hands on your ass. You quickly slapped them away and attempted to get out of there with no avail as Rafe grabbed your wrist harshly and yanked you back up against his chest “no need to play hard to get sweetheart” he whispered in your ear hands traveling down your waist.

“Rafe get off of me!” you yelled once again pushing him away from you “you’re such a bitc-” he was cut off by JJ’s fist slamming into his face “are you fucking deaf or something she told you to leave her alone” JJ growled, you were pleasantly shocked that JJ was defending you, not expecting this from him.

Kiara, Pope, and John B quickly made their way over to you hearing the commission all the way from where they were sitting. Pope pulled you and Kiara back as John B made his way over to JJ.

“Whatever pogue” Rafe said before spitting in the direction of you and JJ “she’s not worth it anyways” he smirked looking JJ dead in the eyes obviously trying to get a rise out of him. But before JJ could launch at him John B stopped him pressing his hands to his chest “JJ stop” he muttered looking him dead in the eye “whatever man” JJ grumbled turning around smacking into your shoulder harshly before walking away.

You were sick of this you thought stomping after him anger consuming you as you grabbed his bicep and turned him towards you “what the hell is your problem!?” you yelled nostrils flaring as you crossed your arms over your chest, JJ smacked his lips before muttering “I have no idea what you’re talking about” and attempting to walk away again.

“No you’re not walking away from me this has been going on for way too long and I’m sick of it! What have I ever done to you that made you hate me so fucking much? huh! is it because I’m a kook because there’s nothing I can do to change where I’m from and-” you were quickly cut off by JJ’s lips pressing against your own.

You pushed him away shocked not being able to register what had just happened you had liked JJ ever since you first met, you always thought he was the hottest boy you had ever laid eyes on but figured he didn’t and would never replicate your feelings because of how he acted so over time you’d pushed those thoughts away.

You couldn’t help it you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down towards you, the feeling of his tongue slipping into your mouth as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him was something you’d dreamed of ever since you’d met.

He was now the first to separate his lips from yours as his forehead rested against your own, arms never letting go of your waist “I’m sorry for being an ass it’s just I always thought you hated me-” you cut him off “what why” he chuckled leaning his head back before looking back at you.

“I don’t know you just never really paid any attention to me and when you did I always felt like you had no interest in talking to me what so ever so I just- I don’t know shut you out before you could do it to me” You nodded but it still frustrated you that he’d been an asshole to you for almost half a year and was just now confessing his feelings.

“I’m really sorry Y/N” he sighed moving a strand of hair behind your ear and placing his index finger under your chin tilting your head up so you were now looking at him “it’s okay, i’m sorry too” you chuckled pressing your lips lightly against his.

I know this isn’t the best but just bare with me guys im trying to get back into writing 😫😫

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years

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The Princess and the Witcher: Flare

*not my gif*

Geralt x Reader

Geralt of Rivia is not a babysitter, he is not a bodyguard, and he has no interest in transporting princesses across the continent. Until gold is offered and for the next 90 days he’s saddled with a chirpy, bubbly, princess, who is betrothed to the prince of Narok and has a desire to see everything before she’s trapped behind another set of walls.

A/N: I’m sorry. (kind of)

Warnings: Language, smut, fluff, angst

They rode for nine more days in heavy silence. It’s not to say that they didn’t speak or make love beneath the moonlight but even in their interaction an invisible weigh pressed heavy on his chest. It seemed almost impossible to breathe.

Neither mentioned that their doom was slowly approaching but they could feel I from the way she pressed closer against him while they rode, and their sex drifted from rough and exciting to melancholic. Some nights, as she stared into his eyes, he could see tears building, threatening to tell him everything. One more town stood between them and the safe house in Narok where the trade would be made, love for gold.

He did love her; he knew that now. He had denied it, even after she had fallen in bed with him, but as their days drew to a close he couldn’t help but imagine running away with, missing the turn in the dusty rode and disappearing with his princess in his arms. They would never be able to find them, and even if they did, he knew he could fight them off. He would sever their heads from their bodies long before he would allow her to be taken from him. He longed to ask her, but he never seemed able to find the words necessary.

The town did not seem to understand the sadness. A carnival had sprung up in its dusty streets. Bright colors were draped from every window, streamers thrown from roof to roof. Magicians and acrobats cast a spell of wonder over the people and Geralt watched mournfully as Y/N barely registered the sight. Once upon a time it would have captivated her, he would have had to tie them together to prevent her from running out of sight but now she barely moved. Dread seeped from every pore, and when he dated to meet her eyes it was as if a knife had been plunged into his heart. They seemed old, like death was right around the corner, like there was nothing worth seeing anymore. He had never seen a change so sudden. To be so full of life one moment and then so haunting in the next was unheard of.

He had been keeping track of her health but everything she did seemed to slide under observation. When he asked when she had eaten last, she seemed to be eating, or at least holding something that should have been. When he asked if she was alright, she nodded bright before dropping into despair once more. The world seemed to hand on her shoulders, crushing her as the time drew near.

The state of her sleep was worse. When she was awake, consciousness allowed her to hide the dark workings of her mind, but sleep hid nothing. After the of the nine days he soon realized why she didn’t want to stay at inns when she woke him with frantic screams. He had never seen nightmares take hold of a body so tightly. She thrashed and screamed, pleading for the end. She begged no one and everyone, pleading to the gods to take away the burden that awaited her.

That’s what worried him, her desire for the end. He knew she had no interest in marrying, but he had never considered that she hated the idea so much that death seemed a promising alternative. Yet, she screamed for it was propriety no longer held her tongue.

He always tried to wake her, to free her from the chains of her mind, but it was to no avail. It was not until she had worn herself out completely that the screaming ceased and he was able to return to his own slumber. When she woke in the morning, it looked as if she had gotten so sleep at all. Dark circles hung heavy beneath her eyes and she stumbled when she walked, feet so heavy she was unable to lift them over the raised roots of the forest.

Even now, as they rode through the bustling town, she seemed to be drifting to sleep.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked but he was met with silence. Shaking her awake he repeated the question and she nodded, some of the hollowness disappearing from her eyes. He led Roach to stables and dismounted. She followed suit and took his hand, leading him towards the festival.

“I planned the trip around this event. I’ve heard so many stories I couldn’t bare not seeing it before the end.”

“I wish you would stop referring to your marriage as the end. And you’re much closer now, you’ll be able to come down every year,” he grumbled, and she shrugged.

“It is what it is.” He was going to argue, chastise her for the condemnation of a life she had not even experienced but before he could she slipped into the crowd. He growled and tried to follow but as the crowd parted for her, it only seemed to push him back. The festival was swallowing her up, sadness and all.

Hours passed before he saw her again, and when he did he almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Flowers were twisted through her hair and her eyes shone like fiery stars. She was laughing, dancing, twirling and twisting to the sounds of mandolins and flutes. It seemed impossible, that she could be so carefree when she had been nothing but a storm cloud for days.

He was prepared to cast aside this look alike until he saw the glass in her hand. He was sure it had been emptied numerous times before, the way she was swaying like a stalk of wheat proved that. No one dared to approach her, they could only stare in awe of the fallen angel.

“Y/N,” he called, pushing through. They didn’t seem to want him to take her away, their eyes unwilling to turn away from the magnificent sight. He made it through the crowd after he drew his sword and fear pushed away awe.

“It’s been ages,” she said with a sad smile, hopping into his arms and nestling her face into his neck.

“Where have you been.”

“Drowning.”

“I can see that.” She laughed and he did his best to ignore the discontent grumblings of the crowd around him. “Shall we get you out of here?” She nodded and he found his way to the stables before climbing onto Roach and beginning their trek out of town.

“We need to go all the way to the cabin,” she muttered, words slurring together.

“That’s another few hours, you need to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when we get there.”

“Y/N-,”

“No!” she yelled, slamming her heels into the horse’s side. Roach jolted forward sending them darting towards the meeting point. “We have to get there tonight.”

“Fine, we’ll get there, but you have to sleep, I need you to sleep and when we get there you are going to eat and take care of yourself. I don’t need to prince of Narok to think I mistreated you.” Her muscles tensed at the mention of the prince, but she didn’t argue. With uncharacteristic silence she leaned back into his chest and closed her eyes, or at least he assumed she had when the soft snores he had grown so accustom to, began.

She didn’t scream in her sleep this time; it was probably because of the motion of the horse. Whatever it was he was grateful. The cabin wasn’t as far as he had imagined, but he let her sleep awhile longer, exploring the countryside until he was satisfied that she would wake refreshed.

It wasn’t until the sun was rising that he nudged her awake and led her into the cabin.

He had expected something extravagant, velvet furniture lined with golden embroidery and what not, but it was fairly simple.

Everything sat in the main room. A circular table with two small chairs sat in the middle with a little fireplace and a bathtub. Crude cupboards lined the walls, flimsy hinges barely holding the doors to the structure. A ladder was nestled in the corner leading to a hay filled loft. However, the oddest of it all were the hooks on either side of the room, as if the previous owner had kept their horses inside the house.

“You’d think your future husband would put a little more flair into it,” he said, filling the emptiness of the room.

“I requested it this way,” she muttered uneasily, hands shaking as she stepped inside. He longed to ask her why, but as she crossed the threshold the semblance of her that he once knew slipped from his grasp.

“What now?”

“According to you, I eat, and then ‘take care’ of myself, whatever you suppose that means.”

“What does one do to prepare themselves to meet their fiancé?”

“I’m not sure, as I have never done it before.”

“You must have some idea,” he growled, frustration bubbling in his chest.

“Well, if it’s up to me I think I’ll bathe, and then we should make love in the loft. Actually, love making first.” He wanted to scream. She was teasing him, just like she had before he had gotten his hands on her. She knew they couldn’t, and yet…

“We are not going to fuck, in fact, I’m not going to touch you again,” he growled and she had the audacity to laugh.

The part of him that cared for her leaped at the sound of her laugh, but the far more animalistic side of him wanted to wring her pretty little neck.

“I wouldn’t count on it, Witcher.” He didn’t bother responding as she rummaged through the cupboards, he didn’t even dare to move until she turned around and laid those beautiful eyes on him once more. “Don’t leave me unhappy.”

“You’re a selfish brat.”

“Yes… I know,” she sighed, “It comes with the title.”

“I should scalp you, take the sand, and collect my gold.”

“Yes, you should,” she agreed, not bothering to mention that fact that he was inching closer with each passing moment. “You should leave, get on Roach and never look back. You should forget about me forever and if you ever hear of monster in Narok you should run in the opposite direction.”

He was so close now he could feel her chest as she inhaled every breath of air, the exhale tickling his chin with indignant delight.

“The only monster in Narok is the prince who is going to take you from me,” he growled, crashing against her with soft lips and rough hands. She threw her arms around him and he hoisted her onto the table, hoisting her skirt to her hips and relishing in the feeling of her legs wrapped around him for the last time.

He was careful not to bruise her as he thrust into the erotic warmness that swelled between her legs. Oh, how he longed to grip her as tightly as he could, mark her as his own, but it would do no good for either of them if the prince was aware of their torrid affair.

They did make love in the loft that morning, just as she had requested. They also did so on the table and in the bath and on the countertops. Not an inch of the little cabin was free from sin.

Morning progressed into afternoon and the sun warmed the wood that surrounded them. Just as the cabin sweltered, so did they. Fucking turned to lovemaking in the most holistic sense.

They were in the loft, sunlight streaming through the opened windows. She was like a cat in heat, slowing grinding her hips against his as she gripped his chest for support. His hands rested on her waist, but he did nothing but enjoy the sight above him. The sun turned her golden once more, the raincloud that had surrounded her for days evaporating as she moaned into the air. It was pure, this kind of love. He was sure he would never find it again, not in her lifetime at least.

“Geralt,” she moaned, drawing nearer to the end. His hands slid to her breasts as he coaxed her closer to the edge, pinching the soft mounds of flesh when her center clenched around his member and he finished inside of her with a shudder.

When the high had worn off, she flopped into the hay beside him and laughed. It was light and airy and beautiful. It was the same laugh he had heard on their first day together, one that had annoyed him then but now only succeeded in making him melt.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered and she rolled her eyes as she pulled herself onto his chest, legs straddling him once more.

“You know, I never took you for a rule follower, but here you are, lecturing me before I meet a man that doesn’t exist,” she laughed but he found himself unable to enjoy it.

A man that doesn’t exist?

“What do you mean a man that doesn’t exist?” he asked and she froze, eyes widening as she came to terms with the slip of her tongue. She clambered off of him, wrapping the blanket around her as she climbed down the ladder. He followed her down, pulling on his pants as anger began to course through his veins. He wasn’t sure he could see straight and was surprised he didn’t injure himself on the way to the ground floor. “Y/N, I asked you a fucking question. What do you mean, a man that doesn’t exist?” She shook her head, tears starting to stream down her face, but he didn’t care. He wanted, no needed, answers. The sickest part of it all, was that underneath the anger was a little semblance of hope that she would be his. When she failed to answer him, only crying softly, he took her by the shoulders and shook. “Tell me, what the fuck you meant?”

“There’s no prince of Narok,” she gasped through the sobs, struggling to get away from him, hands uselessly pushing against his chest. He tossed her to the side, ignoring the guilt when she gasped as her hip caught the table.

“Then why the fuck did I bring you here?” He stared at her with cold eyes as she sobbed on the floor, struggling to hold the blanket over her naked body. He tossed her dress at her, stomach rolling at how pathetic she looked huddled on the ground. He wanted to be angry with her, he wanted to hate her, and he found it nearly impossible when she was shivering like a whore left out in the rain for too long. He waited until she was dressed to repeat the question. “Why did I bring you here, Y/N?”

She took a breath, still gasping for air over the sobs that had racked her body, and then as if she was telling him the weather, she answered,

“You’re here to kill me.”

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years

Text

Of All the Places

Chapter 2

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: It’s a new day and Loki meets the rest of your family. He begins to formulate a plan, but it’s derailed by your hospitality before it can even begin. Chapter Warnings: none A/N: Alright, here we go. Chapter 2! Let me know what you think, and if anyone has any predictions they’d like to share, I would love to hear! Updates every Friday. Enjoy :) P.S. It’s spooky season! That has absolutely nothing to do with this fic, but it’s one of my favorite times of year

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiantfavs

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki woke up feeling a lot more alert than he had the previous day. After convincing you that he had amnesia, he spent the rest of the day drifting in and out of slumber, assisting his rapidly healing body get better even faster. He got out of the bed and stretched his aching muscles before scanning the room with fresh eyes. It was even more bare than he had originally realized, but he could tell from patches of less faded paint and wood that there was a time when it wasn’t so sparsely decorated. He flipped a switch by the entrance and the lights came on, sending a surge of panic through him that had him running over to the TV. He let out a sigh of relief when it still did’t work. Though, perhaps that was just because he was so terrible at using Midgardian technology. He stilled for a second and heard a faint mechanical hum easily identified as a generator. The cable would be back sooner rather than later, he was sure, but from looking out the bedroom’s single window, Loki knew he was in the middle of nowhere and that the internet connection was probably spotty at best. With any luck, he would be fully healed in the next few hours and could take his leave.

As he worked on massaging out the remaining dull ache in his body, Loki’s eyes finally landed on a bright pink piece of paper left atop a pile of clothes. His eyes skipped to the bottom where the signature was and, seeing that it bore your name, he went back up to the top to read it. He tugged off his sweaty, bloody clothes and pulled on the ones you’d written were left for him. The material of the shirt was soft enough, but the sweatpants were dreadfully baggy for someone who preferred form-fitting clothes that displayed his physique. Certainly, though, you’d been thinking of the comfort level of what you believed to be a very injured mortal, so he tried to remain thankful. Loki folded up his old clothes and left them in the spot where his new ones had been moments ago.

Back at the window, Loki was once again trying to determine precisely where he was. Besides the landscape, your voice and that of your father’s provided some clues to the most likely locations. He still had to be in North America, he was sure, and though he suspected it was the United States, there wasn’t anything confirming it at the moment. Your father did have a slight twang to his voice, though, so it supported his theory that he was probably in one of the southern states. Other than that, all Loki could determine was that this was a farm; a nice remote farm where he could hide from his oaf of a brother and his new overly heroic friends.

Loki called out to the Tesseract, and it appeared in his hands. Such power for such a tiny object, he thought as he turned it over in his hand. The last time it rested in his palm, he’d not fully been himself. Even so much as looking at it made him feel a little queasy now as he thought of all the crimes he’d committed with it. For it. But when his life is on the line, Loki had learned, there is very little he’d not do to save himself. It was one similarity he shared with mortals that he’d rather not. It was also one of the few he’d actually admit were there. But, no, some mortals were righteous beings. He knew that, but had trouble separating those of a higher caliber from the rest of the species. He wondered what kind of mortal you were, before being pulled out of his musings by a delicious aroma. He debated for a minute before once again tucking the Tesseract away in its dimensional pocket and heading out of the room, down the stairs, towards the amazing scent coming from a lower floor.

“Not a thing,” he heard your voice ring out as he got closer.

“Or so he says,” responded an unfamiliar female voice.

When he rounded the corner he saw it belonged to a woman that must be your mother, or else your older doppelgänger because of how alike the two of you looked. Your dispositions, though, could not have been more different. The first person to notice him lurking half-in, half-out of the room was a small boy who pointed at him.

“New friend!” he cheered. “New friend!”

Such innocence as Loki had never known continuously amazed him. He feared he could be dangerous for this child, but he would be gone so soon that he wouldn’t even be a blip in the boy’s memory.

“I would very much like to be your friend, indeed,” Loki said, crouching down to the boy’s height as he toddled over. The adults in the room all shot each other glances, but no one moved to do anything. “And what might your name be?”

“I’m Matt. And I’m this many,” the child responded, proudly holding up four fingers.

“A pleasure to meet you, Matt. My name is Loki.”

“How many are you?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Oh, far too many to count on fingers, little one. In fact, I am 1,047 years old,” he said, realizing that it would probably just be seen as a joke to amuse the boy, rather than a fact.

He laughed at Loki’s statement, but before he could reply, a woman that was presumably his mom called him over. “Don’t bother our guest right now, Matt. He’s still recovering,” she scolded.

“I assure you, it is completely fine, Mrs...?”

“Johnson. But, please, feel free to call me Ana. And this is my husband, John.”

“Glad to make your acquaintance,” Loki charismatically said, though on the inside he was laughing at the name “John Johnson.” These mortals and their foolish names. “And I do believe we already met,” he added, turning to you.

“Yes, we did. You were so out of it I wasn’t quite sure you remembered. This is Mama,” you said, gesturing to the woman who Loki had correctly identified as your mother.

“Hello,” she drawled, fixing the god with an icy stare.

“Papa, did you hear? Loki’s awake,” you told the man walking out of the kitchen with a plate of light brown disks stacked high.

“Glad you’re up, son. Just in time for pancakes, too,” he said, immediately diffusing the tension brewing between Loki and Mama. “Come on, plop yourself down on a seat over here. You must be pooped, and I promise we don’t bite.”

Loki sauntered over to the chair Papa had gestured to and sat down. Feeling a fuzzy mass moving between his sprawled legs, he peered down and saw a grey-brown cat under the table. He’d never been one for pets, but the soft fur was comforting to his weary soul.

“Taffy,” you tsked at the feline before looking back up at Loki with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I hope you’re not allergic.”

“Do not worry, I am not. At least,” he added, remembering his lie from the day prior, “I do not remember that I am.”

Loki appraised your charming family in your quaint farmhouse, almost feeling bad to intrude. Though, he reminded himself, he’d be out of your hair before you knew it. Papa was the only one happily chattering on about this year’s harvest, oblivious to the tension at the table, or else ignoring it. The God of Mischief refocused on the plan he’d created this morning; he needed answers. You were seated beside him and, besides your father and nephew, the only one who didn’t seem wary of him. And you were really the only viable option as Loki didn’t want to get sucked into a conversation about the wheat crop with your father, and Matt was at the age where he was only vaguely aware he was on planet Earth.

“If you do not mind,” he started, turning to you, “I have a few questions.”

“Of course you do. Sorry, I’m such an idiot,” you said smacking your forehead. “Please, ask away.”

The way you immediately seemed to blame and degrade yourself reminded Loki of himself. The difference, however, was that you did it aloud while Loki kept it bottled up. Whose way was better, he didn’t know. Perhaps neither was really good.

“It is quite alright,” he reassured you. “To begin, where exactly are we?”

Apparently it was some hole in the wall in Oklahoma, so Loki had been fairly correct in his middle of nowhere assessment. Apparently, you weren’t outrageously far from Oklahoma City, though Loki felt it best he avoid cities for a little bit. The nearby town that your farm was technically a part of was a very close knit community, so you knew that wasn’t where he was from.

“I see,” he said, planning his next move. “And that is how far from New York?”

“Far. Why? Is that where you’re from?” you asked, getting excited for Loki that he might already be getting his memory back.

“I am not sure,” Loki lied. “I just seem to think that is where I was headed. Or coming from.”

“Maybe you were at some kind of convention,” John offered, tuning in to the conversation. “Aren’t those a big thing in New York City?”

“It would sure explain the clothes!” Papa added.

“Great. Let’s send him back there,” Mama said, already standing up like she intended to drive him there right at the moment.

“Mama,” you harshly whispered, hating how unwelcoming she was being.

“Maybe he was on vacation from England. He does have an accent,” Ana chimed in, hoping to prevent a fight.

“I am afraid that I do not remember,” Loki muttered.

He was thankful no one was even concerned about how he arrived here. There was something else, too. He was feeling uncharacteristically ashamed because of how helpful you all were being. Well, most of you were being, anyway. He reminded himself again that he would be gone within the hour.

“It’s ok,” you soothed. “Like I said yesterday, you can stay here for as long as you need. In fact, I insist that you do.”

“I... Thank you.”

Loki still planned to leave rather quickly, but the kind look in your eyes compelled him to stay for a little while longer. After all, it couldn’t hurt to think about his next move a bit more. If he were to use the Tesseract again, Heimdall would surely notice. So, he’d lie low for a while and then get off this accursed planet.

“Well if he’s going to be staying here, he better help out some,” Mama grumbled. “I won’t have any freeloaders on my farm.”

“Now now, honey,” Papa said, patting her hand. “He’s still injured, after all.”

“On the contrary, I would happy to help,” Loki interjected, shooting a charming smile at Mama. “I am feeling much better now.”

“See, Earl,” Mama said triumphantly. “He’s fine.”

Everyone else tried to fight on Loki’s behalf but, between him and Mama, it was a losing battle. Eventually, it was time to clean up from breakfast, and you took him away from the clattering of empty dishes to find him so work clothes. The trickster god got a much better look at the rest of the house while you led him higher and higher until you reached the attic. You hesitated a second before opening a box labeled “James’s Clothes.” As you gently picked up the shirt on top, Loki peered over your shoulder wondering who this stuff belonged to.

“My brother’s,” you began before he could ask, sensing the question on his tongue. “We were going to donate them anyway, so I suppose it doesn’t really matter. And don’t worry, I’ll talk to Mama before she sees you. I’d give you some of John’s things, or Papa’s even, but you know.”

Indeed, Loki did know. Though he was roughly the same height as both the men, he was much leaner than they were. Unfortunately, that was about the only thing he understood. Your little distracted speech left him with even more questions than before, but something in him was screaming not to push you, to think of someone else for once. So, all he said was thank you. After a quick pit stop in the room from the night before to change into the bundle of clothes you’d given him, Loki made his way back downstairs where yet another argument was taking place. He was certain that his arrival was causing more tension than normal. His mind briefly flitted to his own family. It all seemed so picturesque, once, but that time was long gone. His mother—or Queen Frigga, as he supposed he should start calling her—never changed. She was as kind and gentle as ever, yet still possessed this refined regality and power. In other words, she was the complete opposite of Mama, who turned on her heel and made a disgruntled sigh as she exited when Loki appeared.

“There ya are, son,” Papa greeted once she was gone. “We had an idea while you were up there. We should make you up a missing person ad. I’m sure someone’s bound to know who you are.”

There was that sickeningly Thor-esque optimism in Papa’s voice. Not to mention the nickname “son” which, for someone like Loki at least, was one of the worst thing he could be called. He did his best not to grimace.

“No thank you,” he replied, before continuing at the behest of your confused looks. “I certainly would not want to put you out any more than I already have.”

“Nonsense. We just gotta find the camera,” Papa said, already moving past him.

Loki just sighed, deciding he’d find a way to stall later. When he finally looked back at you, your hands were clasped behind your back and you were nervously shifting your weight.

“In the meantime,” Loki began, picking up where he left off with your father, “why not show me what I may help with?”

You took him out to the chicken coop and taught him how to collect eggs. He supposed it made sense this was the task left for him considering you all still thought he was a fragile human. As you taught him, you prattled on about your life and your family. You mentioned how Mama met Papa, and how your sister met John, but nothing about your brother. Loki was on the verge of asking, but he didn’t want to make his time with you awkward. Even more than that, he didn’t want it to seem like he cared. No need to cause any extra pain when he inevitably left, right? Though your glittering eyes and stunning smile were working overtime to convince him otherwise.

“That’s all there is to it,” you said, finishing up your tutorial. “Any questions?”

“None at all. You are an excellent teacher.”

You two shared a laugh, and Loki was shocked by how easily conversation was flowing. Though, he let you do most of the talking, lest he reveal something that does not align with the rest of his story. All too soon, you had to leave to take care of your other chores. For a second, Loki felt as if he missed you already, but he quickly pushed the thought out of his mind and focused on the task at hand. Just a week, he repeated in his mind as he gently placed eggs in the basket you’d given him. Just a week.

As he approached the farmhouse, he noticed a thick newspaper on the long driveway. He went over to examine it and, sure enough, he’d made the headlines. No clear photos of him attached, luckily, but the clothes were distinctive enough that you would recognize him for sure. Loki looked side to side before performing a quick spell to get rid of the paper. He headed back over to the house before anyone could notice him, ignoring the annoyingly persistent guilt bubbling within him.

“Just a week,” he muttered to himself again as he neared where you were on the front porch. “Just a week.”

But deep down, he already knew it would be much longer than that.

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basura2319 · 4 years

Text

Take A Break

(Gif credit)

Pairing: Jango Fett x reader

Requested by: anonymous

Anonymous said:

“Hi! Can I request Jango x reader fluff? Your writing is really good!”

WC: 1.9k

Warnings: slight angst but fluff overall

A/N: I’m sorry for the lack of uploads guys. I hope whoever requested this likes it!

The annoying blare of the chronometer was what had awoken you and Jango from your peaceful slumber.

You buried yourself further into the covers as if that would block out the noise.

“Jango, turn it off!” you whined.

You heard a grunt, then the blaring stopped.

You sighed contently and closed your eyes.

“Seriously?” Jango’s voiced, the sleep still imminent in his voice. He gently pulled the covers off of you to reveal you, glaring at his disruption. “What? Is this the ‘good morning’ I get from you?”

You closed your eyes and smirked at him. “Yes, because you woke me up.”

He placed both hands on your hip to pull you in forward, making you jolt. “It’s my turn to retrieve the bounty, remember?” he said stated.

It’s true. You both had to take turns leaving Kamino for your bounty hunting endeavors, while one of you stayed behind with little Boba. You didn’t understand why you both had to do this. Jango received a huge sum of fortune for being the clone-template for the Kaminoans; enough credits so he would never have to work for the rest of his days. All those years partnering with him just goes to show how Jango was a man who always needed something to do. A man always on the move. You, on the other hand, were the same, but you also believed in taking breaks from this profession too.

Your lips formed into a pout. “I know.” Your gaze traveled to the fine lines on his face from all his years of fighting.

“I sometimes wish you could take a break from all this,” you said solemnly, tracing patterns over his face.

He said nothing, just took your hand that was touching his face and began to kiss along the pads of your fingers.

“I need to get ready,” was all he said before getting out of your shared bedroom.

You stayed on your bed for a few seconds before getting up to use the refresher. After checking up on Boba, who was still sound asleep (lucky him) you ventured into your kitchen to make breakfast.

You gathered your ingredients and commenced your cooking. Pancakes seemed like something to brighten up your disheartened mood. Not to mention, your little Boba would appreciate them too.

Taking the already prepped batter, you poured a good, almost even amounts onto the griddle.

“Pancakes?” you heard Jango say behind you.

“Pancakes,” you nodded, taking note that he was already in his armor. You looked away wistfully and flipped the pancakes with your spatula.

He saw your clear disappointment at his departure and his chest crept with guilt. Of course he felt bad that he had to leave you and his son behind while he made some credits, but it was grained in him since the beginning of his bounty hunting career to work non-stop. You were a notorious bounty hunter too, but he knew that there would come a day when you would be ready to cast it all aside and live a quiet life. With him of all people. Jango was aware that he had to set his bounty hunting ways aside someday. It was the question of when that day would come.

He stood behind you, setting both hands on your hips and brushed his lips over the nape of your neck.

“You’re mad at me,” he pressed a kiss below your ear.

You shivered slightly at the feeling but continued to flip the pancakes. “No.”

He could tell you were lying by the tone of your response.

You moved away from his grasp to fetch a plate for him, then handed him his breakfast.

“Thank you cyar’ika,” he said, giving you a peck on the lips before taking the plate from you.

You gave him a small smile before serving yourself.

You both sat there, making small talk about the bounty he was going to after.

“How long will you be gone,” you said while adding more syrup to your pancakes.

Jango reached over to touch your hand in a feather-light motion.

“If everything goes right, I should be back in a week,” he stated, watching your reaction.

You nodded, expressionless. “Okay.”

After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up again.

“I’m going to say good-bye to Boba,” he let go of your hand to move.

You took yours and his empty plate and placed it into the sink to wash later.

Moments later, Jango came into the kitchen carrying his four-year-old son, who was half awake.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you swept your hand over his curls, kissing his forehead.

“G’morning,” he said dreamily, rubbing the sleep of his eyes.

Jango smiled softly at his little family, regretting having to leave behind moments like these.

“Buir has to go to work ad’ika,” Jango said, giving him to you to carry.

“Why?” his small voice quavered, and his brown eyes gleaned with unshed tears.

“I’ll be back,” he hugged you both. “Behave towards (Y/N), okay?”

Boba replied with an “mhm.”

“I made you pancakes, sweetie,” you said to him to which you saw his the corners of his lips lift into a grin at the mention of pancakes.

“I have to go,” he kissed you both on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Be careful out there,” you wavered. “Come back to us.”

He kissed you again, but this time on your lips. “I will.”

“Bye, daddy!” Boba waved at him, and you sat him on a chair to give him his pancakes.

“Good-bye ad’ika,” you heard him say before the sound of the door opened and shut, leaving you and Boba on your own.

Cutting the pancakes into smaller bits, you gave your little one his food and watched how he devoured it all with a delighted look on his face.

Noticing your far-off look, he slides off his chair to climb onto your lap.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in concern, hugging you with his small arms.

You stared at him, the spitting image of Jango, of course, because he was an exact replica of him and smiled softly at him.

“I just miss your father, little Boba,” you said, soothing his unkempt hair back.

“Me too,” sighed Boba afterward.

The following days were spent trying to entertain Boba, but since it always rained on Kamino, there was nothing the both of you could do except stay inside. However, you did what you could. You made a blanket fort with him, watched holo-movies, read to him, and you even managed to get him to help you with cooking. The Kaminoans would occasionally come knocking on your door to see if everything was alright, or more likely to see if you and Boba weren’t stirring any trouble. Four years living on Kamino, and you got the sense that they didn’t trust you or Jango. The feeling was mutual.

Also, Jango would send you messages over how things were going. He was in the mid rim according to his messages. A long distance from Kamino.

Overall, you and Boba were having fun despite the lingering feeling that you two were missing someone important who should be with you right now.

Entering the living-room, you laughed to yourself as you spotted an exhausted Boba asleep on the couch, clutching his stuffed animal. Poor thing. He was spent from all that running around the house playing a game of tag with you. You picked him up and bought him to his room, changing him into his pajamas before leaving him to sleep undisturbed.

You cleaned up the mess around the apartment, then headed for your room. Yeah, you were also tired from chasing that little maniac around. Kriff, you were getting old, you thought as you stretched out your arms.

A shower later, you hit the covers and your mind, too tired to wonder about anything else, fell into a spiral of dreams.

Not long after Jango returned, entering into a silent home. He put his helmet, weapons, and armor away in his closet before heading to your shared bedroom.

Jango did not want to wake you, so he tried his best to maneuver in the dark. But the lights turned on, revealing you on the bed, aiming your blaster at him.

“Oh,” you mumbled disoriented while setting the weapon at your bedside. “It’s just you.”

Jango looked sheepishly at you. “I was trying not to wake you.”

“I heard rummaging outside, plus I thought you had a few more days until you came home.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I managed to capture the bounty quickly and in good time.”

“Of course you did,” you said, smiling tiredly. You patted the empty side of the bed. “Come to bed, Jango.”

He raised a brow at you. “But I stink.”

“So?” you scoffed. “I want to cuddle with my lover, regardless of how he smells.”

He chuckled softly. “Nah, cyare, I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” you huffed, watching him enter the refresher.

“It’ll be quick,” he said, closing the door.

You flopped back onto the bed, your droopy eyes staring up at the ceiling and ears listening to the running water for a time. You heard Jango opening the refresher door, and you sat up, staring at his bronzed chest glistening with droplets of water and his stark black hair tousled in yearning.

“What,” he said, meeting your eyes as he removed his towel to change.

You rested your palm under your cheek. “I missed you.”

He hung his towel to dry and slipped underneath the covers.

You turned off the lights and faced him.

“Come here,” he said, and you sidled into his strong his arms wrapping you close to him. He nuzzled your neck and kissed his way up to meet up with your lips. His lips devoured yours languidly, and you sighed happily.

“I have something to tell you,” he said in-between kisses.

You brushed over his lips one last time before drawing back. “Nothing bad, I hope.”

He cradled the back of your head with his one hand, bringing you in closer to for a keldable kiss.

“Not at all,” his breath fanned over your face.

You raked your hand through his damp hair in the dark. “Okay, so what is it?”

He went silent for a minute. “I was thinking about what you said the other day,” his thumb brushed your cheek. “About taking a break from hunting for a while, and I agree.”

“What?” You echoed.

The thumb brushing your cheek stilled. “I think we don’t have to take turns leaving Kamino to hunt all the time,” he continued. “I thinking taking a break will be good for us, for Boba.”

He couldn’t see your expression in the dark, but he didn’t have to see you for him to know you were looking at him as if he grew a second head.

“Jango? Taking a break from bounty hunting?” You gasped dramatically, clutching his shirt. “What have you done with my lover?”

He pinched your side, and you yelped.

“Ow!” you whined, rubbing where he pinched you. “But seriously though, what brought this on? You’ve never taken breaks.”

“I just want to spend more time with you and Boba,” he replied nonchalantly. “I believe it would do us good.”

You giggled. “I can’t believe I’m hearing you say you want a vacation.”

He tickled your sides, causing you to double over in laughter.

“Stop! You’ll wake up Boba,” you whispered harshly at him as you tried pathetically to push his hands away.

You both held each other in comfortable silence.

“Mon Cala.”

“Hmm?”

He held your hand and kissed your inner wrist. “Let’s go to Mon Cala.”

You rolled on top of him in a flurry of excitement, causing him to grunt at the sudden movement. “Hell yeah!”

Permanent Taglist: (Lmk if you want to be added or removed): @chaotic-noceur @kaminobiwan

#requests #jango fett #jango fett x reader

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 12)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 11

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Protectiveness for his child of surprise may be the only thing that could get a witcher confessing to a midget with all of his pent up aggression and kept up feelings that he has been dealing since day one because he knew he wasn’t just protecting Cirilla. Deep inside, he was also protecting you from the wicked that lurks throughout the continent; trying hard to wipe you out of their dimension by hook or by crook. One kiss is all it takes for all the frustration to stop...or maybe not?

Warnings: Slight angst? MEAN Geralt. Sweet Geralt too. Soft Geralt too. (It’s kind of a tough contrast don’t you think? HAHAHA!) Jaskier feeling...things that shouldn’t be felt. Uh-oh. Reader being frustrated and infuriated. Cirilla being a sweetheart! Modern references included!

Words: 7,1k

A/N: Smut will come in Chapter 14 and 15. Yes, two chapters for the filth! Because...Why not?! (*frustrated potato*) I THINK TUMBLR IS ACTING UP. I SEE FICS WHERE I’M TAGGED BUT I AM NOT INFORMED. ALSO, I CAN’T INCLUDE PICS OR GIFS FROM MY LAPTOP! *angry growls* I’m lucky because i’ve had my banners and other gifs in my drafts last night and Tumblr is acting up today!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Your days have been quite a torture. A mix of embarrassment and full blown flusters when Geralt was around. It was simply a slip of the moment as you were too enamored by the witcher and his succulent lips that you oh-so-idiotically swerved when you could've went straight for the target instead.

Yet, here you were. Torturing yourself by taunting the witcher the day after the time you've began your self-assuring tease by telling Geralt what you've been feeling since the day you've arrived.

Now, you were being punished? Or probably suffering from a serious case of insomnia and the idea of missing his presence because the witcher wasn't around and it has already been days.

What if he gets hurt? You mindlessly talked to your alter ego, receiving a response that he's a tough one and a pretty skillful swordsman, so worrying about it like a wife does to her husband who was a soldier can be toned down to the slightest.

God, those lips. You were an idiotic potato for even doing the first move and eventually failing as you do so; like a five year old giving her crush a kiss. Well, pretty much five year old were more confident than you in this condition.

Warm palms spread through your shoulder, giving you a fright as you sat back and your tushie fell to the ground with a soft thud; with Kolby giving you those scary smile of his that made you want to pat his head but today, it seems like you weren't in the mood and that there was something bothering you with your thoughts wandering about Geralt. The witcher himself and only him.

You were acting like a clingy girlfriend when you both weren't lovers at all. Maybe, being delusional and creating fan-fics about your celebrity crushes back at your apartment wasn't enough that you even had to think that Geralt would want to be with you forever like how such happy endings in stories must have been.

What if he was just one horny man who wanted to hulk-smash because you were different than his flock of felines?

Well, it wasn't like you weren't acting the same way like a toey teenager when he hauled you closer to his chest; giving him the heart eyes.

Why must he be a white-haired hunk of a man who knew how to fight and knew magic? Even skillful with his sword?

"Oh---Geralt!" you shrieked out of the blue, the body heat of Jaskier's presence radiating beside you as he sat crouched with a crooked smile, "I must say, you're quite obsessed with the witcher since that awfully intimate moment you've had in the bathing room,"

You ignored the teasing tone he omitted and went on to shooting a question you've been bothering him since the day Geralt was out and about, "Where's Geralt?" hence, the bard could already hear the tiny whines for the presence of the witcher and he couldn't help but scoff.

"You're hurting my poor heart for asking Geralt when it's actually a pretty handsome bard in front of you,"

Your lips instantaneously jutted out in a sad pout, exhaling a long sigh as you shifted your legs into a criss-cross position; staring into space, "I need Geralt," pause and another sigh, "---I miss Geralt,"

The sudden strong yearning was becoming worse each day without Geralt around. It felt incomplete, unsatisfying and utterly frustrating that he wasn't with you, nor can you even sleep without feeling those fingers of his raking your hair even though it was only done one time.

Heck, you were worried that maybe Geralt used magic within you when you've taken your slumber because the feelings you have for him was turning insufferable, irksome when you want something but has never been given and utmost round the bend.

All you wanted and ever asked for was Geralt. Geralt. Geralt. Geralt. In which, confused the bard because you've become too attached after the Djinn incident.

"This is certainly a huge relationship development if you're finding him that miserably all the time," Jaskier stated the obvious, his laugh sounding disturbed because of your new personality that he'd noticed; or maybe you were one of those types of women?

Though, what baffles him the most is that there are days where you actually don't try to find him; like you were being just you and not one needy lady whom asks for only the witcher when he'll be coming home. Just the timid, naive small rat he knew.

There were also strange instances whenever you sleep back in Geralt's chambers; as he was writing another new epic he'd ought to create, the bard heard you whimpering and sobbing like you were in pain when it was already two in the morning.

He'd wanted to check up on you. Though, he was quite doubtful because a woman deserves whatever space and respect; thinking that maybe you were spending some wonderful time with yourself and had the pleasant time to take it while Geralt wasn't around. But, your whimpers were something else. It was a mixture of pain and distress.

Therefore, Jaskier tried to ignore your hushed outcries, although he could technically hear it from the other side of the room. The draft of his epic now forgotten as he fidgeted; he went on with dipping the tip of his feather on the ink and write nothing on his piece of parchment.

After hearing those nightly weeps of yours, the bard never left your side. Especially when you were alone in the morning, thinking that you were having a mental breakdown and actually just missing the witcher.

He could do just that. Distract you with his talkative self and so he did.

"A witcher needs to do what he always does," the bard reassured, waving off Kolby who tried sniffing his ear.

You've snapped out of your stupor, giving the bard a stink eye as he was wailing his arms around to wave Kolby away from assaulting his face, "I thought you were his travel companion? Why are you here? Shouldn't you be protecting him as well?"

Jaskier continued his bellyaching, "You naughty Hirikka!" he scolded the doe-eyed Hirikka; the creature abruptly planting his tushie on the ground as he growled at the bard as the toubadour mockingly growled back as well, a sharp bark coming from the Hirikka, "---What? With a lute? Kill beasts with my singing?"

"Then, what are you even here for?" you deadpanned. Voice all nonplussed as you apathetically gave the bard your gaze.

Jaskier made a fuss, shifting on his crouched position and turned to completely give you his full attention, giving you back a stinky lour, "How rude of you! I wonder why the djinn has never sent you home!"

You had your cheeks hollowed looking like a chipmunk as you ignored his whingeing, "What if he dies?"

Jaskier was fighting off the feeling of rolling his eyes for your worry. Geralt has dealt with lots of beasts already and his current hunt wouldn't earn him a sweat as he'd already killed a lot of its kind, "He never does. Cease the worry. He can kill beasts even when he sleeps," the bard gave an abrupt pause, gesturing with his finger as he pointed it to you to add more effect as you tried to understand his point, "---Unless, if its you he's sleeping with then we all die from the beast! Cirilla and I know how his senses are disappointing because you're like the silver to his...his...monster?"

"He isn't a monster, Jaskier." you blankly pressed.

"Who even said he was?" he gave you a guileless shrug of his shoulders. Jaskier clicked his tongue, pretty blue eyes fixated on you as it twinkled along the sunny day while you sat in the middle of their living room, "---Besides, he's hunting down a bruxa for the whole week. My dagger won't be useful for the darn beast,"

A Bruxa. You hummed to yourself in understanding; remembering that Geralt has told stories about the monster. It was a type of vampire that takes on the appearance of a dark-haired, young woman whose natural form is that of a large black bat, with sharp fangs and claws. Technically, their form of vampires weren't all glitz and glimmer that they glitter against the sunlight nor are they rich dudes that were bloody pale, attractive and screams like a banshee.

"You have a dagger?" you grilled the bard. He gave you a nod and a laid-back answer, "Well, Geralt has given me one; taught me how to use it too,"

Jaskier hasn't left your side from the moment you woke up. He had been keeping you company like an injured person. It kept you cynical because it even got to the point of following you where ever you may go; which made you skeptical about his whole tailing the midget while Geralt wasn't around.

But, you were thankful. It got you distracted by not noticing that heavy, rattling feeling inside your chest.

"Smile!" you aimed the camera of your cellphone at the appalled trouvère who had his eyeballs popping out of his eye sockets as he was struck dumb, arms crossed in front of him, shielding himself from your digital phone.

Stifling titters wanted to come out of your lips when you've received a scared bard by aiming your camera at him. Jaskier tried peeking to see your guffawing self treating him as a laughing stock. He cocked his head to the side in suspicion as he heard a loud 'click', dropping his arms to the side as he gave a frown because you were giggling back at him.

"What's that?" you've both sat on the dining table; close to each other. He'd scooted closer, trying to see what were you doing as you continued to tap on your phone that still had no time nor date listed. "A phone," you simply said; focused on the phone at hand as Jaskier's curiosity got the best of him, grasping nothing but the idea that your so called phone was out of this world and utterly magnificent when you've showed him the picture you've taken. The kaleidoscope of colors complimenting each picture which fascinated him.

"Is it a weapon?" he asked out of the blue, too absorbed by the phone on your hand as you've felt Jaskier lean in close, his hair touching yours as you were too concentrated with the thing you had in your hand.

Jaskier coincidentally raised his line of vision to look at your face. It was thoroughly unintentional especially when he'd seem to never break his eyes away from you; like he'd seen something worth to be stared at.

He didn't mean to outstare all of a sudden.

"I can throw it at your head, though my phone might be the one breaking rather than your head," you sent a harmless bon mot, being all smiles as you've sent a teasing jest.

Tranquil silence. Totally impossible for the bard to achieve with his chatty mouth. You've given him a look which was entirely a flicker of pure impeccability when you've lately realized that he was staring at you with a twinkle of his pretty ocean blue eyes.

The bard awkwardly cleared his throat, his face suddenly feeling warm when you've taken the time to look into his eyes. "Jaskier," he clicked his tongue and swallowed the ticklish feeling down his throat and avoided those eyes of yours while he'd pulled back from how the proximity was enough to remember Geralt who would tell him to 'fuck off.' for at least a thousand times, "Would you mind if I record your songs?"

He blinked back in curiosity. Record. Jaskier didn't know what it meant, "What? I cannot fathom whatever it is you're saying, rat---"

You've given him a wide grin, beaming before him with a twinkle of your eyes. "Just play your lute for me, will ya'?"

Thus, Jaskier did in a fraction of a second; like a demand from the queen. He did, surprisingly.

A distraction was best at the weird pain that spreads through your chest; along the valley of your breasts because of the realization that Geralt wasn't around. Your nightly weeps needed to have explanations because feeling the scorching pain that radiates off the symbol wasn't normal.

Including the thirst you had for the witcher himself; craving for his touches and existence. Alarming you that what you wanted from him wasn't just profound affection but also his virility as well and even a part of his soul.

The princess of Cintra was bored to tears. She'd pleaded and gave you the puppy eyes; thoroughly begging to wander through the woods and catching fireflies. Hearing something familiar that actually existed just like the same ones in earth amazed you because it was something that you've never get to see ever because of pollution and its habitat being endangered with the year you were in.

Apparently, you've followed her orders. Cirilla didn't want Jaskier to come because it's a bonding that only you and Cirilla should experience. Despite of how pushy he was, worried that Geralt would get mad at him for even letting you wander in the woods all by yourselves. He eventually agreed with a sigh and a bothered expression; telling you both that when the frog croaks in chorus, it was time to go home.

You've wondered, imagining how their frogs actually croak in chorus. Yet, having to experience it was rather much different than imagining as you've seen the whole scene unfold before you. A captivating sigh that had you cooing in the middle of the woods as there were balls of light that blinked within the thone ground like Christmas lights twinkling in the 25th of December.

It was beautiful.

Cirilla seemed to be rather used to it as she explained how it was already the croak of the night, her feet never leaving the ground as she was joyously catching a firefly that glowed with the frogs, swinging her jar till one was captured, "Is everything okay, Y/N? Oh! A firefly!" she excitedly mussed, giving you a glance and noticed that your expressions were twisted in a way that says you weren't comfortable.

You've given your symbol a caress; trying to relieve the utter worry and fury that was spreading through your chest with no reason. Why were you mad? At whom? on what? Also, the uncomfortable feeling came with knowing that Geralt already came home. He was finally home.

Howbeit, you didn't know why your intuitions tell you that he was finally home.

"Yes. It's just that...Geralt's home," you hesitatingly spoke, shaking your head to wash away the sensations as you honestly told the beaming Ashen child, "---and I feel worried even though I should be excited that he's already home,"

Cirilla was unaware of your worried face as she went on with the jests, "Told you he likes you---!" the princess teased, laughing when she'd caught a glimpse of your flustered face; remembering the awful kiss you've done back in the bath room when you were with Geralt, "---Midget."

"Not you too, Cirilla." your face was burning in a trail of blush. You've quietly shrieked as she'd gave a teasing poke on your side; making you jump, "I was just playing with you!"

All was done and everyone was left satisfied. For the princess, that was what she felt. Great elation by having what she wanted all the time. Except for you, who appeared to be in a discordance when you took your trek back home.

The witcher was back earlier than he expected to. Unexpectedly running into some of the royal guards of Kaedwen and creating a skirmish with the knights who disturbed his peace after killing the bruxa he'd been hunting.

They had reasons for their disturbance. Conniving reasons just for him to agree for the favors that he has been asked to do; or wishes from a royal command that Geralt never accedes.

Bargains of giving enough coins that would last him for half a year, the cost of token higher than the previous deal which included women, coins and ale.

He was done with that lifestyle. Well, before you came around; that is.

The witcher was as stubborn as how the townspeople have been saying. They've came to the point of calling him a monster for butchering their fellow men in which Geralt never gave a damn about it because they were destined to die anyway by what evil they've chose to have.

He didn't need people giving him another moniker. He wouldn't let it live down if he'll have one but with just another city he'd tried to save. Some of the children and women they've abducted were homeless, taken in force or had slave contracts; saying they were owned by noblemen paying for their life despite of how they didn't want to agree in the first place.

The Butcher of Kaedwen? Blaviken? What else did he needed to do and have all those infamous monikers created for him?

Until, the men mentioned and threatened to kidnap a small woman who Tybalt had stabbed on the hip that made Geralt jump on his horse because he'd also heard them draw their swords; ought to bring bloodshed when the witcher never complies.

Hence, which is why he was now in the base of their home. All exhausted, droopy, worried and furious because you and Cirilla weren't home when he'd arrived. His temper rising off the roof.

Jaskier has received a sharp cuss from him and an intense rebuke from the witcher who came fully in Bruxa blood and a little bit splashes of human blood which answered the bard's question that a Bruxa hasn't been the only thing he'd encountered on the way home.

You promised Jaskier that you'll be back as soon as possible. However, it took you both an hour after the frogs have croaked in the night and a scary witcher who wore his all black armor and had a peevish expression on his face which explains the heavy feeling dropped on your chest; doubling more when you'd seen the impetuosity radiating off the brawny man.

Geralt heavily marched to meet you midway along the meadow; with Jaskier motioning something behind the witcher with his hands like a cat clawing and slicing his throat with his thumb when you couldn't understand what he wanted to say.

"Geralt---" the princess started, reading his rigid posture and instantly knowing what his current thoughts were. But, she was cut-off by a seething, curt query start of his interrogation.

This wasn't what you expected from him. Your imagination was that you'll try and get a hug out from the witcher himself, thankful that he'd arrived safely and with complete limbs; not this. Not an angered, bloody Geralt who had his nose flaring.

You were rooted on the ground; your mouth closing once he'd started to act volatile after a week of not seeing him.

"Where have you wandered in the forest in this wild hour of the night, Ciri? Y/N?"

Ah. Y/N. Not midget, but Y/N. You were now Y/N to him. Well, that kind of hurt. You didn't know that hearing him say your name in such fiery stung your heart; such sudden frustration riling your patience. The concern and melancholic desire to see him changing into ire.

You've shut your mouth, a forced small tremble of your lips turning into a guileless smile. Tilting your chin and realizing he was pretty much taller and utterly intimidating when mad. Those amber eyes of his that swirl in unfamiliar ferocity for wandering around the woods.

The witcher couldn't help it. After meeting some of the royal guards, his protectiveness took over as he traveled all the way home in haste to check his family if they were safe.

Especially you as he'd heard one of the cavaliers threaten to abduct you soon.

The naive pretense you've wanted to use through his anger wavered when you've heard your voice faintly quiver, "She's--She's with me, she's safe, Geralt. We were just catching fireflies or whatever this is called in your world---"

Albeit, it seemed like the witcher had a closed mind and didn't want to hear your explanations as he cut you off with a seething truth; his amber eyes blazing as his jaw was clenched so tight, "You think you can protect her?"

You swallowed the hurt for the truth that was sent out in the open, catching you off-guard by the harsh statement that was bound to be told because you were saved twice; like a princess who needed rescuing all the darn time.

Thus, it added more stones to the weight dragging your heart to the ground.

"I--I--" a pathetic stutter has been uttered before the angered witcher seemed to have lost his temper and lashed out on you. He was chirlish and brusque as he does so; like how everyone pointed him out to be and this was the first time you've seen the witcher acting the way he is now, "You can't because you also need saving," pause. "---Your rash behavior can get the both of you dying!"

The latter shook his head in thwart, his gaze burning you in a way that made you want to turn into dust.

"It was fucking dangerous out there!"

The more he gnarled felt like he was blaming you on whatever caused his life to turn the way it is; even the desire for Cirilla to wander in the woods to catch fireflies was all on you to be brought on your shoulders. You huffed out a shaky breath, disbelieving the way he was throwing his surly attitude towards you made you puff your cheeks in utter vexation; wanting nothing but to scream back at the witcher.

Jaskier has managed to saunter towards where Cirilla is, her eyes completely panic-stricken by Geralt's rage; watching between the both of you and seeming to want to step in between but it seems like there were also other issues as well that made you both angry at each other. Matters that should be truly said and not be kept on the inside.

"Ciri, come with me." the bard hushed, catching the princess by the arm and dragging her away till he brought her to the door way, around a hundred meters away from the pair as the both of you tried to withstand each other's glares.

She struggled against his hold, "But, Jaskier! It was my fault! It's not Y/N's fault. Why is she being scolded when I should be the one who must be? Geralt shouldn't be mad at her! What if he---"

"He won't hurt her physically, Princess. He never does. When did he ever hurt us no matter how irking we are? You know Geralt more than anyone in this world,"

Kolby was howling inside their home, his instincts knowing that there was something happening which added more noise to the argument you had with the butcher of Blaviken; shaking the night with your kept frustrations against each other.

"---He just knows how to ruin everything with his teetering, strong feelings. He isn't the best at expressing it but you know the lout knows how to care," he went on, trying to dispel her fears for the both of you, thinking that you would eventually hurt each other with heart-breaking words, "---He'll deal with it. Come on now,"

Jaskier ushered the princess to come inside. She was hesitant at first, giving you both glances before he pulled her in; giving you both the space that is needed. The bard knew that Geralt won't start talking in a sensible manner when they're around. He wouldn't try and open his heart with people hearing what he wanted to truly say.

Your eyes started to cloud, the sensitivity of yourself beginning to take over. One fact about you was that you didn't like people yelling like you were an idiot; as well as people who were mad at you for something you've done which adds more regret to the grief, "I know I'm useless. You didn't need to yell it out loud." you deadpanned, biting the insides of your lips; trying hard not to start sobbing because you've already felt the familiar tremble.

"---You know I would spare my life just for hers because she's a princess, Geralt." your voice got the best of you, quaking in a way that got the witcher knowing that you were in the midst of crying; but somehow reluctant to break down because of his doing, "---Is this how badly you want to kick me out of your house?"

You've blinked and try to ignore the warmth pooling around your eyes, never giving him the opportunity to see right through you before you've snapped your eyes back up to the witcher who had a grimace as he stared you down. The twinkle of your eyes that was an epitome of stars in the night was now loosing its gleam and it was because of him. He'd done something wrong again; like how he was used to. Mistakes that seem to go along with his name.

Geralt had his nose scrunched; having another set of his internal battles within himself as he watched you pour out your anger at him like he'd done to you. Sharing each other's frustration since the days prior that you weren't there for each other.

Your weeping at night. He'd knew. The witcher felt what you were feeling every damn night even though he wasn't with you and he didn't know why.

"I've had Ciri close to me! You know I wouldn't let her get hurt by anyone especially from the people of Nilfgaard!" Your raving was ceaseless; impulsively bringing out pasts you heard from Cirilla and Jaskier as they've tried to tell you important things that should be avoided or was evident of danger. They were the only ones who were openly alarming you about them and never the witcher.

"How did you know about that?" Geralt's scowl grew tighter, his question sounding like a vibrating snarl that warned you he was utterly vexed.

"Because your surprise child and Jaskier had the respect to tell me what's happening in this world you're in!"

You've felt yourself choking from the hysteria raging in your veins, angrily snapping at the witcher who also appeared to be in total dismay as his scowl turned into a frown; his gaze solely on you alone, never leaving your sight. Fists were tightened on either side of you, wanting to throw things out of madness for how rude he was when you remembered how he'd wanted to kiss you back at that certain day.

He was confusing you by how he was acting tonight which also left you enraged for his complicated hot and cold demeanor.

"I don't even know where I am! What this dimension is called! Nor do I know people! Who's bad or who's good! I don't know your map or any of your kingdom!"

"You don't need to know any of that!" because the more you knew about the continent, the more it can bring darkness to you. He'd thought that keeping some things within the family was better because he didn't want you to get involved by whatever problems they may bring.

The witcher wanted you to himself. He wants to protect you from any cruelty that the continent may offer because you were his little secret.

You were his midget. His.

You've roughly bit your lips, fighting the urge for the first tear to fall; howbeit, it was a traitor as you rolled your eyes and avoided his amber peepers searching through the emotions that you oh-so wanted to convey. But, all that was evident was disappointment, anger, sadness and grief because of expecting something that wasn't supposed to be expected from a monster-slayer.

Perhaps, hoping to see through what his good heart could offer was too delusional for you.

"---Don't worry, witcher. The princess comes first before I do. I know that and it should be as well. Thanks for making me come to my senses that I'm useless and a burden for you! I'll leave tomorrow morning so your baggage of having someone needed protecting would lessen on your shoulders," you kept a straight face, blankly looking away as inscrutable as possible; not giving him the benefit of seeing you mourning for the stab of your heart.

Mayhaps, wishing for the fondness to be reciprocated by a witcher was too much of a dream for you. Definitely too high to achieve nor hoped for.

Geralt deeply growled, his forehead creased like he was hurting. You've never seen the pain that spread through his face, letting the emotion he's been keeping to himself burst like he was showing vulnerability.

He didn't like it when you've deadpanned and called him a witcher. It sounded too cold and distant, like he was made to only be seen as a witcher to you, a stranger, a mutated human who slaughters beasts and nothing else.

"Don't call me that!" he snarled, invading the space you've had and your forehead was now in line with his massive chest. You peered up at him with the same ire pooling through your peepers, your gaze hostile as you spoke with thick sarcasm.

"Aren't you a witcher? What do you want me to call you, then? Your job description changed now?"

Geralt roughly breathed out of his nose, his broad shoulders going up and down as he was controlling those emotions that he had which always seemed to be stronger and uncontrollable. He narrowed his blazing amber eyes, genuinely staring into you as he kept his hands to himself; on either side of him. Wanting nothing but to grab onto your face and make you believe that he was earnest about not wanting to be called that when it came to you.

"Don't...Don't make it sound like I'm just a trifling matter to you,"

You scoffed out of the blue for his wishes that he suddenly seem to want, "But, aren't I also just a trifling matter to you, witcher? Or do you want to be called in full name? Geralt of Rivia? Is that your full name? Oh! Maybe, the butcher of Blaviken, then?"

The sound of you calling him witcher felt so distant because he knew that, for you; he was Geralt and not a witcher who people see him as a mutant who kills beasts. To you, he was more than human and less than a witcher. In your mind, he was Geralt. Only Geralt and nothing else because he was a man whom you see that had a good heart and hearing you call him with his monikers was shattering his stronghold.

"No!" he suddenly groaned out of the blue. You gave him the death stare, stepping a foot away from the man himself as his presence was too bewitching in the rage of fire that you both cast upon each other tonight, "What do you mean no?!"

"No," the witcher hoarsely repeated, snapping his head to the side as he gravelly spat out profanities out of those mouth that you've been dying to kiss.

"---Fuck! Don't."

You shook your head in utter disappointment. Your face in a baffling twist, "Are you a broken record or something? no? don't, what?"

He had his share of breaths; seeming to be straightening his thoughts before lowly muttering out his next words, his jaw still clenched as he turned his head to see those eyes waving the white flag like he was submitting and wanted all the anger to just vanish.

"Don't spare your life for anyone, midget." it was straight to the point, giving you what he wanted you to hear.

Yet, because of his unstable attitude; you've chose to weigh down the options as to what his words meant. Choosing the platonic sense of a thought before you even smash your heart into pieces by praying that he meant something more.

"But, she's a princess---"

"---Because you are also important,"

You could see the anger dissipating from his glowing eyes; shifting into such ire that also had a hint of dithering and abrupt acquiescence. Your heart skipped a beat when his words echoed inside your heated head.

'Because you are also important,' Howbeit, your assertion for the truth had you turning his words into the chaste part of options.

"Cirilla is more important than me, Geralt. She's your child of surprise. You know I would risk my life for her. No one would really care for my death anyway. I'm probably already dead for my family back in earth," you scorned, huffing out a breath that hitched when he started giving you the doubts again.

The witcher appeared to be more frustrated as time goes by, your denial making it all too difficult for him to explain, "I.....care!" he prolonged the simplicity in his words, his teeth showing as he gritted and deeply snarled, "I do care, midget. I care about you!"

"Ah." you impassively muttered, eyes vacant as there was a void hidden behind those peepers of yours, "---you mean that because I'm your responsibility. Noted." and a simple shrug of your shoulders was enough to draw a stressed-out growl from the man who kept your heart on the line, always.

"Fuck--no! Not that!"

A simple shake of your head and a chance to leave his presence was all it could take for Geralt to grab onto your wrists, surprising you to say the least. His hold on you was tight, never letting go as you tried and uselessly battled with his strength.

You skeptically sent him a sharp look as he appeared to be groaning out deep within those sturdy chest of his that was still clothed in armor, "Let go, Geralt. I swear to God, if you don't let go and use magic or your Harry Potter slash witcher styled---Wingardium Levi-O-sa on me---!"

"You know I will never do that!" he fumed, his expressions telling you that he was offended by even thinking he would hurt you in any way, disregarding your modern references that he simply couldn't understand. Therefore, Geralt carried on with his kept feelings and raved.

"You...You are important to me! I care because you're you..."

You've exhaled a huff of frustration, never believing his words that was always been said whenever he was caught up in a moment.

"You're speaking in riddles that I couldn't comprehend, my lord." a mock of his accent made you done for. The deathless struggle you've tried to escape in his hold; both hands prying him away but he was utterly stronger than you imagined him to be.

You were utmost naive that it was making him want to just kiss you hard for you to understand his feelings.

The witcher breathed fire. Features thoroughly livid for your naivity and denial, "You're too fucking blind and too naive!" he barked, completely infuriated for your nonsense.

You loudly whined as you tried wrenching his hand away. It was better to escape his presence because you could sense that the more you stayed, the more you would forgive this man in a heartbeat with his words that seem to confuse you.

It took one more struggle and a stumble of your own foot for how forcibly you were trying to get away his hold that Geralt swiftly hung that arm he holds; slipping it around his broad shoulders, catching you completely off-guard as he leaned down entirely to your height; your eyes bulging out of your eye sockets for his surprising gesture.

"Witcher---!!!"

However, those flamed words were forgotten as you've felt those pillowy, succulent lips of his fall onto yours in a feathery touch that got your insides growing wild.

Your eyes were all open, soul flying out of its chambers when you've felt his warm lips falling in between yours. A fluttering connection of both bodies that got your body turning rigid before he'd tried to snap you out of your shock and softly kissed tips of your lower lip, his fingers gently grabbing onto the side of your face; thumb falling into the tip of your chin to chide you into kissing him back.

He hoped he wasn't just imagining things; thoroughly thinking that what he felt about you can somehow also be reciprocated and that it wasn't just him.

You've eventually given a satisfied sigh and fluttered your eyes closed, entirely giving into what your heart desires; molding your vermillion to his with a soft pucker of your lips and your other hand falling onto the side of his chiseled face that got a low grumble of his chest out of him from the tender touch of your fingers he'd anticipated to feel.

You were finally kissing Geralt and your heart seemed to be flying out of its cage.

The kiss was how you imagined it to be. Soft and candied like a precised choreography dance that was satisfying for both of your beings; yet aching for more. Your breath hitched when you've felt the tip of his luscious tongue caress your lips in a way that got the warmth pooling in your stomach turn wild.

You've snapped your eyes open and broke the kiss before it escalated further; hardly pulling away with a faint smooch that got you wanting another.

It was definitely difficult to believe. Before the witcher could even flutter his eyes open, you've timidly puckered; your face boiling in such a high temperature as you reach for his lips, planting another chaste kiss that got Geralt in a small beam that you were blinded with; finding your actions adorable as if you were timid of kissing him.

So, it was real. You've kissed him again and he let you. The feelings were actually true.

He was met with those ingenuous flicker inside your eyes as you stared back at him, a sheepish smile and a coy twinkle of your eyes got him sighing; breathing in your delectable scent and never believing you actually felt the same way, "I am...done leaving people," Geralt breathed through his nose, whispering sweet and soft nothings that got your heart twerking inside your chest.

The latter tenderly leaned his forehead against yours; eyelids shut closed as he deeply murmured. The anger simmering out of the way once he'd gotten to kiss those lips that he wanted to have a taste since the day he'd felt something for you, "---Nor am I done being left by people who are important to me,"

You felt his gentle fingers graze your chin, the dimples of his nose tickling yours; urging for just another harmless kiss that tells you it all isn't a dream you've forged to create.

"Forgive me," he gravelly whispered, hearing your thoughts as to how you wanted to be kissed; though, it was just Geralt and his self that couldn't get enough of you.

The witcher planted another uncluttered kiss to the tips of your vermillion, catching your breath away as you blinked repeatedly to get a hold of yourself when he'd pulled away with a mischievous grin, "I...didn't mean to yell,"

You've bit your lips; trying to fight yourself from squealing hard at what just happened, feeling your toes tickling your bashful heart. You took a glimpse of those amber eyes that held a roguish gaze to it, "You're...You're mean!" was all you managed to say, eyes downcast and your nose scrunched from being utterly cringe; feeling his soft lips still lingering.

Oh dear, you weren't going to sleep without squealing for the next couple of hours.

"I know," his dashing face was filled of remorse. You've given him a blink of surprise, astounded by his sheer admission towards being a big meanie for yelling at you.

A soft narrow of your eyes was the only thing he'd receive and he did the same way, his amber eyes bright and free from pique as he cocked his head to the side, a dubious impression from how you were still giving him that hostile but shy gaze of yours.

"You're still mad," the ivory-haired witcher straightened his back as he stated as a matter of fact with that rough baritone timbre of his voice. You ungracefully cleared your throat for the second time; his gaze heavy on you and it was making your heart turn wild.

"And the night is dark, Geralt." was enough for Geralt of Rivia to trail behind you like a guilty puppy as you hurriedly jogged back to their house; your nose scrunched to the extent as you delicately held onto your lips in which the witcher has kissed; your face burning from the blush that wanted you squealing out loud.

"---Utterly mad." he scoffed to himself as he groaned in regret, rolling his eyes from how you were brushing him aside.

Geralt tailed behind with a frown on his face, "Forgive me, midget." he repeated in a stern but clearer tone, utterly bothered by how you were disregarding him after all he confessed.

The door to their house were sprightly shut closed when Jaskier and Cirilla left the hatch ajar. It was Jaskier's idea to eavesdrop over the both of you and much to say, he'd already awaited for this moment to happen because of the tension that seemed palpable by everyone who surrounded you both.

"That's character development right out there, Cirilla." the bard peeked out of the small opening, watching how Geralt has leaned down to give you the kiss that was bound to happen.

Cirilla moved away from the doorway, an incredulous haze of her eyes as she had her hands on her hips, "I thought Geralt didn't know romance, Bard?"

Jaskier didn't back down from her sassy gestures and also did the same as he began to reason out, standing away from the door way when he'd heard Geralt asking you for forgiveness. The princess of Cintra has a smug look on her face, teasing the bard, "Some people improve when it's been a long time since his heartbreak---Stop judging me like that!"

He'd seen you walk back to the house, a fathomless cringe carving your features which looked like you were constipated as the witcher jogged up from behind, calling you out in the middle of the night. Jaskier was quick to shut the door closed for the second time, hauling an arm around Cirilla as he pulled her wrists till she was crouching with the bard and Kolby, acting like they were playing Knucklebones and not snooping over you and Geralt, "---Also, act like you didn't see them kiss!"

Y’ALL ARE PROLLY WAITING FOR CHAPTER 14 AND 15 NOW. 😂😂 (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, bb. Please do check your settings. 🥰 Thank you!)

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthorr @carrieannewaywardson

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tiffdawg · 4 years

Text

The Light of Stars | Chapter Nine: Curiosity

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (no y/n)

Word Count: 8.5k

Rating: M | Warnings: Rating change for some snuggling, just to be safe and, if it wasn’t already clear, one (1) touch-starved Mandalorian. But really, hurt/comfort and angsty pining is all we know. Mild language.

Story Summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

A/N: So… I always intended for this story to be rated-T through the end to try and match the overall tone/content of star wars... but uh, these two, am I right? I’m just going where the story takes me. Big shout out to @leo-moon for this stunning edit. Like, I seriously can’t stop looking at it. Thank you so much Leo!! And, as always, thank you so, so so, much for reading. When I say that your comments and kudos and support keeps me going, I really mean it. I love and appreciate you all so much!

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Nine: Curiosity

When you woke the next morning, a soft cooing sound pulling you out of your deep slumber, you found yourself still curled into Mando’s side, his strong arm heavy around your shoulders. Beneath you, he was warm and solid, and you could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat in his chest as you rested against him. That steady sound never failed to ground you.

As you drifted into consciousness, you thought about how the normally stoic Mandalorian had surprised you with his forwardness when he asked to hold you. You knew he was capable of being gentle, but aside from his recent tendency to reach for your hand, that tenderness had never been directed at you in such a way. To share a bed, to hold someone through the long, dark night, felt like a sacred act. Intimate in its innocence. Other’s had warmed your bed – or rather your temporary bunks at various Rebel bases back when you’d scorned the way of the Jedi – but spending the night with a Mandalorian, especially that Mandalorian, was something else entirely. And it crossed some unspoken line between friendship and something you shouldn’t have dared to associate with the man next to you.

Although you knew reading into his actions would only make things worse for you, you couldn’t tame the spark of hope it ignited. He’d become your closest friend and confident, but you wondered if he didn’t feel something toward you. And so, the rational part of your brain couldn’t stop your heart from saying yes to him, to inviting him into your bed. You wanted to be close to Mando, always, but never more so than after you opened up to him about your vision. He’d been so kind and understanding. His empathy had poured through the cold armored exterior and washed over you, and you wanted to wade in that feeling for as long as possible. A selfish, foolish part of you just wanted him to hold you and never let go.

Knowing that moment was a gift, something stolen that wouldn’t last, you tried to commit to memory the feel of his body against yours while you had the chance.

At the sound of a happy trill, your eyes fluttered open slowly. The Child, now wide awake, sat upright on Mando’s chest, gurgling happily with a toothy grin every time Mando tickled him, poking playfully at the baby’s belly. You felt Mando’s short, breathy, modulated laughs beneath you rather than hearing them aloud. His affection for his foundling was endlessly endearing. You watched their little game quietly, loath to disrupt their fun.

You realized Mando must’ve moved at some point because the lights were on the lowest setting and a quick glance upwards showed you that while he was still missing the rest of his armor, his helmet had been replaced. The only thing that mattered was that he’d returned to you. Unlike last time when he’d slipped his hand out of your grasp and left you, he’d come back. And this was so much better. For whatever reason, he wanted to lie with you and hold you close for as long as possible. The pleasant feeling that realization sent through your system warmed your cheeks and pulled a lazy smile across your lips.

When the baby finally caught his hand, grabbing onto his index finger with six claws, he held it tightly as he looked up at his father with shining eyes full of adoration.

“Your son loves you,” you said, quietly voicing the thought as it passed through your mind. Mando’s visor tilted towards you, only just noticing that you were awake. He made an uncertain noise and turned his attention back to the little one. His body suddenly felt tense beneath yours. You repositioned yourself so that you could look at him properly, holding yourself up with a bent elbow. “You must believe that, don’t you?” you inquired pointedly.

The vocoder emitted a soft crackling sound, nothing more than static, and you imagined he was struggling to find the right words. It was one of those moments when language seemed to fail him. Before he could form some sort of response, the baby drew both of your gazes away from each other as he attempted to scale down the side of the bed, unwittingly relieving the tension that had settled between you. Mando pried him off the bunk, parting from you as he sat up to set the Child on the floor.

The kid waddled to the pile of new playthings he’d collected in the short time at the base, and Mando shook his head at the sight. “We’ve only been here two days,” he muttered.

“He’s quite popular,” you quipped.

“Raising a foundling is communal,” he informed you. “But they’re going to spoil him at this rate.”

“I’d say he deserves it,” you responded, laughing softly as the baby tossed around a geometric puzzle toy one of the older children passed on to him. He’d successfully solved it once, but, apparently, he was over that. Mando nodded his agreement before looking back to you, watching you quietly as he was prone to do. You knew you must’ve been quite the sight first thing in the morning, even if you’d had your best night’s sleep in years.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

You hummed a little as you considered his question. “Not yet, which is quite surprising for me.” He huffed at that but said nothing else. Just when you thought he was going to move to get up for the day, he reclined once more. At the low groaning sound he made as he settled, you instinctively soothed a hand over his side. “How’s your injury healing?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted as he shifted stiffly, seeking a more comfortable position, “Some aches are just age. But I’d feel better if– If you’d come here.”

Failing to fight the grin breaking out across your face, you returned to your place next to him. “Is that better?” you asked playfully. His only answer was the slightest squeeze of your shoulders. The two of you watched the baby play, moving from one toy to the next in rapid succession.

“You said he healed a mortal injury once,” you started, thinking out loud as you idly ran your hand over Mando’s injured side, “Is that why you pushed us away the other day?”

“Yes,” he answered, “He was weak after. I couldn’t let him do that again.”

“Wow,” you said excitedly. You propped yourself up so that you could look at him again. “Theoretically, I thought that might be possible, but I never knew of anyone who did it. That’s absolutely fascinating.” Your ramblings trailed off, as you lost yourself in your own mind for a moment, recalling some old text that you’d read years ago. “He’s such an impressive kid. And he really would do anything for you.”

“It wasn’t me he healed. It was an associate of mine.”

“Associate? Do you mean friend, Mando?”

“Maybe now. He wasn’t at the time.” He paused for a breath, visor trained on the baby. “I didn’t have friends until recently.”

“I would have never guessed,” you teased lightly. The helmet rolled sideways to catch your gaze. You could read his annoyance in that once simple movement, and you had to stifle a laugh. “All I mean to say is that you have a lot of armor protecting you. More than the Beskar,” you explained. “Personally, I really like the man underneath.”

He placed a hand over yours where it rested on his stomach and the two of you fell into another long silence at your words. But even as he was perfectly still, unmoving save for the rise and fall of his chest, you felt his eyes watching you, roaming your face. “You see me,” he said softly, a hint of something akin to disbelief in his voice, “More than anyone.”

If he was anyone else, you would’ve kissed him then. It wasn’t the first time you were overwhelmed with that exact desire. Instead, you brought his hand to your lips, hoping the chaste brush of your mouth against his skin would mean something to him. His hand gripped yours impossibly tighter, flinching at your touch.

“I’m sorry–”

“Stop apologizing for that,” he said, his voice resounding from deep in his chest, “It’s not you.” He left your grasp only to place his hand against your cheek, letting the pad of his thumb tentatively trace the curve of your mouth, lightly kissing your lips.

“Are there any other exceptions?” you asked, remembering your conversation from the night before. “Besides your foundling?” Mando’s hand fell away from your face, but before you could mourn the loss of his touch, he twined his fingers with yours, squeezing slightly.

“Are you trying to find a loophole, cyar’ika?” There was something light about his tone, but you still felt like you were asking something you didn’t have the right to ask.

“No,” you insisted, shaking your head. “I just–” Unable to look him in the visor, your eyes flicked across his chest, from one shoulder to the other. “I wonder sometimes, that’s all.”

“You’re not missing much.”

His comment drew your gaze back to his helmet and you narrowed your eyes at him. “I don’t believe that for a second, Mando. I don’t have to see you without your helmet to know that you’re beautiful.”

Mando was quiet for a drawn-out moment, practically motionless. You fidgeted under his stare, chewing on your bottom lip as you started to regret the words that had slipped out without your permission. You believed every word you said, but it was not something you’d intended to voice.

“My wife,” he answered finally, “If she swore the creed.”

“Your wife will be a Mandalorian,” you stated, thinking more out loud to yourself than asking a question. The exception made sense – of course his family should be able to see him – but it still stung in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, his grip on you tightening, “I won’t marry.” You weren’t sure why, but it sounded strangely like a promise.

“I meant what I said before. You are loved. By your son, by–” You caught yourself, knowing you’d already said more than you should’ve. “You deserve to be loved, always. You deserve to be happy, Mando. I– I want that for you.”

His helmet was as expressionless as ever as he regarded you. You weren’t sure where the need to make him believe you stemmed from, but, in that moment, it felt like the most important thing in the galaxy. If you were going to leave him in a few short days, the least you could do was ensure that he would have a fulfilling life. You couldn’t look into his future, but you wanted whatever would make him happy. That mattered to you more than it probably should have.

When he finally spoke, it nearly broke what was left of your heart.

“I want that for you, too,” he said softly.

You felt your chest hollow as you lost your breath. You already knew that sort of happiness would escape you. No matter how much you wanted that life with him. Once again, it had been so easy for your playful banter to evolve into a more meaningful exchange – something that you couldn’t afford to indulge in. Needing to put some distance between the two of you, you sat up and tucked your legs under you, shifting away as you tried to remember how to breathe. “We should, um, get up. And start work on the ship so we can get to Lah’mu as quickly as possible,” you suggested, not truly meaning a word of it.

“Yeah,” he agreed, swinging his legs off the bed as he righted himself. Just before he made to stand, he looked back at you as if he wanted to say something. Apparently, he thought better of it, and the rare, slow morning in bed came to an end.

Deciding the best course of action would be to enjoy the last of your time with Mando and the Child, you pushed your heartbreak aside. With the morning’s conversation out of your mind, you spent half of the day with them both in the bunker’s large underground docking bay watching him work on the Razor Crest, helping where you could despite his insistence that you weren’t needed and could relax. Admittedly, you really didn’t know much about fixing starships.

Still, you sighed dramatically at Mando as he discussed how to maneuver a particularly heavy engine part up to the left wing with two other Mandalorians. Normally you weren’t so cavalier about using the Force around strangers, but you’d shared more of your skill with others in the past couple days at the base than you had with practically anyone else in your entire life. You’d always kept yourself a secret, but the Mandalorians knew who you were, and you felt safe with them. So, without even thinking about it, you silenced their conversation by using the Force to lift the massive engine for them with minimal effort.

“Show off,” Mando muttered as he walked by you.

“Learn to ask for help, Mando,” you retorted.

Later, you were playing with the kid, both of you having tired of the work going on around you, when Mando called down to you.

“Jetii!” he teased. It never held the same reverence as when the others said it. “Help me out and pass the carbon chisel,” he requested, waving a gloved hand at you.

With a retort on the tip of your tongue, you smirked up at him where he stood on the ship’s wing. However, the Child beat you to it. He speedily floated the exact tool Mando needed up to him. Only, he put a little too much force into it and the heavy metal chisel flew through the air, hitting Mando square in the helmet and knocking him back a few steps.

You gasped, watching with wide eyes as Mando staggered on the edge of the wing, but quickly righted him with a wave of your hand. When you were certain that he was safe, unbridled, slightly hysterical laughter burst from within you and you fell into a fit of giggles at the close call. As did everyone else in the hanger. Even the baby found his father’s near-fall funny. Mando stared down at the two of you unamused. You couldn’t stop laughing and the sight of him with his hands on his hips only made it worse.

When you finally wiped the tears from your eyes, you noticed the slight shake of his shoulders. He was laughing too. You imagined him smiling again, and your heart fluttered in your chest at the thought.

When the docking bay’s mirth finally subsided, you scooped the kid up, deciding he needed to expel some of his energy playing with the other children rather than causing undue bodily harm to his own father.

… . …

If Din thought traveling with you and the kid was making him soft, it was nothing compared to seeing the two of you among his tribe. He was still amazed at the way his people accepted the both of you. He was even more impressed at your ease around the Mandalorians. Though he supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him – not only had you been shockingly respectful of his culture since the day he met you, but you seemed to make friends everywhere you went.

Sometime after midday, he’d snuck away from the Crest in search of something to eat and instead found you at the center of attention in the main hall. A couple dozen younglings, including his own little foundling, surrounded you. That accounted for almost every child between the different tribes. Nearly as many adults listened to you speak from further away. Everyone seemed to hang on your every word as you told the children a story from your Rebellion days. It appeared he walked in at the end of your tale.

“And then the Imperial Star Destroyer exploded!” you announced dramatically with a sweeping wave of your hands. A chorus of excited exclamations rang out around you. And then question after question was thrown your way.

“How did you escape?”

“What did the Imps do next?”

“Which explosives did the Rebels prefer?”

Strategy and weapons appeared to be their biggest concerns. They were Mandalorian children, after all. And you answered each question with ease and a smile, encouraging their curiosities.

Din realized then that one day that would be your life. You’d seen yourself training young Jedi in your vision and he imagined it would look much like the scene before him. And you would excel at it. Of that he had no doubt.

But he couldn’t bring himself to be happy about it. He remembered what you said about that future. I was sad. I could see it in myself. Even surrounded by all those students, I was alone. He could still hear the shake in your voice as you held back your tears. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to want that future for you.

Of course, if he was being honest, he wasn’t particularly fond of either possible future.

He returned to the docking bay having forgotten why he left his work in the first place.

Hours later, as Din made his way through the underground maze of corridors, that scene of you surrounded by the children replayed in his mind. He despised everything about the situation you found yourself. Hated how impossible it proved to ignore his feelings for you. Couldn’t believe that it made him a sentimental, pensive man, completely lost in his thoughts when there were pressing matters to attend to.

And yet, he continued to struggle to reconcile your future, one that appeared to be perfect for you, with the knowledge that you were also destined to be alone. As was he. But as much as he wanted to be with you, he knew the two of you couldn’t stay together. You had a path you were determined to follow, and he couldn’t ask you to give up your code. Not to be with a man you could never truly know. You would never expect him to abandon his creed. He couldn’t give you something like what you say in your second vision – no matter how appealing – without breaking his oath.

It was a problem with no solution.

But he had an idea. A simple, indulgent idea that wouldn’t fix a damn thing but might offer you the smallest hint of comfort over the years. And if that was all he could do for you, then he would.

When he heard the familiar sound of fires of a forge and tools shaping steel, he realized he’d reached his destination. He moved into the armory quietly, but his alor noticed him even with her back turned. Nothing ever escaped her.

“I expected you would come around,” she intoned as she inspected her current project. It looked to be a pair of durasteel cuisses. She held both pieces in front of her visor, turning them in sync as she compared the two. “I must say, your Jedi proved impressive.”

“Vizsla deserved it,” he retorted.

“That is probably true. He usually does. But it is not what I spoke of.” Dissatisfied with her work, she returned to her anvil and continued shaping one of the pieces, molding it with each solid strike of her hammer. He waited patiently for her to continue, knowing she would only speak again in her own time. When she finished her task, setting her tools and the matching thigh plates on her worktop, she finally turned to him. “She has the spirit of a warrior, but the temperament of a leader.”

“Yes, she does,” he agreed. Something akin to pride swelled within him.

“And she is an excellent teacher. Everyone is taken with her. Especially the younglings,” she assessed correctly. Din offered a curt nod of agreement. “As are you,” she stated simply, looking at him for some sort of an answer. He couldn’t offer her one. Couldn’t even try to deny it. “You want something, Din Djarin. What is it?”

Din would never understand how the armorer, for all of her skill and wisdom, always seemed to know everything. He demagnetized his cuirass, setting it gently on her worktop. “I have a request.”

“The nexu scratch?” she asked, running a gloved finger over it, “That should come out easily enough. You could’ve done it yourself.”

“No,” he corrected quickly, “No, I’d like to leave that.”

“The mark of a battle won.”

“Yes.” The mark of a battle won together, he thought to himself.

“Something else then?” his alor prompted.

He swallowed hard, summoning up more courage than should’ve been necessary to ask for something so simple. “Yes.”

… . …

It was late in the day, well past the evening meal. That night it was a deliciously spicy stew that nearly had you in tears. However, there was something about their predilection for spicy flavors that seemed to fit the Mandalorians, and it only further endeared you to their culture. They were a unique people, but you found that you enjoyed them immensely. They were warriors with unmatched spirit. Although you could feel the palpable mark of generations worth of loss – something that weighed heavy on them all – they carried on with a fierce resolution that you admired.

At that hour, the base was quiet as most had turned in long ago, but a few of your shadows had returned to you. Four little girls, all probably no older than eleven, had knocked on the door to your quarters, politely asking for you and the Child. Even as tired as you were, you didn’t have it in your heart to deny them.

Which was how you ended up back in the main hall, now strangely peaceful as the usual crowd had disappeared into their quarters for the evening save for a few stragglers continuing their work and, as always, several more who remained on guard.

One of the girls, Syana, sat next to you, closely inspecting your hand and asking question after questions as to how you were able to channel the Force. She was definitely the oldest of the bunch, and relentlessly inquisitive. It was something you noticed the first day you met the young girl and you admired her for it. Two of the others, Mai-Sen and Ename, sisters only in that they were found together, played with the baby. They’d made up a game just for him, but, despite their best efforts to explain it, you still didn’t quite understand the rules. But they seemed to enjoy it and the kid was more than entertained.

Perched on your knee was the smallest and youngest of the group by several inches and a few years. She was a soft-spoken girl with a mauve-colored helm. Unlike the others, she was from Mando’s tribe and did not give her name. She had taken to exploring your features, caressing your face with her slender fingers. At first, her actions had confused you, but you reasoned that she was probably unused to seeing someone bare their face, and so you didn’t try to stop her. Even the four girls, as young as they were, each wore a traditional helmet. You couldn’t help but think they seemed too young for something like that. Of course, you realized, silently chastising yourself, you’d started your own training around the same age. That was hardly different.

The pad of her finger traced a circle following the arc of your brow and the bone of your cheek and she whispered to you. “Mesh’la,” she said softly.

“What?” you asked, perking up at the word. You’d heard it once before. The day you showed Mando your lightsaber. “What does that mean?”

“Beautiful,” she explained.

“Oh,” you gasped, your mind spinning at the translation. Of course, he’d probably been talking about the saber. He had to have been. He was a Mandalorian; his weapons were practically part of him. Still, you dared to ask your next question despite your better judgement. “What does cyar’ika mean?”

All four little girls giggled at you.

“You’re saying it wrong!” Ename called to you from where she sat with the baby.

“It’s not sah-ree-kah,” Mai explained cheekily, “It’s shar-ee-kah.”

“Of course. Forgive me,” you said hastily, “But what does it mean?”

“Sweetheart,” the littlest one said quietly. It felt like a punch to the gut, like all the air had been forced from your lungs and you couldn’t draw in a breath.

“No, it means beloved,” Ename corrected.

“That’s the same thing,” Syana placated.

The girls’ bickering fell away as you processed the meaning of the diminutive. Some part of you suspected Mando used his new name for you purposely, but you hadn’t imagined it could mean something like that.

Ename shook your shoulder, drawing you from deep within your own mind, and practically scolded you. “Mando’a is a special language. You’re only supposed to use words like those if you really mean them. That’s what my mother taught me.”

“That’s what my buir said too,” Syana agreed, looking up at you from her place next to you. Somehow that only made things worse. You finally realized why he was so hesitant to translate Mando’a for you. Because that one word meant that he felt something for you, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Who knew what else Mando and the others had been saying?

“Kayden called me mesh’la once,” Mai informed the group from where she sat with the kid. That was promptly followed by a few disgusted noises. You’d met Kayden; he was a rather typical boy for their age. It was enough to make you laugh even as your heart was crumbling in your chest and your stomach twisted itself into knots.

“Jetii, Jetii,” the little one in your lap said, tugging on the collar of your tunic, “Does Beroya call you that?”

“Beroya?”

“You really need to learn Mando’a if you’re going to stay with us!” Ename demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The bounty hunter!” Syana explained, “Does he call you cyar’ika?”

Your crowd fell silent as they anxiously awaited your answer. Four T-shaped visors and a pair of large, dark eyes stared at you. You forced the word out. “Yes.”

Their excited, modulated gasps resounded throughout the hall.

After setting the Child gently on your bunk, you all but collapsed onto the bed next to him. A long-withheld, frustrated groan tore from your lips, muffled by your pillow.

The idea of Mando not returning your affections had been comforting. Even as his actions suggested otherwise, you clung to it to ease your own pain. While you weren’t normally one to take the advice of children on matters of the heart, according to them, the bounty hunter was in love with you. They’d stressed that fact. Repeatedly. And, much to your dismay, you were inclined to believe them.

He called you cyar’ika. On several occasions. Once, for the very first time, as he consoled you after your visit to the temple. Another time after he’d narrowly escaped death. When he held you in that very bed. And then half a dozen times more. Each moment was seared into your memory.

If it was as special a word as the girls said it was, you knew he wouldn’t use it if he didn’t feel something toward you. Not when he was as dedicated to his people and culture as he was. Mando always acted and spoke with purpose; he never did anything lightly. Which meant your fondness for him, the love you were trying so desperately to quell, was reciprocated.

And it made sense. Why else would he hold you at night? Share his secrets and memories with you? Wipe the tears from your eyes? You’d done everything you could to ignore the signs, but that was a hopeless endeavor.

A tiny hand resting against your shoulder drew you from your thoughts, and you turned your head to see the baby looking at you with a worried expression, his pointed ears turned downwards.

“I’m so sorry, little one,” you sat up and held him in your arms, “You don’t need to worry about me like you do. I’m just– I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Being dramatic, perhaps?”

He made a cooing noise you took as his agreement. “You think so too?” you asked, tweaking his nose. His ears perked up and you smiled at him.

“How about we meditate together for a bit? That usually puts you right to sleep when it's late.” And it typically helped you when you felt overwhelmed. At the moment, it felt like your entire universe was collapsing in on itself like a black hole. You set the Child in front of you and let your eyes fall shut as you tried to center yourself. A few minutes later, you heard a soft snoring sound, and when you opened your eyes just enough to peak at him, you found him fast asleep against your pillow. “That’s what I thought,” you whispered to yourself.

You returned to your practice, focusing on steadying your breathing and uncoiling the tension in your shoulders. As you cleared your mind, reaching out toward the Force that surrounded you, you felt a familiar pull. Something you’d only felt once on Nar Shaddaa.

Curious, you moved towards one of the unused bunks where your belongings sat in a cluttered heap. Whatever was calling you, was inside your own satchel. You dug around for a moment before pulling out the old, broken datacron. It looked the same as the day you’d bought it, except for the unnerving fact that it glowed bright blue.

Acting on pure instinct and the slightest bit of hope, you placed the cube in the center of the room and knelt before it. You resumed your meditation, focusing intently on the object before you, seeking out it’s unique signature through the Force. Your eyes shot open at the faint clicking sound of the cube’s corners turning. The soft blue light of a holo filled the room.

It wasn’t a piece of junk after all.

… . …

“Mando!”

You skidded to a halt in front of him, nearly crashing into him as he exited the armory. Din placed a hand on either of your shoulders in an attempt to steady you as you caught your breath. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“What’s wrong? Where’s the kid?” he inquired.

“He’s fine! Everything’s fine. But you’re never going to believe–” You stopped short, head tilting adorably to the side as you looked over him. Or at least he found it adorable until he realized what you were looking at. “Why do you look crooked?”

You were probably the only person in the whole kriffing galaxy that would notice something so small. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said hoarsely.

“Your chestplate doesn’t look right” you reached out as if to adjust it, “You always look perfect.”

“Your mind is playing tricks on you, Jedi,” Din deflected, ignoring the hint of a compliment.

“Very funny, Mandalorian,” you teased even as your eyes lingered on his cuirass. “Which reminds me – come on!” You grabbed his hand and sped down the long hallway toward the barracks.

“Do you remember that old datacron I picked up on Nar Shaddaa?” you asked as you pulled him into the bunkroom. There was a nervous excitement about you he hadn’t seen before.

“Sure,” he answered, glancing between you and the baby sleeping on your bunk. The kid didn’t seem to mind the sudden intrusion.

“Well, it’s not just some datacron,” you started, producing the object from your bag, now glowing bright blue in your hands. “This is a Jedi holocron,” you announced with a bright expression. “It’s probably from the old temple on Coruscant! That’s where the archives used to be, until the Empire destroyed every holocron they could get their hands on.”

“What was this doing in a junk shop on Nar Shaddaa?”

“I can only imagine. But these are extremely rare,” you said, gently placing the holocron in his hand. He inspected the Jedi artifact, tracing the golden edges with a gloved finger. “I haven’t even told you the best part yet,” you added, failing to repress your smile.

“What’s the best part?” he asked, playing along.

“This holocron–” the grin you’d been fighting broke out across your face, “–Is dedicated to the Jedi’s history with the Mandalorians.”

“Really?” Din questioned, not bothering to hide the excitement in his voice. He couldn’t believe that this palm-sized device, something he’d initially dismissed when you’d showed it to him, might hold answers to his questions about the Jedi. “Have you read any of it?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for my favorite Mandalorian,” you said coyly, a bright glint in your eyes.

“I’m here now,” he teased, “Open it.”

A few hours later, the two of you were still sitting on the floor of your shared room, backs against the bunk where the baby slept, sorting through the hundreds of files stored on the holocron. With each new piece of history revealed to you, your excitement had faded until you were slumped against the bunk, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

“Our people have fought each other across the galaxy for millennia,” you concluded, “And they absolutely, unequivocally hate each other.”

“You might be right,” Din conceded reluctantly. His alor had once called the Jedi enemy sorcerers. But the extent to which that was true had surprised even him.

“I mean look at this,” you continued, ignoring his agreement. With a wave of your hand you recalled the files on the Mandalorian-Jedi War you’d read over earlier. “The Jedi destroyed your people’s homeworld. Mandalore is basically uninhabitable because of what they did. And, if that’s not bad enough, because of that war, everything that you wear is specifically made to combat the Jedi. The Beskar, the jetpack, your weapons, your vambraces, your helmet…” you trailed off as your eyes scanned over each piece of his armor, “It was all created to protect you from someone like me.”

He would’ve liked to refute you, but you were right. According to everything the two of you had read so far, the Jedi and Mandalorians were enemies even at the best of times. Learning that the Jedi were responsible for the destruction of Mandalore was a particularly brutal blow. As was discovering that the very beskar’gam he wore was designed to compensate for and overcome the abilities of a Jedi. Your abilities. It was clearly detailed right there in the text with accompanying schematics. Apparently, that fact upset you as much as it unsettled him.

And yet you were still the first person to get past his armor. And you hadn’t even needed your powers to do so.

“How does everyone here not hate me?” you sighed, as lost in your own thoughts as he was in his, “How do you not hate me?”

“I could never hate you,” he stated, “And I doubt most people here know about half of this stuff. Hell, I didn’t know about the Jedi or the Force until I met the kid. There’s– There’s got to be something good in here.”

You banished the file with a flick of your wrist and brought up a new piece of history. You repeated the action several times, switching between documents when you came across something that frustrated you. “Would you like to read about the best ways for a Jedi to strike down a Mandalorian in close combat?” you muttered as you disappeared that file as well, “Or maybe about the Jedi’s proposal to banish Mandalorians to Wild Space a few hundred years ago? I’m sure that’s a lovely read.

He had to admit that none of that sounded particularly helpful. When Din said nothing, you continued your rapid-fire scan of the holofiles. Just as he was about to give up hope, you gasped and sat straight up.

“Look!” you said excitedly, “There was a Mandalorian inducted into the Jedi Order. That means they didn’t always hate each other. Although,” you added, your face falling as you read more, “That was a thousand years ago.”

“It’s something,” he quipped. A small smile broke the sad expression that had marred your features only a moment ago. “Tell me more.”

“Well, it looks like Tarre Vizsla joined the Order,” you said as you quickly scanned the text. Din rolled his eyes behind his visor. Of course, it was a Vizsla. “He later broke away from the Jedi and became the Mand’alor.”

You turned to him and he answered your question before you could ask it. “The sole ruler of the Mandalorians.”

“Oh, interesting. You had a Jedi ruling your people at one point, Mando” you said, elbowing him playfully in the soft padding covering his side.

“Former Jedi,” Din corrected, earning an exasperated look from you. “Keep reading. Please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” you retorted before returning to the holo. “As the first Mandalorian Jedi, Tarre Vizsla crafted a unique weapon called the darksaber. It says here that after his death the Jedi kept the blade until Clan Vizsla stole it from the Temple.” You scoffed at that. “Why do I get the sense that it was really the other way around? Either way, it became an important unifying symbol for all Mandalorians. That’s absolutely fascinating.”

Before he could say anything, the holo shifted and the text was replaced by an image of a lightsaber not unlike your own save for the angular black blade. When you were quiet for a beat too long, Din glanced over and found you staring at the image with wide, unblinking eyes, your former excitement replaced with something that looked more like fear.

“Cyar’ika?” he prompted, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“I’ve seen this…” The light in your eyes dimmed as you stared off in the distance past the holo, looking at something Din couldn’t see.

“In your vision,” he finished for you.

“Yes.”

While he was afraid that he would be right again, he ventured another guess anyway. “The second one?”

“The man I was fighting wielded this exact weapon.”

He looked at the lightsaber again. “A Mandalorian?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t get a good look at him, but it was definitely this saber. There must only be one like it.” You turned to look at him, concern written all over your face. “But what does that mean?”

“I– I don’t know,” he offered lamely, frustrated at himself for not having anything more to add than that.

“Shit,” you cursed, completely unlike you, “Gods, somehow these visions keep getting worse.”

“But you’re not choosing that future, so it shouldn’t matter,” he reasoned.

“Well– I suppose that’s true.” You seemed to shrink in on yourself at the concession.

As much as you insisted that you’d made your decision, Din remained unconvinced. Your future weighed heavy on you. And he wanted nothing more than to make those worries go away. Wished he could take those visions from you so you wouldn’t feel all of the pain and anguish they’ve caused anymore. His grip on your shoulder tightened just enough to draw your attention back to him. You set a hand over his, absentmindedly tracing the raised lines of the blue triangle on his handguard. He watched your repetitive movement, mesmerized by the touch couldn’t feel, and his next words tumbled out uninhibited. “Are you sure you don’t want that other future?”

“Of course I do,” you said quietly, “But not with– And not if it means giving up on the Jedi. I know that this doesn’t cast them in the best of light,” you said, waving toward the holocron, “But the Jedi have always been a beacon of hope for people. And after what happened to them…” You faced him again, and he watched you steeled yourself, a hard, resolved expression falling across your features. “There are few like me. And even fewer with any sort of knowledge of the way of the Jedi. I have a duty to finish my training and pass on what I learned from my master. Otherwise the Jedi will die. After everything that’s happened, the galaxy needs that hope, that light.”

“And you can give it to us all,” he mused, “Your light burns brighter than all the stars.”

“Mando,” you sighed, already attempting to contradict him, “That’s–”

“It’s true,” he said firmly.

“Then how could I turn my back on the Jedi now? How could I be so selfish?”

Din had no response to offer you at that, nor could he push the matter further. He understood your devotion. You’d made up your mind, and he would respect that. There was nothing more he could do.

“We can read more of this later,” he suggested, gesturing to the image of the strange saber. “I think I’ve learned enough for one day.”

“I agree,” you said dryly while you flicked off the projection

“Then get some rest. We’re leaving tomorrow so–”

“The ship is fixed?” you interrupted.

“It’ll be ready by the evening meal.”

“That’s–” you paused as you toyed with the holocron, twisting one of the corners. “That’s good. Tomorrow’s our last day here?”

“Once the Crest is fixed, there’ll be no reason to stay,” he answered.

“Right.” You agreed, seeming to refuse to meet his gaze.

“You should get some sleep,” he repeated.

“We both should,” you corrected. “With our luck, or lack thereof, who knows what will happen next.”

He gave a huff of a laugh at that. Truer words had never been spoken.

… . …

After he gently placed the baby in his carrier, pausing for a moment to adjust his blankets before sealing the cover, Mando switched off the lights, removed his helmet, and laid down in his own bunk. An uncomfortable silence fell over the shared sleeping quarters, broken only by the rustling of your sheets as you fidgeted in your bed across from him. It stretched on for what felt like an hour but was probably only ten minutes. Despite your exhaustion, sleep eluded you.

Of course, he knew what he wanted. If your time with him was coming to an end, you wanted to savor every last moment with him. And you were tired enough to not think twice about it.

“Mando–”

“Cyar’ika–”

He didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room, fell into your bed, and closed the distance between the two of you, his arms encircling you and pulling your body to his.

“That’s so much better,” you sighed as you relaxed into his hold. He hummed his agreement as he held you impossibly tighter. You didn’t seem to mind. “I don’t want to leave,” you admitted.

“Me either, cyar’ika,” he stated simply. The name pierced the very fabric of your soul as you remembered what you’d forgotten in your excitement over the holocron.

“I know what that means. Why you call me that,” you whispered against his chest. You let your statement hang there in the open, let the truth of it sink in.

When he didn’t say anything, your heart collapsed in your chest. Maybe the little girls didn’t actually know what they were talking about. Perhaps you’d been wrong to think that the term held that sort of sentiment for him.

But then you felt a light hand against your chin, tilting your head up to face him in the dark. A pair of soft lips brushed against yours in a ghost of a kiss. And yet it was enough to send a shock of electricity through you. He had a way of overwhelming your senses until you couldn’t think straight. The rest of the galaxy faded away and all that was left was him. That would be your undoing.

You shifted closer, just a fraction of an inch, but it was all he needed, and he captured your bottom lip between his, giving you the sweetest kiss. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his nose bumping yours as the two of you delighted in your closeness.

“Cyar’ika,” he whispered to you, his voice still rough around the edges but softer than you’d ever heard it before. He was smiling just as you were. Of that, you were almost certain. Seeking some sort of confirmation, you placed a hand on his cheek, finding it full and rounded from the grin that pulled on his lips. Without even being able to see him, you knew it was the most beautiful smile, made all the better because it was for you.

He kissed you again, firmer, but still so careful, and your hand fell from his face, finding purchase in the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer, asking for more. He was generous enough to give it to you, cradling your head as he deepened the kiss. Wanting to feel him again, your hand traveled lower and you dared to slip under the hem, trailing your fingertips lightly over his warm skin. His abdomen contracted under your touch and he broke the kiss, but he didn’t stop you that time. It occurred to you that no one ever touched him. No one, besides maybe you and the kid, ever saw him without the armor. And doubtlessly no one was allowed to feel the man underneath the Beskar. Perhaps no one ever kissed him either.

Just you.

Feeling emboldened, you splayed your hand across his stomach. He let out a shaky exhalation in response that seemed to confirm your suspicion. “Is this okay? Do you like it when I touch you, Mando?”

“Yes,” he rasped, his breath mingling with yours.

“Why me?” you asked because that was the question that tormented you the most. Why did he have to pick you?

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, soft and full of emotion as he finally gifting you his translation of the endearment, “Don’t make me say it.”

Deciding it would be better if neither of you said much of anything, afraid of what the truth might be, you took a different approach. “Do you want to touch me too?”

“Fuck–” he swore. It sounded like he was choking on the curse. “Yes.”

At his response, you sat up and lifted your tunic off your body, flinging it haphazardly across the room. He followed your motion and pulled his own shirt off with your help. As soon as it was over his head and off his arms, it followed the same trajectory as yours. You wanted nothing more than to feel him against you and he seemed to want the same. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your chest to his so that your skin was almost perfectly flush so that only the thin fabric covering your breasts separated the two of you. And Mando– He made a sound most unbecoming of a Mandalorian. His arms engulfed you as he brought the two of you back down to the bed, your body on top of his.

His calloused hands wandered, caressing every bit of your exposed skin. You knew that if anyone before you didn’t touch him, then he didn’t get to feel anyone else either. He seemed to relish the sensation of your skin against his as he traced the curves of your shoulders, followed the arch of your back, and kneaded the softer parts with just enough pressure to earn delirious whimpers from you. Your mouths meet again with more fervor. Your lips came together and pulled apart, each kiss lingering longer than the last as your shared hesitancy turned to confidence and urgency. It was hot and breathy as neither one of you wanted to part long enough to draw in air.

You felt his affection for you in every warm touch and every passionate kiss. That moment was the culmination of your developing feelings, and you gave everything you had to it. You could only hope that he would finally realize that what you’d told him that morning was true. That he was loved. That you loved him. Truly and deeply.

Mando chased your lips every time you broke apart. He was eager and greedy, and you would’ve happily given him anything. His enthusiasm only spurred you on – you could feel the same excitement that coursed through your veins pouring off of him – and your hands found their way to his hair. You threaded your fingers through his wavy locks to pull him even closer, eliciting a low moan from the back of his throat.

“This feels–” he sighed, “You feel so good.”

“So do you, Mando,” you said breathlessly, smiling against his lips.

“Wanted this, wanted you,” he murmured his lips moving lower to your jaw to leave a warm trail of lingering, openmouthed kisses, each one lower than the last, “Since kriffing Vrogas Vas.” You practically whined under his ministrations and at his words, enchanted by the pleasure he pulled from you. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

Reality set in suddenly and sharply, and you stiffened in his hold. He stopped his movements immediately though he wouldn’t let you go. “Because we shouldn’t,” you answered wetly.

“I know, but–” He never finished his sentence, only spitting out a single word of Mando’a. Something that sounded like a curse.

“I’m so sorry. I want this, but I– I can’t–” you murmured, burying your face against his neck and fighting back a sob as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you again. You were so tired of feeling like you would break anytime you thought of your future. Or the future you wouldn’t have with him.

“I know. It’s okay. Just– Just let me hold you.” You’d never heard him sound so sad before, and a whole new wave of sadness washed over you. It wasn’t just your heart that was breaking. He felt it too. He ran his hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. It sent a shiver through you, and you were keenly aware of the cold bunker around you after stopping your feverish touches. He pulled the threadbare blanket pooled around your waist over your half-bare bodies.

“I don’t want to leave,” you repeated, sounding strangled by your own words.

“Me either, cyar’ika,” he echoed before pressing one last kiss to your temple.

... . ...

Mando'a Translations

Cyar'ika: beloved, sweetheart

Mesh'la: beautiful

Beskar'gam: armor

Mand'alor: sole ruler

... . ...

Thank you for reading!!

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann

The Light of Stars Tags: @roxypeanut @mrsparknuts @evidenceofzoe @holographic-carmen

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfic #fic: the light of stars

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you-a-southpaw-doll · 4 years

Text

Daddy’s Nap ~ A Negan One-Shot

Summary: Negan gets woken up from his nap…

Warning(s): Fluff. Language. Tired Negan. Slightly grumpy Negan. Soft Negan. Daddy!Negan. Dick joke. SHIRTLESS JDM GIFs and images!!

Author’s Note(s): I wrote this story this morning at 6:30 am, after I couldn’t sleep all night long. Insomnia sucks ass. Despite having a major writer’s block for the last several months, this idea hit me and I just had to type it up. I hope y’all like it!

Word Count: 2,470 words

Relationship(s): Negan x Reader.

Characters: Negan. Reader.

Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho@ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl @neganslucille87

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Story Time:

"Give me a fuckin’ minute! Fuck’s sake!”

His voice a half yell, a half sigh as he spoke. Sleep still laced his words, trying hard to cling to the syllables as he rubbed his face against the pillow before sluggishly pushing himself outta bed, leaving the soft, memory foam mattress behind. Strolling over to the thick wooden door that sealed off his quarters, Negan grunted.

The last thing he wanted was to be disturbed. It was too early for this shit. Well, too early in the afternoon, anyway. It’d been a rough day, running things in the Sanctuary. He’d had to iron a fucker’s face as a punishment that now seemed pointless at the current time. But, it had been important for him to remind his people of the rules, and the subsequent consequences of those rules being broken.

He never liked ironing people’s faces, and it always exhausted the fuck outta him, which is why he��d been napping before some fucker knocked on his door. But, he still did it. The ironing. He had to do it. As leader, it was his job. He was the one to enforce the rules in order to keep his people safe. That’s why…

His thoughts trailed off as he jerked the door open, glaring at the person on the other side, intent to rip them a new one for disturbing him and waking him from his much-needed nap.

“What the fu-” He stopped mid-sentence as he took in the sight of the person standing in the hallway, in front of him.

Reader’s P.O.V:

You cringed when you heard him cuss out loud before the noises of shuffling on the other side of the door could be heard. You hadn’t wanted to disturb him, but you had no other choice. You bit your lip as you waited for him to open the door. As soon as it was flung open, your throat closed up and your heart pounded faster in your chest and loudly in your ears.

You barely heard his faltering question when the door was no longer separating the both of y’all. You could see the concern flash over his face, quickly followed by the flash of worry as he furrowed his brow. Your eyes followed his hand as it moved from the doorframe to run through his hair that was no longer slicked back, but rather ruffled from what you could only assume was his pillow.

You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up more. You watched his lips move, but couldn’t hear anything he was saying as the sound of your heartbeat in your ears drowned him out. He reached a hand forward and placed it on your shoulder. That seemed to calm you down real fuckin’ quick.

After a moment, you took a deep breath and blinked, looking up at him.

“Doll?” He asked again.

You shook your head. “Huh?”

He tried to hide the small smile tugging on his lips but failed. His dimples showed as he let out a soft, breathy chuckle.

“I asked what’s wrong? You ok?” He repeated his earlier questions that you hadn’t heard over the beating of your heart.

“Y-y-ye…” You started, but stopped, shaking your head. “No. I’m sorry to bother you, but…” You lifted your arms, showing him what was in them.

Negan’s eyes softened and he nodded. “Say no more, sweetheart.”

His long arms reached out and his hands gently plucked the bundle outta your arms and cradled it to him. He took a step back, giving you room to enter into his living area as he cradled the bundle in his arms. Stepping in, you watched, in awe and amusement as he held your infant son close, and started murmuring softly to the little boy.

You watched, not noticing the door closing, as your son slowly stopped wailing at the top of his little lungs as he stared, wide eyed up at the badass, bat-wielding leader of the Sanctuary. You heard Negan’s chuckle as he lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on the boy’s head. He looked up at you as your son cuddled to him, his chubby little fingers curling ‘round the hairs that covered Negan’s chest.

He smiled, dimples showing once more. “Not quite what I was fuckin’ expectin’ after being woken up from my damn nap.”

You swallowed deeply. “I…I’m sorry, sir. He’s been screaming bloody murder for the last two and a half hours. I tried everything and then some before I finally came up here.”

He smirked. “It’s no fuckin’ problem, sweetheart. Looks like he just wanted me.”

You let out a shaky laugh and nodded, shrugging. “I guess so. I dunno how you do it, but you seem to be the only one who can calm him these days.”

His smirk grew even more. “I’ve just got the touch, I guess. From the moment I met this cute little fucker and his fuckin’ beautiful as shit mother.”

You blushed, hoping he wouldn’t notice as he turned his attention back to the little boy in his arms.

“You just wanted Daddy Negan, didn’t you, little man? Hmmm? Yea. You fuckin’ did.” He chuckled as he cooed at the little boy.

He laughed softly as the boy let out a quiet giggle of his own and snuggled closer to Negan’s chest. You watched, wondering how the hell Negan managed to quiet your son, and make him giggle. As you watched the two of them, that was when you fully noticed Negan. You sucked in a quiet breath as your eyes raked over him.

He was completely shirtless, his tanned skin, chest hair, and numerous tattoos on full display. Your eyes lowered, from his chest to your sons in his arms, and still lower. You bit your lip a little bit as you took in the sight of a pair of holey blue jeans, hanging low on his hips, zipped up but unbuttoned. You could clearly see “AMERICAN EAGLE” stitched in on the dark blue waistband of his boxers he had on under his jeans.

The thick band still hung low enough to show off his abs, and the trail of hair that led to what his pants were covering. You took another breath in and tried not to stare at the developed and clearly prominent V-line of his. You forced your eyes to look lower so you wouldn’t get distracted and your thoughts wouldn’t wander more than they already had.

He was barefoot, which you had already assumed since Negan had been napping before you woke him up. He didn’t even have socks on. Not that you blamed him. It was fuckin’ hotter than Satan’s balls in a sauna on a hot July day in Georgia. The heat was also the most likely cause for the thin layer of sweat that covered his skin.

“Doll?”

You brought your eyes up to meet Negan’s once you heard his soft voice.

“Huh?” You asked.

He laughed and shook his head. “I asked if you were enjoying the view?”

You blushed harder, no longer able to idea it. “Maybe?”

His head tossed back as he let out a deep bellied laugh.

“Maybe my ass! Damn. I ain’t been checked out like that in at least 20 years, and that’s fuckin’ sayin’ somethin’ since I used to have 4 fuckin’ wives!” He smirked.

You raised a brow. “Used to?”

He nodded and grinned as he padded across the soft carpet to his bed. He plopped down on the side of the mattress that was still messed up from his nap a few minutes prior. He swung his feet up, kicking the sheets outta the way as he got comfortable, and leaned back, shifting your son so he was comfortable on Negan’s chest.

The Sanctuary’s leader patted the spot next to him, gesturing for you to settle next to him.

“Mmhhmm. Used to. I got rid of ‘em after I met you and this little munchkin a few months ago.” He said.

You walked over and laid next to him, kicking your shoes off before you climbed up in his huge ass bed, snuggling up to him. This…the three of y’all like this, in his bed…was something that happened quite often since he’d brought you to the Sanctuary 3 months ago.

From the moment Negan had found you and your newborn son, hiding out in a store, and he’d taken your screaming son in an attempt to quiet him, the little boy only quieted for Negan. He could tell you were stressed, trying not to panic from fear that the walkers would find you since your son had been screaming as loud as his little body would allow.

He’d gently taken him from your arms, staying close to you so as to keep you from panicking more as a random stranger taking your son. You’d started to protest, but quickly stopped as your son nestled to Negan’s leather jacket and quieted down the moment he was in the man’s arms. Negan had chuckled, much like he did today, while you’d let out a breath of relief, your panic washing away.

As he’d rocked your son to sleep in his arms, Negan told you about the Sanctuary, and offered to bring you both back. He’d explained the rules, and offered you the same offer he gave to anyone he came across. Only, he’d also offered you the position of being one of his wives. You’d turned that down quickly.

Explaining that you were sure he didn’t want a “wife” who had so much baggage and a child, you’d told him that you’d work for points. He didn’t hide his disappointment, but you could tell he’d respected your choice. When he brought you and your son to the old factory, he set you up in a room that you didn’t have to share, so it was just you and your little boy.

He told you, as he’d laid your sleeping son down, that if you needed anything, not to hesitate to let him know. It hadn’t been until you were in the cafeteria one morning, and someone dropped their tray, startling your little boy from his slumber, making him wail, and Negan came over and gently took him, quieting him down, that you took the man up on his offer.

After that day, it was clear that your son loved Negan and would only quiet down when he was with him. You and Negan had gotten closer during the visits y’all shared as he soothed your boy back to sleep. Many of those visits had consisted of you and Negan curled up in his bed as he held your son against his chest, rubbing his back.

Just like y’all were today. You looked up at Negan after he just dropped the bomb about his wives.

“Why?” You asked.

He shrugged. “I didn’t need them anymore. Got tired of their bullshit. It’s not like I fuckin’ loved any of them. There have been three people in my life that I loved, and I already lost one of them. I wasn’t gonna lose the other two because I wanted to keep the wives. So, I sent ‘em fuckin’ packin’. They were damn happy ‘bout it.”

“I thought Lucille was the only person you loved?” You asked softly.

You knew his first, real wife was a tough subject for him, but he’d opened up to you ‘bout her one night.

He nodded. “She was. Until I met this kid who was screamin’ his lungs out and fuckin’ freakin’ his mama out.”

He glanced at you as he kissed the little boy’s head. It hit you as to what he was saying. You swallowed deeply and your eyes searched yours. You could see it. The love in them. The emotions.

“Us?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded again, slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Mmhhmm. So, I fuckin’ let ‘em go. Just having you and this screamer…that’s all I needed. Even if you didn’t feel the same way. In a sense, you’d given me the chance to be a dad, and I wasn’t gonna fuck that up. Don’t worry. You don’t have to feel the same way. I just figured you’d wanna know the reason behind why I fuckin’ got rid of the wives. I’m content with just being here when he’s screaming so I can soothe him the fuck back to sleep.”

“I…I…” You started but when you couldn’t find the words, you just laid your head on his shoulder and stared at your son as you processed what he was saying.

Negan looked back at your little boy, who was now sound asleep and snuggled to his chest. He smiled and kissed his head when a thought struck him. Not looking away from the baby in his arms, he voiced his thought.

“Have you decided on a name yet?”

You smiled and nodded. When Negan had first found y’all, you still hadn’t given your son a name yet. Nothing seemed right for the precious baby who came into your life. Nothing, that is, until 2 months ago.

That was when you decided on the perfect name for him.

“Alexander.” You murmured, and glanced up when Negan took a breath in.

“Alexander? As in my middle name?” He blinked. “You named him after me?”

You giggled and nodded against his shoulder again. “Figured it’d be fitting for him to be named after the only man in his life. His Daddy. I just couldn’t bring myself to call him Negan too. ‘Specially not since you named your dick ‘Negan Jr.’.”

He laughed as he teared. “I can’t believe I fuckin’ told you that. But, you really named him Alexander? After me? You remembered me telling you ‘bout my middle name?”

You smiled and nodded again. “Mmhhmm. I named him after his Daddy, and the man I love.”

His eyes widened at your confession and he teared more. “Well, fuck me! This was so fuckin’ worth bein’ woken up from a nap.”

You laughed. “That’s not happenin’ right now. He just got to sleep. We are not going to risk wakin’ him up again. But, soon. We can.”

He grinned and kissed your head. “I’m gonna fuckin’ hold you to that. But I agree. What do you say we take a nap? As a family?”

You smiled and snuggled closer to him. “I’d fuckin’ like that.”

He grinned when you used his favorite fuckin’ word. Moving slightly, he wrapped an arm ‘round your shoulders and held you and the baby close. You snuggled to him and kept your head on his shoulder as you soon dozed off too.

“My family.” He murmured, a silly grin on his face. “I love my fuckin’ family.”

#Daddy's Nap #A Negan One-Shot #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan One-Shot #Jeffrey Dean Morgan Fluff #JDM #JDM One-Shot #JDM Fluff #Negan #Negan One-Shot #Negan Fluff #The Walking Dead One-Shot #The Walking Dead Fluff #The Walking Dead #TWD #TWD One-Shot #TWD Fluff

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lovelyysiriuss · 4 years

Text

i want you

*gif not mine

PAIRING: Young!Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

PLOT: In which Remus starts to develop weird feelings for his best friend, Y/N, and the feeling is mutual. They go to their trusty friends, of the same gender, for advice on how to express those feelings.

WORD COUNT: 1556

MASTERLIST | ASKS! REQUESTS! TAGS! | SUBMIT ANYTHING!

THEY HAVE BEEN FRIENDS ever since they first met each other in the Hogwarts Express when he stumbled upon her compartment. She was the only person in that compartment, he wanted a friend, so did she.

Years passed and here he is now. Remus John Lupin falling in love with his best friend Y/N Y/L/N. Her feeling the same way for Remus. The sad part was, they could never think the other felt that way for them, they were as oblivious as ever.

The sun rose and the land of Scotland welcomed it, facing Hogwarts and awakening all of the people in the magical school. It was a Saturday and breakfast started, all the Marauders including Y/N and Lily ran down to the Great Hall to meet each other.

Y/N entered the hall and caught sight of all her friends at one of the four long, mahogany, tables. Sirius waved to call her over, she replied smiling, moving her feet toward them.

"Morning, morning.“ She grabbed a toast from the plate of all the toasted bread, biting into it, "What are you guys talking about in this fine morning?” She settled herself into a seat beside Remus, not noticing him stiffen being that she sat so close to him.

Sirius smirked, “Well, you’re in a good mood.”

Y/N grinned replying, “It’s a nice morning, and it’s the weekend. What more can there be to be happy about?”

"I don’t know, it just looks like you got laid or something.“ Sirius smugly fired back.

Remus choked on his eggs and toast right beside Y/N, coughing continuously. The girl pat his back to help him with the choking, looking at Sirius, "See what you just did?” She continued to pat the chestnut-haired boy’s back, then whispered quietly to him, “Are you sure that I can’t punch him in the face?”

The boy smiled through his choking, “yes” he replied hoarsely.

"Well, what if I just break his nose a little.“

Remus chuckled, looking into her starry eyes. As she spoke to her friends, the boy couldn’t help himself from giving a side glance back to her eyes then glancing down at her lips, appreciating her beauty. This was how the rest of the morning passed to the group of friends.

He had shown multiple signs that he was interested in her. Usually shown as she was talking, but she never noticed.

It was a long day of classes for her and she entered the Gryffindor Common Room with a sad expression painting her face.

She settled on the scarlet couch, throwing her bag next to her. But didn’t notice Remus until he asked, "Why the long face?”

She looked up at him, “I had the worst day. Nothing is going right! First of all, I woke up late, which means I missed breakfast and my first class of the day. Then at that point, I said: ‘what the hell?’ And decided I’d be late for my other two classes, I took a shower, did my hair-”

"I knew there was something different about you.“ Remus aimed out, mid while she was speaking, "I like the way you did your hair today.”

"You’re not listening!“ Y/N angrily replied.

Remus started to snicker at the state she was in, "It’s a good thing you’re cute when you’re angry.”

The girl blushed at his remark but tried to make it unnoticed when he looked back up to her from the book he was reading. That was the first smile she gave that day.

Finally, with the acceptance of their feelings, they turned to their friends of the same gender in order to give them advice.

Y/N ran through the Gryffindor Common Room, in just her pajamas and fuzzy socks, approaching the girl’s dormitory.

She found the door that she was looking for, grabbing the doorknob and turning it, not even bothering to knock. She entered the room, leaning her back against the door, “Guys, I need your help!”

The three girls that were sprawled out on their beds looked up with a distasteful look at the person that chose to barge into their dormitory, disturbing their slumber.

Lily groaned, scratching her head, struggling to sit up on her bed. Marlene tossed her throw pillow Y/N’s way, she caught it with ease.

Alice stirred in her sleep, “Alright,” she started to sit up in her bed, “what’s wrong?”

Y/N tried to regain her breath from all the jogging she did, “I think I’m in love with Remus…” The girls paused for a moment as soon as they heard that, immediately sitting up in their beds.

"Okay, first of all. Just, take a deep and long breath.“ Lily announced.

"Take a deep and long breath!? It feels like my insides are being RIPPED OUT!” Her eyes were wide open, screaming at seven in the morning.

Little did she know that Remus was acting the same way as she was talking to her friends. However, the “talk” that he was having with his friends was more calm and peaceful.

"Hey, so, I wanna talk about something with you for a little bit, do you guys mind right now?“ Remus said to James and Sirius.

James groaned, turning in his bed. "Is it really that important? Kind of in the middle of something right now.” Sleeping.

"Well, it’s kind of really important.“ Remus expressed. Sirius was starting to stir in his sleep. Remus sighed, "It’s about Y/N.” At the sound of her name, both Sirius and James sat up in their beds, rubbing their eyes that were drenched in sleep.

"Alright pretty boy, come to papa.“ Sirius laughed, tapping the bed space right beside him. Remus let out a soft chuckle, plushly taking a seat on the mattress. "So do you fancy her?”

The sandy-haired boy breathed out a sigh, “She’s my best friend. That hasn’t changed.”

"It’s clear your feelings for her has.“ James announced, "You’re in love with her, you have to tell her.”

The boy was quick to shake his head, “It’s not that easy. She probably doesn’t feel the same way for me.”

The dark-haired boy beside him smirked, “You have no idea how many times I’ve noticed her blush around you, how she’s so shy and so close with you rather than the rest of us. Trust me, she loves you, just as much as you love her. You have to tell her.”

In Y/N’s view, she was still in the girl’s dormitory. Currently, Lily was giving her advice, “You have to tell him, I know he feels the same way about you. I’ve noticed him give you many looks that can only be explained as love.”

"Yeah, you have to tell him.“ Marlene agreed, running her hand through her messy bed head.

On that afternoon they did. Y/N was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, Remus was coming down from the boy’s dorms, he caught sight of the girl that was sitting in one of the scarlet-red couches.

The boy suddenly got nervous. Though he decided to face his fear of rejection and moved his feet to the girl, coming up behind her. He whispered in her ear, "Hey, I have to talk to you up in my dorm it’s really important.” The string of words sent a shiver down her spine, she nodded, however, and followed Remus up to his room.

The pair came up to his room, she closed the door behind him. “So… what’s up?” She leaned her back against the closed door, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Have you noticed that I’ve been acting strange lately?“

The girl was confused as to what type of question he was asking, "No, well even if I did I would think that it was because the full moon is coming up.”

Remus chose to snap right then and there, “Can’t you see it? I love you. I have for so, so, long, but you can’t see it. You’re my best friend, and you always read me so well, but you’ve been blind to this. Over and over, you choose someone else instead of me. Why is that Y/N? Am I too much of a monster for you? Am I not like a hot-shot like most of the guys that you have one night stands with?”

She was offended that he was snapping at her like this. Especially at the last thing that he told to her. She looks down to the ground and speaks in an all too quiet voice, “You have no idea how many wishes I have used to you. Haven’t you ever noticed that I hesitate each time you ask me who I like? It’s because I’m so tempted to just tell you, but I know you won’t feel the same way.”

The next move that Remus pulled was bold, even for him. He moved his way to her with ease, grabbed her face, and kissed her with passion. Surprisingly for him, she kissed back. The kiss lasted for a few minutes but when they stopped for air, he spoke, “Does that show you how much I love you?”

Y/N blushed. The first time he ever noticed her blush around him.

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years

Note

But my another one is a imagine is a where u and angel have a child but it’s mixed and he doesn’t tell anyone so y’all end up in an argument and end up as a breakup but get back together if that makes sense

*I’m sorry it took a little while but I finally got it done! 😁 I hope you love it and it’s what you were hoping for 💕 Thanks so much for the request girl!*

*gif not mine*

Warnings: Some Fluff and Some Angst with a good old fashioned happy ending

The infectious sound of your daughter’s laugh woke you up from your slumber with a smile on your face. Sitting up you looked on at Angel as he had your three year old pinned under him, blowing raspberries onto her belly, causing the fit of giggles that had your heart swelling with love.

“Papi stop!” She squealed between giggles as she pushed on his head with all her little might.

Creeping silently out of bed you tried to sneak up behind him, your daughter catching sight of you and screaming for you to rescue her, “Mommy!”

Angel pulled away from his little girl, her breathing heavily as she tried to catch her breath and squirm away from him. He turned around to face you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a grin on his face.

“Don’t you dare,” you said slowly, knowing full well what he was up to.

“I think it’s mommy’s turn, don’t you mija.” He said standing up and prowling towards you.

“Get her Papi!” Your daughter screamed enthusiastically.

“I’m serious, don’t Angel,” you said trying to keep your giggles down as you backed away, hands in front of you defensively.

You turned to make a break for it out your bedroom door, Angle quickly catching you around the waist and dragging you back before laying you across the bed. You tried to fight him off, laughing, as his hands tickled your sides knowing that was your weak spot.

Your child cheered and egged him on bouncing up and down before climbing her way onto the bed.

He finally let up, the three of you in a fit of laughter now. He looked into your eyes as he hovered above you, both breathless as your laughter died down. He licked his lips staring at yours before he leaned down, your lips meeting in a kiss, his tongue slipping his way into your mouth.

Both of you caught up in the moment, you seemed to forget about your little toddler sitting nearby, “Eww blechk,” she said, sticking her tongue out, making a gagging noise.

Pulling away you both laughed at her reaction.

“What? You mad I’m giving mama all the kisses?” He teased, pulling her into his arms and placing a big wet kiss on the side of her face.

“Papi your beards scratchy!” She complained, rubbing her face with her little hand.

You smiled just enjoying your Sunday morning with your family wishing this mood would last the whole day but it wasn’t long before Angel’s damn phone went off interrupting your perfect day.

“Yo,” he answered getting off the bed and walking out into your living room as he took the call.

Putting on a fake smile you got up pulling your daughter into your arms, dreading what you knew was coming, as you carried her out on your hip, “How about we get some breakfast, yeah?” She smiled up at you nodding.

You walked with her into the kitchen opening the cupboard and pulling out the pancake mix, bowl, and utensils, setting her down on the counter as you began scooping out some of the mix into the bowl.

You waited for Angel to come back, trying to listen in to the conversation but not being able to hear much from his hushed voice. You heard as he ended the call before retreating back into the bedroom.

“Chocolate chips, chocolate chips!” Your daughter chanted reaching for the bag laying on the counter.

You ran your hand gently across her cheek before placing a small kiss to her forehead, taking the chocolate morsels and pouring some into the bowl.

You listened as you heard Angel’s bootsteps trudge into the kitchen before stopping behind you. He gripped your waist before placing a kiss to the top of your shoulder, “I’m sorry, mi dulce.” He murmured.

Your shoulders tensed as you already knew what was coming. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, knowing you would snap, and not wanting your daughter to see that.

“Where you going Papi?” (Y/D/N) said, disappointment in her voice.

Angel sighed as he stepped back, his heart breaking, as he looked at his whole world looking at him pouting.

You collected yourself before scooping your daughter up and setting her down on the ground, leaning over to talk to her, “Why don’t you go pick out a movie? We can watch it while we eat our breakfast.” You said gently. You knew this would be enough to distract her as you never let her watch tv while eating.

Hurrying off she ran into the living room to make her selection.

Standing up straight you leaned back against the counter arms crossed as you looked at Angel now fully dressed, cut and all.

“Don’t look at me like that (Y/N),” he sighed running his hand through his hair, “you know when the club needs me I have to go.”

“And what about your family? What about when we need you?” You huffed, trying to keep your voice low, “Why can’t you just tell them to fuck off because your spending the day with your family for once, like you promised.”

He gave you a look, eyes pleading.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. They don’t even know we exist!” You spat, throwing your arms up.

He went to respond but you cut him off, “And why is that exactly Angel? Are you ashamed of us? Afraid of what they will think about your big bad boy persona if they knew the truth? Why are we a secret? What are you afraid is gonna happen if your two worlds collide? Felipe and EZ know about us, so why can’t the club?”

He looked back at the clock behind you, knowing he didn’t have time for this right now. His shoulders drooped and he frowned. If he was late Bishop would have his ass and he was already walking on thin ice with el presidente right now.

“I can’t do this right now,” he pleaded, “but I promise we will talk about this when I get back, por favor querida.”

“If you leave right now Angel, we won’t be here when you get back.” You said, meaning every word, you had had enough.

Angel hesitated, being between a rock and a hard place, he looked once more at the clock before back at you, hoping to be calling your bluff, “Please mi amor. We will talk when I get back.” With that he left you, hopping onto his bike and riding away as you listened as the rumble got quieter.

Tears filled your eyes as you couldn’t believe he actually left you. He chose the club over you, but what hurt worse was that he chose the club over your daughter. Wiping your eyes quickly you pulled on another fake smile as your daughter came bounding into the kitchen with her favorite movie.

“Alright let’s make some pancakes!” You exclaimed over the top clapping your hands together.

—————————————————————————————————————

Angel pulled into the driveway, turning off his bike and climbing off exhausted. It was late, the sky almost pitch black and they had just got back from the other side running an errand for the cartel. All he wanted to do was kick back and relax with his girls curled up against him on the couch, taking his mind off the stressful day. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He promised you that you guys could talk about it so that’s what he was going to do.

Unlocking the front door he stepped into your home flicking the light on, he assumed you would be waiting up for him so he was surprised to find your shared home completely dark, but then again it was late, maybe you were just in bed already.

He kicked his boots off hanging his cut up by the door. Walking down the hallway he slowly pushed your daughter’s room door open expecting to see her fast asleep, but finding her bed empty. She must be in your bed he thought. It wouldn’t be the first time she slept with the two of you.

He stepped into the bedroom and that’s when he noticed his bed was also vacant, completely made up and untouched. This is when he started to panic. He rushed to the dresser opening your drawers and finding them empty. Slamming them shut violently he rushed back into your daughter’s rooms doing the same with the same results.

You really left him. You weren’t bluffing.

He sunk down onto the floor leaning his back against your daughter’s bed as he clutched his chest. He had never felt this heartbroken or lost before in his life. It was as if someone cut off one of his limbs and he didn’t know what to do.

Pulling out his phone he tried calling you, but of course you didn’t answer, so he called the next person he could think of, “I fucked up Pops, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

—————————————————————————————————————

“I told you he was no good. I told you he was trouble. I told you to leave him long before he knocked you up, but no!”

You rubbed your temples, elbows rested on your knees, as your best friend went on and on with the told you so’s. You knew she didn’t like him from the beginning but this was the last thing you needed right now.

“Enough!” You yelled, catching yourself and quieting down as you looked at your sleeping child not far away, “I get it, okay?”

“I’m just saying.” she said much more gently as she sat besides you, “I love you guys and I just hate to see you hurting because of some asshole.”

“I know,” you sighed, “it’s been a long day, I think I just want to try to get some sleep.”

“Of course,” she stood up resting her hand gently on your shoulder, “you are welcome to stay here as long as you need.” Walking out the door closing it behind her she left you and your daughter in the small guest bedroom.

Laying down you pulled her close inhaling her comforting scent, already missing having Angel snuggled with the two of you.

—————————————————————————————————————

It had been a couple of days since you left Angel. You ignored every call he made to you and refused to tell him where you were but he already knew where you’d be. Your daughter kept asking about Papi and you tried your best to avoid and divert her questions, not really sure how to explain it to the toddler. She was a daddy’s girl and was not taking the separation well which only made matters worse for you.

The two of you were in the car now with EZ heading to have lunch. He called earlier and you gave in hoping that things would be better if she at least got to see her tío and he promised that he wouldn’t try to ambush you with Angel.

“You know you can’t keep her from him,” he said as you drove down the street. He knew it was a tough situation between you and his brother but he also knew it wasn’t right to keep the child from her father. Angle loved you and that little girl more than anything, EZ could see that, and that’s what started the fight in the first place.

“Why not? He kept us from the club.” You said stubbornly.

Your daughter sat in her car seat in the back playing with the new toy motorcycle EZ had bought for her.

Sighing EZ stopped at a stop sign before turning left in the opposite of the diner you were planning on having lunch at.

“Where are we going EZ?” You asked, starting to get suspicious.

“I just need to make one quick stop.” He said, keeping his eyes on the road. Pulling up to the scrapyard he pulled into the lot parking the car. Angel was outside leaning against his bike.

“You promised,” you scolded EZ giving him a glare.

“Papi!” Yelled your little girl when she saw her daddy waiting outside. She squirmed in her seat excitedly, trying to wiggle her way out of it.

Taking a deep breath you exited the vehicle slowly making your way over to Angel arms crossed once again as he met you halfway.

“(Y/N),” he started to say.

You cut him off, “What are we doing here Angel? What is this place?”

“Look,” he said, running his fingers gently down the side of your face, easing some of your tension with his touch and voice, “All I wanted to do was protect you, mi dulce, and in the end I only ended up hurting you. You and her are everything to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you, but the club has a lot of enemies and it’s dangerous. I couldn’t bear the thought of you coming into the crosshairs from it. That’s why I wanted to keep you separate from it.”

You looked into his eyes seeing that he was being honest with you and you reached out to tenderly touch his face. “I believe you,” you whispered, “I’m sorry for thinking the worst in you. I shouldn’t have left like that. She needs her father and so do I.”

Smiling relieved Angels wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tightly to his chest before kissing you.

“Icky!” Your daughter yelled from EZ’s arms behind you.

You all laughed as you pulled away and EZ handed her off to Angel as she reached out desperately for him. She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck hanging on tightly, “I missed you Papi!”

“I missed you too, amorcito. Now come on I have some people I’d like you to meet.” Grabbing your hand with his free arm he walked with you leading you into the clubhouse.

Your daughter buried her face in her father’s neck as she looked at all the men about the room. “It’s ok mija. These are all your tío’s.” She picked her head up at the familiar word looking to her tío EZ before all the other men.

“This is my family,” he introduced you two to the club, “My girl (Y/N),” he squeezed your hand, “And our daughter (Y/D/N).” He smiled proudly showing his girls off to his other family.

The men came up to you one by one introducing themselves. They were all so kind and welcoming, you could see the familia bounds between them. Your heart leapt with joy and you leaned up to kiss Angel, thankful he finally let you in on this part of his life.

Angel grinned as you both watched your little girl smiling and playing with EZ and some of the guys, his arm holding you tightly against him around your waist. His heart swelled, for the first time in a long time he felt complete as his two worlds came together beautifully as one.

Everything Taglist: @jad3djay

#angel reyes #angel reyes imagine #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #requests

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voidselfshipp · 3 years

Text

Sweeping Wind

Cw: food, blood, injury ment and suggestive content ahead. Eye contact for the GIF.

Ok to rb.

Summary: yasuo is saved by a shapeshifter, and in their journey togheter he finds that his feelings for her are not what he thought they were.

The night set on ionia, a lone Man walks through the pastures, heavy with regret, sorrow and tiredness he takes a swig from his alcoholic drink.

He sets camp on a hill,and rests with his sword nearby.

Its late when he wakes up, in the dead of night he looks around him, peeking his head through his tent.

He finds a small lizard eating his leftovers, he chuckles Bringing the poor creature in for the night, it seems to stare at him, and blinks.

The Next morning he resumes his travel, the lizard now resting on his cloak accompanies Him.

He had some suspicions about the animal he was carrying, there was something odd, he couldnt quite place what it was.

It all made sense as he scaped from a pack of bandits,that quickly followed behind him.

Yasuo was badly injured, he ran through the forest as much as he could holding his side.

Suddenly the lizard jumps off his cloak and transforms, at first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he was thankfull that whatever came to his aid appeared.

He then layed on the Grass against a trunk, he sees the silouhuette of a woman, he blinks a couple of times, until the blurry images become one.

From under the veil of a hat is a woman, that carefully was desinfecting his wound.

-- stay away woman!-- yasuo tried to reach his sword but falls back on the tree.

-- easy there-- she said putting a soft warm hand on his cold body, he shudders.

The misterious stranger wraps his sides once his wound was stiched up.

She then leans back pulling back the veil, leaving it on the upper part of her hat.

Yasuo softly sits up, and with confusion in his eyes, he looks at her-- who...what are you?

-- im jerico, im a shapeshifter -- she answered.

The Man tilts his head-- but werent shapeshifters gone?

-- im one of the last ones--she said with a heavy and sad tone-- I was scouting ionia after years of not being here, I stumbled on you, and you took care of me, so now ill do the same

Yasuo was stubborn and hard headed, yet, his cheeks warmed up and he looked away-- thank you-- he said, sitting crosslegued, arms hung loosely.

-- you should rest, ill make you some dinner, and set up camp, the nights falling in quickly-- jerico said, doing as she says she would, preparing a makeshift bed for yasuo.

Then she made dinner.

Yet the Man couldnt get his mind to wind down, he never could, but this time, this time was different.

He looked at her face, being illuminated by the Fire, her eyes fixated on the pot with the food.

He smiles for a brief moment and then lays his head back down on the makeshift pillow.

His eyes felt heavy, he turns to his healthy side and decided to sleep, feeling jerico put her cloak over him, it smelled like her, and it only made him fall quicker into slumber.

When he woke up, jeri was Gently nudging Him, a Plate of food in hand.

She gives it to him, as he wraps himself in the cloak.

-- thank you-- he muttered, eating his food-- where'd you learn this recipe?

--Many years of travel, and experience-- she said smiling at his sudden interest.

They stay in silence for a moment, then the Man says-- shapeshifters live a long life, I presume you have a lot of stories to tell..

Jerico nodds-- I do, would you like to hear one?

He nodded.

And so she told him some of her adventures, from the deserts of shurima to the grounds of demacia.

-- and where were you born?-- he asked.

-- I dont know, my home probably doesnt exist anymore...

They shared a tent for the night, they were too close for his liking, and both told themselves that the only reason they cuddled the night away was because of the very thin blanket.

The Next morning they arrived to a city, jerico knew someone so they stayed in a nice appartment.

Now here were these two, arguing in the bathroom.

-- jerico I can take my own armor off! Thank you very much!

-- yasuo! Let me help! Youre in no condition! Besides its not like im going to undress you!

Yasuo snorted-- wouldnt you like that!

Her cheeks turn red-- fine! Go and undress, ill wait outside-- she stomps outside and slams the door shut.

The ionian felt very accomplished with himself, he finally got her to blush!.

He took off his clothes and got into the tub, he gave her the okay, and she helped him wash his hair.

Jerico was in love with yasuo,he came out of nowhere like a rampaging wind, sweeping her off her feet in an instant, as she combed the shampoo out of his hair with warm water, she looked at yasuo, he should leave his hair down more often.

She just wanted to Cup his cheeks and kiss his pretty face.

Now as he washes his body, she sits on the floor with her back against the tub, giving him some privacy. Talking about what they would do after this.

-- well, I was hoping that youd stay with me for the rest of my travel, if you so desire

Jerico smiled-- well only if you want to

He splashes a bit of water on accident as he emphasizes -- yes of course I want you to come with me!-- he then clears his throat-- I mean, yes, id Appreciate your company...

--Ill go make us something--she then stands up And presses a kiss to his cheek-- if you need anything call me

She then walks out of the bathroom to the kitchen leaving a flustered yasuo behind her.

Its night,as she prepares some tea, she sees the ionian Man leave the bathroom all changed, the casual clothes he was wearing made him look cute, his hair was down, as opposing as his up and tight ponytail.

He Walked to her and helped her make tea, and now with the lights off they look down at the Window to the city below.

--yknow, this kettle is very beautiful-- jeri said pouring some tea for them-- I wish I had one

Yasuo smiled-- well, since youll be coming with me, you can Keep it-- he looked at her and taking her hand he shyly interlazes their fingers togheter.

Jeri smiled, and drank from her cup, not before she raised it in a toast-- for our adventures

He chuckles and clinks their cups togheter-- for us -- he smiles and drinks too.

It was a surprise to no-one that they cuddled that night, yasuo softly Turned jerico to face him, he caresses her cheek softly.

He spent years running away, following the wind from any sort of relationshipp, he did not want them to get hurt, everyone he loves was dead, and he didnt want to loose her too.

But that night, in that moment he knew, he loved her and at least he'll try to Keep her safe.

They lean in and he hesitantly presses his lips against hers, smiling as she puts her hands on his waist, he mimicks her and hugs her waist.

-- I love you-- he whispered to jerico.

Jerico with eyes half lidded, out of tiredness, and smiled, pressing her forehead against yasuos-- I love you too..

Needless to say that the wind has finally found its path.

#cw food #tw food #cw injury #tw injury #cw blood ment #tw blood ment #cw suggestive #tw suggestive #cw eye contact #tw eye contact #eye contact #ask to tag #yasuo tag pending #cw alcohol #tw alcohol

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imagine-what-would-happen · 4 years

Text

Since the Beginning (Ben Solo One Shot?)

Hey everyone! Here is a little one shot I had been thinking about for a bit. I really think it can go farther as a little fic so if you guys are into it and enjoy it then I’ll definitely extend it! Let me know what all of you think! Part 4 to A Little Bit of Grey is coming up soon! Credit to the original creator of the GIF (not mine)!

Words: 2.3k+

Warnings: None! :)

(Edited): Link to Part 2

Link to Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A ruffle of his hair, a tight hug and then a prolonged goodbye. This is how Ben was continuously left behind by his parents. He was used to it by now at the age of eight, going through the motions ever since he could remember.

Ben held a tight smile and waved goodbye as his parents boarded the Millenium Falcon, one last wave and the door closed with a hiss and release of steam. The ground shook, he had to cover his ears at the sound of liftoff. As soon as they were off the ground and far enough that he knew they weren’t looking back anymore, Ben turned around, closing himself off in his room.

His bed creaked slightly under the weight he put on it when sitting down, his face in his hands. The sun began setting over the horizon, his room got darker, lonelier. He only had his nanny left now, for the most part, he never interacted with her, he could manage to do everything by himself. They were mostly there in case of any emergencies and also for the protection of Ben, a lot of different species didn’t like his parents, it was no secret.

Ben laid his back onto his bed, staring up at the darkening ceiling, slowly enough he drifted off to sleep.

“Ouch!” A voice woke the child from his slumber, rubbing his eyes and squinting, turning his head around his small room. Then on the ground, he saw a little girl holding her leg. He sat up slowly, cautiously. “W-who are you? Where did you come from? How did you get in here?” He asked quickly, he was hesitant to make any sudden moves. He had never really been around other children, he was homeschooled thanks to the target on his parent’s backs.

She let out a slight whimper, rubbing her shin, “Me? Who sleeps in the middle of a forest!” She groaned, a bruise starting to appear on her leg.

Ben furrowed his brows, confused more than ever? “A forest?” He chuckled. “This is my room.” He stood up, “Are you okay?”, he had no idea what was happening but he still somehow felt bad. It looked as if the girl had hit into his bed frame with her leg.

“Don’t rooms usually have four walls?” She rolled her eyes, finally looking up at him. “I’m Y/N” She held out a hand.

Ben was warned time and time again about not talking to strangers... but if everyone in the world was a stranger to him, he wouldn’t ever have any friends. He figured it had to start off somewhere. “Ben,” he said with a soft smile, meeting her hand. It was strange, he could feel her skin against his hand, but it felt heightened as if he could feel the blood rushing through her veins, could feel the vibrations of her heartbeat. They were just barely touching hands, and yet it felt incredible.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ben” Y/N smiled.

“You too Y/N,” Ben smirked. “So how about you tell me about the forest that you think my room is?” He laughed softly.

“If I do that then you have to get me ice.” Y/N said with a proud and confident smile.

“It’s a deal.”

The two both grew on different planets, popping in on one another’s lives at the most random times. They, for the most part, had no idea what was happening. At least Y/N didn’t. As Ben trained in the ways of the Force with his uncle and master Luke, he decided it was better to keep Y/N out of it. Having Force-sensitive abilities came with consequences, he figured as long as she didn’t know, she would be safe.

As they both talked endlessly about their lives, they had agreed upon two things. They would never tell each other the planet they were on, or who their family was.

Ben was taking in the fresh air, sitting on one of the rocks of Yavin 4, reading the ancient writings of the Jedis before him. He was entranced in them, the wind blowing through his grown-out hair. He felt so at peace, that was until a box appeared, smashed out of nowhere. “Hey, Ben!” Y/N yelled at a surprised, yet smirking young Jedi.

“Hello, Y/N” Ben quickly closed the journal, placing it on the rock as he stood. “Should I be worried about why you’re running?” He began following her, going on a bit of a jog, wanting to take in all the time they have together, sometimes they would go only days without talking, other times its been months. He had no idea how or why they appeared to each other, it always seemed so random.

Y/N kept running, seeming to jump over invisible obstacles, then grabbing onto tree branches, swinging from them. Ben was in awe in the way she seamlessly seems to go through the environment. “Oh! Nothing to fear!” Y/N chuckled, “ya know, just trying not to die. The usual” She stated with a shrug of her shoulders.

Ben became quickly aware in their friendship of the fact that Y/N was often enough in danger, and when she wasn’t she had to speak quietly. He often theorized about what she could be, perhaps a thief, or a spy, or perhaps she just had an over barring family who she tried to get away from. They never went into much detail about personal involvement in their communities or other people. When they were together, they wanted to focus on each other, as much as they could at least.

There had been a few moments when Y/N had nearly caught Ben training with a lightsaber, he would quickly turn it off and excuse himself discreetly from his exercises. He knew that his uncle Luke may have had some idea of what was happening to him, but he was never confronted about it, nor did Luke try to discreetly give him knowledge about it. Ben figured it was just something he had to figure out for himself, he didn’t mind though, he enjoyed having this one thing all to himself, he felt most alive in his moments with her.

When he was with Y/N he didn’t have to hold back his laughter, his amusement, for some reason, he felt he had to with just about everyone else in his life. “Just make sure not to break too much stuff, alright?” He smirked, crossing his arms, finally resting. She seemed to have found a spot to hide behind, she was looking over her shoulder, breathing in deeply and smiling brightly.

“I’m glad to see you too.” She teased, walking over to him and hugging him tightly, “How have things been?”. They held their hug for a few bittersweet moments before letting go.

“They’ve been usual, nothing really happening”, he shrugged, “Just training, although it seems like you’re the one getting all the action. Ben leaned against a tree, putting his hands in his pockets. Y/N did the same.

“Yeah, I wish I could get away from it all, at least for a while, just relax”, she sighed running their fingers through their hair.

“Y/N?” Ben asks.

“Yes?” She looks up at him.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered softly.

She groaned, “Not this again, come on Ben!” She started turning away, pacing, a habit Ben often did, they picked up things from one another in childhood. That was when they saw each other the most.

“Y/N, I’m serious! Do you, or don’t you!” He tried not to get offended, but he wanted to help her. He wanted to be able to be there for her. Not just be some imaginary friend in her life.

“I do! You know the answer. You know me better than anyone in my life.” She sighed. “I just can’t drag you into all of this... It's complicated, and its easier to deal with complicated if I don’t have to worry about you...”, Ben could tell she had to force the words out. She meant them, though, it didn’t mean they were easy to say. In previous conversations, she would always steer clear of the topic or change the subject suddenly.

“Do you want to stay like this forever? Y/N... please.” He searched her eyes, her deep beautiful eyes.

She bit her lip, “Ben, I d-” she was cut off short by her own gasp before completely disappearing.

He tried to breathe, he took deep breaths. This was unfair, everything in his life so unfair. He did nothing to deserve it.

He screamed, his fist planting firmly into the nearby tree, again and again until he felt numb. Until he could feel his heart beating like the first time he held hands with Y/N, the way he felt her heart beating. He breathed heavily, a single tear racing down his cheek. He felt more alone than ever.

Taking a deep breath he composed himself, wiping the tear away, straightening his uncontrollable locks, and stood upright.

It was months... lonely, icy cold, it rained constantly on the island. Ben was starting to slip in his training. He was scared, lonely, and most importantly, worried about Y/N. What if something happened to her. There have only been one or two times in their friendship when they hadn’t seen each other for months, every time it happened, he worried more and more. Wondering if it would be the last time. He would never get to find out what happened to her.

Then the fire happened, the night when Ben knew for certain that he was alone in life. He had no one he could count on anymore. Y/N was gone, he was sure of it. There was no light left in his world.

It was sooner than later that he found himself on the dark side. It was strange for him to be wearing entirely black. It had been a year now since he had last seen Y/N, if only she could see him now, what he had become. He shook away the thoughts, it doesn’t matter. She’s gone.

It was time for the recently turned dark Jedi to go on another mission, he strutted to his ship, walking as proudly and fiercely as he could, that is without tripping. He was still getting used to his Kylo Ren helmet.

He smoothly slipped into his ship, although he was his father’s son, he didn’t have too much time in the pilot’s seat of - well anything. Without missing a beat, Kylo Ren took off in his ship, alone, not unusual. He gripped the steering tightly, he needed to focus, punching in the coordinates he let his ship take him where he needed to go.

A flash of light stars splitting past him, he would never be used to lightspeed, no matter how beautiful it looked.

When his ship finally slowed he took a long look at the area surrounding him, he didn't recognize just about anything. Something had gone wrong, this was supposed to be a routine mission. He typed in the coordinates properly and, it was just then that he understood as he tried to turn that he had lost all control of his ship. Someone else was controlling it now, all he could do was sit and wait.

Kylo punched the wall of his ship, he hated waiting in anticipation. Crossing his arms he focused on looking out the window, he could see the forest. A lot of green in fact. He was nervous, he was alone and aside from his lightsaber, he was defenceless. Did they know who he was? They had to, right?

His ship finally touched the ground, he couldn’t see anyone. He hesitated but slowly exited his ship, he reached for his lightsaber but suddenly couldn’t feel anything anymore. It all went black.

He woke up tied to a chair, stripped of his usual long black cloak and helmet. He felt so bare. He could see he was in a tent, his head was pounding. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to calm himself. It was then when he saw her. Pulling the cover of the tent back as to enter it. “Mo- Leia...” He tried not to let his voice break. He hadn’t seen her in years.

He lost all ability to speak, his breath left him. He didn’t know what would happen, he didn’t know how to feel.

“Ben...” She said softly and touched his cheek. He got shivers and closed his eyes.

“That's not my name”. He stated as if reading lines from a script. He had to keep his cool. This couldn’t be happening.

“We don’t have time for this game. There's something more important going on.” She searched his eyes. “Ben, it's one of my people. They’ve been taken and we need them back.”

This time he pulled back and scoffed. “Seriously? You think you’re going to trade me for one of your pathetic resistant fighters?”

She sighed. “No, I need you to go save them. This isn’t just a rescue mission for them, its for you too. I need my son back.”

He could feel Lei’s heartbreaking. “I.. I can’t.”

She untied him swiftly. “Son, when your mother states she needs you to do something, you really don’t have a choice. And you’re not going to be taking off on your own accord. You ship is being stripped for parts as we speak.” She crossed her arms. “Ben, things happened so quickly, we never truly got to say goodbye.”

He shook his head “We said plenty of goodbyes when I was a child, there wasn’t any need for another.” He spat.

She sighed. “I didn’t want to do this.” She shifted her weight to one leg.

He looked more confused but intrigued never the less.

“Ben its Y/N... she was the one who was taken.”

#ben solo #kylo ren #ben solo imagine #kylo ren imagine #ben solo one shot #kylo ren one shot #leia #leia organa #luke skywalker #master luke #ben solo x reader #kylo ren x reader #millenium falcon

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