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These Violent Delights B&N Exclusive Story (Romajuliette Christmas Story)

Happy holidays! Here is my gift to you: Roma and Juliette being 15 and happy, which was truly a fleeting time. Because this takes place four years before the events of These Violent Delights, there are no spoilers, but if you haven’t read the book yet, go forth and read the book first, this will always be waiting here even when the holiday season ends!

You can click here to download the short story if you prefer reading in formatted e-book version. If you don’t mind website formatting, then scroll onward!

“The year was 1922, and nothing was impossible.”

Juliette closed her left eye, trying to line up her shot. This was life-or-death. This had everything riding on it: the fate of the day, the fate of her reputation…

She flicked her finger and the marble sped into the circle, colliding against the others with a satisfying clink-clink-clink. For a moment, there was a dizzying array of colors skittering in all directions. Then the red beads settled and the green beads came to a stop by the piece of string, and Juliette scrambled to her feet with a high-pitched squeal.

“Victory,” she crowed, “is mine!”

Roma Montagov rolled his eyes, bending down to collect the marbles. He feigned annoyance, but Juliette caught him trying to suppress his smile.

“Okay, drama queen. It was a game of marbles, not a cage fight.”

“I would win that too.”

Juliette stopped a still-rolling marble with her shoe, and kicked it over to him to help with the tidying efforts. She had struck her last shot so hard that the marbles were scattered everywhere in the alley, one hiding behind a half-rotting trash bag, damp with rainwater. With a grimace, Juliette pushed her dress sleeve up, folding the fur around her wrist up so it wouldn’t get dirtied when she nudged aside the trash, digging into the corner. These alleys were cramped and soggy and vaguely dark, even with the morning sun hovering somewhere in the winter horizon. Nevertheless, it was the place they came to hang around, because it was the place with the least amount of prying eyes.

Juliette finally rolled the marble out, huffing a breath as she stood and nudged it again with her shoe. It was then that a sudden pressure struck against her temple, like something had fallen from the sky. Juliette reared back, blinking in shock as her hand flew to cup her head. By the time she realized it was not the heavy sky pelting miniature rocks at her, but Roma plucking marbles from his palm one by one and shooting them at her with deadly aim, another hit had struck the back of her hand and bounced again to the ground.

“Hey!” she whined.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what?” Juliette dodged the next marble. “Quit it!”

“Make me.”

The sea breeze blew in, salty and cold and wicked. It seemed to liven Roma even further as he grinned. Even at fifteen, he was a better marksman than half the gangsters in the city, but not for any notorious reason. Money simply bought the best tutors and teachers. He was good… but Juliette was better.

She caught the next one he threw, right out of mid-air, and hurled it back at him.

It struck his shoulder. Roma gave a short yell, all the marbles in his hand falling to the ground loudly. The Bund was nearby, making a constant ruckus from the ship workers and crew men as they bellowed and made haste, trying to get home earlier and earlier in the day as the end of the year approached. Juliette didn’t hear Roma emit any other noise of pain after his first yell, but she saw his lips part as he staggered against the wall, his head lolling down.

Juliette blinked. “Ro—”

She cut herself short. It had been a month since they first met by the Bund, a month of coming here to play with marbles, but they had not yet acknowledged who the other person was. There was no doubt that Roma knew—he knew she was Juliette Cai, heir of the Scarlet Gang, heir of the group that was his greatest enemy. All the same, they did not speak it.

“Hey,” Juliette tried again, stepping closer. “Are you okay?”

No response. Roma was looking to his feet, his hair fallen into his eyes, hand clutched around his shoulder. She didn’t think she had thrown that hard. What could it be? Paralysis in the nerves? Internal bleeding? The blood feud was going to be awfully happy if she accidentally killed the White Flower heir—

Juliette reached out with her hand. And faster than the blink of an eye, Roma grabbed her wrist, hauling her up against the wall until her back was to it and he had her boxed in, both of her hands pinned above her head. They were pressed close enough that it would be a scandal between any two kids in this city—and even more so with it was the two of them—but Juliette only loosed an irritated breath, vexed to be have been caught out in his charade.

“Still winning that cage fight?” Roma asked cheerily.

“Ugh!” Juliette tried to kick with her feet, but he only side-stepped, avoiding each strike. “You are such a sore loser.”

“It does not look like I am losing.”

“At marbles, you wet blanket.”

Roma laughed, the sound so warm, so all-encompassing that it trembled through his whole body. Juliette couldn’t help the grin that slipped onto her face too—that sudden flood of happiness, rare in a city slick with blood.

“Now look at that.” Roma released one of her hands from his grip, only so his own was free to grasp her chin lightly. “I count this as a victory.”

His touch was soft, and yet she felt it like a divine burning, like taking a drink directly from the sun. Juliette didn’t know what to make of any of that, so she simply wiped off her grin and batted at him with her free hand until he stepped away. There was a sigh in the wind, like the sigh of the world, displeased that this was how Juliette would choose to respond. But there was nothing it could do except blow a strong breeze that whirled around the two, darting through Roma’s shirt collar and ruffling it against the hollow of his neck, darting in and out of the pomade of Juliette’s hair, yanking just one strand loose from her finger waves. The two heirs stood there in stillness, simply looking at one another in curiosity, until the wind died down, and the moment passed.

Juliette picked up one of the fallen marbles. “Shall we play again?”

II.

Roma leaned against the bookshelves, his book resting against his knees. The cold tiling of the floor sunk into his bones, but he didn’t shift around, afraid that if he fidgeted it would make Alisa fidget as well, and she had only just gotten comfortable, reading from the book of world maps that he had picked out for her. With December rolling around and the start of the Western holiday season approaching, their foreign tutors had already stopped coming in to teach lessons. It had left Alisa bored around the house this week, so Roma took it upon himself to start hauling her around the city with him. When Roma was eight, as Alisa was now, he and Benedikt were already running around the borders of White Flower territory, slinking around the corners to investigate where the shootouts were happening. Give it a year or two and he was sure that Alisa was going to stop humoring him and find her own ways to spend an afternoon too.

The library suddenly boomed with sound, ringing with the echo of the heavy front doors slamming closed. Someone had entered, and the library was small enough—only ten or so shelves extending past the librarian’s front desk—that her heels clicked loudly on the marble. Roma could mark her progress as she walked, could mark where she hurried and where she paused, slowing to inspect the chandeliers dangling from the tall ceiling and the little jade statues decorating the hollows of the walls.

The footsteps finally approached the back of the library. Juliette Cai turned around the corner, offering no smile in greeting but instead a click of her tongue and a wink, which was somehow better.

“Hello, darling,” she said.

Roma blinked, heat rushing to his cheeks. A prolonged second passed, his heart pounding in his chest, before he realized with a jolt that Juliette was talking to his little sister, and not him. In fact, Juliette’s attention was only on Alisa, head ducked to coo at the little girl, hand reaching out to pass her a vegetable bun.

“Xièxiè!” Alisa shrieked gleefully, snatching the bag. She ran off immediately, scurrying off like an attic mouse to go eat elsewhere. Alisa never ate in front of people. It was such a strange quirk.

Juliette watched Alisa go with a glint in her eyes, folding her gloved hands in front of her.

“Do you think she’s going to remember in a few years how well I fed her?”

“Only if you keep feeding her,” Roma replied evenly. He was quite impressed that he kept his voice level, setting his book down next to him and calmly gesturing for Juliette to come sit. “She already calls you Bun Girl.”

Juliette snorted, closing the distance between them and dropping onto the floor too, so that she was seated beside Roma but facing him, her knees pulled up and pressed to the shelves instead. She was graceful even with such abrupt movements.

“I offer her a bun three days in a row and suddenly I am Bun Girl.”

“Well”—Roma couldn’t help himself. He reached out and ran a finger along the edge of her glove, fascinated by the lace hem, the delicate pattern pressed to smooth skin—“shall I give her your real name?”

Juliette tensed. She tried not to show it, tried not to react, but it was the subtlest change in the air, the darting of her eyes to his face, moving from relaxed to alert.

“And what would you tell her?” Juliette asked, testing him.

The truth was that Roma had known from the very first moment. He knew Juliette had discovered it some time later, after their first meeting, perhaps their second. She had made the active decision to come back and keep seeing him, but he had been looking for her from the beginning. Juliette Cai, heir of the Scarlet Gang, the terrible wicked thing with bloodlust in her veins, raised in the West to be as ruthless as a snake. Then he had rolled his marble at her and she had merely raised an eyebrow, a picture of stillness as the rest of the Bund hurried and bustled, and all Roma could think was, Hello, kindred soul.

“Princess of Shanghai, of course.” He withdrew his hand. “Nothing else would be worthy.”

Juliette’s posture eased. Just as Roma was pulling back, she leaned forward, setting her gloved hand on his shoulder. He felt the smoothness of the silk brush against his jacket, as starkly as if it were skin to skin.

“As ruler of this kingdom,” she intoned, “I hereby dub thee Sir Barnacles, Lord of the Garbagelands.”

Roma’s hand came up immediately, laid atop hers. “I heard they were in search of a Lady Barnacles too. Interested?”

Juliette’s lips parted, her eyes narrowing for a beat as she seemed to decide whether or not Roma was joking. A moment passed. Then another. Though the library remained humming around them, though the old antique clocks were ticking to mark time, though the first droplets of rain pressed against the stained windows outside, it was all distant and far away, of another world separate to the one only Roma and Juliette occupied.

Then there was a loud thud behind them and Juliette jumped, cursing under her breath and yanking her hand back. Roma, too, swiveled around, squinting through the gaps of the shelves with his heart at his throat.

“Hello.”

It was only Alisa, who had climbed a shelf and was now waving from the top, having thrown one of the books onto the floor.

“Christ, Alisochka,” Roma chided. “Get down from there, would you?”

Alisa squeed, running along the top. With a soft exhalation, Juliette got to her feet.

“I’ll get her.”

III.

Juliette held a hand up, trying to shield the sun from her eyes. It was mid-December, so it was strange for the day to be so bright, and strange to be rather warm too, the collar of her coat feeling too snug around her neck while she lay on the grass. She would be collecting stains on her clothes and gathering dust in her carefully curled hair, but she had no interest in leaving the park and going back home either. Under the beating sun, she only closed her eyes, hoping that a cloud would come eventually.

Her etiquette tutor had dismissed her for the day. Juliette had learned the lesson at record speed, and there was little use for sitting around the kitchen table wasting more time while Nurse lingered around her asking if she was hungry. It only stressed Nurse out when Juliette was sitting idle—but Juliette liked sitting idle, even if that seemed to be taboo in the Cai mansion, where everything was always moving, where something had to be happening. She liked observing, and thinking, and watching. She liked being a menace too, and driving Nurse up the walls when the woman tried to shove more food into her and all Juliette would do was put her nose in front of the bowl of rice and heave a deep, peaceful inhale.

Poor Nurse.

“What are you smiling about?”

Juliette cracked one eye open, turning her head to the left. The grass under her head bristled, the stout green blades tucking around her cheek. While she was flat on the cold ground, Roma was sitting against the tree, sharpening a pocketknife against a rock. The light hit him perfectly, so that his dark hair glowed slightly golden at the edges.

“The sweet, sweet sound of you sharpening that blade,” Juliette teased, sitting and propping herself up by one hand behind her. She tried to smooth out her hair, but the back was beyond saving. “Like music to my ears.”

Roma quirked a brow. He held the blade up, its edges glinting.

“A gift, then,” Roma said. “For you.”

Juliette rolled her eyes, pushing his hands back before he could give her the pocketknife. “Don’t be ridiculous. Only White Flowers carry pocketknives.”

If Roma hadn’t known about the Scarlet aversion to pocketknives, he didn’t show it. Or perhaps he did know, and had expected to have been declined anyway, offering for the sake of playing pretend.

“Some other day, then,” he said, “I will commission the best dagger in the city instead and carve your name upon it.”

Juliette winced. He had been doing this a lot lately. Inching closer and closer to their identities. Pushing through the bubble between them that contained only Roma and Juliette, letting in the shards and pieces that read Montagov and Cai instead.

A rustle came from afar, interrupting Juliette just as she opened her mouth. She would have tried to change the subject anyway, but her reaction now was genuine, her head whipping to the sound of intrusion. She had passed a construction team around a gazebo earlier, all of them hurrying onto their ladders and passing buckets up. It had looked important from afar, as if something on the gazebo was coming loose, only when Juliette walked closer, she saw that the buckets were filled with tinsel and the construction workers were merely decorating for Christmas. They had enough tinsel among them that the whole park would soon be covered in it, but Juliette didn’t think they would come into this area. It was usually unoccupied, surrounded by a dense cluster of trees. There was a pond that ran somewhere to the west, and a path that curved around the trees. No one came by unless it was a local nanny taking her foreign charges on walks, which was why Roma and Juliette came often, even when the grass was hard with frozen ice.

Juliette strained her ears. Now that she was paying attention, it didn’t sound like Englishmen installing tinsel at all.

“Are they speaking Russian?” Roma asked, listening too.

“It appears so.”

The more she concentrated, the easier it became to decipher the voices, until she realized it wasn’t because she was particularly good at focusing, but because they were getting nearer and nearer. Whoever was coming, they were directly upon the path that would wind into the clearing.

“We need to hide.”

“What?” Roma exclaimed. He folded his pocketknife, putting it away. “There would not be White Flowers on foreign territory like this—”

“I don’t think they are White Flowers.”

Juliette gave him a push without waiting for a response, sending him sprawling to the other side of the tree. Before Roma could complain or yelp in indignation, Juliette flopped right onto him and slapped her hand over his mouth.

“Bolsheviks,” she explained, her eyes wide. “I think they are Bolsheviks.”

They stilled, listening again. It was two men, discussing something about the Communist Party, who had only formed last year. Juliette had heard bits and pieces from within her own house, but certainly not enough to think it any big matter.

Roma squirmed, shaking her hand off his mouth.

“Dorogaya,” he hissed. “Can you let me see?”

Juliette gave him a pointed look, warning him not to be so loud. She relented, however, and eased her elbow off his chest, letting him twist just enough to peer around the other side of the tree. The two men were in view, dressed in Western suits. The style was similar to the sort Roma wore, but where Roma never had his jacket on, the front buttons of his shirts always undone, these men were stiff in their get-ups.

“…Voitinsky? …Comintern… cannot… next week.”

They faded from view, disappearing through the trees.

“Did you catch any complete sentences?” Juliette asked. She wasn’t sure if it was her vocabulary that was lacking, or if they hadn’t spoken very clearly.

“Something about the Party,” Roma replied. “I doubt it is anything we have to worry about.”

“Yes, well…” Juliette bit down on the inside of her cheeks, still running through what they had picked up. “I am worried nonetheless.”

“I know. You shoved me so hard that I am going to bruise.”

Juliette frowned, smacking a hand on Roma’s cheek. It was a light smack—a teasing one, if anything—but Roma still feigned pain, scowling. His hands came to her waist, fit snug around each side.

“I shall throw you off now.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“One, two—”

“No!”

“Three!”

He tightened his grip, his fingers pressing into the thick fabric of her coat. Juliette tensed, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing to be tossed right off and onto the grass, but nothing happened. When a few seconds passed and she still remained sprawled atop him, Juliette opened her eyes slowly, cautiously.

Roma looked entirely too gleeful. “Scared you, didn’t I?”

Juliette smacked him again, this time with both her hands on his chest, and with much more vigor. “Clown.”

IV.

Roma paced the length of his room, the letter scrunched in his hands. It was too sappy. Too orchestrated. Juliette would laugh at him if he gave her this.

With a huff, Roma stopped in the middle of his carpet, glancing at the letter again. It was Christmas Eve today, and the streets outside were abuzz with noise. Though few locals in Shanghai celebrated such a holiday, it was prime time for the foreigners to be throwing money around, and so the shops were pulling out all the stops, the markets slashing down their prices. He could hear the street-level bartering and bantering from here, albeit faintly as he stood surrounded by the uproar of his own thoughts.

Juliette, the letter started with. Though our families are at war, I—

Roma folded the paper up roughly, uncaring when the edges creased. He shoved his hair out of his eyes then turned a fast pivot on his heel, facing his mirror as if the other figure in the glass was Juliette.

“I am in love with you,” he declared.

It was only for practice, yet his face turned red nonetheless. This was ridiculous. He was fifteen. He could be more suave than this. Roma didn’t know much, but he knew that he had fallen too hard and he had fallen too fast. If he didn’t speak now he might never have a chance, because this city was brutal to dazzling things walking its streets, and Juliette was the most dazzling of them all.

“Maybe that is coming on a little too strong,” he muttered under his breath, bracing his two hands on his desk and leaning closer to the mirror. It wasn’t as if Juliette had ever indicated she felt the same. She was the suave one, the one who gazed back coolly anytime he was caught staring at her over a game of cards. She was the one who always held her composure when they smuggled bottles of champagne up to their rooftop meetings while Roma’s world turned bright and glittering, unable to stop gravitating around her.

Roma pushed away from the desk, blowing out a breath.

All the same, Juliette looked at him more fondly than anyone. Not his mother, and certainly not his father—although it wasn’t the sort of fondness that he would expect from his parents either. It was…

A light tapping came on his window. Roma jumped, thinking that it would be Alisa catching him fretting over the letter in his hands. Their bedrooms were high up on the fourth floor of White Flower headquarters, but his sister was prone to climbing the outside of the house, shuffling along a water pipe that ran just under the windows.

However, it was not Alisa sliding along the pipe and tapping to be let in.

It was Juliette.

Roma had to be hallucinating.

“Let me in!” Juliette whispered, her voice muffled by the glass. She wasn’t hanging from the walls like Alisa would, but leaning out from the window of the neighboring building. The apartments were built closely enough that when Roma came to open his window, Juliette clambered onto the windowsill of the other building and climbed over, hopping the space between two buildings easily like she wasn’t minding a gap from four stories high.

“What are you doing here?” Roma asked, flabbergasted. He offered a hand, and Juliette took it, landing softly on his carpet. “I thought we were meeting tomorrow.”

Juliette straightened, tossing her head so that her hat shifted back into place. “I was in the area.”

“You were in the area?” Roma echoed. “And you decided to enter enemy territory?”

Juliette wrinkled her nose. She never liked it when he reminded her that they were supposed to be enemies, as if he was manifesting the thought by speaking it too many times and it might come true one day.

“You don’t want me dropping in?”

“I never said that.”

“Hmm…” Juliette wandered about his room, peering at his bookshelves and his photo frames on the painted white walls. Roma still had not entirely grasped the situation. Juliette. Here. In his house. In his bedroom. Juliette. Here. Now. Plopping onto his bed.

“I am serious,” Roma said. Juliette had collapsed like a marionette doll, her shoes planted on the floor but the rest of her upper body splayed to the side, so he approached her and crouched too, bringing their faces near. “What are you doing here?”

Juliette propped her head up on one hand.

“My house got so loud,” she said quietly. “So many foreigners invited over for their little Christmas party. I could hardly hear myself think.”

Roma breathed a soft sigh, his heart twisting in his chest. Panicked as he was—over Juliette being here, over Juliette in general—he hardly hesitated before reaching out and smoothing a thumb along the curve of her cheek. Juliette immediately held out her arms, squirming against him until her chin settled in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, locking him into an embrace. No matter what they were, no matter what it was between them, they were comfortable enough for this at least: for a safe place to land and a shoulder to lean on.

A few moments passed. Roma wanted to close his eyes and stay like this forever. But, because this was a serious matter:

“There are other quiet spots in the city,” he said against her hair. “Quiet safe spots. The parks. The riverside. Anywhere but the White Flower central building.”

“I know,” Juliette replied, her words equally soft. “Maybe I just missed you.”

Roma was going to start bawling, right here and right now. He wasn’t built for so many feelings.

Fortunately, before he could, Juliette pulled out of his arms, then frowned, tilting her head.

“What is that in your hand?”

Oh, no.

“Nothing,” Roma answered, at the same time that a sudden knock came on his door. The sound drove such alarm into him that he bolted to his feet, all the blood rushing from his head. His vision flashed white for a second as he shoved the letter into his pocket and marched to the door, stepping directly in front of it in case someone was about to open it and find Juliette Cai in his room.

“Who is it?”

“Me,” a voice that sounded like Marshall said. “Come on, we need to go.”

“Go?” Roma echoed. “Go where?”

“Can you open the door?” another voice asked. His cousin, Benedikt. “We are needed downstairs.”

Roma spun fast on his heel.

“I hate to do this,” he whispered to Juliette, “but you must leave.”

Juliette folded her arms. She was feigning annoyance, but there was also amusement sparkling in her eyes, her shoulders too relaxed to have any true irritation. “You will toss me out on the streets?”

“Yes, it is a better option than getting caught here.”

A huff, then Juliette hopping to her feet. “Fine, fine.”

While Roma reached into his wardrobe, finding a new jacket so it didn’t seem like he was keeping his friends outside for no reason, Juliette walked to the windowsill again, clambering up and readying to duck back out.

“Wait! Roma!”

Roma startled. This was the first time he had ever heard his name from her lips. It was beautiful. He never wanted to be called anything else again. Not Roman, not Montagov. Just Roma.

“What?” he asked, his pulse rocketing. Was there something he had forgotten to hide? He didn’t know what he could possibly have in his room that would give away his friendship with the Scarlet heiress, but still he searched in a panic, glancing around at his feet.

“No, come here,” Juliette hissed, still balanced precariously on the window ledge, her hands clutching the frame.

“What?” Roma asked again. He rushed in front of her. “What is it?”

Juliette brightened suddenly with a grin and leaned in, her hand touching his face and her lips pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was so quick he might have imagined it; he would have thought so if the spot weren’t humming with sensation, the imprint of her mouth buzzing like an electric shock.

“You are trying to get me killed,” Roma whispered, breathless.

Juliette didn’t respond—she merely blinked innocently, and then she was gone, hopping the gap again and climbing through the other window. Soon as she disappeared, Roma drew his curtain tight, afraid that he had somehow left evidence all over the glass, and with his heart thudding in his chest, he went to open his bedroom door.

“Okay, we may go,” he said. “I needed my jacket.”

Marshall turned on his heel immediately, starting down the hallway. Benedikt, meanwhile, stared at Roma a second longer.

“What is that on your face?” his cousin asked, frowning.

Roma touched his cheek. It came back smeared with red.

“Blood,” he lied without hesitation.V.

Juliette was freezing cold, but she was the one who had set their meeting place today, so she really only had herself to blame as she hovered around the alley, trying to burrow her neck into the fur of her coat. She had given Roma enough grief yesterday by showing up to his house, she figured she wouldn’t wander around now in case he could not find her when he arrived.

The air was so frigid that it hurt a little to breathe. The foreigners in the concessions were in peak festive mode, so the streets echoed with ringing bells, the nearby churches pealing with sound every hour on the hour. Every storefront she passed had been decorated with wreathes and mistletoes—over-decorated, if you asked her. She hadn’t celebrated Christmas even when she was in New York, so she certainly would not start in Shanghai, even if the whole city seemed to be caught up in the fervor today.

She didn’t think Roma celebrated either, until she turned around and saw him approaching, a gift box in his hands.

“What is that?” Juliette asked, her voice accusatory. “You didn’t say we were getting Christmas gifts! I would have gotten—”

“It is not a Christmas gift,” Roma interrupted before Juliette could start prattling all the various items she knew Roma would like. “It is a birthday gift.”

Juliette blinked. “My birthday was October 15th.”

“Your Lunar calendar birthday. I calculated. It is today, is it not?”

Juliette thought for a second. “Oh. Oh, it is.”

Roma was already opening the gift box for her, revealing a string of pearls. Before Juliette could speak on how beautiful they were, he had already looped them around her neck, pulling the clasp tight and then stepping in front of her again, adjusting her coat so the pearls fell inside, protected from the cold.

Juliette stared at him, her jaw agape. She needed to crane her neck ever so slightly because Roma was taller, but Juliette was sure she would catch up—Nurse kept saying she had yet to hit her growth spurt.

“What?” Roma asked, catching her staring.

“Thank you,” Juliette replied, her eyes wide. “You did not have to—”

“We are not finished celebrating yet.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her along. “Come on, I have just the place.”

Juliette followed wordlessly, at a loss for what to say. They ran through the streets, bursting into laughter when a tram pulled up fast ahead of them and drove into a puddle, almost dousing Roma in dirty water before Juliette yanked him quickly onto the pavement. Another few streets later, a rickshaw driver almost collided with Juliette when she dashed onto the road too fast, but Roma picked her up just in time, plonking her back on the sidewalk while Juliette gave an adrenalin-filled screech.

Eventually, they arrived before a jazz club, but they didn’t enter through the front. Roma eyed the building carefully, then when the patrons around the door all disappeared inside, he tugged on Juliette’s hand again and pulled them around the side, entering through a tinsel-covered back door and trudging up a set of stairs before anyone could see them.

“Are you cold?” Roma asked, holding the rooftop door open for Juliette.

Juliette stepped through, feeling the wind slap against her face. Strangely, she was not. “I’m okay. How did you find this place?”

The walls of the rooftop were low, only raising up to her knees when she wandered over to look out at the city. From below, the music of the jazz club was loud enough that every beat was audible: the twang of the strings and the dizzying rhythm of the piano. This wasn’t like any of the other rooftops they had hidden out on. This one had some strange quality to it: the flooring was a little too clean, the view a little too nice. The city stretched on before them, twinkling with daytime lights as people spilled onto the streets with hot drinks in their hands and others hurried home with shopping bags overfilled in their arms.

“Asked around. Did some research.”

Juliette turned around, arching a brow at Roma. He sounded rather cryptic, but he was grinning.

“Research? Of what kind?”

Roma waved her off, then held his hand out.

“Dance with me?”

A little white fleck settled onto his palm. Juliette looked up, and suddenly found more to be falling from the skies, drifting hazily down on them. It was snowing. It was snowing, and the music beneath their feet roared even louder, not fit for the slow sort of dancing, but Juliette didn’t care. She took Roma’s hand, and let him draw her close.

“You may confess now,” Juliette said. “How long have you been planning this?”

Roma’s grin only grew, letting them sway utterly off-beat with the string tunes and rapid tapping rhythm.

“I missed your October birthday.”

“We hadn’t met yet.”

“Nevertheless. It was inexcusable to let that slide.”

“Meaning…?”

“A while, dear Juliette,” Roma finally answered, his eyes crinkling. “I have been planning a while.”

Juliette felt her breath catch in her throat. She didn’t know how to express the emotion that swept through her. It was only that she looked up at Roma and could feel time shudder to a halt around them. It was only that every time she looked at Roma, she didn’t want to stop looking; she wanted to sit down beside him and bid him never to leave her, to listen to him talk forever and ever and ever.

The music suddenly hit a lull below, the instruments falling quiet. The two of them followed suit, their swaying paused, but Juliette did not step away. Roma brought his hand up from her waist. While Juliette watched him, he brushed a finger along her cheek—slowly, so slowly that Juliette’s heart started to pound, before he showed her the eyelash that he had retrieved, and Juliette sighed a soft “oh,” not sure why she was disappointed.

He had been so close. She had thought…

“Make a wish,” Roma said.

Juliette smiled, trying to cover her momentary dejection. “A birthday wish or an eyelash wish?”

“Both. Why not?”

“Okay.” Juliette inclined her head up at the skies. She couldn’t see any part of the blue afternoon under the heavy cover of the clouds, but she imagined the falling snow to be falling stars instead, burning white-hot onto the world. “I wish—”

She didn’t finish her sentence. Because then Roma was kissing her, his lips softly captured over hers, his hands to either side of her face. Juliette rose up on her toes immediately, her eyes closing and her arms twining around his neck. She could feel the snow landing between them, falling in little cold droplets in her hair, on her hands, on her coat. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in that moment except the feeling of Roma’s mouth on hers, keeping her warm from her very soul.

They broke apart slowly. A breath passed between them, a secret missive that revealed everything left unsaid, though there was hardly anything to be said when a kiss fulfilled it all.

“Are you cold?” Juliette whispered, her eyes fluttering open again. Roma was already looking at her, looking in awe, his gaze wide and reverent.

“Why do you ask?” he replied. A snowflake landed on the bridge of his nose, melting as delicately as artwork.

Juliette touched her fingers to his, to the soft grip he had upon her. She couldn’t hold back her quiet laugh. “You’re trembling.”

He tried to still his hands. It did not work. It only delighted Juliette more and more when he could not stop trembling, so Roma gave up trying to pretend to be dignified, wrapping his arms around her instead and spinning her around until they were both dizzy and delirious and giggling.

They came to a stop. Juliette cupped a hand to his face, right on the red flush that had risen.

“I’m sorry,” Roma said breathlessly. “I interrupted your wish before.”

“No, you didn’t,” Juliette replied. She gave a pleased sigh, then leaned in again. “You finished it perfectly.”

THE END

#chloe gong #foul heart huntsman #foul lady fortune #secret shanghai #our violent ends #these violent delights #last violent call #secret shanghai finale #secret shanghai series #juliette cai

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queenlucythevaliant · 1 year

Text

Professor Kirke remained at the small dining table after the last of the dishes had been cleared away, puffing clouds on his pipe. It was strange, thought Lucy: he had a faraway look in his eyes, as though some tiny aspect of his reality had shifted over dinner and he was struggling to accommodate it.

“I wonder what he’s thinking about,” murmured Lucy to the others. Edmund shrugged and Eustace (who had only met the professor that night) said nothing, but Peter chuckled merrily and patted Lucy on the arm.

“You’ll find out soon enough, that’s certain. He got that look in his eye when you were talking about the Island of Dreams, Lu. No doubt he’ll call you into his study for a lesson later on.”

It was a little more than a week later that Peter’s prediction came true. Professor Kirke seated himself across his desk from Lucy with an enormous tome of poetry spread out before him. “Have you heard The Rime of the Ancient Mariner?” he inquired.

Lucy shook her head. Yet rather than muttering about the state of the schools as she had expected, Professor Kirke simply smiled beneath his whiskers and began to declaim:

“It is an ancient Mariner /And he stoppeth one of three —"

Lucy leaned back in her seat and fixed her attention on the words as best she could. Once, she’d spoken in such a register as queen of Narnia, but now she was only a girl of ten and unaccustomed to the flowery language of Romantic poetry.

“At length did cross an Albatross,

Thorough the fog it came—”

“Oh!” cried Lucy. “Is that why you wanted me to hear this poem?”

“Just so,” the professor replied. “Your account of the Island where Dreams Come True bears a marked resemblance to The Rime, beginning with the presence of the albatross. In this poem, the albatross bears a symbolic connection to Jesus Christ himself.”

“How peculiar!”

“I thought so too. Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote this poem in 1797, in a time when sea voyages to the polar regions were very much like your own voyage to the end of the world. The albatross had only lately been described in writing, but he wrote it coming out of the desolate fog to guide sailors to safety. And Coleridge was a neo-Platonist! Fog and ice are very much like darkness, the way he uses them here.”

“A neo-Platonist?” Lucy asked, wrinkling her nose.

And now came the Professor’s customary muttering. “Yes. What do they teach in these schools? You may read darkness and fog both in Coleridge as something between ignorance and innocence, with the Sun as a symbol of Reason. Does that make sense?”

“A little,” said Lucy, who privately didn’t think it made much sense at all but was eager for the professor to continue the poem.

“It ate the food it ne'er had eat,

And round and round it flew.

The ice did split with a thunder-fit;

The helmsman steered us through!”

Lucy hadn’t meant to interrupt again so soon, but the words were out of her mouth before she was really aware that she’d spoken them. “So it really is just like in Narnia! It guides the ship out of the ice like my Albatross guided us out of the darkness.”

“Yes.” Professor Kirke was entirely unperturbed by the interruption. “Precisely.”

“How lovely. Isn’t it interesting how you just know when birds are trustworthy?”

The professor chuckled. “You may change your mind in a few stanzas. Shall I go on?”

“Please.”

Lucy returned to her concentration as the mariner recounted how a good wind had sprung up after the Albatross and how it had stayed with the ship and perched on the mast sometimes for evening prayers. Yet the mariner must have looked unhappy, for the groom interrupted to ask him why.

“With my cross-bow/ I shot the albatross.” Professor Kirke paused here in his telling and looked very hard at Lucy.

It took her a long moment to understand. “The albatross isn’t dead, is he?”

“He is.”

“I thought you said he was like Aslan.”

“And didn’t you see Aslan die?”

Lucy opened her mouth, but closed it a moment later. Open again, “But why did the mariner kill him? Doesn’t he give any reason? The witch killed Aslan because she was evil and trying to conquer Narnia. Why would the mariner kill the albatross when it’s done nothing but help him?”

“Perhaps,” the professor replied, “the Gospels are a simpler comparison here. ‘I shot the albatross’ has the same kind of blunt irrefutability as ‘And they crucified him.’ There isn’t any excuse, which I think makes the confession all the more powerful.”

Lucy sighed. It was exhausting trying to keep this all straight. “I suppose that makes a kind of sense. But then we’re trying to think on three different levels of parallel—the poem, the Bible and Narnia—which isn’t very pleasant.”

“And yet, it’s necessary if one wishes to understand deeper meanings. We can pause for tea, if you’d like?”

“No, that’s alright. I think I’m keeping track well enough for now. I say though, is this what you do with Peter all day?”

The question seemed to catch Professor Kirke off guard, for he let out a sudden, loud burst of laughter as soon as Lucy asked it. “Yes, after a manner of speaking. Shall we go on?”

“Ah! well a-day! what evil looks

Had I from old and young!

Instead of the cross, the Albatross

About my neck was hung.”

It was a difficult thing to imagine and Lucy wondered if Aslan’s albatross was unusually large. Aslan was always bigger than she expected him to be, so it would not be strange if he took the form of an unusually large albatross. Yet the more Lucy considered, the more sense the image made.

“It must have been at least three meters,” said Lucy. “The albatross, I mean. Mine was more like four, from wingtip to wingtip. It would be a dreadful weight, but I suppose that’s the point. The mariner can’t carry it, can he?”

“I think you’re right,” said Professor Kirke.

A smile tugged at Lucy’s cheeks. It was lovely to hear the professor give such an unequivocal endorsement of her analysis. Galvanized by the success, she continued, “I thought of a cross when my albatross appeared out of the darkness. There’s something in the proportion of the body to the wings, and in its stillness of it as it glides through the air. My albatross tore away the darkness. But here—it’s like the mariner carries his albatross like he thinks that act can save him from what he’s done.”

There was a glittering in the old professor’s eyes then, and suddenly Lucy realized that she wasn’t struggling with the poem’s language anymore. Maybe it was because she’d been listening to it for the better part of ten minutes, but privately she wondered if Narnia’s magic might be working on her somehow. Perhaps this poem contained some quality of the rich Narnian air.

“I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;

But or ever a prayer had gusht,

A wicked whisper came, and made

My heart as dry as dust.”

Lucy shut her eyes and remembered the fighting-top of the Dawn Treader. The night-mare life-in-death was a black abyss, and all her own nightmares had been there in it. There had been monsters, of course, and the idea that even if she ran down to stand beside Edmund he might become a monster himself. But somewhere in all that dark, there was a Lucy who never spoke to Aslan again. She’d imagined herself in Lord Rhoop’s place, trapped forever in a state of endless fear-without-courage, because she could not call him.

“That was my night-mare too,” she whispered. “Not being able to pray.”

She saw the professor’s lips thin beneath his whiskers and wondered at it. “You’re wiser than you have any right to be,” he murmured. “Ten years old and your greatest nightmare is alienation from God. What a marvel you’ll be when you’re grown.”

Well then. Lucy didn’t have any notion what to say to that. She half expected that if she tried to reply, she might start crying.

“Might I ask—what did you do then? Until the albatross arrived, once you realized that you couldn’t pray. How did you react?”

And that was a question she could answer.

“But I could pray! I did. I whispered, ‘Aslan, if you ever loved us at all, send us help now.’ And that was when the albatross came. I didn’t talk about it after—it was too much my own for me to share it, really—Edmund knows—but well…”

The professor made a sort of choked noise in his throat. “Perhaps it was the only nightmare that the island couldn’t bring true.”

“But there have been times,” continued Lucy, “when my heart was too dry to speak with Aslan. There were whole years when I was queen that he didn’t come at all.”

It was with a much softer voice that Professor Kirke resumed his reading.

“A spring of love gushed from my heart,

And I blessed them unaware:

Sure my kind saint took pity on me,

And I blessed them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray;

And from my neck so free

The Albatross fell off, and sank

Like lead into the sea.”

Here, the professor lapsed into silence. Lucy thought that the poem might be over, but when she peered across the desk at the page there were columns of stanzas still left.

“Even after all these years,” he whispered, “some things still remind me of my own days in Narnia.”

He’d told the children his story before, of course: beginning with how he met Aunt Polly and concluding with the origins of the wardrobe. Aslan had not condemned him for bringing the White Witch to Narnia. Instead, he’d had loved Digory enough to shed tears and sent him home with an apple so beautiful that it healed his dying mother.

“Grace,” Lucy whispered into the hush. “Of course. Maybe this is the moment where Aslan leads the mariner out of the darkness.”

Professor Kirke exhaled heavily. The faraway look in his eye lessened a little bit, and at length he read on.

“The spirit slid: and it was he

That made the ship to go.”

Never had Lucy felt Aslan’s presence more keenly in his absence than during those last days as the Dawn Treader had sailed over the still, clear waters at world’s end; like Aslan himself had been drawing them towards himself by some great, invisible rope.

The closer they’d come to his country, the more tangible his spirit had been. When at last she glimpsed those green mountains beyond the waves, Lucy’s very bones understood that Aslan had made the still seas bring them there.

A voice spoke out of the air concerning the mariner, and Lucy remembered the piercing silence of the Last Sea. Of the voice, the mariner said, “He loved the bird that loved the man/ Who shot him with his bow.”

Not for the first time, Lucy wondered about Aslan’s father, the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. What did he say to Aslan when he left that land of high mountains to return to Narnia and die at the Witch’s hand? What did he think when Aslan went flying across the lily-covered seas on feathered wings to rescue their little ship? If Lucy had crossed that final threshold with Reepicheep, would she have met the Emperor there?

“The voice is his father,” Lucy said, voice brimming with certainty. “The albatross’s father, I mean. The Emperor-beyond-the-Sea.”

“I know,” the professor replied. “And beyond the sea is just where our mariner meets him.”

“Do you think the mariner knew that the albatross loved him?”

The professor stroked his chin again, and a ghost of a smile played across his features. “If the mariner didn’t know it when he shot him, he certainly knows now. But come, we’re nearly at the end of the poem.

“Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,

Yet she sailed softly too:

Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze—

On me alone it blew.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed

The light-house top I see?”

“There’s one more thing I haven’t told you,” Lucy said. “Something so bright and mysterious that I’ve not even told Edmund. When the albatross came, it—it spoke to me. And I wasn’t afraid anymore.”

Professor Kirke leaned forward, but his words were, “You needn’t tell me what he said if you’d prefer not to.”

Lucy nodded slowly. Somehow, she knew that if she tried to describe “Courage, dear heart,” she would fail. There was nothing, no word or image or music or poetry in this world or any other that could convey what that moment had been. To speak of it at all would be like dancing about architecture.

“I was the only one who heard him,” Lucy whispered. “It was my prayer, and he spoke to me. I wonder how this poet knows what it was like?”

“I think he knows the same way I do, in my own way. Coleridge lived a difficult life. He was a laudanum addict when he wrote this, for one thing. When the Divine voice speaks into our darkness and we feel his breath on our faces, it binds us together with every other person who has ever been rescued by an albatross that loved us. We don’t know what he says to other people, but we know how the breeze feels.”

The professor returned to his reading and concluded the poem while Lucy sat in astonishment and let the strangeness of the last hour wash over her.

“…A sadder and a wiser man/ He rose the morrow morn,” and with those words Professor Kirke shut the book. The heavy pages fell with a thud, and with bright eyes he looked at Lucy. “What do you think of it?”

“I think,” said Lucy slowly, “that it was a beautiful story. The very best kind.”

What she did not say, but what she was thinking, was that it reminded her of the story she’d read in the Magician’s book: the one about the cup, the sword, the tree, and the green hill. The two tales had no common points of reference, but they left her with much the same feeling.

“But why do you think Aslan came to me as an albatross?”

Professor Kirke harrumphed. “I have been asking myself that same question ever since you spoke of it. Why indeed? I wonder whether perhaps in part he appeared that way so that you would come back here and read ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,’ and come to know him better by it. If nothing else, I do not think it was a coincidence.”

Yes, perhaps, but the answer still felt incomplete. “Maybe it’s a stone in the bridge he talked about,” Lucy said. “Maybe he only wanted to show me—to show us—that he’s here too. In this world, in this time, and in all others. Maybe it’s like you said, and there’s an albatross for every person who’s ever been rescued from the darkness.”

#i have wanted to write something like this for a loooooong time #but kinda felt like i wasn't up for the challenge #i'm off for a few days so i finally got it in 'good enough' shape though i'm far from being totally happy with it #hopefully it will make sense to people who haven't read The Rime #though it was written with an assumption that at least some cultural osmosis will have gotten to folks #i go absolutely crazy for the way that Jack incorporated the albatross from Rime into VDT #it is so darn elegant #he both upholds and subverts the symbolism of the original #i love love love love it #and i wish someone would assign me like an actual academic essay on the topic #in the meantime we'll have to get by with literary analysis just barely couched in narrative #dear darling heart-daughter of aslan #the magician's nephew no longer #into light #(courage dear heart)#narnia #leah stories #pontifications and creations #also! i just cross-posted to ao3 if you'd rather read this there #i know it got pretty long #(and i skimmed over a LOT)#intertextuality #characters within a work notice the intertextuality #if this makes your brain hurt a little bit i think i did my job right

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sunniebabe99 · 2 years

Text

The Reincarnation - 3

Summary - Y/n is moved to the Executor.

Warnings- Darth Vader needs some therapy maybe.

When Darth Vader returned he was met with the sight of the woman asleep on his bed. He walked in, the door closing behind him. The only thing that could be heard was his breathing, which he hated.

He moved to the bed and watched her. Taking in the details of her face and the way her hair fell on the bed. She looked peaceful. But images of Padme seemed to flash in his mind. Her smiling, laughing and also…the form of her tomb, which carved a familiar image of her laying with a peaceful look of slumber on her face. He gently moved a gloved hand to her face and moved a lock of hair away. He froze when she started to stir. Turning to her side and facing away from him.

He took a step back and with a wave of his hand he used the force to wake her. She sighed and laid there. Almost not wanting to get up. She dreamt she was home fixing bouquets of flowers with her mother and grandmother. It was a simple dream but it made her happy.

She sat up and then froze when she was met with the sounds of Darth Vader's respirator going off. She turned around and looked at him. Trying her best not to show how scared she was.

"You are being moved, get up" he said in his cold voice.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked as she stood up. Fixing her clothes and standing there, not wanting to come any closer to the man.

"It is not of your concern" he said as he moved to the door.

"Of course it is my concern! You guys are the ones who took me and I have a right to know where I am going! I have my rights as-" she was cut off as Vader turned to her.

"Your rights were gone as soon as you decided to sympathize with those rebel scum. You are nothing but a prisoner being transported to another cell..be grateful that I don't kill you now" he said to her.

She went quiet and looked to the floor. Her heart beating fast in fear that she pushed the dark sith Lord too far.

"Now come" he said and waited for her. Outside there was a standard guard waiting with cuffs. She tried her best not to fight them as they took her hands and closed the cuff on her wrists. She was nudged Infront of the trooper as Vader took the lead. She looked around and had no idea where they were headed. They pass uniformed men and women and storm troopers who would pause to salute Vader and would give her dirty looks.

Soon they made it to a large opening. The hangar was still as busy as it was when she had first arrived. Y/n squinted at the sun beating down on them. She looked down as her eyes adjusted to the natural light and then saw a ship ahead of them. It was much more advanced looking than most of the ships she was carried in.

"Get in rebel scum" the trooper said as the ramp lowered down and opened up for them. Darth Vader moved watched as she moved into the ship. He then stopped the storm trooper.

"Your services are no longer required here."

"Yes Lord Vader" he said before saluting and leaving the area to get back to wherever he was stationed.

Y/n looked back and watched as Vader joined her in the ship. The ramp closing behind him. With a flick of his hand the cuffs were taken off. She looked at him confused and rubbed her wrists.

"Why did you-"

"They are of no use when you have little to no force sensitivity. Even if you tried something I could easily disable you with a gesture of my hand" he said and had an irritated edge to his voice.

"How do-"

"Silence, enough questions, your voice is an annoyance to me" he said as he moved to the cockpit. Y/n sat there and felt her anger rise as she watched him. She huffed and looked away. Sitting down at the co-pilot seat. there was no other place to sit. She was quiet as he worked the ship. She looked out the tinted windows. Watching as the ship started to take off. She started to realize that they weren't just traveling to another part of Coruscant as the ship rose above the atmosphere. She gripped onto the chairs arms and tensed as they flew off into space.

Vader could feel her anxiety as he piloted the ship.

"Relax…we haven't even gone into hyperspace yet" he said and flipped two switches.

"Hyperspace? I've never even been off Coruscant before!" She said as she closed her eyes. Trying not to freak out as the cold of space set in on the ship.

"You will become used to it." He said simply. Glancing over to her for a brief moment before focusing on flying.

They had finally gotten into hyperspace. Y/n looked at the window in surprise..seeing nothing but bright blue as they traveled.

She shivered slightly. Finally feeling the cold getting to her.

"Here.." he said and stood up. Grabbing a spare blanket from the small storage compartment and giving it to her.

"Thank you…" she said to him as she wrapped herself in the blanket.

Are you alright?…

It's very cold.

You are from a warm planet Ani…space is cold.

Vader snapped out of it and looked away from her shivering form.

"Space is much colder than I thought it would be," she muttered softly. Vader did not reply as he looked into the blue space void.

"I know you said not to talk…but I can't help but need answers" she said to him. Vader clenched his fist.

"Then ask before I change my mind" he said to her.

"Why did you take me away from that place?" She asked him. She didn't understand why suddenly she was being taken away from the relentless interrogation that was fruitless. She didn't know anything about the rebellion. She was just at the wrong place and wasn't careful enough.

"I was given orders to interrogate you myself and I have other duties to attend to. Don't think of yourself as special because of it" he said to her.

Y/n looked at him and felt her annoyance rising. She was tired of him talking to her in such a manner. It made her angry and she wanted to yell and scream. But she didn't. She sat there and held the blanket close to her as they finally came out of hyperspace.

Vader could obviously feel her anger. He didn't know how else to speak to her. Every time he tried to speak, his words would come out harsh and cold. A side of him just wanted to cast her away, she was an imposter…but then the other side. The one sliver of Anakin Skywalker was clinging to the idea that the Force gave his wife back to him.

Y/n's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the large ship as they came out of hyperspace. It was the largest ship she had ever seen in her nineteen years.

Vader piloted the ship onto the hangar deck. Troopers awaited him and stood in line to welcome him with an older man standing at the head of the line in his officers uniform..

Vader stood up and hit a switch the ramp.of the ship they were on lowered. He waited for her patiently as she got out of her seat. She stood next to him and felt his gloved hand rest on her shoulder as he nudged her to walk. She was scared, though for some odd reason she felt a bit of comfort in the way Vader touched her shoulder.

"Lord Vader, I am pleased to see you back." The commander said as he walked with Vader down the line of troopers who saluted them.

"I will be taking the prisoner to my quarters. No one is to disturb her. Only I am allowed to access her and question her, and have a medical droid come as soon as possible. Is that clear commander?" He said getting straight to.the point.

"Yes of course Lord Vader" he said with a bow.

Y/n made sure to try and memorize the halls as they walked down them, each one slightly looking the same until they reached a set of doors. They opened up with a hiss and inside was a very large room. A similar camber in the corner of the room. She looked around and then jumped slightly hearing the doors close behind them.

Vader removed his hand from her and watched as she moved around the room. Taking in its sleek dark walls.

"So this is my cage" she said with sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"You should be grateful you aren't in a holding cell" he said to her as he walked up to her.

"I'd rather suffer than share a room with you" she said. She honestly did not know where she suddenly found her courage as she looked at the masked man.

"Then I can happily see to it you are thrown into the darkest cell we have" he said back to her. She faltered and felt a twinge of fear come back as she did not doubt his words. They stared at each other until Y/n could not stand it anymore and looked down.

The medical droid entered the room just in time. She looked at the droid and then at him questioningly.

"Do not resist it" he said to her as it came over.

"How many I assist you Lord Vader" it asked in an airy tone.

"Run diagnostics on the female as well as a blood sample" he said as he moved to.the side to watch..

"Hey-" she was cut off by the droid moving to her.

"Please hold still" it said as it began to scan her and check her over.

"Scans indicate the subject has been subjected to short bursts of electrical energy. She has also not had nutrients in three days. I recommend she be fed small nutrition meals until she can stomach a full one" the droid said out loud before taking her arm and taking the blood sample..Y/n looked away not wanting to see the needle. She had always been a bit squeamish with them.

"I will run the sample through the database and come back with your results Lord Vader" it said as it turned away to look at the Lord..

"Good. Also run test 236 as well. Send me the results as soon as possible" he said to the droid before it went and left the room.

Y/n rubbed the patch on her arm lightly feeling a dull ache from where the needle was injected.

"I will have food brought to you soon. Until then you should rest" he said to her.

She looked over to him and gave him an unreadable look. Vader looked back at her for a moment. And then left the room. Locking her in there and leaving her alone yet again. He paused his back to the door. Almost wanting to go back in just to be with her. But then continued to walk away and attend to his duties.

Y/n stood there and looked around the empty room. It was larger and seemed to be where Vader spent most of his time.

Yet the bed looked unused just like the last one. She moved to the large shut window and clicked a blinking button near it. It opened quickly to reveal a sight that made her gasp.

Beyond the window was the vast land of space. Dusted with beautiful stars. Not a planet in sight. The beauty of space reflected in her eyes as she took it in. She felt her emotions get the better of her…of course it was beautiful. But it also made her realize that this was the farthest she had ever been away from home. She was in the middle of nowhere in space. Trapped inside an imperial ship with no idea how long she will be kept alive for…

She was scared and unconsciously projected it out from her entire being. Vader froze slightly as he stood at the bridge. Looking out at the vast image of space as he felt her fear. It made him clench his fist as he fought himself. He fought the urge to go to her. The image of a pregnant smiling Padme clear in his mind.

Ani I love you...Ani...

He shook his head. Trying to clear his mind of the ghost that haunted him.

Part 4

#star wars #fandom writing #anakin skywalker #fanfiction #padme amidala #darth vader x y/n #darth vader x reader #darth vader #The reincarnation

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

sweaty hands, reluctant hearts

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 13685 (god this wasn’t supposed to be this long I’m actually sorry this time)

Warnings: Angst and Smut (my fav). Hurt/Jealous Mando -> Touch Starved/Rough Mando -> Fluffy Mando -> Shy Mando. Penetrative Sex. Oral Sex. There’s lot’s of sweat because exertion yall. Breeding Kink 😏. Slight Exhibitionism. Overstimulation and slight slight non-con because of oversensitivity. Umm, squirting 🙃. Dirty/Sweet talk. Spanking (ass and hoohaa).

Summary: He never thought the day would come when he’d hear you saying you wanted to leave him. Yes there was an understanding between the two of you that you were hired to help him care for the Child and to somehow keep the Razor Crest alive and working. And he knew it made sense for you to find work elsewhere now that the Razor Crest was destroyed and the Child was with his own kind. But he just assumed you weren’t going to leave considering it’s been a couple of months since he’d given the kid to the Jedi and you never brought it up. It hurt hearing you say those words, especially when he realized he wasn’t meant to hear them and that you were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people. Turns out, all Mando needed was to see the Marshal eye-fucking you as you fixed the new ship and overshared your thoughts for him to snap and finally make a move. Hopefully he can change your mind...

A/N: Yall, this is post Season 2 so sadly Grogu is not here, hence the angst! Umm, this was a lot to handle because you know, that gif here. Enjoy ☺️

It’s been months since the events that transpired on the cruiser. Months since he’d given away a piece of himself to an unknown being. Months since he’d sat down and re-evaluated his life’s mission. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen to return to Tatooine of all planets but he needed some time to think of his next steps. So much has changed over the course of the past year and it took the Mandalorian longer than usual to realize that he can’t use bounty hunting to fill the void in his heart.

One thing he did know for sure, however, was that he couldn’t have managed to survive the emotional and physical changes without your presence. Somehow, you’ve managed to make his life easier and by a whole lot. He has never felt this grateful for having a companion, maker, didn’t even think it possible to ever consider another as such. He’d spent years and years living by the Creed and never once doubting his way of living, but he found himself questioning everything about himself when you came in. It wasn’t that he was suddenly open to the idea of taking his helmet off or anything, it was more of a passing thought on what it would be like if he were to open up to you more, perhaps even share with you more than his name and an abridged version of how he became a Mandalorian.

He mulled over how he would approach the topic with you, finding himself growing more nervous when he considered how you’d react. You’ve never given him any inclination of ever thinking of him as more than your boss and he knew he needed to figure out a way to make this seem natural and not forced. Frankly, he found it interesting how you managed to read him better than anyone he’s ever met, and he wished he could ask you how you’d done so when he never took off his helmet.

Mando pushed the thought aside for now, cursing to himself as he dragged the giant piece of scrap you’d requested for him to pick up from Peli. He wanted to argue with you then, tell you that the only reason for coming to this awfully hot planet was to take some time off, if that was even possible, and avoid falling into the temptation of another mission. But he couldn’t find it in himself to say any of these things, mostly because you were the one that managed to procure the new ship for him and you were also the one that told him the two of you were in serious need of rest. He’d only realized the ship needed fixing when he landed and you told him you would get right on as soon as he picked up the necessary pieces from Peli. He felt a little out of the loop when he’d gone to her and found her giving him everything you’d requested for, and he knew you must have contacted her before you landed or else she wouldn’t have been this quick.

As he made his way through the quiet “streets” of Mos Pelgo, he thought back to what Peli said to him an hour ago. Had he not considered her as a friend, he would have responded rudely when she bugged him about you. As much as he wished to humor the idea that you looked at him as more than a colleague, partner, whatever it was the two of you were, he didn’t want to grow any more false hope, especially now that he’d already given up the one thing that managed to crawl into his heart.

Mando saw that you’d moved the ship behind the cantina and he chose to blame the heat for the way his skin crawled with goosebumps because no, he didn’t suddenly feel calm at the thought of you.

He shook his head from the intruding thought and was about to say something to you when he saw who was standing nearby. If there was ever a time where he didn’t wish to see Cobb Vanth, it was definitely now. The bounty hunter put down the scraps of metal before moving closer to where the two of you were standing. He was sheltered behind a shack of sorts and allowed his heart rate to return to normal before listening in on you.

“I don’t believe you sweetheart.” The Marshal threw back his drink and shook his head when you shrugged your shoulders at him and Mando felt his stomach twist at the endearment. Since when were the two of you on such a close basis?

“Believe whatever you want Marshal, I was only answering your question. Besides, it’s not like I’m actively looking right now.” Mando watched as you swiped the sweat rolling down your face with the back of your hand and swore when he felt the fabric of his pants grow tighter around his crotch. He felt dirty watching your every move, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the way your muscles gleamed under the excruciating sun rays. He cursed the day you bought that garment and he recalled back to the first time he watched you work in it. Mando had almost tripped over the child that day because he never expected to see you walking around with the chest binding so visible to his eyes. It was worse when you reached up high for something because if his eyes lingered long enough, he could see your undergarment peeking from the low-hanging pants of the overalls.

The bounty hunter had to take a few deep breaths to move on from the inappropriate thoughts he was having and he narrowed his eyes at Cobb when he saw him walk closer to you.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” The Mandalorian watched as your expression shifted slowly to a more sombre look and he was familiar enough with you to know that you weren’t too happy with that question or the answer you were going to give Cobb.

“I- I don’t know. I wish I could tell him about how I fe- what I’m thinking about but I can’t...and I also can’t just say ‘Hey Mando, I had a blast taking care of the kid and getting hunted by the kriffing Empire. I fixed the ship for you so see you later.’ It’s not right and I didn’t realize it would be this difficult to come to terms with what I have to do. But I can’t keep doing this, it’s not fair.”

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, that certainly didn’t make the top of the list. He almost fell back when he registered the meaning behind your words. You wanted to leave. You’ve been wanting to move on for a while and you weren’t sure how to tell him. You were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people and relying on his opinion to decide what you were going to do. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind and he tried to see if he’d done anything wrong. Besides the whole thing with Gideon and Bo Katana, there wasn’t really anything he’d done that would inspire such a reaction from you. Not that those weren’t enough to change your mind about staying with him but it was all in the past now.

The sound of laughter broke Mando out of his haze and he turned towards you again, watching as you slithered down the ship, clenching his fists tightly when he saw Cobb grab your hips to help you down. He was torn between strutting towards the two of you and punching the daylights out of him and remaining where he was to listen in on your conversation. He had no right to do either, but he needed to know.

“I hate to ask you this question because it defeats the whole purpose of this entire chat but...have you thought of how he’d take it? Should you decide on-” You pointed to something on the floor and Cobb leaned down to grab it for you, handing it and gauging your reaction to his question as you continued to work.

“Why else do you think I’ve been putting this off? Of course I’ve thought of how he’d react. But I deserve more than...ugh, I don’t mind this, I swear I don’t, but I also can’t just sit back and pretend I don’t want more.” You motioned violently to the ship and to what you were doing as you spoke, shaking your head at the man smiling smugly in front of you before throwing out the tools and snatching his drink from him.

Mando couldn’t stand to be near you, not after what he’d heard and certainly not after taking in your body language and the way Cobb was practically undressing you without shame. He stepped back, leaving the scraps where they were and heading to the cantina to take his mind off of what he’d just witnessed. He walked in and paid no mind to the patrons scattered across the room, handing the man behind the counter more credits than he cared to count and asking him for his strongest stuff. He didn’t bother to address the judgmental stare he was receiving and took hold of the bottle before walking out again.

It was close to sunset and the Mandalorian walked until the edge of the town before deciding to continue until he reached a small hill filled with large boulders. Sliding down one of the rocks, he sighed deeply before taking off his helmet, the hissing sound instilling a sense of guilt deep in his chest. He was ashamed at feeling such an emotion towards what he based his entire life on. But he couldn’t take it anymore. His anger rose as he opened the large bottle in his hand, throwing it back until he felt the stinging drink burn his throat for a few seconds before aggressively setting it on the floor next to him.

Mando wasn’t able to put what he was feeling into a proper string of thoughts but he did know it was an odd mixture of hurt and anger with a tiny bit of sexual frustration. He couldn’t get the image of you sweaty and heaving as you worked on his ship out of his mind, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back to meditate back on the way your muscles clenched and pulled every time you molded two metal scraps together or how they positively shined when you carried things across the sand. He’d tried his hardest to set all of these feelings and rather inappropriate thoughts aside but he couldn’t any longer. Not when there was a chance of you leaving him, and perhaps to someone like the Marshal too.

Perhaps it was unwise to deny his heart’s desires for so long and Mando was sure that he’d met his breaking point because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Normally, he was able to distract himself and force his mind to stray away from conjuring up the filthiest images of you wreathing and crying beneath him as he drove his cock into your heat. But he had no hold over his mind at this moment, not that he was to blame. He went from shutting his own self out to opening the floodgates, and there was no going back.

He sighed heavily when his thoughts shifted to what you said about him and he took a long sip from the bottle before turning his attention to the setting suns. He didn’t know what he could even say if you ever approached the topic with him. You’d been wanting to leave for a while now and somehow managed to hide it from him. All those nights spent running from Moff Gideon and other bounty hunters and you haven’t complained once, choosing to keep it to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was hurt because you felt the need to hide something like this from him or because you were awfully understanding of how these complaints could distract him.

And then there was the whole thing with the ship. He had assumed that the two of you sort of shared it now but it seemed that you never saw it as belonging to you but only to him. And you went out of your way to fix it now when you didn’t have to. Mando didn’t notice his tears until he licked his drying lips and tasted the saltiness across his mouth. He wiped his cheeks and laughed at himself. When had he become like this? First it was the child and now you.

He wished he could take it all back, to have never met the kid or you. His life was simple and not complicated and now, now he was faced with the prospect of losing you as well. The bounty hunter dismissed the thought as quickly as it came because he knew deep down that it was better to have had the two of you in his life, even for a short while, than to have never known you. It wasn’t ideal but since when was his life ideal?

As the suns set beneath the sky, the Mandalorian looked down and saw that the bottle was still almost full. Not wanting to finish it now, because he might actually need it later when you decide to leave, Mando stood up and slowly made his way back into town. He needed to sleep, not to rest but to put a pause on his rather depressing thoughts if only for a little bit. When he saw the town come into view, he took a deep breath and put his helmet back on.

The town was quieter than usual and the Mandalorian found himself going straight to the ship instead of joining the others. He’d spent the past few days enjoying his nights in the corner of the busy cantina, watching as you won one Sabacc game after another without breaking a sweat while everyone groaned in annoyance at how well you were kicking their asses. But he couldn’t trust himself tonight, not around you and certainly not around the Marshal.

Trying not to bring too much attention to himself, Mando walked past the cantina towards the ship, already thinking of how relieved he’d be once he used the refresher. Going up the ramp, he was about to walk to the small, private room near the cockpit to grab a change of clothes when he heard a loud shriek that sounded a lot like his name coming from the opposite end of the ship. Mando quickly turned around and shut his eyes in exasperation when he saw you approaching him far angrier than he’d ever seen you. He set the bottle down and turned his attention towards you, raising an eyebrow to himself when he saw your chest heaving beneath the chest band. He averted his eyes quickly, refusing to think of you sweaty and breathless under other circumstances. Maker, he couldn’t go no like this.

“Where in the kriffing hell have you been? You were supposed to bring the parts from Peli hours ago and I have to find out from some kid that you just left them on the ground and walked away to- hell, I don’t even know what was more important for you than bringing me the scraps so I could fix the ship? Really, Mando, I understand that it’s been a little weird and difficult lately but I barely ask for anything and, ugh, maker.” You held back from voicing more of your thoughts, afraid that you’ve already gone far with asking him where he was. He didn’t really need to tell you what his business was but you’d assumed the two of you have come to an understanding regarding such matters, at the very least to ensure everyone’s safety.

Mando stood there in silence and took a deep breath before turning around and walking into his room, afraid he’d give himself away if he tried to respond to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration when he quietly walked away from you, anger rising in your chest as he came out and made his way past you to the refresher. Before you could think twice of what you were doing, you were sprinting past him and standing in front of the open door, pushing your fingers into his beskar-clad chest as you hissed at him.

“I’m not sure what happened or why you’re giving me the silent treatment right now but this is not how we deal with our problems okay.” Mando took a few steps back as you continued to shove your finger into him, trying his hardest to not grab your wrist and push you against the nearest wall. “We talk things out and we come up with a way to fix things and compromise if need be.” Mando’s back hit the wall, and he threw his head back to avoid your gaze, unable to hold back the chuckle that rose from beneath the helmet at your words.

How ironic.

“Did I say something funny?” You narrowed your eyes up at him and wished for once that he’d remove that god damn helmet so you could gauge his reaction.

“You mean we should talk things out like you and Cobb Vanth today? Or would it be different?” Mando’s chest tightened when he noticed the surprised expression on your face, knowing very well this was not what you expected to hear from him. He was a rational man, never once letting his mind give away to such simplistic thoughts but you’d struck a nerve and he could no longer hide his jealousy. Yes, it was jealousy. As much as he hated to admit it, that’s what he was feeling right now, what he’s been feeling all day long. It was childish and unlike him but it wasn’t going to do him any good if he continued to ignore it.

“I’m dying to know if that’s what you mean. You obviously don’t have an issue telling him about how difficult it’s been working with me and how you can’t keep doing this.” It was your turn to take a few steps back when you saw his shoulders push out and make him taller than he already was. He continued to walk towards you, throwing his clothes to the ground and almost apologizing when you tripped on your feet when he was only a foot away from you.

“How about this, let’s start with what you apparently wish you could tell me but can’t seem to find the right words to do so. What was it you said to him? You deserve more than taking care of a kid and constantly escaping the Empire and other bounty hunters? Or wait, how can I forget...it’s not fair dealing with this mess of a ship and you’re looking for somewhere else to go?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as the Mandalorian repeated back the words you voiced perhaps a little too loudly earlier today, already feeling your eyes fill with unshed tears at harsh his tone.

“I- I didn’t…you weren’t meant to-” You tripped over your words and almost flinched when he cut you off.

“What? I wasn’t supposed to hear you say any of those things? A little strange don’t you think, since you seemed to have a lot to say about me to the Marshal.” Mando should have stopped himself from saying the next few words but his heart was torn into a million pieces and it wasn’t fair for him either.

“Well guess what, sweetheart, the Razor Crest blew up. Moff Gideon is taken care of and the Empire isn’t after us anymore. Every bounty hunter knows better than to so much as look at me and...and the kid isn’t around anymore for you to take care of. He’s gone, I lost him. So if you were worried about hurting me, you’re a little too late for that.” The Mandalorian barely held himself back from pulling you into his arms when he saw tears rolling down your cheek, clenching his fists tightly when he noticed the way you hugged yourself and frowned at him.

“Din-” It broke him to hear you use his name, especially now of all times. He hasn’t heard you say it once in the past few months, even when the two of you were alone. It was the twisting of the knife, and he bit his tongue to distract himself from saying something he couldn’t possibly take back.

“Do what you want, I won’t stand in the way. Besides, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help you out with whatever it was you were telling him today. After all, you deserve more right? Deserve someone more than me...someone who’s willing to share a lot more than his name.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Mando stepped away and walked back to his room, not caring about the clothes on the ground or how hurt you must have been feeling from listening to him.

He softly shut the door behind him and moved to his bed, throwing himself on it and hanging his head low to catch his breath. This was not how he saw the night going, not remotely. He was hoping to ask you about this tomorrow in a less hostile manner and without making it seem like he was blaming you. But something about your words struck a nerve in him and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, not when you were suggesting things you yourself weren’t willing to follow.

Din wasn’t sure how long he sat there in silence but the hissing sound of the door opening brought him back from his haze and he opened his eyes when he heard you walking towards him. You’d never once come into his room, not even when he occasionally gave you permission. You sniffed twice before approaching the bed and standing right in front of him and he was reminded of when the child would cry to try to catch his attention.

“Din, it was never my intention to hurt you. I was trying to do the opposite..thought I was doing the right thing by thinking about this before I could talk to you but I’m realizing now that I’ve hurt you.” Din noticed the way you were ringing your fingers nervously and held himself back from taking your hands into his to try and put you at ease.

“I- I only spoke with Cobb because he- because he noticed the way I was looking at you. He noticed how I can never seem to focus on anything or anyone else when you’re around. He- he could tell I was having a hard time coming to terms with how I feel about you...how I’ve felt about you for a while now.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your confessions, unable to properly register what you were implying because he could never even humor the idea that you’d have feelings for him. He raised his head and finally looked at you, frowning when he saw how red your eyes were from crying.

“The last thing I want to do is to leave you, please believe me. But I wasn’t sure if you even wanted me around after...after everything with Moff Gideon and the Jedi. As far as I knew, you brought me on to take care of Grogu and fix the Razor Crest. We’ve barely spoken ever since the cruiser and I just thought that I was only around because you couldn’t find the time to tell me that you don’t need me anymore.” Hearing you say that you thought he didn’t need you caught Din off guard and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, instantly taking hold of your hands and pulling you towards him until you were standing in between his legs. You swallowed the lump in your throat and maintained your gaze on his visor, hoping that he could see how truthful you were being with him and maybe respond, if only with just a simple word.

“When I said I deserved more, I was just- I swear I wasn’t talking about your Creed or wanting to see you. As much as I wish that was possible, I would never...could never ask you for something like that. I was only telling him that I might need some time away to maybe forget how...maker, to perhaps try and set aside my emotions because the last thing you need right now is for me to lay that on you. I don’t want you to think that you owe me anything because you don’t, gods you don’t owe anyone anything, not after what you’ve been through. But I could feel myself becoming more attached to you, especially after everything that happened on the cruiser. I want more with you but I don’t want to push you towards anything you’re not ready for.” Before you could wipe the tears away from your cheeks, Din was raising his glove-covered fingers and softly skimming them over your skin, and he hadn’t realized how harsh and loud his breathing was until he felt you rest your hand on his chest.

“There’s nothing between me and Cobb. And you should know by now that he’s...friendly, with everyone.” You smiled shyly at him before leaning into the hand resting on your cheek, nuzzling further into his palm when he swiped his thumb against your lower lip. There was so much Din wanted to say but he couldn’t find the right words that would convey what he was feeling. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind about your admission and the fact that you have been returning his affection for a while now.

Din didn’t realize how long he was quiet until you cleared your throat and let go of his hand, stepping away from him and looking around to see if you should just leave. Before you could head to the door, however, Din was standing up and moving towards you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort before he made his next move. Your chest was rising and falling a little quicker than he liked but he quickly realized it was probably because of how you were coming to terms with what you just said to him.

You watched as he took his gloves off and set them on the small table behind you, suppressing a gasp when you felt his warm, calloused hands wrap around yours before bringing them to his helmet. He could tell you were letting him control all of your movements and found it difficult to accept just how much you were willing to give to him.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I have been thinking about this for a while.” Din smiled when he saw your eyebrows furrow in question at his words. “Taking this off.” He saw the moment you understood what he was saying, not expecting you to pull your hands away from him and taking a few steps back until your back was against the wall.

“That’s...that’s not what I- Din, I wasn’t lying when I said it wouldn’t matter to me if-” He smiled at how defensive you suddenly were and stepped towards you once more, and you found it annoying that he barely kept a foot between you two, his natural scent hitting you like a blaster to the gut.

“I know.” Din cut you off before taking your hands into his once more, rubbing your knuckles to put you at ease as he continued. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and- it’s not that I’ll walk around without it now, far from it. It’ll only be when we’re alone, when no one is around.” He hoped you could read in between the lines because this would be the closest he’d come to admitting how important you were to him, for now at least.

“Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

That definitely snapped you out of your haze and you tilted your head to the side before asking home what he was referring to.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Din raised an eyebrow at your response. Have you already forgotten?

“On the cruiser, when I- before Grogu went with the Jedi.” His hands tightened around your fingers as he said the child’s name and you were momentarily distracted before realizing what he meant.

“Din I...I never saw you.”

For a split second, it felt like someone had taken Din and carbon froze him before throwing him on an ice planet.

“What?” He held his breath, unable to move a muscle until he made sure he heard you correctly.

“I never saw you. I turned around when you reached for your helmet. I didn’t...it was a moment with you and Grogu. It didn’t feel right to look at you.” You tried to maintain a semblance of control on your voice but it cracked a few times as you admitted to him. As much as you yearned to see him without the mask, you didn’t think it proper without his clear consent.

Din’s sudden intake of breath made you nervous and you hated how for a moment, you wished you didn’t tell him because there was now a high probability that he wouldn’t take the mask off.

“Cyar'ika, please.” you shivered at the low tone of his voice, finding it harder to focus on anything but the touch of his skin. Once again, Din slowly brought your hands to the sides of his visor, pushing the palm of your hands on the beskar and softly nodding at you. A sudden sense of relief washed over him when he saw the slight nod of your head.

Din found it endearing how your whole face scrunched up in focus as the two of you slowly pulled the helmet off of his head, the soft hissing sound as it unlocked making your hands dampen with sweat. As you raised the visor along with him, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes as soon as you saw the skin of his chin. Unbeknownst to you, Din was watching your every reaction and felt a little nudge in his chest when he saw how tightly shut your eyes were. When the beskar was off completely, Din took it from your hands and placed it next to him, swallowing the lump in his throat when he turned back and saw you were still refusing to look at him.

He reluctantly took your hands into his and placed them on his chest, hoping that you’d finally open your eyes without him begging you again.

“I’m sorry I- maker, this is..this is probably more intense for you than it is for me and I’m not making it any better with my nervousness and- okay. Okay.” You took a deep breath before allowing your eyes to flutter open, unable to exhale as soon as you laid your gaze on him. Din was probably unaware of how nervous he looked and it took you a few longer seconds to realize you needed to breathe again. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, the long nights where you imagined what he could look like fading into thin air because nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared you for what you were currency seeing.

His features were somehow soft but a little rugged, and you found yourself committing every inch of his skin to memory, filling your mind’s eye with every minute facial expression so you could dream of him when you fall asleep. It was oddly not surprising at all that he had a stubble, the scattered dark and slightly graying hairs across his jaw and above his lips making him seem older than he probably was. And you weren’t sure if he knew he was furrowing his eyebrows and then you realized he most likely didn’t because he was so used to wearing his helmet that he never had to learn how to control his facial expressions around anyone. And it was endearing how his nose flared as he continued to breathe heavily under your gaze, and if it weren’t for the fact that this was a serious moment, you would have leaned over and kissed the curved bridge of his nose and the scrunch of his eyebrows to put him at ease.

Din wasn’t sure what he thought your reaction would be and he felt his chest tighten with every long moment you spent without so much as a comment.

You were unaware of how long this dreadful moment must have been for the Mandalorian and you continued to study him in hopes of finding answers to questions you’ve wished you could ask him ever since he hired you. There were heavy bags under his eyes and you wished you were more persistent with him when it came to his resting schedule but he always seemed to wave you off whenever you told him he needed to sleep. Though you knew this stress had to do more with Grogu no longer being here and less with how often he slept. You had half expected to find his gaze harsh and far off but when you did finally meet his eyes, you found them filled with unshed tears and a multitude of emotions that you knew would go unexplained until he had the strength to voice them. They were a deep and beautiful shade of brown, ones you knew you’d never be able to turn away from now that you’ve had a proper look at him. And you couldn’t help but notice how their color reminded you of a Nightbloomer just after you picked it from its roots.

All of that, however, could not compare to when you finally let your eyes descend to his lips. They were a darker shade of pink, and you swore you saw them parting as soon as you looked at them. His lower lip was trembling and you wished more than anything to swipe your thumb against it if only to feel the soft skin melt at your touch. You wished that was as far as your mind had gone but the longer you looked at the curve of his mouth, the more you wished you could lean forward and mold your lips with his. It was even worse because you had a feeling that the stubble of his mustache would cause the softest of burns on your lips.

Din could no longer take the loud silence enveloping the room and he swallowed nervously when he saw how focused you seemed to be on his lips. He had some idea of what you were probably thinking because he was thinking the exact same thing but he wasn’t sure if he should be the one to make the first move. This reluctance evaporated when he noticed the way your eyes instantly moved to his neck as the cartilage moved and returned to rest when he gulped, and he realized that you may have been having slightly more inappropriate thoughts than he originally thought.

He was about to voice his worries when he saw your hands move from his beskar-clad chest to his face and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down apprehensively at the digits moving closer to his skin. You misunderstood his nervousness for uncomfort and immediately ceased all movements, returning your focus on his eyes to look for any inclination as to what he wanted.

“Can I- mhmm, may I touch you?” Your whispered question was too loud for the two of you and Din parted his lips to say something but noticed how dry his throat was and realized he couldn’t trust his own voice. Nodding slightly at your request, he waited with bated breath as your fingers rose to his face and found himself shaking with anticipation at the prospect of finally feeling your touch on the most intimate part of him.

When you were only a few inches away from him, Din felt his heart thumping wildly at his chest and he immediately shut his eyes when he felt the feather-light touch of your fingers on his cheeks. The harsh yet shaky intake of breath almost made you lose control and you had to remind yourself that, besides Grogu, you were the only one to ever touch him so intimately and so softly since he was a child. As much as you wished to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you could lay as many kisses on his face as you could, you knew it would be too much for him and that he needed you to go slow with him. He was practically shattering under your attention and you hoped he would allow you to do this as many times as possible in the coming days.

Din couldn’t put a name to what he was experiencing at the moment but he knew he didn’t want you to stop touching him, ever again. He decided that he’d spend every moment with you alone without his helmet and with yours hands skimming some part of him. The longer you kept your palms on his cheeks, the calmer his heart beat and it wasn’t until a few moments later that he realized his eyes were shut. As they slowly fluttered open, he was met with the most beautiful sight in the world: your own deep irises staring at your own thumb as it softly passed over his quivering lips.

“You’re...beautiful.”

It was a simple truth and you wished there was a more sincere word you could use to describe what he was to you, what he meant to you but your mind was overflowing with images of waking up next to him every day and kissing his eyes and cheeks and nose and lips and anywhere else you could reach.

Din’s hold tightened around your waist and you watched as he leaned forward until there was barely an inch between the two of you.

“Mesh'la, I would really like to kiss you.” The request barely passed his lips yet you were already standing up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his, finding them as soft and gentle as you imagined them to be. Din was afraid his heart would give out any moment now because nothing could have prepared him for the taste of you, let alone the boldness with which you were claiming him. He sighed into you, unintentionally parting his lips and pushing you harder into the wall when he felt your tongue sneak into his mouth and explore him. Din wasn’t sure what he should be doing but then you were moving your hands to the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers into his hair and he all but lost it. As you gently tugged on his hair, Din found himself mirroring your actions and before he knew it, the kiss was no longer innocent and sweet but hungry and needy. You sucked on his tongue and tilted your head to the side, wanting to commit every small detail to memory so when you shut your eyes at night, you’d kiss him in your dreams.

Reluctantly, you pulled back for a second to allow the two of you to breathe but Din didn’t like that, chasing your mouth and molding his lips with yours once more to be certain that yes, this was happening, and that no, this was not a dream. You moaned into the kiss, finding his desperate need to claim your mouth again more of a turn on than you cared to admit. And then his hands were slipping inside your overalls and holding you against his chest, the warmth of him stretching down to where you wished you could feel him.

This sudden intrusive thought and the harsh grasp of your hips snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should be slowing things down for his sake. Against your will, you gently pushed his chest away and tried to think of anything but the way he was heaving above you from the intensity of the kiss. When you looked at him and saw panic and hesitation etched on his face, you returned your hands to his cheeks again and lowered his head until it was resting against your own.

“There’s nothing I want more than to feel every inch of your skin against mine right now...but- but I don’t want to push you to do something that- maker….that might be too much for you?” You pulled back and waited until he opened his eyes again before continuing. “I feel like you just made a dramatic decision by taking the helmet off in front of me and- and you’re probably feeling a multitude of emotions right now and I don’t want to make you think that I-”

Din didn’t like what you were saying, frowning down at you as he grabbed the back of your neck and violently pulled you towards him again. You were surprised by the sudden shift of his touch, fisting your hands in his cowl as he devoured your lips once more, not really giving you a chance to say anything else. Biting your lower lip, Din abruptly ended the kiss and pressed his lips across your skin, nipping and licking at your jaw as he pulled your hair down until he had access to your neck. You gasped his name and felt his stubble scratch deliciously at your shoulder. As you moaned against the wall, Din couldn’t back anymore and bit down hard on your shoulder, smiling when he heard your breath hitch at his rough ministrations.

“Din, oh gods, Din please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him exactly and you hoped he’d at the very least continue what he was doing.

“Cyar'ika, I want to have you. I’ve spent many nights dreaming of your lips, your touch, y-your skin against mine as I-” Din hesitated and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers slipping beneath the chest band that you finally registered his voice. Fuck, how had you not notice it a second ago? You thought the vocoder was what altered it, made it deeper perhaps. But no, it only made it sound more intimidating. You weren’t sure what made you clench your thighs together, the way he spoke to you of his desires, or how strained and gruff his voice was as he whispered his secrets to you. You gulped loudly and hesitantly met his eyes, finding the soft brown irises barely visible, his dilated pupils letting you know what he was thinking.

Licking your lips, you nodded at him and fell into a fit of giggles when he leaned down and picked you up as if you weighed nothing, quickly moving to his cot and laying you down on your back before moving away. You were about to ask him what he was doing when you saw his hands swiftly move through the beskar armor. For some reason, watching his hands expertly take off the cuirass and move to the beskar of his thighs made your heart skip a beat and you wouldn’t dare move a muscle, afraid to miss the show he was unintentionally putting on for you. So busy marveling at his deft fingers, you didn’t notice Din slowing his movements and looking at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity when he saw how hard you were breathing.

You broke out of your trance when you saw he stopped moving, embarrassment washing over you when you realized Din had caught you shamelessly staring at him as he came closer to revealing to you more of his skin. You’d expected him to move on, or at least pretend he hadn’t just caught you licking your lips while staring at his fingers but no, it seemed that Din was very much enjoying the effect he had on you because his smile grew when he saw your eyes look past him, pretending to focus on something else behind him and not his hands.

You never lost his attention though, and he maintained his eyes on you as he removed all of his armor and took his boots off. You tried to be a little more subtle but gave up when he leaned down over you and pushed you into his covers. You wanted to ask him why he was still dressed but bit back the inquiry, afraid he’d misunderstand and move away all together at your question. He captured your gaze and didn’t blink once as he slowly undid the buttons holding the overalls and you realized you would have preferred him to keep the helmet on because that meant you wouldn’t notice how passionate and direct his deep brown irises were. You’d expected him to be intense considering how touch-starved and lonely he was, but you never once thought he’d be this vigorous? Ardent? Maker, there wasn’t a single word that could describe the way he was looking at you right now.

Din kneeled at the foot of the bed, waiting until you finally noticed what he was doing and raising your hips before he pulled on the pants of the garment. He slipped your shoes off and finally removed the article of clothing that made his cheeks blush and pants tighten whenever you wore it. He would eventually tell you that this is how you came to him in his dreams almost every night, all spent and sweaty in that gods-forsaken fabric that gave him the perfect view of what you were wearing beneath.

His focus shifted from your face down your damp skin and he breathed in deeply at the sight of your undergarment. Din almost choked on his breath when your legs parted for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the growing wet patch at the center of the flimsy material.

The Mandalorian wanted nothing more than to worship your body, kiss every part of you and whisper his devotion against your skin as he pleasured you over and over again. He’d spent countless nights imagining what he’d do to you if you were ever naked and willing in his arms and he was damned if he didn’t make sure you were thoroughly spent once he was done with you. He wanted to hear his name fall from your lips and he wanted to swallow your sighs and your moans as he sank into you all night long. And by the gods, he wanted to mark your neck and your arms and your waist, and nothing made him harder than picturing you doing the same to him, biting and nipping at his skin so he could wake up in the morning and watch the evidence of your lo- your touch on him. It didn’t matter that no one else would see those bruises but him and you. He just wanted you, in any way possible, sinking beneath his skin.

And then he heard his voice calling for you over the comm link just outside the room and something snapped deep in his chest. He looked up from you to the open door of his room and listened to the Marshal’s words. Your eyes widened in shock when you saw several emotions pass through Din’s eyes, the most prominent of which was anger, maybe hurt. Of all the times Cobb would ask you to join him for drinks, this was most definitely the worst of them. It didn’t help either that he was laughing over some inappropriate joke one of his friends was saying about your sabacc skills. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but then Din was clenching his jaw tightly before looking down at you and you knew he wasn’t too happy. In fact, you had a pretty good idea which emotion won out and you hated how much it affected you, how wet you became as thoughts of the Mandalorian claiming you as his flooded your mind.

Before you could try and reason with him, attempt to tell him that it was just a game and that the Marshal’s friends were probably just teasing him, Din was standing up and stripping of his long-sleeve shirt, revealing his perfectly chiseled, bronze skin that had your mouth watering within moments. You noticed the few dozen scars littering his beautiful torso and wished you could kiss each one of them, the old ones and the fairly new ones, until they didn’t sting with pain. But Din had different plans for you and he didn’t give you a chance to question him as he took hold of both of your wrists and slammed them above your head. His hold was painful and it should have scared you how quickly his mood changed but you said nothing, looking into his dilated pupils as his nose flared and he growled at you.

“Keep yours hands there,” Din warns you with a piercing look and you gulp loudly before nodding at him in understanding. He removes his hand and kneels on the bed, eyes narrowing at you before they sought after your most private areas. He wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d given this much thought but now that he was here, he realized it was a more difficult decision than he anticipated. He’d longed to wrap his lips around those hardened peaks always teasing him through the chest band, lick them until you cried for him, perhaps begged him to stop because you were sensitive. But then he continued down the lines of your navel and found your parted legs much more inviting.

Now that Din knew how you felt, there was no reason for him to feel jealous. But he couldn't stop himself, wanting to be certain that you knew as well as he who you belonged to. He hated himself for having such primitive thoughts about you. You were your own person that much was made clear early on. But he could hope at your words, couldn’t he? He could hope that you were now his, and that he was yours. Maker, he was always yours. He just couldn’t admit it to himself, his heart reluctant at opening up to another.

Din was lost in thought longer than you liked and you moved your feet towards him, nudging his thigh in hopes of reassuring him that you were right here, in his bed, beneath him and at his mercy. Din’s eyes focused on your again and he looked down at the soft gesture, hands instantly grabbing at your ankles. You jumped at the sudden movement, trying your hardest not to whine at the painful grasp because somewhere deep inside of you, you wanted nothing more than to be marked by him. By his teeth, lips, fingers, any part of him. You didn’t care where you’d bear his touch, you just wanted to see it, touch it in the privacy of the refresher when he wasn’t around.

Din saw the needy look you were throwing him and he knew that you were willing. Willing to go as far as he wanted, willing to completely submit your body and soul to him, willing to do whatever he wished of you.

Before your eyes could flutter closed, Din was pushing your legs wide open and falling in between them while maintaining his gaze on you. He almost smiled when your stomach shook at how feral he probably looked. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes as his mouth latched onto the wet patch forming on the soft fabric of your undergarment, moaning into your cunt as he savored the taste seeping through. You were surprised by the boldness of the action and wished for him to lick your skin instead. But there was something erotic about the desperation behind his actions, wanting to taste you so much that he didn’t care what he was licking.

The thought was gone as soon as it appeared because you felt two fingers stretch beneath the waistband right before he ripped it off of your body, shoving the torn fabric in his nose and taking a long whiff of it before humming in approval. Your eyes widened in surprise at the filthiness of his action, hands shaking above you when he threw your panties expertly into his helmet. The thought of knowing that your scent could potentially stick to the inside of his helmet as he walked around twisted your insides and you whined shamelessly at him, wishing he could just take what he wanted.

“Your sounds belong to me,” Din spoke with a commanding voice as he sank in between your thighs again, his tongue dragging across your folds so deliciously hard until he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva behind. “Your arousal belongs to me,” his hands went to your thighs and he squeezed, knowing fully well there would be bruises dawning your beautiful, smooth body the following morning. Again, you fought to keep your eyes open, wanting to commit every second to memory but finding it difficult to focus on him and not the pleasure zapping down your back. “And I will be damned if this cunt,” Din let go of one of your thighs, pulling his tongue away from your core right before the palm of his hand landed a slap straight on your clit, “doesn’t belong to me either.” You cried out his name, legs shaking violently at the pain shooting through your clit. Din didn’t give you a moment to relax back down on the covers, spanking the outer folds of your pussy twice more consecutively before he replaced the harsh touch with his cooling tongue. Tears trailed down your cheeks as he fucked you with his tongue and lapped at you like you were the only source of water on this gods-forsaken planet. He rotated between soft, quick licks to long, harsh ones, occasionally sucking on your clit and grazing his teeth on the bundle of nerves until he was sure you were going crazy.

“D-Din oh maker, please. Stop I- slow down.” His touches were far from gentle and the pleasure blurred into pain as you tried to reach that delicious peak you’ve longed for ever since you harbored feelings for the man above you. But he was making it difficult, his needy and erratic movements making it near impossible for you to dive into the lake of pleasure. You should have known that the Mandalorian was as intense in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life. You shut your thighs around his head, wanting to push him away as his teeth continued to graze against your wet folds and nip at the pulsating nub.

“M-Mando...I can’t.” You couldn’t take it anymore, hands moving to his hair and fisting in the beautiful brown locks as you tried to push him away. As soon as Din felt the tight grasp on his hair, he snarled at you, pushing up on his knees and bending your body along with him until the only thing resting on the bed was your neck and your shoulders. You cried out for him, begging him to give you release but it only drove him mad with lust. His eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away from him as his fingers dug into your butt cheeks and pushed your cunt into his mouth.

Din pulled away for a split second, biting your inner thighs to grab your attention.

“You will take what I give you ner Cyar’ika.” You saw a hint of darkness in his soulful brown eyes, and shivered at the mere implications of what he had in mind for you. Din sucked and licked at your folds like a crazed man, feeling your legs shaking on his shoulders. He pulled away for a second, and you had no time to beg him to be gentle as he slapped your heated core three times again, hissing when you shut your eyes and bucked against him, your juices drenching his face and chest, leaking down your back as he smiled before taking your cunt into his mouth one last time to prolong your pleasure. You were too busy trying to remain sane to realize what had just happened and Din slowly lowered you back onto the wet covers before letting go of you. You were panting beneath him, stomach fluttering from the force of your release and chest heaving as you tried to fill your lungs with air.

When you opened your eyes and looked at Din, your eyes widened in horror when you saw his glistening skin, finally realizing what he'd just done to you. You flushed under the scrutiny of Din’s gaze, gasping as he wiped his mouth and jaw with the back of his hand as he looked down and chuckled at the wet spot beneath his knees. You quickly shut your legs and tried to crawl away from him but Din was faster, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back to him, the show of strength already making your cunt clench around nothing again.

“You do not run from me Ad’ika...nor hide from me ever again. I own your body, your skin, the cum still leaking out of this sweet cunt.” His words were filthy and you didn’t know how to react to this new possessiveness he was showing. He pushed open your thighs and fell in between him, bringing his chest flush against yours and kissing the breath out of you, not bothering to be gentle as his fingers twisted and pinched at your nipples. You clawed at his back, wanting more of him but not knowing if you would be able to take any more of what he was offering.

He pulled away suddenly, his jaw clenching tightly as he took one look at the hands wrapped around his back.

“Did I not tell you to not move your hands sweet girl?” He whispered against your lips, breathing in the air leaving your lungs as he pecked the corner of your mouth before flipping you over on your stomach.

“I- I’m sorry...it was just t-too much and-” You couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence, screaming against the covers as you felt Din’s palm land on your ass. You looked back and saw him eyeing your reddening skin, looking up at you and smiling as he treated the other side with the same kindness. Four more times his hands smacked your ass and you were ashamed at how aroused his violent actions made you. When he snuck his fingers in between your thighs and swiped haphazardly at your folds, you moaned and bit into your wrist.

“Filthy sweet girl,” Din whispered more to himself than you before he fisted his hand in your hair and pulled you flush to his chest, the slide of your dampened back against his sweaty chest bringing him more pleasure than he would have liked to admit because not a few hours ago, he was picturing your sweaty, glistening skin beneath him. And now that he had you here, he was going to make the best of it.

“Mando, oh Mando-” As much as he loved hearing you scream his nickname in the throws of passion, he wished more to hear his given name fall from your lips.

“My name...scream my name sweet girl. Let the stars know who pleasures you Cyare.” Din kissed your shoulder before biting into the sweaty flesh, the hand in your hair letting go right before wrapping softly around your throat and pressing you harder against him. Your hands twisted back to try and grab his hair but he immediately took your wrist and twisted it until it was behind you, between your back and his chest.

“Ahh Din…” You wanted to beg him to allow you to touch him, tell him that you were yearning to touch him as much as he was in need of touching you. But you had a feeling that this wasn’t true, and that this was his way of being certain that you weren’t going to leave him. That you were his.

If only he knew that you have already belonged to him. Long before tonight.

You felt each breath leave your lungs as Din tightened his grasp around your throat and you parted your lips to moan his name, only to feel his tongue shamelessly licking into your mouth. So distracted by the desperation in this kiss, you didn’t notice the fingers trailing down your chest and digging into your skin until the palm of his hand softly cupped one breast. Din teased you with feather light touches, flicking at one nipple before moving to the other and circling around it until it hardened. He continued to swallow your noises, sucking on your tongue to quiet you as he pinched your nipples. You twisted in his arms, wanting to reach for him again but knowing that he would probably pull your hand away.

When Din pulled away to allow you to breathe, you panted and finally opened your eyes, not daring to look away as he kept you motionless with his gaze. Din watched as you tried to form a coherent thought, waiting until you parted your lips to speak to him before reaching down and cupping your quivering cunt as he broke the silence.

“This belongs to me,” your breath hitched when Din pressed the palm of his hand against you, not quite applying pressure on your clit but just enough to hold your focus. “Only I get to touch you, kiss you, watch you as you come undone in my arms.” You nodded briefly at him, continuing to hold eye contact as he began to increase his actions. “No one else will ever have you Cyar'ika. No one but me.” He slipped two fingers past your wet folds and rubbed against your walls, humming in approval when he felt you flutter around him the harder he shoved his fingers inside you.

“I’m yours Din, y-yours. Whatever you want, oh gods please more...need more, Din you make me f-feel so good.” Din keened at your words, curling his hand until his palm was passing deliciously over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace.

“That’s right sweet girl, you’re mine. Mine to fuck, mine to take whenever I want...mine to-” Din hesitated for a second, unable to voice his heart to you even though you’ve bared your soul for him. “Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum...kriffing gods you’re wet, so wet for me. Come on, cum for me again ner Cyare. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how needy this little cunt is, fuck- I...can’t want to have you wrapped around my cock little one. Can’t wait to sink in this pussy, my sweet tight cunt, mark you with my seed, over and over again...fuck a load in you all night long till you can’t feel anything but my cum dripping down your thighs. Shit, I need you to cum, now!” Your mind became foggy with pleasure, unable to focus on anything but the words whispered into your ears as his thick fingers fucked into you. You grabbed the wrist of the hand wrapped around your throat, digging your nails into his skin as you came around his fingers. You almost fell forwards but Din held you flush against him, continuing to drive his digits into you and rub at your clit with this thumb until you were sobbing in his arms.

“Beautiful,” Din kissed your shoulder as he slowly inched his hands away from you before laying you down slowly. His eyes took in the flushed, wet skin of your back, chuckling with pride when he saw your legs shaking as little sobs escaped your lips. Your breaths came in shallow and quick, and you tried to silence your whines by biting into your wrists but then you felt Din slide his hand back and forth on your back as he laid next to you and you shivered under his touch because from the way he was moving closer to you and touching you, there was no way he was done just yet.

“You’re all I think about, every waking moment. It’s difficult to focus on anything else when you’re always in my mind Cyar'ika. I- I burn for you, for your lips to caress mine every moment, your eyes to never leave mine as I brand you, your skin against my own as you mark me with your touch. I- maker, I cannot think of a life without you here, with me…” Din thought he would have to force himself to say such things but he found it remarkably easy now that he had you here, responding so openly and shamelessly to him.

“Din,” you turned your head and shifted towards him, kissing the hand resting between the two of you before leaning your forehead against his and shutting your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, for as long as you’ll have me.” Din ceased all movement at your words and he looked away from where he was stroking your back, meeting your eyes and furrowing his eyebrows before you felt him grab your arm and pull you on top of him. You surprised gasp died in your throat when you felt Din wrap his arms around your back and bring you against him until you could feel his chest hairs tickling your nipples. You could feel his cock jutting against your core through his pants and as you rested your hands on his chest and looked to him, you saw the frown ease from his expression, replaced with something akin to reverence.

“I will have you until my dying breath Mesh’la. Let me show you how much I want you.” The force of his declaration hit you instantly and you pressed your lips against his just as you felt him rid himself of his pants. Din’s hands were roaming your back and you felt bolder with every caress, combing your fingers into his hair and pulling on it as he squeezed your ass and bucked into you. The growl emanating from his chest shot straight to your core and you raised yourself from him for a moment.

“Din, I want you. Crave to feel you inside me. Please, do it fast and don’t- don’t be gentle. Show me, show me how much you lo- want me.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your words and he wasted no time, taking hold of his cock and teasing your clit with his leaking tip before slowly inching inside you. You shut your eyes and dug your nails into the back of his neck as he continued to sheath his dick deeper in your cunt. You could feel every ridge and pulsating vein dragging against your inner walls, finally allowing your lungs to breathe as you felt him nudge and twitch against that soft, spongy spot in your core.

Neither of you moved for a few moments, with Din trying to wrap his mind around finally becoming one with you and feeling you clench so sweetly around him. He was torn between fucking up into you without mercy and taking it nice and slow until he pushed you over the edge again. But then you were gyrating your hips and sighing his name on his cheek and he knew what he wanted.

Planting his feet on the damp covers, Din held you flush against him with one arm while resting his other hand on your thigh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips up before sinking into you again. You let out a surprised sob and rested your forehead against his shoulder, whispering more pleas against his skin and begging him to move.

The usually quiet man breathed the sweetest wishes in your ears, thrusting up into you with immense force that made you clench tighter around him. “Ni copad gar an te ca'nara Ad’ika, ni vercopa be gar anay ca. You have made a home for yourself inside my heart.” Din felt your shaky breath blow on his neck and it drove him mad with lust because he wanted to have you reacting to his touch so wantonly every minute of every day. His grip only tightened around you and he prayed you wouldn’t mind the bruises that would surely color your skin in the next few hours. He wasn’t planning on being gentle tonight, perhaps later, but not tonight, and he was going to ensure his touch would be visible for anyone that would speak with you tomorrow. Thoughts of the Marshal passed through his mind’s eye and he growled, pumping his cock into you harshly for some reassurance. You cried out his name over and over again, feeling your skin heat up at the declarations of love he was peppering on your skin because even though his words were gentle, his touches were far from it.

The squelching sounds of your cunt flooding Din’s thighs as he drove himself into you should have embarrassed you but you could tell he enjoyed knowing how wet you were for him from the way he continued to quicken the pace just to hear your juices flowing over him. His grip on you was becoming more painful the more you moved against each other but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him know. He was letting go, showing you how much he wanted you, how hard he was for you, and you weren’t about to make him feel conscious over his affection.

“Maker...oh Din, Din I- you feel so good inside me. Filling me up like no one else. Could feel you so deep, gods, could feel you everywhere Din please- don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop, I need it. Need you, want you- want you to mark me, d-do whatever you want with me.” You had no hold over your own speech and weren’t sure if you were making any sense but Din moaned each time you praised him.

“Good girl, sweet girl...taking my cock so well, kriffing hell. Your- your pussy is squeezing the fuck out of me..could feel every tight inch of you stroking my cock Cyar’ika. Ah pfassk...you’re- you’re perfection.” Din moved the hand around your back up to your neck, pulling on your hair and pressing his lips with yours as his cock throbbed inside you. You whined as his tongue roughly swirled around your own, barely able to breathe as he continued to snap his hips against you and suddenly feeling a rush of relief as his navel rubbed at your clit until you came around him. Din broke the kiss, screaming expletives in his tongue as the force of your orgasm pushed his cock out of you. You shuddered as you gushed on his dick, wrapping your arms around his neck when he forced his cock into your tight cunt again.

You were so overcome with emotions, so lost in Din’s scent mixing with your own, and his touch leaving bruises on your skin, that you didn’t notice the faint sounds of footsteps coming up the ramp and halting in the middle of the ship right in front of the door. But Din noticed, managing to look up just in time to see Cobb standing in the middle of the ship and staring with wide eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him.

Something completely otherworldly took over the Mandalorian and he quickly sat up, expertly moving the two of you around until he was kneeling on the covers with you straddling his thighs. He smiled against your shoulder, allowing your hair to hide his face as he grabbed both of your hips and fucked up into you.

He could vaguely see the Marshal and was surprised that he hadn't dropped the bottle of drink in his hand just yet. You wailed into the night air, arms keeping you stead in Din’s arms as he forced you on his pulsating dick over and over again.

“Tell me...tell me Cyare, tell me how much you love it when I fuck you. How much you need my cock like the filthy little cockslut you are. Go on sweet girl, grind that little clit on me. Fucking tell me ner Ad’ika.” Din smacked your ass twice, chuckling when your moans grew more lewd with every touch he laid on you.

“I- I- ahhh love your cock...oh maker, no one fucks me like you. N-no one makes me c-cum like you. Fuck me harder D- ahhh,” Din bit down on your shoulder to prevent you from saying his name, looking through the mess of your hair and watching as his audience remained incapable of moving.

“I own this pretty little pussy. Pffassk- ride me harder Mesh’la. You’re such a good girl, could feel your cunt drenching my thighs, the smell of you is driving me mad. Fuck- keep that pretty mouth open to me when I’m fucking you, let me hear you scream for me.”

“Please- please...fuck me harder, ruin my pussy. Gods- I..I’m so close please. Tell me you own me, tell me I’m you’re sweet girl. Please- I want to be good for you, want you to cum inside me Din...cum inside me. I need it, need you to fuck me like you own me and mark me, make me yours Mando. Cum in me, please-”

“Ah fuck you’re my sweet little girl aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck a load in you, cum in you all night long and keep my seed in that tight cunt? That’s it sweetheart, I’m so fucking hard for you. Could feel you clenching around me...be a good girl and cum again ner kar'ta. Fuck, yes yes you feel so good wrapped around my cock Cyare you’re going to make me cum. Spill my seed in that tight, wet pussy, fill you up till you can taste it in your throat. Shit, and- and I’m going to keep fucking you sweet girl, till my cum is sliding down your thighs. My little fucktoy- come on, come on love, cum for me. Cum on me, drench me again. Mix your juices with me.” Din watched as Cobb finally had the mind to leave and he almost laughed at how the man almost tripped on his own foot as he sprinted out of the ship. He pushed you on your back and spread your thighs open, resting his weight on the arms around your head as he thrust in a few more times before he felt you clench around him. Leaning down, Din took a pert nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, growling into your skin as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls with long strings of his seed until he couldn’t breathe. He’d never cum this hard before and was sure to tell you when you had the state of mind to pay him any semblance of attention.

Din continued to lazily push into you, your words from earlier replaying in his mind as he felt you quiver around his softening cock. You were still coming down from your high and twitched occasionally when you felt him throb inside you. There was a pleasant kind of warmth washing over you and you sighed happily when you realized he was still bucking against you to push his cum in your belly.

“D-din...you’re filling me up so good. Feel so full ah- gah.” He laughed when your body shook, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around until you were laying on his chest. You kissed his jaw and his neck, moaning in unison when you felt his dick rub against that sweet spot inside you.

“That’s because I’ve never cum this hard sweet girl. You’ve milked me dry Cyare. Could feel you sucking my seed out of me.” He was amazed at your obvious embarrassment, wanting to tease you about it but choosing to wait for later instead.

Din rubbed at your back, kissing your forehead as he whispered sweet things in your ears and smiling when you nipped at his neck some more.

“Promise me you’ll never leave.” Din’s quiet voice broke the silence and you pushed up to look into his eyes as you responded. “I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to go. I’ll stay here, always. I promise.” You kissed him gently and felt his pulse beneath your fingers calm at your words.

Not much time has passed before Din had you on your knees in front of him, fucking your mouth and shoving you down on his cock until you gagged and his seed slipped from the corner of your mouth, mixing with your spit as it fell down your breasts. You lost count of how many times he brought you pleasure, and you made a mental note to ask him how he managed to fuck you all night long. You weren’t sure it was possible for a man to cum this many times over the course of one night but you had a feeling Din was not like anyone else. A man who has been touch starved for almost three decades must have had a lot of pent-up aggression that he needed to release. And you would gladly help him in any shape or form through that.

And when he wasn’t pumping your cunt full of his cum, he was nuzzling into your neck and laying kisses across your arms, making sure he caressed every inch of your skin. You shouldn’t have been surprised that Din loved to snuggle with you but you did find it hilarious that such a big and scary Mandalorian whimpered when you licked down his neck as you nestled into his arms. You wouldn’t tell him just yet but besides his rough grasps and his filthy words, you loved to taste the saltiness of his skin and from the looks of it, the feelings were mutual because at some point in the night, he’d told you of all the times he had to lock himself up in the refresher and try his hardest to not think of your sweaty limbs entangling with his own as he kissed you.

By the time the two of you made it outside the following day, the twin suns had already been in the middle of the sky, scorching rays of heat on everyone across Mos Pelgo. You tried your hardest not to walk too funny, mostly because it made Din apologize every now and then, but it was difficult when you could still feel traces of his touch on you. You told him you needed him to stop making it obvious but realized he was apologizing out of regret not out of humor. It took you all of the afternoon to convince him that you were feeling more than okay and that you’d asked him for this. And when he didn’t seem to stop, you teased him and told him that you knew he secretly loved watching you wobble from side to side.

This all, however, peaked when you walked into the cantina and tried to play Sabbac with Cobb Vanth and the others. You could tell that the Marshal was avoiding all conversation with you, going out of his way to pretend you weren’t even sitting on the table, let alone the room. You hoped that Mando hadn’t spoken with him or anything and decided to call it quits earlier in the night. When you did make it back to the ship and saw Din cleaning his weapons, you made sure the ship was secure before moving to sit on the bed across from him.

“Did you talk to Cobb today?” You gauged his reaction, already sensing that something was wrong when you saw him nervously clench his jaw before rubbing furiously at the beskar weapon.

“No, why do you ask?” Din wished he hadn’t already taken off his helmet because as soon as he responded, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

“Din?”

He looked up at you and cleared his throat before speaking.

“He- he saw us...last night. I- I must have forgotten to raise the ramp and-” Din took a deep breath when you shot up from the cot and began to pace back and forth.

“HE WHAT?”

“We were...I couldn’t- there wasn’t a chance I could…you felt too good around me Ad’ika I- I couldn’t stop. Not when you were clenching around me so tightly. Now when you were finally in my arms. I-” He stood up and walked towards you, taking your hands into his and kissing both of your wrists. You flushed at his words and looked up at him, only to find him blushing under your gaze.

“You did it on purpose didn't you? You wanted him to see...to watch as you- as we...as I said-” Din didn’t let you finish the sentence, leaning down and molding his lips with yours as he walked you back to his bed. He pushed you down on the covers still holding your scents, his hold hardening the more you moaned against him. Before he could strip you of your clothes, you pushed him off and stuck out your finger in warning.

“Oh no you don’t. Go raise the ramp.”

“You’re giving me orders now Mesh’la?” Din raised an eyebrow at you as he got off of you and walked around the bed, halting at the doorstep to look back at you.

“Never…”

Translations:

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - my/mine

Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum - mine to love

Ni copad gar an te ca'nara - I want you all the time.

Ni vercopa be gar anay ca - I dream of you every night.

Ner kar'ta - my heart

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #star wars #star wars fanfiction #baby yoda #grogu

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bloodycassian · 3 years

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COLD NIGHTS - Cassian x Azriel x Reader - Prompt:

hi i love your work so much!!! I was thinking a cassian x azriel x reader (i just love them sm, why have one when you can have two ) where the reader is sister of a high lord maybe day or winter court, and reader goes missing (kinda angsty) and her brother (a high lord) panics and goes to the night court for help (bc if her two bat boys can’t find her who will) and az and cassian go full on panic mode and search for the reader, i was also thinking a fluffy cute ending where reader is just cuddling with azriel and cassian while her wounds heal take as much time as you need to write this, don’t pressure yourself. Take care lovely

Kallis would never forget the screams. The terror and panic that rushed through him when he realised that you were gone. He sent half the city to search for you. He called upon Helion to inspect the magic. He was frantic in finding you. But it was like you had just disappeared out of nowhere. No sign of struggle, not a drop of blood spilled. The offender was sloppy in their ways, but their magic was strong. Helion could sense it. They had a deathwish from Kallis himself if he ever found them. + The first thing you saw were your cracked and bloody hands. They were split open from the dry cold wind. Sea air drifted into the cave. The cold brutal howling outside mixed with the roar of waves breaking confirmed your nightmares. Cape Tragedy.

The islands off the coast of winter were known for their unforgiving nature to ships. Hence their name, Cape Tragedy. Also known as the Tragic coast, no stories were ever heard of any survivors of those crashes. If they had managed to survive the churning water, then the false salvation of the islands would kill them. It happened often enough that there were lighthouses set atop many of the bigger islands for ships to avoid on stormy days.

You coughed from the dry air, earning a pair of yellow eyes to dart to you. One of the three lesser fae males noticed you were awake and clapped. "She wakes! We've been waiting for you, sweetheart." His green skin was pale in the overcast light streaming in from the mouth of the cave. Snow Bear pelts lay all around. A disgrace in your culture. No citizen of Winter court would do such a thing. You looked to the walls to find weapons, and strange markings along the stone. Sailors from far away lands.

Not even sailors. Pirates. A chill ran through you.

"We're going to get your weight in gold, pretty one." The scaled male curled a piece of your hair behind you ear. Your stomach turned, and you tried to scoot away. "My brother will kill you first. And he'll take a long time doing it." You promised, trying to make your voice sound strong. Terror had you by it's grip though, and it was hard to do anything other than panic

. "Your brother? The pretty one that shears the Elk?" The green one asked. You laughed, and then were hissing in pain when the scaled male yanked on your hair. "What's so funny?"

"You think my brother is an elk herder?" You spat "You must be dumber than you look." The males glanced between each other, then to the one who hadn't said anything yet.

"Who ye think you are then?" The male holding your hair stammered, trying to keep his panic under wraps.

"Kallis' sister." You said with deadly calm. "And the high lord does not negotiate."

"If you're so noble why you got such a mouth on ye?" The third male finally spoke.

They laughed.

"Maybe we will see just how much of a mouth-" He started again. He didnt have a chance to finish his disgusting words. You kicked, bending an ice spear straight up from the rocky ice floor and through the third male's body. Then the beating from the other two came.

They bound your wrists and ankles in rope and tar. Their hands shook when they did it. It gave you a small bit of satisfaction. The potion they gave you to knock you out was just barely strong enough. You fought it as best you could, but it won. You could only hear the faint sounds of arguing then a crash of glass, then the cold winds whipping around you. And when you woke, your body ached. The cold bit into your limbs. Your fingers were pale. Far too pale to be healthy. You knew frostbite when you saw it. Your body refused to move under your own power. Your blood was frozen to the icy ground. They had used a potion and transported you to a peninsula, and you could only faintly hear the ocean below. You could feel the potion wearing off, but you knew you weren't healing. Not yet. You reached down into your own mind, picking up the fading tendrils of power. Of your bond to the two you knew could save you. And you pulled as hard as you could manage. --- "Fuck." The roaring thought shook Cassian awake. Bleary eyed, he glanced about the room as if there was someone actually shouting at him. Then he felt it. The weak tug that had been silent for so long. And he knew it was nothing good. Frenzied, he met Azriel at the dining area. Where they spent the rest of the night planning, deducing a probable reason for you to be calling so weakly. They sent their worries to Rhys, but they were shooed away. "I'm researching. Meet me in the library at dawn." The two males tried to comfort each other. But the worry pulsating through the bond was too much to focus on. So they waited. Kallis appeared that morning. He spat his story and begged for help, practically in tears as he spoke to the three Illyrians. Cassian and Az knew something was wrong the moment you were attacked. Court laws forbade them interfering on Winter Court territory though. As soon as the approval was given, the brothers winnowed to the border of Winter and started flying. + You were coming to terms that you would die in the cold. You had imagined death differently. Battle was the primary way you thought you'd die. Or at the end of a High Lord's magic for being too much of an advisor. Smiling at the memory of putting Tamlin in his place, you gave another tug down the bonds to your mates. And like a snap, they both tugged back. Almost in unison. It was hard to tell. You closed your eyes, listening to the soft waves below. They lulled you into a cold sleep yet again. + Despite the cold, the Illyrians flew as fast as they could. They could sense your light fading, and chased it for mile after mile. Their wings cut through the harsh winter winds, fueled by rage and desperation. Then they spotted the dark figure frozen to the snow below. Cassian landed first, a few feet away. The ice cracked beneath him. "Get us out of here." He growled to Azriel. "We need to make sure she's okay before we move." Cassian growled, but didn't protest. Azriel understood. He felt the anguish and frustration through the shared bond. Az's hands pressed gently to your neck, checking your pulse. He swore. "Baby, we need you to wake up for us. We're here. We got you." Cassian put a hand to your cheek and fought back the tears that threatened. You groaned in response. They both sighed in relief, their breath making clouds in front of them. "I'm stuck..." You managed through your stiff jaw. Cassian stroked a thumb over your cheek. "Stuck? Honey you're-" "Cas..." Azriel nodded to your side, to the ice that crept its way up your damp clothes. Azriel could have taken a very very long time torturing the beasts that did this to his mate. The rage coiled in his gut at the sight of your injuries. The only reason you hadn't bled out was the blood and water mix turning your wounds to ice. Cassian pulled at the ice web that encapsulated you. Under the heat of his rage it broke, and broke and broke. Azriel placed small patches of his shield over your frostbitten fingers. "We're gonna get you out of here. Just stay still." Azriel smoothed back your hair, and darkness swirled over you. The change from the harsh overcast light of Winter court to the soft sun of Night court was jarring. Madja put her hands on you and you were asleep in an instant. Her warm hands were a blessing from the Mother. + "She's lucky she has that Winter blood in her or she'd be dead." Madja wiped her hands off and handed both the Illyrians a small vial. "That is the scrap from a poisoned sword that broke off in her shoulder. I got all the pieces out, but the poison lingers. It may heal slowly, but it should get better." Anguish burned both of their stomachs. Azriel's throat tightened and he looked away, but gripped the vial tightly. Cassian stared at it, his eyes murderous. Madja left without another word. "She was almost killed. And we couldn't do anything." Cassians' voice was low, with violence dripping from it. "We need her here. In Velaris where we can... watch her." He didn't know what he was saying, but the instinct to protect was overriding every other logical thought he had. Anger burned and burned in his stomach, swallowing him with rage. He could feel Az mirroring the same feeling, but with a cold deadliness that begged to simmer out of him. "You know she wont go for that. She loves her home too much. Her brother." Azriel whispered back. "We're her mates. She should be with us." Cassian was looking for a fight. All the tension and anger of the day had to be worked out. Azriel felt it too. His shadows ran anxiously through the room.

The wind outside howled. It shifted the dark clouds that covered the moon. It seemed to be a cold day in all of Prythian. A cold day in your mates hearts to the pirates that had taken you. They spoke their rage mind to mind, imagining the ways to torture the bastards.

How to find them would be the first priority. Azriel kept circling back to that part. + The healer cleared his throat at the door. "She's asking for you." He nodded to Rhys' brothers. They left Rhys behind in unison, walking in perfect step with each other. Their minds hummed together over that bond they shared with you. "Protect protect protect." They both seemed to demand. Azriel knocked softly, his heart flipping when he heard your voice again. "Get in here." You demanded, giving them a broad smile when they practically shoved each other out of the way.

"Come keep me warm." You weakly folded the blanket back, exposing some of the bruising on your skin.

They complied with enthusiasm. Azriel's hands were cold at first, but they got better when he reached around you to hold Cassian closer. They worked in tandem to keep you covered, making sure that you weren't too crowded or too warm. Azriel summoned his cool shadows when you got too warm and had to kick the blankets off. Cassian's warm breath would keep you warm when they became too much. You traced Azriel's cheekbones, the sharp edge of his jaw while falling alseep. Cassian's muscled forearms hugging you from behind were like a heavy pillow.

"Rest now, we can have more fun later." Az winked, making your stomach flutter. Cassian groaned and pulled you further to his lap. You tried not to think of the hardness that pressed to you now. "Goodnight." The shadowsinger kissed your forehead and like a light, you were out. Finally resting peacefully wrapped between your two mates and their warm bond you all shared.

#acotar fic #azriel x reader #cassian x reader

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maeve-writes · 3 years

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Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes.

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers.

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm.

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory.

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone.

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.”

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue.

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside.

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed.

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged.

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild.

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves.

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests.

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement.

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously.

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him.

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress.

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights.

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention.

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go.

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold.

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x you x steve rogers #bucky barnes x y/n x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x you x bucky barnes #steve rogers x y/n x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stripper!bucky barnes #stripper!steve rogers #stripper!au #heroes au

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

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Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Nine

chapter eight - Chapter Nine: The Soldier and the Mutant - chapter ten

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n deals with the new knowledge about who her father truly was and receives a surprise visitor.

Warnings: angst, fluff, fluff, FLUFF, my gosh it’s nearly suffocating how much fluff, language, one allusion to sex, mentions of suicide, mentions of torture

Word Count: 10.1k

A/N: I’m just gonna let this one speak for itself, thanks for being so patient 😉

----

“HYDRA?”

“HYDRA…” I sighed.

Melanie and I were sat on her front porch, coffee cups in hand and revelations on our lips. I’d been home for two days and the shock of finding out about my father’s longstanding lie, while still fresh, was morphing into numbness. Being his daughter too, Mel needed to know the truth as well.

“This guy’s gotta be lying,” my sister waved a hand in front of her, “He has to be, he’s a criminal a-and he’s crazy.” “He’s not lying, Mels,” I held my head in my hand with my elbow resting on my chair, “I went online and scoured the internet, Dad’s name was listed in the HYDRA files leaked ten years ago.”

Mel leaned forward in her seat and hung her head, bracing her weight on her knees. My sister had always been a rock, unshakable even in the face of the worst circumstances. Even though she was keeping it together for my sake, I could see the well of emotions that would spring up once I was gone. “I can’t believe this,” she mumbled, shaking her head softly, “But looking back, it makes so much sense.” I furrowed my brows at her, “You wanna spell this one out for me?”

“Think about it,” she turned in her seat to face me, “Dad was wracked with guilt every day since he came home from the,” she set her mug down on the coffee table and made air quotes, “‘service.’ Nightmares and flashbacks and that awful depression…I mean, the man tore himself apart for what he’d done when he wasn’t passed out from drinking. He’d have had to do some pretty nasty things to feel that much guilt.” “Yeah, well, he should have felt guilty,” I grumbled, staring down at the coffee to hide the tears slowly forming in my eyes, “He hurt innocent people.”

“Wow…” she said quietly.

I sat forward in my seat, “Mom can never find about this, the shock could kill her. And as much as I feel like she should know who she was married to, I don’t think I can destroy another person’s image of Dad.” “No, I don’t think we should tell her either,” Mel agreed, taking a sip from her coffee, “I’m sorry enough that you had to find out. Wait,” she slapped a hand over my arm, “Does Bucky know? You said you and Sam were working with him.” I had done my best to put Bucky out of my mind for the past two days, failing spectacularly. I had gotten so used to him being by my side the past week that once he was gone, it felt like something was missing. Never mind the way I’d left him, those blue eyes begging me not to shut him out, the very same thing I’d asked him not to do. I had to remind myself at least ten times a day that removing myself from his life was for his good.

“Yeah, he knows,” I looked back down at my lap, squeezing the coffee mug so tight, I thought it might shatter. Mel threw her hands out to their sides, “And?”

“And he knows,” I replied, knowing that wouldn’t be a good enough answer for her. “So this guy finds out that our dad tortured him for years and he’s been running around Europe with his daughter and he had no reaction? What are you not telling me?” “Mel, what do you want me to say?” I snapped my head up, “He was there when Zemo told me and he’s not with me now, there’s nothing more to tell…"

I may have been a mutant, but sometimes I wished I’d have gotten my sister’s detective skills instead. She could take one look at a person and go Sherlock Holmes on their ass before they knew what hit them. It was one of the reasons she’d made such a good psychologist before becoming a stay-at-home mom.

Mel inhaled sharply and her eyes widened, “Oh my gosh, do you-“ “Don’t say it,” I held up a hand and forcefully pressed my eyes shut, a few teardrops squeezing out onto my eyelashes, “Please don’t say it.” As requested, she fell silent, her hand slipping onto my shoulder and rubbing small circles. I trained my eyes ahead of me, focusing on the last remnants of the morning’s sunrise. I’d always loved getting up early enough to watch the light spread across the sky, giving me hope that whatever pain I was feeling was only temporary. I found no such comfort gazing at the spectacle in my current state.

“It’s better this way,” I said, not able to look at her lest she see my contradictory eyes, “Trust me.” “Well,” Mel sighed loudly, “You’re the one that knows the guy…Just promise me one thing?” “Hmm?” She pulled one of my hands out of the death grip I had on my cup and took it into one of hers, “This is huge news, life-shattering, and we’re allowed to process it however we need to. But I see that look in your eyes, none of this is on you. Don’t blame yourself for what Dad did to him.” And if Mel had spent the time I had with Bucky, watched him in the bar in Madripoor, been in the therapy session with him, seen his reaction to losing his arm in Riga, I knew she’d feel different. I had a front row seat to Bucky’s PTSD and my father had been the ringleader. How could I not feel a little responsible? ——

Sam, Sarah and I had talked the boat situation over the morning before. The offer that Sarah had received from the guy who had been interested before Sam returned home had fallen through, he’d cited the reason as that it would take more money to fix than it was worth. Ever the hero, Sam had phoned everyone in the community who had known his parents and called in as many favors as he could. As I pulled up to the docks, ready to roll up my sleeves and begin working, I was delightfully surprised at how many people had responded. There were at least a dozen sets of helping hands waiting to work. It was moments like these that reminded me how lucky I was to live in such a close knit community.

I weaved through people, greeting and thanking everyone for coming out as I made my way to the boat. “Black Falcon to the rescue again, huh?” I called out to Sam as I climbed aboard, he was standing at the bow of the ship next to somebody whose back was turned to me. “You know it,” Sam called back, turning around and facing me, along with the man who he’d been in conversation with.

It was Bucky.

My heart stopped and I froze in my tracks, adrenaline shooting through my veins. Our eyes met across the deck and we may as well have been back in Sokovia. There was the same pain threaded through his ocean blue eyes only enhanced by the fear reflecting in mine. I wanted to run to him and away from him all at once, but knew which instinct needed to be listened to.

I looked to Sam and faked a hopefully convincing smile, “I’ll be below deck.” Hurriedly, I hauled my ass across the deck and raced down the steps. My hands flew to cover my nose and mouth as my breathing increased. He was here, he couldn’t be here, why was he here? Any progress I’d made, however small, in trying to put Bucky to rest had been revived the second I saw his face.

“You wanna explain what that was?” I looked up to see Sam stepping off the final stair and crossing his arms in front of me, “One day you’re friends and the next you bolt outta the room when you see the guy?” “Just,” I strained, stopping to take as soothing a breath as I was capable of and straightening my posture, “Keep me where he isn’t.” Sam sighed, reading me all too well, “Y/n, if this is about your dad, there’s noth-“ “Now what needs to be done down here?” I interrupted, placing my hands on my hips and hoping that if I projected confidence, I’d start to feel it.

“Fine,” Sam conceded to my wishes and gestured to the engine we were standing next to, “Check the zincs. If you need to replace ‘em, we’ll have to run down to Joe’s. And just so you know,” he stood at the steps and pointed between me and where Bucky most likely stood above us, “I don’t agree with this.” I shook my head to shake myself out of the moment as he left me to my work, blissfully hidden from the person I wanted to be with most.

——

I had never experienced a more uncomfortable day.

For the entire morning and afternoon, it was like switching a light on and off. If Bucky came below deck to fix something, I filed out as quick as I could to work above deck. We didn’t interact more than when we passed each other once in a while, each brush of shoulder sending a jolt of electricity through me. Sam had been no help either, he’d prevented me from making the necessary run to the hardware store or helping Sarah with lunch. He was determined to try and quarantine me and Bucky on the boat, most likely in hopes that my resolve would weaken. No matter how much it was killing me, I kept my distance and my head down as we made repairs in awkward silence.

When the sun began to set over the waters and there was nothing left to be done for the day, I carefully made my way up the stairs and listened for voices. When I heard none close by, I took quick steps across the deck and hopped off the boat onto the dock. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder to see if Bucky, who was stealthy enough to sneak up on anyone, was behind me and kept on my path to the outdoor kitchen area Sarah was closing up. “Good day?” I asked, grabbing an extra rag to try and get the oil off my hands from working on the engine.

“Better than you,” she retorted, “You’ve had that sour look on your face since you got here.” “Just,” I sighed and stopped my rigorous rubbing for a second, “Still thinking about everything…” Stopping her cleaning while I resumed mine, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and leaned her head against mine. Out of Sam, Melanie, myself and her, Sarah was the most removed from the situation. My dad hadn’t interacted much with the Wilsons, he hadn’t interacted with hardly anyone outside of his family, so Sarah didn’t have many memories with him nor had she fought HYDRA. It was actually nice to be around someone who didn’t have his dirty deeds bouncing around their head like an old school Microsoft screensaver.

“You,” she pressed a kiss to the side of my head, “Are one of the best human beings I know and nothing can change that, not even this.” Starting the argument that this revelation did in fact change a lot of things would be useless, I knew better than to try and prove Sarah wrong. I simply patted her arm and leaned into her embrace, taking the comfort I could get even if I didn’t necessarily deserve it.

“By the way,” she said as she unwrapped her arms, “Sam invited Bucky to stay the night.” My stomach dropped, “WHAT?” “He was gonna go find a hotel room but that’s ridiculous when he can just crash on the couch,” Sarah shrugged, wiping off the counter once again. “Why?” I pressed my hands to my mouth in a praying position, “Why could you not be an angel who has to help everybody, just this once?”

Sarah turned to face me, placing on hand on her hip, “The guy saved your ass from being killed and ran you to the hospital,” I opened my mouth to ask her how she knew that, she held up a finger to me, “Sam told me all about Riga. It’s the least we can do for him. And don’t even think about running to Mel’s place for the night, you promised the boys you’d take them to school tomorrow morning.” I stood there, nervously wringing the cloth through my hands as Sarah walked away to finish up another task before night fell. All my efforts to keep away from Bucky were failing and it wasn’t due to anything on my part. How was I supposed to protect him if we were constantly around each other? As I looked out to the deck of the boat, I could see Sam and Bucky had winded up there drinking beers to celebrate their long day of work. It was a scene that only days ago, I could have easily slipped into. I didn’t just miss Bucky, I missed the dynamic the three of us had grown to have. Sam would have pressed a beer into my hand and lightheartedly elbowed me, I’d have settled down next to Bucky whose hand would have naturally drifted to the small of my back…It would have been a perfect end to the day. Instead, I was cursing my father for ever having dipped a toe in HYDRA’s pool, his decision had ruined my life.

——

I had two vendettas, one with Sam for inviting Bucky to stay and one with my quickly drying throat that begged for water.

Laying in bed with my pillow smashed across my face, I peeked one eye out to check my alarm clock. 1:29AM. I’d laid in the same position for an hour, hoping that sleep took me over and my thirst would die till the morning. The family had been asleep for hours and with the amount of work Sam and him did, Bucky should have been passed out too. If I pulled it off just right, I could sneak downstairs to grab a bottle of water and get out before he ever stirred. Waking an ex-assassin wouldn’t be good for either of us.

I tiptoed out of my room, mindful of the creaking door as I passed AJ and Cass’ bedroom. Once I got to the stairs, I chose a silent approach and used my energy to float my way down the steps. I continued doing so through the kitchen, sneaking a peek over to the couch to see Bucky sound asleep. I opened up the fridge quietly and reached in blindly, feeling around till I hit a bottle and pulling it out. Tucking the bottle under my arm, I placed my hands back at my side and began to let the energy lift me.

“You do know I can hear you, right?” The familiar voice startled me, causing me to absorb the energy back into my palms quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration before turning to see Bucky, laying in the same position I’d found him in with his lids still shut. “Forgot,” I said, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in my voice, “Super soldier.”

Flipping the blanket Sarah had given to him off his body, he swung his long legs off the couch and sat up to face me. It truly wasn’t fair how good he looked even in the middle of the night, the moonlight coming through the windows and highlighting his silhouette. Admiring his profile was the only thing making the uncomfortable silence semi-bearable.

“We need to talk,” he started. “We really don’t,” I hurriedly replied, starting to rotate my body to flee. Bucky stood up, the couch creaking in relief as he did, “Yes, we do. You left so fast the other day I couldn’t get two words in.” “Because you didn’t need to,” I said from my place in the kitchen, “There’s nothing you can say to make any of this better and you shouldn’t. In fact, you should hate me.” He raised a tired eyebrow, “Hate you?”

“Yes,” I said, a little louder, “Hate me for what my father did to you, hate me for being his daughter. I hate me right now, I don’t understand why you don’t.” “Because there’s nothing to hate,” Bucky chuckled softly, “You of all people have given me the least to hate.” “Bucky, of all people you should hate me the most,” I said firmly, setting the forgotten bottle on the counter, “We travel the world all week and then you find out I’m the daughter of the man whose job was to hook you up to machines an-and torture you all day. That’s the man who I drew pictures of and kissed every night before bed and thought was the greatest person to ever walk the fucking planet,” I spread my arms out to accentuate the point, “That man is one of the reasons for all that pain seeping out of you. And guess what? I’m him. I’m literally his flesh and blood! So go ahead, hate me! You have every right to, and it would make this all so much easier if you did.” “Make what easier? Ignoring each other?” Bucky crossed his arms over his broad chest, “I don’t want to do that.” I knew he wasn’t going to let it go, I had only one decent shot at ending the conversation and I needed to take it, even if it broke my heart. “Well, it’s what I want,” I picked up the bottle again, trying to pretend I was as confidant in my decision to walk away as my words were.

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Bucky said, the tiniest smirk appearing on his lips, something I always found cute but now found annoying.

It may have been the biggest lie I’d ever told in my entire life, but it was also truth. I wanted to leave Bucky before he inevitably left me. “No, it’s not,” I said, my voice threatening to tremble as I used it. “You wanna look me in the eye and tell me that?” I hadn’t dared to make too much contact with those wild eyes that I’d fallen for, I’d only give in all the quicker and let his grace draw me straight into his arms. He’d called my bluff, knowing that lying to him was easy when I didn’t actually have to see him and that I couldn’t continue the charade if that changed. As I dragged my eyes up to meet his, the tears I’d been fighting back began to come forward. He looked broken and whole at the sight of me, exactly how I felt.

“What do you want me to say, Bucky?” I whispered, my throat closing with emotion.

“I want you to tell me, to my face,” he paused, drawing a shallow breath, “That I’m crazy and that I read every signal wrong.” It would have been less painful if he’d sucker punched me with his left hand, I’d have actually preferred it. It had taken everything in me to tell just one lie, I couldn’t do it again to either one of us. But I also couldn’t succumb to my feelings. “Bucky…” I shakily began, clenching my fists at their sides.

“Because you’ve been living in my head pretty much since the minute I met you, and I don’t wanna sweep this week under the rug like it was nothing,” Bucky made a sweeping motion with his hand, “I don’t think I can.” “Bucky, we can’t…I can’t do that to you.” “Do what?” he asked confusedly, squinting his eyes as if he couldn’t see the issue. “I don’t want to hurt you!” I snapped, allowing the tears to break free of their restraints and shed themselves, “There’s going to come a day where every memory of what he put you through is going to be blamed on me and I can’t wait for the day where you wake up and look at me like I’m the monster my father was. I can’t have a little of you, Bucky, and then lose you entirely.” My cheeks were wet with my guilt, I made no effort to dry them or cease their streams. I stood there on the edge of where the kitchen met the living room staring at the man who held my heart, trying to pry it from his hands to no avail. Bucky looked just as surprised by the revelation as I’d been when it flew from my lips without any opposition from my head.

“What did you say to me in Riga?” he whispered, his voice raising slightly to try and emphasize the point he was about to make, “’I don’t believe that any part of you is capable of me?’ ‘That’s not who you really are?’” he echoed my sentiments from days ago, “You’re not him. If I believed there was any of him in you, I wouldn’t be standing here begging you to stop beating yourself up about this.” He took a step forward, waiting to see if I walked away but I was too focused on him to think about running. He continued coming forward, “Y/n, I can’t walk away from this like you mean nothing to me. You’re the first person I’ve met that sees me as Bucky Barnes before anything else. I gave you every reason to write me off and you didn’t give up on me,” he paused, swallowing harshly as he stopped in front of me, “When I’m with you, I feel safe for the first time in a long time. There’s never gonna come a day where I stop lookin’ at you like you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

There were mere inches left between us, the words I had been dying to hear were now mine for the taking and I was too paralyzed with shock to react. Of course he had to come and hit me with my own affirmations, making perfect sense. The side of my mind that believed I didn’t deserve this happiness was screaming that these feelings would fade, that my father’s sins would always be at the forefront of us. The other side that wanted nothing more than to reach out and close the distance between us was telling me to believe him and let myself be cared for, something I’d always believed I was too broken for. And somehow they were both drowned out by the excitement I felt with Bucky in such close proximity, staring down at me with those cerulean pools, infused with the darkness that sent a chill down my spine. There was a palpable change in the air, from emotional to the great and grand something we finally near naming. Every part of me wanted to reach out and take him for for myself, to kiss him and pull him so close that there was no telling where I began and he ended. If there was a chance for me to back out, it was now. I could run to my room, to my car, anywhere that he wasn’t. But at the end of the day, that wasn’t what I wanted. I could either let myself be held captive by crimes I’d never committed, or I could dedicate myself to loving the man who the universe had somehow tied me to long ago.

“Tell me to stop,” Bucky said, his voice hitting that low timbre that made goosebumps break out across my skin.

I couldn’t deny either one of us any longer.

Bucky took a step towards me, his eyes never leaving mine as I backed to accommodate him and his plans. A small gasp left me as my back hit the kitchen wall, my hands reaching back to press against it to try and find purchase on something. There was now only a breath’s width of space left between Bucky and I, our shared air growing more and more heated as we bathed in the anticipation of the moment. His eyes flicked between my y/e/c ones and my lips, looking for any signs of hesitation that didn’t exist. He placed a finger under my chin to tilt my head to his liking, pausing to take in the sight of my tear streaked face in the last seconds before we let loose the storm that had been brewing inside us both. I took the time to admire the wonder on his face, the two of us his newest discovery in a world he had long been asleep to.

He leaned in and our lips finally touched, euphorically.

I found myself unable to move, overwhelmed by the sensation I’d wanted to feel since our dance in Madripoor. Bucky didn’t overstep his bounds, he kept our mouths softly connected as we absorbed each other. When he disconnected our lips, whether to repeat the act or pull away, my body snapped into action and my hands flew to his neck, pulling him back down to me. Our lips didn’t fight for dominance so much as they did try and take in as much of each other as they could. Bucky’s hand slipped from my chin and both fell to my hips, pulling me flush against his body. On his tongue, I could taste the remnants of however many beers he’d shared with Sam, they’d stayed on the boat till the first evening stars started to appear. The scent of him, freshly showered after a long day of work, invaded my senses and spurred me on further, my hands moving to fist the back of his blue henley. With our kisses becoming more fervent, Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around my hips and lifted me so effortlessly, it only made the moment more heated. I wound my legs around his waist and let him carry me to wherever he desired, him easily supporting my weight and never disconnecting our lips as he fell to the couch. My hands snaked up his back to thread themselves through the short brown locks, causing him to pull away with a soft moan before diving back into my mouth. His flesh hand took hold of the back of my head and pushed me further into the kiss, trying to taste as much of me as he could. This. This was what I had been craving since the moment I’d realized I was far more starved of Bucky’s touch than I’d thought I’d been. The delightful friction our bodies created, the pressure of our lips dancing together, the knowledge that I was just as much his as he was mine. No more questioning, no more stolen moments wondering what could have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted. This was whole and perfect and right.

Eventually, the second long breaks we took for became insufficient and we needed to part for longer. Bucky looked gorgeously spent, his half lidded eyes following me, his lips deliciously swollen and his hair messed up from where my hands had been. I smiled as I dragged my hands to his cheek and ran my thumb over his plump lower lip, bringing a lopsided grin to his face. There was a joy I hadn’t seen him express yet and my stomach flipped knowing that I was the one to bring it in him.

“Don’t leave,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of our passion, “Please.” In my palms, I held one of the world’s most deadly men, someone whose reputation had consisted of how ruthless a killer he’d once been. And here he was, warm and soft and begging me not to go. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, delighting in how his eyes brightened at hearing my words. Contrasting the intensity of the minutes before, I leaned in and brushed my lips against Bucky’s with as little pressure as I could. He chased them the second I pulled away, eliciting a giggle out of me that he swallowed, kissing me so lovingly it almost broke my heart. He inhaled me like I was oxygen and he’d been deprived far too long. It didn’t occur to me that there was a chance I was his first kiss since before he shipped out in the ’40’s. “I don’t wanna stop,” he mumbled against my lips. “Then don’t,” I replied, breathing in his soft exhales, “We’ll stay up all night doing this.” Bucky chuckled, pulling away from my mouth to turn his head and press tender kisses to the palm I’d been cradling his cheek in. He tugged me closer then, my hands winding around his shoulders and his face burying itself in my neck. My laugh at the sensation of his scruff quickly morphed to a moan as he planted drawn out kisses against every inch of the bruises our encounter with Walker in Riga had left me with. I extended my neck to give him better access, feeling his lips twist in a wicked grin as his ministrations caused my breathing to quicken. “Okay, if you keep doing this,” I gasped, trying to steady my voice, “We’re gonna be up all night doing something else.” He pecked the column of my neck once more before pulling his head out and facing me, still smiling. I pressed my forehead to his and he nuzzled his nose against mine, still desperate to keep any contact he could.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Bucky confessed, rubbing his metal hand up and down my back, “Thought about it in Riga, when we were fighting, in the alleyway…”

“Me too,” I agreed, grinning uncontrollably, “But you know why I’m glad it didn’t happen till now?” Bucky hummed questioningly, “Because this is the longest we’ve been together without someone interrupting us.”

Bucky chortled loud enough for me to feel the need to cover his mouth, causing me to laugh myself. I never thought that there would come a day where the two of us would be sitting on my couch in the middle of the night, as lighthearted as could be. This was a slice of heaven after all that we’d been through. “Do you believe me now when I say my opinion of you is never gonna change?” Bucky asked. Had he not proven to me that it was true, I wouldn’t have believed it. I’d have punished the both of us for the rest of my life. “As long as you believe me when I say that I know you’ll never hurt me.” I knew that there was so many layers to his pain, most that I would never understand, but he couldn’t keep a part of himself hidden forever. If we were going to do this, we were going do it wholeheartedly, taking the best and the worst parts of each other. The unlovable would never go unloved as long as we were together.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, tightening the arm around my waist and bringing the other to my face, “Okay.” He pulled me down to press his lips to each of my cheeks, landing one last one to my mouth.

Our kisses became longer and softer, signaling that though we were both eager to explore this new territory, exhaustion was running the show. We eventually slowed down to where Bucky’s face rested in the juncture where my neck met my shoulder while my head rested against his, one arm wrapped around his shoulders and a hand running through his hair. My lips laid featherlight kisses against his temple every few minutes, taking advantage of the fact that I could do so freely now. I could feel his hot breath hit my skin at such a leisurely pace that if it hadn’t have been for his metal thumb rubbing my waist every once in a while, I’d have thought he’d fallen asleep. Eventually, when my eyelids began to shut against my will, Bucky shifted on the couch to lay both of us down. I settled naturally on top of him, my head against his chest and a hand resting on each of his broad shoulders. Just when I thought in my drowsy haze that nothing could make the moment any more perfect, Bucky pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of my head and tightened his arms around my back, securing my body to his.

This was peace.

This was right.

This was what we deserved.

——

At the sound of hushed voices and grunts, my eyes slowly opened. I blinked a few times and made out the sight of my nephews, AJ throwing punches and Cass deflecting them with the shield that had laid in the hallway for days. After days spent witnessing some of the worst the world had to offer, this was the purity that I needed to see.

“Bucky…” I whispered, he inhaled sharply as he awoke with one arm slung over my waist and the other hung over the edge of the couch. I tapped his chest and pointed to my nephews, still oblivious to our presence.

“Hey,” Bucky called, his morning voice rougher than it was the rest of the day.

The boys jumped at the sound, Cass shoving the shield back in its case and him and AJ running as soon as it hit the ground with mischievous smiles on their faces. I laughed softly, looking up to see Bucky lazily smiling. I had the best view in the world, close enough to see the lines that drew his grin up, so different from the frowning ones I was so used to seeing. When he tilted his head down and our eyes met, his smile made no effort to lessen itself.

“Morning,” he said, bringing a hand up to stroke the top of my head.

“Morning,” I replied, shimmying up his body and taking hold of his cheeks, our lips meeting in early morning bliss, “We’re in deep shit.” “Why’s that?” he asked.

“The boys can’t keep a secret to save their lives,” I chuckled, “So you need to enjoy your last day alive because Sam is going to kill you.” Bucky wrinkled his nose as he laughed, “Thanks for the warning.” I dropped my head back to his chest, picking up one of his dog tags in my hand and reading his name pressed in the metal. I’d never been a big believer in fate, but as I rubbed a thumb over the necklace I was reminded that Bucky and I should have never met. He should have been long gone by now, Captain America’s childhood friend who met a tragic end before he could see the war won. He wasn’t supposed to be here, warming my body with his and pressing the sweetest kisses I’d ever known to my skin. Our being together defied time itself.

“Seeing them, the boys…” Bucky began, still stroking my hair, “I think I get what you and Sam were talking about back in Maryland.”

I rested my chin on his pec to see him, his gaze focused on the ceiling in deep thought. “Steve giving him the shield…It’s not the same at all.”

I shook my head, sadly, giving confirmation to his revelation. I didn’t begrudge him for not understanding right away, unless you were in Sam’s shoes you could only have so much of an understanding. The unrelenting way that Bucky had pushed him was what had caused me to call him out on several occasions. But if the week we’d had with our confrontation with the police, meeting Isaiah and coming to Delacroix had finally shown him the flaw in his thinking, I was glad. “I think you should talk to him,” I suggested. He scoffed, “I think I owe him a lot more than that.

“Well, he’s probably already out on the boat. And I,” I groaned as I sat up, straddling Bucky’s hips, “Promised the boys that I’d take them to school so we both need to get up.” Bucky made a similar sound as he swung his legs over the couch, pivoting my body so that we were in a similar position we’d been in in the middle of the night. He took my face in his hand and gave a kiss so long, I knew I’d feel the ghost of his lips until the next time I was able to feel the real thing. To think just hours before I’d been hellbent on convincing him that we couldn’t allow ourselves to act on our feelings. Here I was now struggling to let go of him to spend an hour apart at most.

The giggling on the other side of the wall broke the spell though.

Bucky and I broke apart with a shared smile. “See you in a bit,” I whispered, pressing my hands to his chest and pushing off of him to disappear around the corner.

After dressing for the day, I corralled the boys into my car. I could practically hear their predictable thoughts and feel their eyes boring into the back of my head as I shut my door. “There’s donuts with both your names on them if you promise not to tell Uncle Sam what you saw this morning.”

A resounding chorus of enthusiastic ‘okays’ reminded me that I was the best aunt in the world who made the worst parenting decisions.

——

By nothing short of a miracle, Bucky was still alive when I returned.

We worked on the boat with familiar stolen glances and secret smirks when Sam had his back turned. At some point Sarah kicked the two of them off the boat for attempting to repair the water pump, something she’d been repairing and Bucky and I were forced to separate. As the two men departed the dock, he turned around to catch one last look at me and flashed the smile I’d seen more of in the last twelve hours than I had all week.

“You wanna tell me what changed from last night?” Sarah’s voice broke me out of the daze I was in.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at that man with googly eyes all day,” she climbed aboard the boat, “You’re also lucky that our brother is clueless.”

I rolled my eyes and bumped my hip against hers, “Freakin’ mom vision, can’t get anything past you.” “I’m just glad you got out of your own way, he seems like a good guy,” Sarah smiled, “He’s also fine as hell, if you haven’t noticed. If you wouldn’t have gone for it, I might have.” Our loud laughter mixed together as I whacked her with the towel I’d been using to clean an oil stain off of the boat.

Later that day, after finishing helping my sister with a few repairs we could get done without interruptions from Sam and Bucky, I wandered to our backyard to behold a sight I never thought I’d see. Sam was throwing the shield around while Bucky stood beside him. I stopped at the side of the house to watch, the Vibranium bouncing off of training pads from our garage that were strapped to the tree. Since Sam had brought the shield home six months ago, I’d never seen him do more than pick it up and look at it every once in a while. He’d kept it stored away in his bedroom in its casing, AJ and Cass hadn’t even seen it until he’d left it in the hall after returning from Maryland. To see him wielding it now felt…right. He looked just as natural with it as Steve had. Bucky had made a 180 as well, he looked content watching Sam as he caught the shield in its return journey back to them. If I hadn’t watched them bicker like schoolchildren for the better portion of the week, I’d have mistaken them for friends. “Are you telling me that you two could’ve man-hugged it out back in that interrogation room?” I shouted as I watched them clasp hands and pull each other in, “Coulda spared yourselves a lot of discomfort.”

They both laughed and turned to face me, in an effort to save time as I made my way out to where they stood. “So what’s new?” I asked with a knowing smile, eyeing Sam as he held the shield at his side

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied, “And a little bit of everything.”

I chuckled before my eyes inevitably found Bucky’s, who was already waiting for me with an outstretched palm. “Can I talk to you a minute?” “Yeah,” I reached out and intwined our fingers. “Whoa! Wait, wait, wait,” Sam boomed, gesturing to our locked hands, “What the hell is this?”

“Something new,” I shrugged, looking up and matching Bucky’s smile.

Sam groaned in disgust, “You’ve been here twenty four hours, Barnes, you couldn’t’ve kept your hands off my sister? I-I can’t even look at this, it’s sickening, ugh…” he turned his back to us and began his walk back to the house, spinning around quickly and stuttering, “You know what? I-“ he closed his mouth and shook his head, “Uh-uh, nope, can’t do it.” Bucky and I both snorted as we watched him leave, voicing his displeasure to himself. I looked down and noticed the packed duffle bag that rested at Bucky’s feet, “I get the feeling there’s something you need to tell me?” He sighed, reaching blindly to weave his fingers with my other hand’s set. “There’s something I gotta go do. A couple somethings actually. I talked to Sam, or at least he talked to me,” one corner of his mouth quirked up, “This whole making amends thing, I haven’t been doing the greatest job of it. There’s too many names in that book that don’t have closure about what happened to someone they loved. If I stand a chance at putting what happened in the past, I gotta go ‘do the work’.”

I rubbed my thumb over his smooth metal knuckle, staring down at the space between us. “Yeah, you do,” I looked up at him, “Recovery sucks, there’s no sophisticated way of putting it. Sam and I have both seen the ugly side of it. But you owe it to yourself to work as hard as you can for your freedom, as difficult as it can be sometimes.” Bucky leaned down to press his forehead against mine. “If it hadn’t’ve been for you, I might not have believed that. I wanna get better for you too, to try and be the man you deserve.”

I hummed and bit down on my bottom lip, smiling widely. “So…you kinda like me.” “Yeah,” Bucky chuckled softly, “Just a little bit.”

The warmth I felt radiating through me, brought on by nothing more than a touch of our hands and a shared smile powered me in a way my energy never could. “Go,” I said after a few seconds of silence, “Do whatever you need to do. I think there’s some things here that I need to take care of myself.” Bucky pulled back to look my face over as if to commit every inch to his memory before holding the back of my head and pressing a kiss to my lips. Perhaps it was cruel that I had just gotten him and now had to let him go for an undetermined period of time. But his recovery meant more to me than any amount of heart pounding touches or earth shattering kisses he could give. If we ever had a shot of making it, we needed to go to our separate corners and heal.

I hesitantly broke away from his lips first, rubbing mine together after to memorize the taste he’d left. “If I don’t let you go now, I won’t be able to…” “It won’t be forever,” he shook his head, bumping his nose against mine, “Sam’s gonna call me if he gets a lead on Karli.” Rather than keep him longer with my insecurities about jumping back into hero work now knowing who my father had truly been, I decided that dealing with that was for my personal healing. I reached my arms up to wind around his neck, his finding their new home around my waist and for a split second in time, nothing else mattered. There was just me, Bucky and the future I hoped we had ahead of us. I memorized the feel of him, the rise and fall of his chest against mine, his soft hair between my fingers, the scratch of his stubble against my neck. I hadn’t had time to daydream about Bucky since recognizing my feelings for him but even if I had, they’d have never done the real thing near justice.

“Stay safe, Sergeant,” I said, pulling back to peck his lips one last time and releasing him from my hold.

Bucky picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, giving my hand one more squeeze and holding it as he started to walk backwards. Once we reached a point where the only way to keep the contact was to follow him, we let go with a brush of our fingers till I was only holding air. With a final shared look, he turned his back to me and started down the dirt path that would lead him from our corner of Louisiana to the rest of the world. In so many ways I felt as if we’d traveled back to 1943 when he’d shipped out for England. I was sending him off to another war, this time battling his own past. Above any other feeling I felt for Bucky, the one that topped the list was belief. I believed in him more than he believed in himself and I wanted that to change. He could do it and once he did, there was no telling just how happy we could be.

But I in turn had to deal with my own demons.

——

While I wish I could have said I had a plan like Bucky’s, I had no idea what the first step was to healing past what my father had done.

HYDRA wasn’t a topic that I could just plop down on a therapist’s couch and start discussing, there were only so many people I could talk to about it. I found myself wishing that Steve was still around, next to Bucky he was the world’s leading expert on how much damage the organization could do. Without a blueprint of how to begin mending my wounds, I was left to wallow in my own grief over the man I’d believed my dad to be. Sam, however, was on fire.

After him, Sarah and I had made the unanimous decision that the boat was too important to our family to part with, he had launched into the most intense training I’d ever seen him put himself through. He was both blowing me away and not surprising me at all with his dedication.

One morning, I came outside at his normal time to come home from his 6AM run with a cup of coffee for me and a Gatorade for him. On cue, he came jogging up the dirt path I’d watched Bucky leave on days ago.

“You’re inhuman,” I said, tossing him the drink as he approached, “I’m convinced of it.” “It’s nothin’ you couldn’t be doing,” he panted.

“Yeah, I can run with you or I can get up before sunrise. A combo deal is not gonna happen,” I chortled before taking a sip of my coffee.

Sam joined me and sat down beside me on our back porch, the view of the blue waters a perfect accent to the almost fully risen sun. “Look, I don’t wanna know any details but…you and Bucky?”

I smiled as I stared down into my mug, just the thought of him causing happiness to bloom in my chest. “It was kinda happening the whole time, it just took us a while to realize it.” Sam groaned, taking a long swig of his drink. “That’s all I need to know, as long as you both are happy and not too disgusting with each other,” he looked out the corner of his eyes at me, “I think I can live with it.” “Well, that’s mighty big of you,” I patted his sweaty shoulder, instantly regretting the decision and wiping my palm on my bathrobe, “That shield starting to feel like it’s yours?” Sam chuckled, “It doesn’t feel like it’s not mine anymore, it’s…weird. Talking with Isaiah was sobering and he’s allowed to be as bitter as he wants. The man’s earned to right to feel anything after what he’s been through. But,” he sighed, “I couldn’t let it go. All that pain and suffering, I can’t let it go to waste.” “You couldn’t not be a hero even if you tried,” I shook my head in amazement, beaming with pride at my brother, “I’m proud of you.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” he hit my knee with the back of his hand, “I’ve got Torres working on some things, hopefully we can figure out where Karli might be going next-“ I couldn’t lead both him and Bucky to believe I was seriously considering going back to the fight. “I’m gonna stop you right there,” I held up a hand, “When you find them, it’s gonna be just you and Bucky. I’m out.” He furrowed his brows and twisted to face me fully, “Why?” “I can’t be the hero I thought I could, not after what I found out. It would only be a matter of time till somebody looked me up and figured out who my father was, then what? Some ex-HYDRA member comes looking for me? The public loses trust in me to protect them? Your reputation gets damaged when they realize I’m your sister?” I dropped my head down to stare at my lap, “It’s a bad idea. HYDRA doesn’t breed heroes.”

A beat of silence was played before my brother gave his rebuttal. “Look at me,” I dragged my eyes away from my engrossing coffee to him, “I couldn’t give two shits what people think about you being my sister, cause you know what? They don’t know you. They don’t know what you’ve done to try and stop the Flag Smashers, how you saved my life in that warehouse or how you helped keep our family going for five years. They don’t know how stubborn and caring and how much of a hero you are without your powers,” he paused and smirked at me, “And they’re never gonna know that if you don’t show them. What your dad did was horrible, but you’re not the one that did it. If you didn’t let his secret hold you back from being with Bucky, why’re you letting it hold you back from something else you want? You don’t need to be proud of being his daughter, but you need to make peace with it.”

He was right, as if he could ever be anything other than. Sam was counseling me like a sister but also like one of the countless veterans he’d helped wracked with guilt. I didn’t know if I’d ever fully recover from the hurt that came with the revelation, but if I kept on going how I was, I’d be a complete hypocrite. If Bucky could face the victims of his crimes and confess to them, I should’ve been able to deal with my ghosts. All I’d ever wanted to do was help people, to use that mutated gene of mine to help right wrongs. To do that, I needed to do the work. “This is a far cry from a few days ago when you were ready to send me packing,” I retorted. “Well,” Sam chuckled, “You proved me wrong. Fighting with you by my side just felt right, made me wish you could’ve been there for ‘em all.”

The fact that I had shown him that I could keep up with him was astounding, I honestly didn’t think it would ever happen. But with his approval, I’d have to have been an idiot to walk away from it all.

“Good talk,” I smiled, patting his leg while taking one last sip of my coffee before handing it to him.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Making peace with it.”

——

The drive from Delacroix to New Orleans had always relaxed me. The disappearance of the deep bayous as the scenery slowly changed to city, the ever present cypress trees, the hour travel time always gave me time to think. Something I was thankful for today especially.

I parked my car outside my destination, making the long trek through the cemetery I’d visited every week as a child. My feet automatically as I passed the neat rows of above ground tombs until I reached where I needed to be.

Keeping a safe distance away, I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets and took a deep breath. “Hi,” I whispered, greeting my father’s tomb as if I expected it to speak back to me. “Um…I don’t know if you can hear me wherever you are but…there’s some things I need to talk to you about.” My eyes began to water, partially from the wind hitting my face but mostly from the tears that had been waiting to spring free. “Why’d you do it, Dad?” I whispered against the lump in my throat, “I don’t understand how you could ever have been a part of something so destructive. You were the last person I would have ever believed could have done something like this. You were my hero,” I looked down at the ground between us, “I never thought you’d end up being the villain.” I drew a shaky breath and continued, “I watched your guilt over your ‘time in the service’ tear you apart to a point where you thought death was the only way out so…I think it’s safe to assume you felt bad about what you’d done. I watched you every day try to be a good father to me and Mel, you didn’t succeed all the time but you did your best. I know you loved us…” “Somehow,” I dug the heel of my sneaker into my the dirt, “I’m trying to find it in me to forgive you, Dad. For the pain your secret’s brought me, for what your name could do to the rest of my life, for lying…But the one thing I don’t know how to forgive you for is what you did to Bucky,” the tears that I’d finally gotten under control threatened to start again, “Because Dad, he means the world to me and to know that you were behind that pain that’s running his life…It makes me want to hate you. And the saddest part is that I know you would have loved him if you’d ever gotten a chance to meet the real him.”

“The way I see it, I can’t undo the damage you did to the world,” my voice found its strength, “But what you did isn’t going to dictate what I do with my life. I’ve only ever wanted to do good, however I can, that’s what I’m going to do. I know that you wanted me to keep my powers hidden, probably because you didn’t want anyone to find me, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t pay the price for your sins. So I’m gonna fight and I’m gonna try to rewrite our family’s legacy.”

“Anyway, that’s, uh, that’s all I wanted to say,” I took a slow step forward and placed a hand over the stone tomb, “I wish…I wish things would have turned out different.”

With one last gaze upon my father’s final resting place, I left the same way I’d come, for once not having to fake the confidence I was feeling.

——

“Oh, oh, it’s going…” I teased.

“Give it back!” Sam yelled! “It’s going!”

“Y/n!”

I levitated the shield further away from Sam and slid it across the ground into the boy’s soccer net, AJ and Cass chasing me as I did. I’d only just shown them that their aunt could make stuff fly and we were currently engaged in an intense game of keep away with Sam.

“AJ! Grab it!” I yelled, my nephew hurrying to the net and lifting the shield, stumbling a little as he took off running with it on his arm. I threw up a force field around Sam, who was gaining on him, “Oh no!” Sam was laughing the whole time as he tried to punch his way out of the bubble encasing him. “Go go go!” I cried, watching the boys run off with the shield into the house, dropping the field once they were inside.

“You’re the worst influence on them, you know that right?” Sam chuckled as we slowly made our way towards the front door.

“Hey, I don’t want them thinking their uncle’s the only cool one in the family,” I replied as we entered the house, pulling out my phone to check the notifications I’d feel vibrating in my back pocket. One was a news alert. “Sam.” “Huh?” I tossed him my phone and hurried through the house till I reached the television, flipping to the news to see the article come to life. The GRC was voting in New York on the Patch Act, a movement that would move twenty million refugees back to their home country.

“Shit,” I mumbled, feeling Sam’s presence behind me. His phone rang to announce a call. “It’s Torres,” he held out the phone and revealed the man’s face. “Sorry this took so long, spare you the technical details, but I finally got results for the scans you asked for and I think we’re onto something,” Torres explained as Sam and I went to look at his computer, displaying a map of Europe that lit up with bright red circles. “When we look back, all these pings, they’re from places just before the Flag Smashers hit. Clearly, they’re all over Europe. Earlier today, we got one from New York. Now, I can’t promise you they’re not using a VPN or masking their location, but…” I’d stopped listening after he’d said ‘New York,’ and turned my attention to the tv, every piece of the puzzle was coming together. Karli wouldn’t be physically able to hold herself back from interfering with the vote. “Great work, Joaquin,” Sam said, his eyes trained on the screen along with me, “We’ll take it from here,” he hung up the call and turned to me, “Time to get to work. Come with me.” He rose from his chair and led me to the coat closet nearest to the front door, opening it up to pull out a large silver case and handing it to me. “I don’t know what’s in it, Bucky just told me to hold onto it until the time came where you’d need it,” Sam stated, “I’m thinking that’s now.” Confusedly, I carried it out and up to my bedroom, placing it on my mattress and trying to figure out how to open it. There was no keyhole, only a bar that hosted a red screen. My finger brushed over it, the action turning it blue and the case automatically released an air lock I didn’t know it had. Waiting a few seconds to make sure nothing popped out, I carefully opened the box to see something I couldn’t have predicted in a million years. Resting on top of the surprise was a note on the nicest stationary I’d ever seen…

You may be able to kick my ass, but I’m never gonna stop trying to protect you.

- Bucky

I breathed a soft laugh, holding the paper in my hand and imagining Bucky hunched over a table, writing the words that were now lodged in my heart. “Sam,” I called out, leaving the case open and rushing across the hall to my brother’s room, “Sam, it’s-“ All words disappeared and all thoughts halted at the sight of him opening up his own case, I didn’t need to see its contents to make an educated guess at what was inside of it. There were a dozen emotions playing out on Sam’s face, wonder, apprehension, excitement, shock…Every one of them valid but none of them coming close to the amount of pure determination in his eyes.

I watched from the doorway, smiling, “Ready when you are, Cap.”

----

A/N: AHHH. Only two chapters left, hope this one lived up to your expectations. Getting your messages and comments and asks have been making my days and I’m so glad people are enjoying this little ride I’m taking us all on. Let me know what you thought and/or if you’d like to be tagged for the remainder of the series!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebos @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse @living-that-best-life @haphazardhufflepuff @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20 @missstef23 @qhbr2013 @sebby-stann @bluemoon-icecream @iixbella @lets-love-little-me @abitofeverythinggg @itsnottilly @sltwins @mads-weasley @hart-failure @natdrunk @nctma15

#bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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beskar-cowboy · 4 years

Text

The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight

Part 4 of The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight Series

Summary: You catch an accidental glimpse of the Mandalorian without his helmet, his instincts kick in. (4.4k words) link to read on ao3 here

Warnings: NSFW, Mando is kind of mean, the helmet is off but its still canon?, PIV sex, rough sex, he low-key kinda threatens the reader idk, spanking, soft ending to make up for whatever the fuck i just wrote <3

A/N: this series will be uploaded in a non-linear order! i realize that this way of doing things might not be everyone’s favourite so please let me know if you would like to be notified when all the parts are uploaded (linearly in my masterlist) <3

Perhaps swaddling the child to your chest on a desert planet was not the smartest idea. The heat was blistering, even though you wore less layers than usual. Just a tank top, some utility shorts and a blaster holstered to your thigh. And the baby of course, who had not stopped babbling since you left the ship, the only thing distracting you from this damned heat.

You could only imagine how Mando was feeling underneath all that beskar as he walked alongside you in silence, only stealing glances every now and then, as he usually did.

Even after travelling with them for half a cycle now, Mando still withheld so much from you.

Even after the two of you slept together for the first time, after some close call on some jungle planet, he still retreated into his usual silence.

But there were more gentle touches now, more lingering hands, more helmet tilts, but he still hadn’t let you in. You were okay with that, you knew that this was what he was used to, so you didn’t think too much about it.

You let him take what he needs without asking too many prying questions. If you were being honest, you liked the way he used you, you liked how he took it out on you, you liked how rough he got, how possessive, how starved he could be.

It had only amounted to a couple of times over the last month but… but you loved it. You looked forward to it, you thought about it, dreamt of… dreamt of him, of Mando, inside you, above you, under you-

Mando squeezed his large hand around your bicep, breaking you from your thoughts before nodding to you, then he departed. Off to meet with… whoever.

You stayed in the market and bought stuff for the ship.

Some new screws and bolts for parts that were missing or had to be fixed, food rations, dried meat, fruits that you knew Mando was fond of, some weird, shiny little trinkets the child seemed attracted to, and a new bar of soap. You had just finished the last one a few days prior.

After buying the necessities, you wandered around the little market with the child, bouncing him up and down against your chest and talking to him softly. He was very responsive today, not seeming too bothered by the heat thankfully.

But the sun was high in the sky, most likely at its peak, and it was unrelenting. The desert environment of the planet gave way to little shaded spots so you looked for water instead, finding a little mist station where children laughed and played. You ran through it a few times with the child, he screeched with joy.

On your last run through the mist, you caught sight of Mando approaching the two of you again.

That saunter… the way he walked was so intimidating, so sensual. You couldn’t help but let a shy smile stretch across your face at the people who cowered away in fear of the bounty hunter.

You made sure you had all your things in your sling, checking to see that the child hadn’t dropped his new toy and then you were off, heading back to the ship.

The walk felt longer now due to the long exposure you both had in the sun. Mando seemed to be trudging along just the same as you, profusely sweating and in desperate need for some water. And a shower.

Mando opened the hatch and you both stumbled inside, dropping your bags and untying the child from your chest where he had left a giant sweat stain from how tightly he had been pressed to you. Suddenly aware of how sweaty, sticky and disgusting you must seem, the only thing on your mind was a shower.

“I got you some Meiloorun, they seemed ripe.” You smiled at him as you gently placed the child on the floor of the Crest. He waddled towards his father, trying to show him his new toy.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He said in your direction, that deep modulated voice making you shiver. He seemed hesitant to look away, but picked up the child regardless, letting him show off his new shiny thing. Mando took it into his hands, playing with him, you smiled fondly.

“I’m going to go take a shower if that’s okay? To cool down a bit.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to ask his permission after all this time but you still felt the need sometimes. Maybe he would want help putting the stuff away that you had bought, maybe he wanted you to help with the child or something? You just couldn’t help the way your mind only fixated on the sweat and grime sticking to your flesh.

“Of course.” Mando nodded. You nodded back, turning on your heels to head into the ‘fresher just around the corner in the low cabin of the Crest.

You leave the door open, you think you don’t mind Mando seeing you if he decides to look or happens to catch a glimpse. Even though he’s never taken any of his armor off (besides his gloves) for you before, he’s seen every single inch of you.

You quickly peeled off your damp clothing, turning the water on and making sure it wasn’t too cold but cool enough to relax your heat exhausted body. You stepped in quickly, eager to cool yourself down.

You visibly relaxed as soon as the water hit your burning skin, your shoulders sagging, a sighing escaping your lips. You dug your fingers into your own flesh, trying to knead the tender muscles which strained under the weight of the child and the supplies. It wasn’t much but you still ached, the heat had definitely contributed to that.

Supplies… your new bar of soap! You had been excited to use it but completely forgot about it the second you returned to the ship, mind wiped blank by the desire to rid yourself of your dirty clothes.

Suddenly thankful you left the door to the refresher open, you stick your head out from behind the curtain and call for Mando, wondering if he could retrieve the sparkly blue soap bar for you.

Instead of being met with an empty doorway, you’re met with something else. And it’s as if the world moved around you in slow motion, your emotions moving over you like molasses.

First, confusion.

Hair. A head full of light brown, golden hair. It curled near the ends, into little wisps. It couldn’t be-

No. That couldn’t be Mando. It was as if your brain refused to acknowledge the shiny beskar that sat underneath that head of hair, refusing to realize it was the tin covered man you were looking at.

Second, curiosity.

Your eyes scanned over his head, taking in the way the bathroom light shined over his hair, making it reflect all different shades of brown and caramel.

It was now that you realized that his head was turning, that’s why the light was bouncing off it so dynamically.

His head continued to turn. An ear.

Third, shock.

It was only when you saw the sliver of skin, the shell of his ear, the inner workings of the intricate cartilage, and the profile of his supple cheekbone that you let out a startled, and perhaps unnecessary, shriek.

Your hands flew up to cover your eyes, to shield them from the forbidden view. You turned back into the shower, facing the wall, away from Mando.

He saw more of you than you had of him. He saw the way your chest heaved, the way the water flew off your body as you twirled to face the tiled wall of the shower, away from him. He watched the water hit your back-

You had seen him. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

He hated the way his instincts kicked in. He hated the way he was trained to kill whoever saw him, whoever looked, whoever dared unmask him.

Almost innately, his hand reached for the light switch, plunging the refresher into darkness as he stalked towards you, pressing his hand to your head and pinning you against the cool tile of the shower forcefully and efficiently.

Mando’s body followed suit, bringing both of you underneath the steady shower stream, pinning himself against your backside. The cold bite of his beskar in contrast to the cool water making you whimper, the force of his hand pressing your cheek into the wall made you see stars behind closed eyelids.

“What did you see?” He asked, voice gruff, strained, unmodulated.

Fuck.

Of all the months you had spent aboard the Razor Crest, living with him, fucking him, you had never heard his voice without the helmet, without some sort of barrier. You regret the way it made you moan, how easily he could make you melt.

“N-nothing, I didn’t-”

“What did you see?” He pressed onto your harder, with his hand and his body weight, pining you completely to the wall, making you at his mercy. You cry out at his cold touch, at his harshness. Mando had been frustrated, even angry, with you before but now… now he was about to truly end you.

But all you could think about was how beautiful his real voice sounded. It always sounded beautiful to you, from the moment you met him, it had made you weak, but this… this was unlike anything you could have imagined.

“Hair,” you cry, unsure if you were truly crying or if it was just water from the endless stream running above both of you now. “I s-saw your hair, your ear… I-I’m sorry-” You hiccup, trying to regain your breath and not inhale too much water as your chest heaved.

Without the helmet Mando was quickly realizing that he could genuinely hear you for the first time, your trembling voice ringing through his ears without being slightly distorted by the helmet’s filters. He could….

He could smell you too. The sweet scent of your skin, of your wet hair tangling in his fingers as he continued to hold you in between the tiles and his unforgiving beskar.

You… the sight of you pinned against him, your wet skin, water dripping down your flesh in rivulets, your whimpers, your cries, your tears, the way your eyes closed, the way you kept them closed even now, drowning in darkness, your cheek flush against the tile.

Completely at his mercy.

You weren’t even fighting him.

“Fuck.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against your temple. You whimpered at his sudden movement, so on edge.

You knew he was trained to kill. You knew what happened to people who even attempted to look at him. You had seen it, you had been there when it happened once, ignorant vendors trying to taunt him, trying to tease the Mandalorian. How stupid they were, now dead somewhere in a ditch. Would he do that to you? It would be so easy for him...

Mando wondered if you could see him in the darkness as well as he could see you. He knew you couldn’t, the lack of windows deprived the room of any light sources. Luckily, his eyes were trained and used to harsh environments, low visibility. Luckily, he could see you trembling against him.

He removed his hand from your head, sliding both of his hands now to hold your hips, digging his blunt nails into the flesh, leaving crescent moon-shaped indents behind. You yelped at the sting but didn’t pull away. You liked it.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop talking.” He growled and you bit your lip, unaware that you had opened your eyes due to the deep, dark abyss you had been plunged into.

You could truly not see a thing. All your senses became focused on the way Mando touched you, the way he’s wedged you between the wall and himself, the death grip he had on your hips, the way his breaths came out quickly and evenly onto your cheek. He was breathing almost as hard as you were.

He nudged his nose onto your cheek and you nudge your cheek back onto him, trying to remind him that it was just you, that you’re not a threat, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

This is The Way. This is The Way… This is The Way… This… is-

Fuck. You were distracting him. Your little whimpers, the way you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. So willing, you were always so willing for him. So fucking easy and it drove him crazy.

His skin… it felt so good against yours. You had only felt the rough, rarely tender caress of his rough palms. Never of his face, his lips, his nose… You felt like you were being driven insane, you couldn't believe how close his unmasked face was to yours.

You could kiss him…

Mando continued to rub his nose against you, suddenly so lost in the feel of your skin against his. No one had ever been so close to him, so invasively close, breathing in and breathing out the same air, sharing. Feeling your eyelashes flutter against his own, your lips, open panting, swollen and pliant and inviting. He could… he could-

“Mando-”

You’re cut off by his hand suddenly slithering down your body and cupping your cunt. You gasp, unable to help the way your hips involuntarily rock into his hand, into his own hips as well, feeling a growing hardness between his legs.

You were hot, so, so hot down between your thighs. Slippery too, and Mando knew it wasn’t just the water. It was thick, sticking to his fingers, practically begging for him. Mando groaned against your open lips, both of you panting into each other’s open mouths.

“You... you fucking like this, don’t you?” He rasped, biting onto the side of your bottom lip. You whimpered, hips bucking into his hand again. What were you supposed to say? How were you to answer that?

Yes Mando, I like how fucking intimidating you are.

Yes Mando, I like how much bigger you are than me, how easy it would be for you to snap me like a twig.

Yes Mando, I like when you’re rough with me, I get off on it, I crave it, I-

“Fucking answer me.” Mando growls, latching his teeth onto your earlobe now. His hand continued to cup your sex, not truly going anywhere near where you needed him. You still couldn’t fucking comprehend that he was without his helmet, his face right next to yours…

“Yes!” You squeaked as his fingers brushed along the inside of your folds, parting you, dragging his fingers along the length of you, slipping through your sweet cyprine. You let out an unholy moan, so ashamed at how easy you were for him.

Mando kisses your ear, trails his tongue down your neck, collecting the water that pebbles down your flesh as if it were syrup.

This… is, The Way. This is- The Way-

His fingers brush up against your clit accidentally and you buck into him again, desperate for any sort of friction, any sort of attention he could give you.

Mando was trying to calm himself down. He had just been on the brink of snapping your neck and now he was overcome with lust, the desire to fuck you, stuff you full of his cock. The two extremes were dizzying, he felt drunk off of some fancy and expensive cider from some far off planet in The Core. But he supposes that’s just what you did to him.

Before he even realizes it, he’s unzipping his pants, letting the top fall undone and pulling his cock out, letting it rest against your backside. You bite your lip, trying to turn your head to look towards him but your eyes are unable to adjust, you feel as though you can see the outline of his face but… but you’re sure it’s an illusion of the dark.

“Please, Mando-” You weren’t one to beg, Mando wasn’t one to make you beg because he was always as desperate, always as pent up, touch-starved, hungry as you were.

When you two fucked it was never slow, never drawn out, never languid, luxurious. No, it was rough, mean, volatile, desperate and just fucking needy. You needed each other, and Mando fucked you like it would always be the last time, every time. Like he would never have you again, like he would never split you open again.

Mando shoves his entire length into you in one hard thrust, knocking the wind out of you from how deep he reaches so easily at this angle. He rests for a moment, savouring the way your pussy flutters and clenches around him from the sudden intrusion, trying to adjust to his substantial length.

His head pressed right up against yours, he can hear all the pretty sounds you're making, even over the loud patter of water against his beskar which begins to weigh him down from how soaking wet it's getting.

But Mando doesn’t care, he can’t, not when you’re whimpering for him in that pretty way you do, not when you clench so tight around him that he feels like he could cum without even having moved. You beg, you beg and beg and beg for him to move but he just closes his eyes and feels you pulse, hot and tight and snug around him with that perfect little cunt of yours.

You hadn’t seen him, he thinks to himself. You hadn’t actually seen him, he’s okay, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

You.

Quivering at the end of his cock, moaning, grasping at the tiles, trying to find purchase on something, taking him all the way in like you always do, like a good fucking girl.

He hadn’t even realized that he had started thrusting, in and out with reckless abandon, bottoming out every single time before pounding back into you, making you whimper and cry.

“W-what’s my name?” He asks suddenly, pulling you from floating away towards whatever astral plane you were near close to ascending too, the one his thrusts were pushing you towards as he rearranged you from the inside out.

You had to think, you had to think of his name because your find was blank, he was fucking you dumb.

“Mando.” You whimper, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against the cold tiles, keeping your head turned so that he could keep his face pressed into your cheek, nose nudging yours, lips brushing but not kissing.

“No… what’s my fucking name?” He grits from behind clenched teeth, punctuating his words between harsh, unforgiving thrusts. You hiccup, unable to swallow down air properly as he fucks you into the wall.

His name?

What did he-

Oh.

His name. Mando had never told you his name, his actual name.

Was this a test? You shook your head ‘no’ as his arms wrapped around you, locking you in place as his ungloved hands came to grope at your breasts, using your own body as leverage to fuck into you harder. You let out a wanton moan, throwing your head back, letting it rest on his beskar covered shoulder. You turned your head and let your lips brush against his cheek but he turned his head too, lips brushing against his own and you both gasped and whimpered in unison. He seemed insistent on not kissing you, so you just went along with it, all your wits being literally fucked out of you.

“I-I don’t know.” You finally answered, your voice coming out small, between laboured breaths.

You didn’t know him, he thought. He still had something of his identity held in privacy, you didn’t know him, you didn’t know him.

“You don’t- you don’t know me,” He begins to say and it makes you cry, you cry against his mouth, your body shaking, bouncing against his, water beating down on both of you. “B-but you still let me fuck you like this, don’t you sweet girl?”

You scream. You scream when his hand lets go of your left breast only to come back down onto it, slapping the underside of the supple flesh. You wail and cry and moan the only name he’s ever told you.

Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando.

He grabs your jaw in one of his strong hands, angling your face towards his, a sight unseen.

“Answer me when I speak to you, cyar’ika.” He says forcefully, regardless of the nickname.

“Y-yes.” You choke out, trying to nod your head in his tight hold but you barely can. You were right on the brink, you felt as if he were to say one more thing in that deep, rough voice of his you would cum.

“Yes, what?” He grits, fucking your harder, moving his hand down to your neck and pushing you back against the cold tiles, making you yelp and cry for him, at the cool bite of ceramic materials.

“It’s c-cold, Mando.” You whine. He slaps your ass, his hand cracking down on your flesh, no doubt leaving a mark to find again tomorrow. You squeeze your eyes shut, bordering on overstimulation from his cock, his slaps, the water turning colder.

The ship never had a great water supply.

“Answer me.” He fucks you harder, faster, deeper, un-preciously and slaps your ass again, the other cheek this time.

“Y-yes! Yes I..I still l-let you… let you fuck me like this!” You cry and shake against the tile.

Mando’s arms quickly wrap around like they had before, hauling you back into his body. He snakes his hand down and rubs against your clit in fast, precise motions.

Almost instantaneously, your mind goes blank, your eyes roll into the back of your head. One of his arms wraps across your front, against your chest, holding your shoulder in a death grip, his other hand still working on your clit, his thrusts unrelenting as you cum and cum and cum around his thick cock.

“That’s it. That’s it... Good f-fucking girl.” He rasps, holding you tightly, thrusting a few more times before he empties himself inside you with a growl, painting your walls with him, branding you, owning you.

You moan at the sensation, the way his hot cum fills you to the brim before leaking out, back onto his cock and down the backs of your thighs. You both pant, your chest heaving in time with his as he fucks it back into you as deep as it’ll go, stuffing you so, so full of him.

You keep your eyes closed, afraid of opening them, afraid he can see you even in this darkness. Even though you know he can.

Mando stays inside you until he’s softened, relishing in the way your pussy trembles around his girth, sucking him in as deep as you can for as long as possible.

When he eventually does pull out with a low growl, you hear him twist the knobs of the shower, the water suddenly becoming warmer, heating your now freezing skin. All these temperature changes were making you feel light-headed, the rough fuck you just got from Mando not helping your case either.

“Wha-”

“Stay here, warm up.” Mando cuts you off, you hear him step out of the shower.

A series of loud bangs resonate throughout the refresher, making you jump. Only one thing could be that loud. Is he… removing his beskar?

“Mando-”

“You’re always so cold when we’re travelling… can’t believe you were taking a cold shower.” He mumbles to himself, you can imagine him shaking his head. You’re stunned honestly, at how much he’s talking, especially without the helmet, that fact alone still lost on you. His voice was so beautiful, you had thought it to yourself about a hundred times now since you first realized he took the helmet off.

You stand under the warm stream, your quaking shivers slowly dissipating. You feel his presence enter the shower again, this time you can clearly feel his body heat, more flesh. He’s naked.

Mando is standing naked with you in the shower.

You involuntarily step away from him but he catches you, his hand landing on your waist, his hand softly grasping the flesh there. Such a stark contrast to the way he just fucked you into oblivion.

He’s naked.

This man had never removed anything besides his gloves. Even when he fucked you, the armor stayed on. You’re not sure if it was an issue of trust or due to his boundaries or his Creed. But considering he almost just killed you for accidentally seeing his ear and cheek, and was now standing naked with you in the dark… well, maybe it was a bit of both. You were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this, nothing was making sense to you.

The hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, your chests and bellies bump together and you gasp. Mando is firm, you knew this but… but to actually feel him against you, well, you could cry about it honestly.

You felt uncertain about what to do with your hands, unsure if you were allowed to touch him but you tentatively lifted them to his chest anyways, letting them rest against his solid pecs. His skin was soft despite the random series of raised flesh that seemed to brand him, his scars. You don’t think you ever wanted to see someone’s scars, someone’s skin as badly as you do now. But you would right out ask for it, you couldn’t.

You felt Mando lift something to your skin, it was smooth as it glided along your arm, your shoulders, across your back. A fruity, earthy scent filled your nose.

Your bar of soap.

He must have grabbed it before he took off his beskar. You lean into him unknowingly, the hand at your waist moving to hold you against him more easily as he washed you. You let your face rest against his chest, the little spot where his throat meets his collarbones. He smelled like sweat, grime, gun powder, he smelled like Mando.

You pressed your lips to the skin, the skin you knew was tanned and rugged, worn down, tired, in need of more kisses than he would let you give.

At the gentle press of your lips, that’s when Mando speaks again. It’s so hushed amongst the falling water, you almost miss it, but the few words don’t fall deaf to your ears, you hear every letter, every syllable.

“My name...” You look up to where his face would be, trying to imagine what expression he wears as he speaks to you in the dark. Your forehead not too far from his lips, you can almost feel the ghost of them on your flesh.

“My name is Din.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #din djarin #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you

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trampohlena · 3 years

Text

Okay, so after last night’s episode I would just like to say that Supercorp IS Endgame. I’d also like to point out the various reasons as to why Kara and Lena are not only soulmates but true twin flames.

For those reading this post who have never heard of the term twin flame: “A twin flame is your own soul, shared across what appears to be two physical beings. It’s one soul, split into two bodies.” -Google’s definition.

For those who are spiritually inclined and have a proclivity for indulging esoteric philosophies; Lena and Kara are ABSOLUTELY twin FUCKING flames 🔥🔥🔥!!

Here are the reasons why:

1. Their drastically different childhoods that resulted in remarkably similar trauma.

Both Kara and Lena have experienced great loss throughout their life. Both mourned the death of their parents, and life as they knew it, at a very early age. Both were shipped off to a foreign land, forced to leave behind everything they knew, in hopes for a brighter/safer future.

Albeit, Lena got the shorter end of the stick in regards to unconditional love, but both were given a second chance and a new start...and yet, they still never fit in, or felt like they truly belonged.

Although they individually have dealt with said trauma in different ways (Lena by pushing away those who try to get too close, and Kara by holding on tightly to those she holds dear) both of their actions are motivated by the same subconscious fear that they HAVE never and WILL never TRULY belong. All while yearning for a sense of “home”.

2. They are opposite reflections of each other; true “mirror souls”, if you will.

Physically, aesthetically, economically, and emotionally—they are complete “mirrors” of one another.

Kara is strong, physically powerful, cut from marble, all hard edges and sharp lines—except for her face. Lena is clearly not as physically powerful, she is soft, all curves, and exudes the grace of the Devine feminine energy—except for her face, which is hard edges and sharp jaw lines. You see what I’m saying?

Aesthetically and economically go hand in hand of course. Lena’s exorbitant wealth is evident in her high-end designer appearance; whereas Kara’s aesthetic is more humble and grounded, and prioritizes comfort over “fashion”. (Let’s admit it. Some of Kara’s fashion choices have been questionable. She clearly rocks the chinos and button-downs better than anything else in that eclectic closet of hers she refuses to come out of 😏)

Emotionally...oh honey. Do I need to say more? I won’t say much but I will say this: Kara is the sun and Lena is the moon. They compliment each other in a way that ensures the world keeps turning.

3. Their individual strengths are the other’s individual weakness and vice versa.

Goes along with the aforementioned “opposite reflection” point above but I’ll expand a bit further in regards to their specific personality traits.

Lena is predominately analytically driven, whereas Kara is emotionally driven. Lena is good in crowds, Kara is not (overwhelmed). Lena is introverted, Kara is extroverted. Lena is detail oriented and has the memory of an elephant, Kara is clumsy and as forgetful as a Pisces (but hey, she has a lot on her plate and barely any free time to balance it). Lena eats like a rabbit-bird-hybrid and Kara eats like a garbage disposal. Kara loves giving and receiving hugs and other forms of physical affection whereas Lena does not (UNLESS it’s from Kara, of course). Etc. Etc. you get the picture.

4. Now this one is the DEAD GIVEAWAY. Undeniable, irrefutable PROOF that Lena and Kara are twin flames.

They are LITERALLY completing what is know as the Twin Flame Journey or the Twin Flame Union.

The stages of Twin Flame Union are roughly as follows:

1. Yearning for “the one”. I think every human being that believes in love experiences this whether it’s throughout their entire life, or only their adult life until they meet this person but yeah. You get it. Kara has always wanted that “Wapow!” moment.

2. Glimpsing/meeting “the one”. Whether it’s only for a short moment, an extended meeting, or perhaps merely locking eyes with them as you pass each other by...you feel immediately connected. There is an instant soul recognition when meeting them, so much so that you could have sworn you’ve met them before or that it’s as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

Remember when Kara met Lena? And she was gaga-eyed over Lena? Or when Lena felt so comfortable around a new acquaintance that she granted an almost stranger unbridled access to her office? Or how about when Red Daughter flew to America (the country she was taught to hate), with no recollection/memories of Kara’s relationship with Lena (again, the woman she was taught to hate), all because she felt PULLED to do so. And then when she did meet Lena she looked at her and practically drooled over her as if Lena was a double XL cheeseburger with extra special sauce from Big Belly Burger? Like, biiiitch 👀

3. Falling in love. Need I say more? Fine, again, I will. You CANNOT tell me that there is no way in hell that these two morons are anything BUT in love with each other. That’s a lot of double negatives and I appplogize so let me reiterate for clarification: THEY ARE IN LOVE AND YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND!

And at this point is it so freaking BEYOND platonic love, the show cannot explain it away or sweep it under the “just close friends” rug. No. Kara used her Fifth Dimensional Wish (she literally could have wished her entire planet didn’t explode) and she said “make Lena not mad at me, I’m sad 😔” 👀. Mmmkay. Not to mention Lena picking Supergirl over Jack, her former lover. Or the plethora of other times Lena chose Kara/Supergirl over everyone else she knew. Mmkay.

4. The fairytale relationship/friendship. Lena has finally found someone she can depend on, be vulnerable with, support her without judgement, trust with her life etc. and Kara has finally found a true best friend, not her sister, not Kenny who she didn’t realize was her best friend till after he passed? And now he’s not dead?? But her one true best friend that she felt she didn’t need to be neither Supergirl, nor Kara Danvers, but rather Kara Zor-El around (despite Lena not knowing that little tidbit of information).

They were each other’s best friend. Each other’s person. They were happy.

5. Outer Turmoil and Inner Purging—Supergirl and Lena fight. Lena still does not know that Kara is indeed Supergirl and does not pick up on the brewing tension between herself and Kara.

Kara of course is riddled with guilt and her relationship with Lena becomes strained. This outer turmoil creates inner purging by bringing out negative traits in each other. I.E. Lena hiding kryptonite and also Kara asking James to spy on her. Shit gets messy but they still try to make it work.

6. The Runner and the Chaser/Separation Stage—Tensions mount between the two and Lena FINALLY learns about Kara’s secret. And she has a choice to make. So what does she do? She runs. Not physically but emotionally. She completely withdraws from not only Kara and their friends but also withdraws from herself.

She literally experiences cognitive dissonance and becomes someone she is not. Someone other people made her believe she was on the inside, even though Kara knows that it isn’t. And so, Kara chases her.

Lena becomes the runner and Kara becomes the chaser as they navigate this separation stage.

Continuously running and continuously chasing.

7. The Surrender and dissolution stage—they’re fucking done. They’re tired. They’re exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally after all the bullshit they put each other through as well as all the bullshit Lex and the Phantom Zone put them through.

They come to an impasse in regards to Lex and realize the only way to defeat him is to work together, as a team. (El Mayarah anyone?)

They surrender to their emotions and to each other as their egos dissolve and their souls expand after having learned invaluable life lessons. The major one being: THEY CANNOT LIVE HAPPILY WITHOUT EACH OTHER!

8. The last stage that we have yet to see but we fucking better or else I’m gonna January 6 the CW studio building—“Oneness”.

This time, I’m not gonna say more.

So, in conclusion: Supercorp is Endgame because Lena Luthor and Kara Zor-El Danvers are the literal definition of a twin flame, soulmate connection. They are the same soul, manifested in two physical forms, for the sole purpose of expanding their soul’s consciousness.

They deserve to be happy, they deserve to be together. Not only does their union parallel some of the greatest love stories throughout history, i.e. Romeo and Juliet, Darcy and Bennet, Superman and Lois (duh) it would also break the curse of generational karma and illustrate to anybody who watches the show that the only person who defines who you are is YOU. Not a name, not a legacy, not society’s expectations, YOU. And most importantly of ALL...it would showcase that love truly does conquer all.

I rest my case.

TPTB, make Supercorp Endgame or kick rocks ✌️😘

Sincerely,

An empassioned fan with way too much time on her hands.

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #welcome back kara #soulmate #twin flames #the cw

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bimswritings · 3 years

Text

Savage Opress x Reader

Request: Open

Warnings:Yandere Themes, canon-typical violence

Summary: On their conquest of the universe, Savage finds himself drawn to one of the newest captives in their spread of power.

A/n: The next chapter of ‘This is our way’ is up on my Ao3. It will be posted here after I finish and upload my current Armorer x reader fic.

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Your planet wasn’t anything special. Located out in the outer rim, it was little more than a moon compared to its neighbors. Its land was barren and cold, an almost ever present frost covering the ground.

Yet you and your people had made it your home, learning how to grow a small amount of crops and mine the rare metals underneath. A job you had yourself, providing enough money for you and your younger brother to live on until he was old enough to work as well. What was produced was enough to give your people an economy, yet remain under the radar and out of the war that ravaged the rest of the planet. The Republic and Separatist had limited interactions this far out at best, and you were able to enjoy a peaceful life, if not a bit exhausting.

Unfortunately, it was this isolation that had been your saving grace for so long that also proved your downfall.

Their ships arrived in numbers you had never seen before, landing on the grey dirt and unloading copious amounts of armored men and women. Your village didn’t even have time to put up a fight, overpower and subdued before you could even think of a weapon to protect yourself.

Soon you were corralled into the town center, separated into groups seemingly at random. Families were torn apart, mother from child and husband from wife. The entire time your brother clung to your leg, hiding as the armed guards shoved you along through the crowds. You tried to stay out of sight the best you could in an attempt to draw the least amount of attention to yourself, hoping, praying, that you could go unnoticed enough to keep him with you.

Above it all, standing out against the dull sky with their vibrant colors, were two Zabraks. Creatures you had only ever heard about in stories from the occasional trader that passed through, and had been just that, stories, until now. Their horns alone were enough to send shivers down your spine, each one protruding from the crown of theirs heads like a twisted version of a crown. Unlike a crown, you knew they weren’t for decoration. The damage they could undoubtedly do if provoked only solidified their threatening presence.

Now they stood above you all, tattoos illuminated in the light of the setting sun. The shorter red one stood in front, chin raised and chest puffed with pride as he looked over your people with another armored man, this one clearly human. He seemed to not even notice the cold, bare chest on full display for anyone to see the unique markings that marred his skin. Just beyond him stood the second Zabrak. His yellow markings stood out even more than his companions, only emphasized by his large size. None of the others even came close to his height, let alone the bulk you could tell he possessed under his armor. Even from here you could tell he could wrap a single hand around your neck and snap it easily with his strong fingers.

His gaze was just as impassionate, if not more so, seeming more bored than anything as he watched the proceedings.

“Come on! Move it!” One of the guards yelled, catching your shoulder as he pushed you forward, reminding you bitterly of Telik being led to slaughter. You kept Jay close, keeping your head down as you passed more guards, pace increasing. Just a few more yards and you would be with the others. Whatever the future had in store for you, at least you would still have each other.

“Hey, you!” A voice called, clearly directed your way, though you pretended not to hear. A cold sweat broke out across your skin as footsteps closed in, hand reaching out and stopping you in your tracks.

“Children don’t go in this area.” He growled, prying Jay from where he hid, ignoring his cries and your screams as he was pulled away. A guard stepped forward to hold you back, another coming to his aide as you fought to get to your brother, who was making it just as difficult for his own captor to drag him away. Even with the muscle gained from the mines you struggled against them, putting up your own desperate fight.

“Stop moving you little- fuck!” He yelped, pulling his arm away and out of Jay’s mouth, which had latched on to the only unarmored part of the hand holding him.

Immediately he turned and was running back towards you, tears streaming down his face and blue eyes wide with fear. In his panic to get back, his childish coordination caught up to him and his feet caught on one another, throwing him to the ground as he was left to scramble. All the while the guard he had bitten approached.

“You little brat!” He snarled. His hand moved to his hip, producing a whip from its depths. The long weapon crackled to life, sparking with energy as it extended to full length.

Your own stomach dropped in fear as you watched.

Jay, the one light in your life, the only person you had left, was in danger. You were his older sister. You were supposed to protect him, guide him into adulthood in place of your parents. Be there to kiss away every injury, wipe away the tears after every nightmare.

A new burst of energy flooded your system, giving you the strength needed to push past the guards, leaving them stumbling as you flew towards Jay.

The man brought his arm down, whip swinging in a wide arc aimed at the defenseless boy on the ground.

It didn’t even have the chance to hit him. You slid the last few feet on the rough terrain, body covering his at the last second and jolting as the electric weapon met your clothed back, ripping through the material like a stone through water. A pained scream tore itself from your lips. Not even when you had gotten a burn from a small explosion in the mines had it hurt this much. In fact, you would take a dozen burns before this. This was just pure agony, the pain not even limited to a single area as the electricity coursed through every part of your body, invading every nerve.

The man was far from done though, and he repeated the action again and again, turning your skin into a bloody mess as Jay continued to cry underneath you, struggling in your protective grip. Still you held tightly, biting your lip to muffle your cries with every lash.

No one lifts a finger to help, not even looking in your direction in fear of the same treatment as they continue to shuffle along. You don’t even have it in your heart to blame them, knowing your reaction would be much the same if the situation was reversed.

Unbeknownst to you, your little altercation has caught the eye of the golden Zabrak, a small twinge in his heart at the deja-vu feeling he gets from the scene. From your age, he can only assume that the boy is your brother. You look too young for him to be your son.

He has flashbacks to his own brother, giving himself to the cursed Nightsisters in exchange for his life, only to be forced to kill him in a cruel show of power.

Before he realizes it, his hand has fallen to his lightsaber, already taking a step to where you are. He only gets a step before Maul calls to him, pulling him away to the ships and leaving him to look back over his shoulder at you crumpled form.

“Come. We must set up camp. The prisoners will be dealt with later.” Maul chuckles. “Those that survive anyways.”

And so he follows, leaving your fate to the Mandalorian who has yet to relent in his cruelty. But out of sight doesn’t mean out of mind, and the memory of your form curled on the ground, taking every lash with little more than a jolt and muffled cry, sticks in the front of his mind and prevents him from having a single moment of rest.

It's hours before he’s able to slip away. Between his brother and Death Watch, it’s nearly impossible for him to make his way to where the captives are being held. They’re all gathered in one of the far corners of the camp, held in place by the ropes around the wrist and looking miserable as they huddle for warmth against the lightly falling snow. He feels no guilt for what their eventual fate will be. They’re nothing to him, mere insects in his brothers plans. Animals to the slaughter. All for the greater good.

The fear he can feel radiating off them feeds a twisted sense of pride within him. The Sith side of him. They know who he is. They know he could easily kill them with no consequence should he choose.

He’s not here for them though.

A dozen yards away, your body is still laying in the same spot as before, more lifeless than when he last saw you. This time there’s no Mandalorian enforcer above you. Instead, he’s replaced with the small boy from earlier. What remains of your shirt is peeled back from the skin and even Savage, who’s used to many grisly sights, grimaces at your wound. The skin that isn’t lacerated is red and swollen, and he now notices that the young boy has shed his own shirt, using ripped strips to clean the blood away and form a crude version of bandages. He’s busy fumbling over himself, fingers clumsy and stiff from the cold as he does his best to care for the wound with no medical supplies.

So focused on your wounds, he doesn’t even hear the large Zabrak approaching, not until it’s far too late. To his credit, and Savage’s amusement, the boy refuses to leave you, placing his body in front of yours. His bare chest is rapidly moving up and down with fear, thin body on full display. Not an ounce of muscle on him, Savage muses, moving closer to your body. If he doesn’t get you proper medical attention soon the wounds will undoubtedly become infected and kill you, if the blood loss hasn’t already damned your fate.

When he goes to pick up your limp body however, he’s stopped by your brother. Well, stopped is being rather generous. It’s more like he’s latched himself onto Savage’s waist, small fist beating at him with the strength one would expect of a child. He might not have even known he was hitting him if he wasn’t watching it happen.

It’s times like this that he’s most grateful for his cursed strength, easily detaching the boy from him and holding him by the back of his neck, tucking him under one arm as the other reaches for you. It's almost concerning how cold your body is against his own skin, and he’s more careful as he lifts you over his shoulder. His brother would surely find it laughable if he saw how gentle he was being with you.

Without hesitance, he turns back to the main camp, ignoring the looks the others cast his way as he carries your unconscious and broken body over his shoulder, your brother still fighting under his other.

Let them gossip. There’s none that will stand against him.

____________________________________

The first thing you’re aware of is warmth. Surrounding and enveloping your form, begging you to stay as it threatens to drag you back into the land of dreams. That in itself is enough to alarm you. The heating was always turned off at night to save energy, replaced in favor of thick blankets made from the local TekTek wool.

That’s your second red flag. TekTek wool is warm, yet coarse and scratchy. The fabric currently piled on top of and under you is significantly softer, having a slight musk to it.

Finally managing to drag your eyes open, the sight that greets you is not one you were expecting.

Dark fabric makes up the majority of the tent you find yourself in. It’s clearly worn, yet does a surprising job of keeping the wind outside from entering, slight ripples waving across the fabric yet never entering. A fire sits in the very center, smoke curling up and through a hole in the ceiling. It’s glow provides the only source of light in the space, illuminating the few objects scattered around, including the cot you currently find yourself residing on. Buried under layers of blankets, your hands travel to the bandages wrapped around your chest, the only thing covering your upper body and providing little warmth in comparison to the blankets you were previously under.

How did you get here? Where was Jay? The last thing you remember was the invaders arriving, then nothing. So the question was, how had you gotten from there to here? Alone in an unfamiliar tent.

Your questions are soon answered, a shuffling from the front of the tent drawing your attention. From between the flaps emerges a large figure, his horns nearly catching the fabric as he enters.

You both freeze, eyes locking on one another, equally surprised. There’s a moment of pause, each of you trying to determine your next move. It’s only broken when he takes a step forward, cautiously, but still sending you into a panic. Ignoring the nearly debilitating pain coming from your back, you scramble to the edge of the cot, pressing your back against the fabric and you can feel it straining against your weight. Trying your best to look intimidating, you send a glare his way.

“Where’s my brother?”

He says nothing for a moment, and you almost repeat yourself, cut off as he begins approaching. He’s there before you know it, long legs easily eating the space as his arms reach for you, forcably turning you around despite your resistance. He lets out a grumble as he inspects your back, scoffing about how you’ve ‘reopened them’.

The next thing you know, his hands are worming their way under the wrappings, loosening them as he goes to remove them.

The panic you had felt before was nothing compared to now, knowing where this scenario was going all to well. The stories of what you had heard from other village girls filling your mind, darkening your thoughts as you could only imagine what this monster was about to do to you.

“No! Stop!” You sobbed, knowing full well that there was nothing you could actually do against his strength. The bandages become looser, only held up by your hand as you wildly swing out with the other. All the while you try to distance yourself from him.

“Please!”

To your surprise, he pauses. His first sign of even showing he heard you since entering. His gaze never leaves you, and you can see the debate going on within his eyes. About what, your guess was as good as any. All that you cared was that he had stopped for the moment, allowing you to cover yourself with one of the many blankets in an attempt to preserve any decency you had left.

Growling, her turns and storms out the way he came, a wisp of freezing wind invading the tent as you're given a glance at the dark night sky outside before you’re once again left on your own. Not for long though, and you think he’s returned once again when the flaps open, only to reveal a young woman in similar armor that you had seen earlier. Not the person you trusted the most right now, but you still preferred her over the large Zabrak from earlier.

She approaches slowly, setting a medkit down on the bed as she smiles your way. “I’m here to change your bandages.” She extends a hand your way, which you only look at, neglecting to come out of your little corner.

“Please. You’ve opened your wounds again. If you don’t come out now, I’ll just wait for you to pass out and change them then.” she sounds a bit exhausted, and it takes a few more minutes of coaxing before you allow her access to your back, keeping your back towards her as she slowly unwraps the bindings. She deposits them into the fire, leaving you to watch them burn to ash as she retrieves a small container from the medkit.

Inside is a blue gel, surprisingly warm as it touches your skin and leaves a pleasant numbness. You can almost feel her gaze burning into your skin as she applies the gel, eyes skittering across old scars, fingers even tracing them when visible underneath the new wounds. Seeming to sense your unease, she rushes through the rest, quickly wrapping new bindings around your torso, apologizing with every small grunt of pain you let out.

Far too quick for your liking she’s done, packing up her things as she prepares to head out. If she’s leaving, then that means there’s more of a chance that he’ll come back. In fact, you have no doubt that she’ll go and tell him once she’s out of here.

Snapping the case closed, she turns back to you and hesitates for a moment.

“I don’t know what you did to gain Savage’s attention, but believe me,” her green eyes lock onto yours, holding a sense of severity that chills you to the bone.

“, he’s your best chance of surviving.”

With that you’re alone once again, left to your own thoughts and the crackling of the fire, which has gone down a significant amount since you first woke.

What did she mean by that? Gained his attention? And he was one of the ones who lead the attack on your home. Why would he be your saving grace? If anything, he would be the most likely to kill you.

Once again the flap opens, and you almost want to groan about the number of people going in and out, letting the heat out of the tent.

It’s the Zabarak. Savage, you remember the woman from before calling him. This time he has some additions. A cloak draped over one arm and a plate in hand. He moves slower than before, almost cautiously approaching you as he sets the items on the far end of the bed.

“Eat.” His voice is a deep baritone, rich yet monotone as he speaks, nodding towards the plate before moving towards the fire. Your eyes never leave his form as he tosses more wood onto the flame, moving them about without a fear of burning himself. Despite the fear still gripping your nerves, the food is tempting and only now do you realize how empty your stomach is, almost turning in on itself as it lets out a low rumble.

You grab the plate cautiously, picking at its contents as the man continues to poke at the fire. When you do finish, you find yourself wishing you had taken more time with it, no longer having the small distraction from your current situation. Despite the desire to throw on the warm looking cloak, you don’t. While he had directed you to eat, he had said nothing about the cloak. The last thing you wanted to do was make him angry, especially after he had shown how easily he could manhandle you earlier.

“You’re going to travel with me from now on.” He spoke, his back still towards you, yet it still carried loudly through the air, leaving no room for you to mistake his words. “If you have any objections, your fate will be the same as the rest of your village.”

You have no idea why he’s saying this, not when he could just direct you without any information. There’s only one thing on your mind though, present from the very beginning and still burning on your tongue.

“Where’s my brother.” You ask once again, praying to the maker you’ll get an answer this time. “What about him?”

His shoulders tense for a moment. The first emotion he’s shown besides anger.

“He will be allowed to come along given that he trains as a Mandalorian warrior. This is the best option for him.”

You let out a sigh of relief. While being forced to train with the ones who captured him wasn’t an ideal situation, you could only be thankful that he wasn’t fated for something more unfortunate. The only thing that worried you was his size. He was never much of a fighter, too kind to want to cause others pain. You would need to be there for him.

“I...I can still see him.”

“Yes.”

You bit your lip, trying to decide if you should ask another question. He already seemed to be wearing thin with his patience, but you had to know. You would never get a moment's rest until you knew.

“Why am I here.”

He doesn’t answer right away, throwing a few more logs onto the fire before turning to face you. His face was nothing but shadows, eyes standing out in startling contrast. His footsteps were slow and heavy as he made his way over to your form, unable to back away any further as you already find yourself in a corner. He grabs the cloak as he passes, the article almost ridiculously small in his hands.

As soon as he’s close enough, he lifts his arms and you flinch, expecting him to strike you out of annoyance and anger. It never comes though. The only feeling was that of heavy fabric settling on your shoulders, only there a moment before it’s clasped and you feel yourself being pulled forward.

Savage’s hands are wound tightly into the fabric, forcing your face to nearly touch his. This close you can see every detail of the markings splashed across his skin, the black only making his amber eyes burn even brighter, nearly suffocating with the intensity with which they stare. Almost like molten gold themselves.

His breath fans across your skin, lips nearly brushing yours as his forehead grazes your own, making you whimper as his horns roughly scrap the skin.

“You’re mine now. You will never leave my side, there at my every beck and call no matter what I may need. If you even think about trying to leave or betray me,” he pushed further, forcing you to lean back onto the bed. His weight pushed down enough to keep you in place without being crushing, one hand releasing the fabric of the collar to travel up your face. It brushes the hair away, catching the tear you hadn’t even realized had escaped.

“I’ll force you to watch as I kill your brother in the most painful way imaginable.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans forward, baritone voice speaking lowly in your ear as his lips tickle the skin.

“You’ll wish, beg, that I had killed you as well instead of what will happen to you after.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #savage opress x reader #savage opress #x reader #tcw #fanfiction #darth maul #tcw x reader #star wars the clone wars

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alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom · 3 years

Text

GREY HEAVENS (F/F)

@deans-ch-ch-cherrypie ie was one of the first I met here and I’m so proud of her. This beautiful and always jealous (oh lord, she is super jealous) person reached 500 followers and of course I (tried) had to write a fic. I know Cherrypie, I said this is a Hvitserk x Ariel fic, but I love Ivar too much, I just can’t ignore him, oops sorry. Te amo odiosa!

Pairing: Hvitserk x Ariel x Ivar

Warnings: F/F smut, fingering, oral, voyeurism

Words: 1726

Thank you to my amazing beta reader @quantumlocked310 for making my sentences sound good, helping me with the moodboard and always motivating me! The idea for the name of this fic is btw from my honey @jadelynlace, because I have no patience to think about an appropriate name and her titles are outstanding.

a/n:. This fandom needs more F/F so I took my chance to write one. This is also a call to those who write F/F Vikings fics -> tag me!

Forget everything you know about Ariel, because the only thing my Ariel and the Disney Ariel have in common is the red hair.

Summary: A Mermaid is the last chance Hvitserk has to revive Lagertha.

Tags: @xbellaxcarolinax @pomegranates-and-blood @heavenly1927 @walkxthexmoon @punkrocknpearls @mrsalwayswrite @grimeundglow

If you ever find her then speak cautiously, she is mightier than the sea and gentler than the breeze.

The seer warned Hvitserk; mermaids don't like humans. Also, Aslaug taught him not to talk about mermaids since he was a child. The fear that these beings might hear was too big. They pull men into the bottom of the sea and let their ships sink. Their voices intoxicate the mind and manipulate humans. Their beauty dazzles men and makes it easy to underestimate them. They can hide but are still visible for those who are meant to see them.

He rode days and weeks to the far north of Norway, where the sea is wild and high waves crash against the huge rocks, far away from all the villages. Where there are almost no animals to eat and fish are difficult to catch. He could easily die, but it was the last chance Hvitserk had to revive Lagertha.

~~·······~~

Evening dawned and he gathered wood to prepare the fireplace for the night. A few faint fire sparks flew away in the slight wind when he ground two stones together to start the fire.

"With so little wood you won't survive more than two hours" Someone complained behind him.

Hvitserk hastily picked up his axe and turned around to see who that was. Almost nobody knew why he left Kattegat. Every day he thought about how he killed the most famous shield maiden. The wisest witches and healers tried to bring her back. Daily sacrifices and even Hvitserk himself gave his blood in the attempt to revive her, but none of this was successful.

“Ivar?” He dropped the axe. “What are you doing here? Tell me, who sent you, huh?” He grinned.

“Brother, I am Ivar the Boneless, if this half fish is really more powerful than me then I have to see her.” Ivar didn't want to rely on the rumors.

“I don’t want to be a mermaid’s meal, so be kind Ivar.”

“I doubt we will find her, them, it, whatever” Ivar was quite unimpressed by Hvitserk’s enthusiasm. He was just looking forward to the little trip through Norway’s landscapes.

~~·······~~

They walked an extensive white sand beach in search of mussels whenthey heard stones rolling and humming high voices coming out of a big cave.

The sun shone through a big hole in the cave’s ceiling and illuminated two women laying on one another. They quietly tried to climb over the slippery stones in the entrance of the cavern to get closer.

The pureness of their naked bodies, never touched by a man, sliding against each other. Their bright silver-colored skins, glistening in the sunlight like sea pearls. Their wavy hair hid part of their faces. Rose lips sucking on the skin of the red-haired's neck while their thighs pressed around the other’s, spreading their juices over their intertwined legs. Two bodies soft as silk melting together, grinding their pussies and bringing each other to a shared pleasure.

It was silent, only their heavy breathing echoed in the big cave, making the squelching noises of their wetness hush. Their bodies harmonized and embraced; they took their time to satisfy each other without showing dominance.

She shivered at the feeling of the blue-haired’s teeth raking along the flesh of her throat. She was enticed by the way her tongue swirls and swipes the mounds of her chest, tasting the salty valley between her plump breasts. Addicted to the sight of her hips thrusting against her own, feeling the heat that wracked their entire bodies.

One hand roamed down the shape of her body and groped her ass. The blue-haired lifted her partner’s right leg and placed it over her shoulder, exposing her fully. She licked two fingers on her right hand and trailed them down over the red-haired thigh until she reached her cunt.

The red-haired pressed her beloved closer, having only a moment to breathe out before she delved her wet fingers inside her lover’s dripping walls. She stroked deeper, harder and faster; all the while nibbling the soft skin behind her earlobe. She pulled her fingers out and teased her entrance. Her tongue swirled over her lip, before she thrusted her fingers in one move again into her partner’s throbbing pussy adding one finger to stretch her more.

The red-haired pried her legs open andburied both hands in the other’s blue hair to trail her down, arching her back to catch each kiss she left. She brought her lover’s head between her legs and laid her mouth on her center, replacing her fingers. Her arms wrapped around the red-haired's thighs as her tongue dragged against her warmth, parting her folds to rub against her most sensitive spots. She moaned, savoring the taste of the one beneath her pulsating pussy, not missing a drop of her juices.

When her thumb brushes the smooth skin of her hard nipple, kneading it, the red-haired rewarded it with a melodic moan, a little louder this time. The strands of her red hair fell down from her face as she raised her head, revealing her gorgeous face. Her eyes shut tight and her lips trembled, before they spread in a euphoric moan with every slam of her thighs onto the blue-haired cheeks. She bucked her hips nearly throwing the blue-haired off her lap. Her hands looking for something to grip onto, settling them on blue locks. Seeing the lust-filled gaze of her beautiful girl tensed her body. Her end was near, the one above her flicked her tongue at a fast pace, curling it over clit once, twice until her body exploded in satisfaction, coating her mouth with her juices.

The shameless string of moans woke Hvitserk up from his trance.

“Do you think they are mermaids? Real mermaids?”

Ivar didn’t answer. Hvitserk hit him with his elbow, but h was totally obsessed from their magnet-like aura.

“Hey Ivar” He tried to get his attention again.

“What?!” Ivar finally could avert his gaze from them.

“I asked, if you think that these are mermaids?”

“Of course they are! Did you ever see a woman being so divine?!” It was obvious to him.

They heard a loud noise of something heavy dropping into the water but when they looked back to the place they were laying, both were gone.

“You idiot! See what you did, you should learn to speak more-”

“Mermaid! I can see you!” The mermaid’s colored hair reflected in the water. “Come out here! We don’t want to kill you!” Ivar ignored his brother and crawled over the slippery stones in their direction.

The red-haired rose confident out of the water presenting herself. Waterdrops covered her pale and shimmering skin. She titled her head to one side, focusing the two foreign men with her green eyes, without blinking.

“Vikings” She broke the intriguing silence. The way this word rolled of her tongue was tantalizing.

“We didn’t want to...uhm… “ Hvitserk stuttered ashamed about Ivar’s insolence. “We are looking for someone, a special woman, well she is more than a woman. Her name– “

“Ariel. I knew you would come. You’re here because of Lagertha’s death.” She completed his sentence.

The blue-haired came out from behind the rock and placed herself close to Ariel. Two goddess-like appearances, both the same; tall, hypnotizing them.

“Ariel. Hello Ariel” Ivar smirked, speaking in a seductive tone, scanning her naked body with his glance. “I assume you are the powerful creature Hvitserk needs.” He took a lazy step closer. ”Powerful and beautiful. I have a weakness for woman like you.” He confessed, brushing his lower lip between his teeth.

She approached and her cheek pressing lightly against his. Her damp red hair wet his armor as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“I know who you are Ivar. So let me tell you whoIam.” He closed his eyes to memorize her unique salty smell better. “I am not a woman, I am a mermaid and mermaids don’t need to deal with men. And...don’t you dare to touch me!” Ivar clenched his fist and lowered his hand again.

She leaned back and spoke to the more rational brother. “I can’t help you Hvitserk. I’m sorry you came here in vain.” She wasn’t a talkative creature, especially when she felt used.

“Hey silver skin, where are you going?” Ivar started to treat her rude out of frustration. “We are not done here.” Ivar followed her out of the cave to the beach.

“But the seer told me you can, you can revive people. I didn’t want to kill her, please, it was a mistake.” Hvitserk tried to persuade her from the distance.

“This is my home.” She admired the calm of the ocean. “I can save anyone who gets lost in the heart of the sea, but Lagertha is not there.”

“Hey!” She gasped as Ivar grabbed her arm to hold her back. She immediately closed her eyes and was benumbed.

“No” The blue haired yelled and hissed, pushing Ivar away. He let go of her and Ariel started breathing again. Her eyes opened and even if they hadn’t told her how Lagertha died, she already knew it. She felt what they felt and saw what they saw. There was no secret that remained hidden from her.

“It wasn’t you who killed her, you were deceived Hvitserk. I am unable to overpower a dark might.” Hvitserk bowed his head. “But she’s fine. She is with Ragnar and she forgives you…and you too, Ivar.” Ivar rolled his eyes.

Ariel took her beloved by the hand and both stepped into the little waves. The silver colour of their legs became more luminous and greener the longer they stood in the water.

“Let’s go back to our sisters, my dear. I can hear them calling.” Her long red hair framed the curves from her swaying hips.

“And Ivar- “ She looked over her shoulder “- as long as your heart craves revenge, you will never be able to love.”

The sunlight reflected on her emerald green scales before she disappeared with her dearest in the depth of the sea completely.

Ivar waited a moment longer hoping to see her one last time.

“Ivar, it’s over.” Hvitserk laid his arm on Ivar’s shoulder and pulled him away.

#ivar the boneless #vikings hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #f/f smut #vikings fandom #vikings fanfiction #ivar ragnarsson #cherry pie's 500

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mithrilwren · 3 years

Text

I really, really wanted to contribute something to Essek Week, but unfortunately with two essays and a novel chapter due by Monday, I didn’t have the time or mental energy to write anything new. Cue me remembering that I’d actually started working on an Essek-centric shadowgast Pirate!AU last summer, that never saw the light of day! Though I did a whole bunch of research for it, summer ended before I could get farther than the first couple chapters. Still, I’m very fond of the premise, and I’d like to finish it one day. I can’t guarantee I will (life’s too busy to commit myself to another Big Fic Project atm) but in the meantime, here’s a little taste in the form of the first chapter.

-------------------

For @essek-week Day 7: AU

Courts of Silk (Chapter 1)

Essek startled from his trance to the crackle of blistering thunder overhead.

Mind bled of all drowsiness in an instant, he unfolded his legs and slid off the berth, drifting to the center of the room and tilting his ear towards the boards above.

A storm… but the skies were meant to be clear for days, and he trusted Avus to know it. Could the weather have turned so–

Boom.

Essek’s eyebrows flew up as the deck visibly lurched below his feet.

Not thunder.

Cannon fire.

More sounds now, hurried ones – an erratic tempo of feet pounding through the corridor outside his little room, the floorboards creaking dully under the weight of the crew scrambling over the deck above. He flinched as a louder noise pierced through the commotion: the rattling of a heavy fist falling against the door of his cabin, hard enough to shake the wooden frame.

“We’ve been boarded!” Zel’ra’s guttural shout startled him out of his confused stupor, and he flew to the door and flung it open. The quartermaster stood outside, her snarling jaw dripping with whitish battle foam, the kind that bugbears of Rosohna so seldom have occasion to sport within city walls. “Come on, magic boy, time for you to earn your– Shit!”

Then she was gone, and Essek was left staring dumbly at the empty corridor, as Zel’ra raced back the way she came. A moment later, there was a yelp, and the grisly crack of metal hitting bone. Then there was no sound at all, save the rocking of the ocean’s pulse against the hull, and the thump of confident, unfamiliar footsteps, coming closer and closer to his open door.

He had only a few moments to make his decision. The fight might still be going on above deck, but if intruders had already made it below, there was little hope of a favorable outcome for the crew of the Barren Bow. He hadn’t thought the Empire would be brazen enough to attack a diplomatic ship in open waters, but there were soldiers of all ilks on the open sea, and no government to hold them to account so far from land. He would not put it past a Dwendalian crew to sight a Dynasty flag on the horizon and decide to take the matter of revenge in their own hands. If so, there was no telling what treatment they might expect at the hands of their attackers. Rage was rarely tamed by abstract rules of engagement, and he doubted anyone would care to ask what the nature of their mission was, once the killing began.

But perhaps…

Quickly, Essek drew aside his sleeve and materialized the leather–bound contents of his wristpocket into his hands. His spellbook lay beside precious components in their embroidered fold, and there, at the bottom of the pile: the folio. He whispered a quiet word and the paper folded apart, revealing its damning – and perhaps, in the right hands, lifesaving – contents.

The letters.

If the tides were so unfavorable that he could not fight, perhaps that might be enough to–

He vanished the whole affair back into the ether as two shadows fell across the door.

From the darkness of the hallway, two figures stepped over the threshold. In front was a young woman: human, with swarthy skin made darker still by the weathering burn of long days at sea. Her hands were tucked beneath bare arms and her hip turned out to an unconcerned jaunt, adorned by a sash of deep blue. Behind her, and looming so tall that she had to hunch to fit through the frame of the door, was a giant of a woman. Taller even than Zel’ra, her bare shoulders glistening with rippling muscles and sweat, pale as moonlight – or as the steely glint of the broadsword at her back. The younger woman swept him over with piercing eyes, her confident grin not quite masking the focused gaze beneath. Though she bore no weapons, Essek could feel the stain of threat in every taut sinew of her body. He held still, waiting to see who would make the first move.

Her eyes finally paused, centered on the floor beneath his feet, and her grin dropped into something more like a startled ‘oh’. Too late, he realized his mistake – that his levitation, as natural and instinctive as standing on his own two feet, had just given him away.

“Mage!” she sputtered, and her hand was gripping his arm and twisting it behind his back before he even realized she’d moved. Essek dropped the levitation spell, hoping to get enough leverage from the sudden height difference to slip out of her grasp, but before he could so much as shuffle to the left, the taller woman was at his right, clutching his other arm with a grip strong enough to break bone.

“Shit,” the first woman spat as she stepped back, allowing the second to take both of his arms into custody. “Who the fuck did we just board?”

Essek kept silent, staring at her, searching for any sign of weakness and finding less than nothing. If he had just had his hands free for a moment longer… but that didn’t matter now. There weren’t many spells without a somatic component at his disposal, and cantrips wouldn’t save his neck, should the giantess move quicker to snap it than he could speak.

Without a means of immediate escape, he looked next for any way to identify his captors. They were human, but their loose, subdued dress – for the younger woman, a vest of blue cotton, the other, a braided grey tunic, and frayed ribbons in both their hair – was nothing like the silver and crimson finery of the Righteous Brand.

If not from the Empire, who were these people? Hired thugs? Mercenaries?

“Are there more of you skulking down here?”

He didn’t ask the woman to clarify, though he wasn’t sure exactly what she was asking. More drow? Yes, but he was not about to reveal the nature of the delegation travelling under his protection to her. More mages? No. As always, he had convinced the Bright Queen that his effort alone would be sufficient. For the first time in a very long time, he wished he’d been a little more conservative in estimating his own skills. Given the current situation, someone else’s power at his back might actually be welcome, rather than distracting.

Her burning gaze made it clear that he had to say something, and soon, but for once, the right words did not come. The truth did not matter: he knew that any unfavorable answer would be taken as a lie.

Still, Essek would not panic. The only way to regain control of the situation was by carefully gathering information, finding something that he could use to shift the balance of power at a more advantageous moment. That was his particular specialty.

“I do not know,” he answered coolly. “For I do not know who is above and below deck at all hours of the day. I can only speak for myself.”

“Beau! Fjor– fuck– Captain Tusktooth wants you on deck!” A new voice, its timbre high and grating, like glass against cold iron, echoed from around the corner. The woman – Beau, he filed away – turned her head and shouted back out the door.

“Just a second, we’ve got one more!” Then, “Tell him to get Caleb over here, we’ve got a goddamn mage to deal with!”

The giantess at his back leaned down, so close that her dreaded locks nestled amidst the silver chains that hung from tip to base of his pointed ear. “You aren’t going to give us any trouble, are you?” she murmured, and despite every ounce of training he’d undergone for exactly this sort of intimidation, he still couldn’t help the way he shivered at her dark tone. There was a deep quality to her voice that sung of violence, for violence’s sake, and though he wasn’t yet truly afraid, he had no wish to provoke her.

“How could I?” Essek gently flexed his arms in her grasp: not enough to challenge, but enough to reassure her of his helplessness.

Her lips curled back, and… yes. There was a little fear gathering there, in the back of his throat. A good kind of fear – the prudent kind. It would keep him alert, and focused, and ready to strike back when the moment was right.

When she started pushing him forward, he followed her lead willingly, and the two of them shadowed Beau into the corridor and up the steps that led back above deck. Essek winced as the bright noonday sun slipped into view, already anticipating the stinging burn that was sure to follow. He’d managed to avoid the deck for most of the voyage, much to the chagrin of the Assarian crew. He was not born into a body made for manning rigging, and certainly not under an unrepentant sky determined to scorch his face and hands and neck and leave him itching and miserable for days without relief. His better use was below deck, planning for the engagement ahead, and his hours of fresh air better taken in the evening, when the gentler light of the moons was merely a prickle beneath his skin, rather than a flame.

Everywhere he looked, he saw mismatched bodies. Though Essek hadn’t met the entire complement of the Barren Bow’s crew, he had to assume most of the scattered orcs, goblins, and bugbears belonged to their side. Most of the ones on their feet were being held in the shallow recess at the centre of the deck, where great cannons might have been lodged on a more modern ship. A handful of unremarkable humans, each equipped with a rapier – or, in one man’s case, a salt-encrusted retort – stood above them, keeping watch. Amidst all that humanity stood a wild–eyed goblin in a blaring yellow dress, hefting a crossbow composed of whirring gears and levers of an intricate make that rivaled Waccoh’s own craftsmanship. She was currently in the process of shouting threats down across the heads of his cowed compatriots. Some were clutching broken arms or wiping blood from contusions and burnt welts. Lying at the center of the group was an unconscious Zel’ra, the goose egg at the back of her skull already angry and red.

Finally, he spied the remainder of the drow contingent clustered by the ship’s rail. Diplomats, all of them, bound for a parley at sea and not trained for conflict beyond what it took to hold a dagger right-way up. He was the only one among them battle-tested, and even then, his means leaned more towards subterfuge than outright combat. Theoretically, the Assarian crew was meant to be their main line of defence in case of attack. Clearly they had not proven up to the task.

Essek would be filing a very unfavorable report with their commanders upon his return, if any of them survived the day.

“Captain!” Beau shouted, and a tall half-orc stepped away from the railing, his wide-brimmed hat only partially disguising the many scars that littered his face.

“Weather’s turning,” he said, casting his eyes towards the – as far as Essek could tell – clear horizon. Those same yellow eyes flickered up, above Essek’s head, and for a moment seemed to narrow before turning back to Beau. “You finished clearing the hold yet?”

“Didn’t make it that far.” Beau jerked her head, and Essek was thrust into the sunlight all at once. The glare was blinding, and apparently not just to him. The giantess’s hands jerked around his arms, like they wanted to fly up and shield her eyes as well. That was all the opportunity he needed.

With one quick motion, he jerked his arms from her grasp and drew his hands together, tracing familiar glyphs out of nothing but muscle memory as his mouth uttered an incantation, and the world exploded around him. The giantess was flung back against the doorframe, wood splintering beneath her weight, and both Beau and the half-orc slammed into the deck and began to hurtle towards the side of the boat. Forcing his eyes to stay focused amidst the chaos and the harsh light, Essek caught the glitter of a cutlass skittering along the boards as he took stock of his position on the newly reborn battlefield.

Nearly all of the boarders were in a concentrated area in front of him, and the rest of the Assarian crew were protected by the lip of the recess in the deck. The terrain could not be more advantageous. Essek allowed himself a small smirk as he raised his hand and prepared a vacuum blast that would level the whole of the upper deck, and deliver them all to safety in one swift stroke.

How arrogant, that this petty group of mercenaries thought they could capture–

“Counterspell.”

The magic sizzled and died in his hand, and Essek whirled, searching for whoever had spoken behind him. Thugs he could handle, but it was always best to deal with a mage first, when they could do such infuriating things as what had just occurred. But once he turned, he found himself facing an empty doorway, and an empty deck above that. No trace of whoever had cast the counterspell.

The giantess was gone as well.

He heard the click before he could parse what cold and heavy thing was tugging on his wrist, but he was horribly aware of what was happening by the time his other wrist was wrenched behind his back and small hands clasped the second iron band shut. A stomach-churning wave of exhaustion passed through him from scalp to toe, and he staggered, only barely holding on to consciousness. Head lolling towards the floor, he saw two soft-soled boots landing lightly on the deck in front of him.

With great effort, he managed to drag his head up from his chest, and found himself staring into blue eyes and dusty freckles, lips pressed into a thin line, all framed by tangles of copper-red hair.

“Good work, Nott,” the man said. His accent was one Essek had only heard once before, though through the mire of exhaustion he could not remember where.

Behind Essek, the half-orc groaned and pushed himself up off the deck. “Next time you have a brilliant plan for subduing the prisoner, maybe let’s try not putting us all in the line of fire, hm?”

The man ignored the sarcasm, still looking all too carefully at Essek.

“Are you finished?” he murmured, and though his body was lithe, his soft voice sung of as much violence as the giantess’s darker growl.

With a sigh, Essek let his shoulders drop. He could still feel the pulses of magic coursing through the iron bands around his wrists. Even if he got his arms free again, the cuffs would not be easily slipped, or broken. These people, whoever they were, came equipped to handle wizards like himself. Was that what they were, then? Assassins in disguise? Privateers? The blunt instrument of some government or another?

Not that it made much difference now. Whoever they were, he was at their mercy.

“Spin him around.”

Essek felt himself being maneuvered away from the man’s incisive gaze. Through bleary eyes he caught the looks of frustrated disbelief from the four drow delegates, lamenting their crushed hope in silent, huddled unity. He was meant to be their protection. Now that Essek was taken, what else could save them? Not one of them was brave enough to attempt it themselves. A shiver of disgust ran through Essek, as heady as the self-recrimination it concealed at having allowed himself to be captured so easily.

The half-orc strode up to Essek, the sword in his hand now replaced, though Essek hadn’t seen the man move to retrieve it. It was a silver cutlass, fine enough to cleave a person clean through and leave one half still propped up on the other. Too rich a prize by far for a simple mercenary – he must have come by it dishonestly, or been given it as boon or bribe. Neither prospect boded well.

The hand that gripped the sword told an equally foreboding story, for only the thumb was composed of green flesh. The rest of the fingers were severed at the third knuckle, and replaced by metal imitations fixed to the wrist by a harness of leather cords. Still, he held the hilt with all the confidence of a trained fighter, and the surety of his grasp left Essek little doubt as to its effectiveness, mechanical augmentation or no.

“My name,” said the half-orc, “is Captain Tusktooth.” A hint of bright teeth flashed from below the wide brim of the hat. “And this ship is mine now. Its cargo, mine too.”

The answer about the identity of his captors, at last, became clear, for what little good it did him.

Pirates.

“By whose authority?” Essek shot a harsh look at the foolish dignitary who had chosen this moment to find their courage, but Tusktooth only grinned harder.

“By my own.” Behind Essek’s back, Nott and Beau slipped back through the splintered doorframe and down into the depths of the ship once more. “Now, my crew is going to finish taking a look through your cargo. I trust that your captain has been honest about the contents of your hold. Are there any other surprises I should be warning my people of? Anybody else looking to make trouble?”

Would that there were. “You will find little of value to take. We travelled light.” He spoke the truth, having no more useful lie at his disposal. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and another wave of exhaustion teased at the edges of his mind. He fought it with all the strength he had – which was growing less and less by the minute.

“So your captain told me. But that wasn’t my question.” Tusktooth’s voice grew as keen as the blade in his hand as he lifted it and placed the edge to the shallow of Essek’s throat. “Are there others like you aboard?”

He did not flinch. Torment and torture were old friends: his own cherished instruments. He did not fear what this man would do to him, any more than he feared death itself. At least, that is what he told his errant heart, as sweat began to bead at the nape of his neck.

“No.”

Tusktooth stared him down for a minute longer, and Essek held his gaze as best he could with the sun still searing his eyes. But at last, the sword withdrew, and Essek’s breath came a little easier. “Then let’s call this an exercise in… mutual trust.” He smiled once more, and Essek returned the expression with a vague twitch of lips.

The tense exchange was followed by ten excruciating minutes of silence, during which Essek did his best not to fidget in his heavy robes, even when his exposed skin grew so heated he felt liable to burst into flames. As they waited, the redheaded man pulled Tusktooth aside for a private conversation, and Essek sweated, and watched, and tried to formulate a plan.

The pirates would find nothing of value to steal. The Barren Bow had provisions for the voyage, but anything else aboard was the purview of the Assarian crew, who had planned to head back towards the shores of Igrathad as soon as the parley concluded. There were no scheduled stops for trade, and thus, no trade goods in their hold. There weren’t even guns to offer. Essek would never dare to admit it aloud, but the Dynasty lagged sorely behind the rest of Wildemount in outfitting its fleet with the relatively new technology of cannonry, at least of the type that lacked a magical component. Firearms had only entered the sphere of weaponmaking some thirty years prior, and with Xhorhas primarily landlocked, the navy hadn’t been high on the priority list for refurbishment.

His best hope was that some of the crew had hidden stashes of coin in their quarters. Otherwise, there would be nothing for the pirates to take, and without anything to satisfy them, well… he did not want to be in manacles when that news was delivered to a man who’d already put a sword to his throat.

If only to convince himself he was not totally beaten yet, Essek watched Tusktooth and the redhead carefully, seeing what he could glean from body language alone. Their conversation was hushed but tense, and every few moments the redhead would turn his eyes towards the drow delegation, and then to Essek himself. He made sure to drop his own eyes before they could meet again, not wanting to spark another confrontation by appearing insolent. As for the pirate captain… there was confidence, yes, but the unwavering edge of confidence seemed to drop away from his shoulders as he spoke to the other man. His arms moved more wildly; his words were more rapid, and at a higher pitch. Perhaps his earlier confidence was not so unshakeable as it at first appeared.

At last, Beau and the goblin re-emerged from the staircase. “We got shit all,” Beau said, tossing down a half-empty sack by Essek’s feet. He winced as a few bruised tubers rolled out across the warped deck.

“...Shit.” Tusktooth ran a hand over his mouth. “Shit. Nothing?”

“Nott and I checked every inch of that hold, the crew quarters, everything. No money, no timber, no – fuck, I don’t know – fine silks or–”

“No cannons,” Nott added mournfully. “No black powder.”

“We went through all this for nothing?”

“Maybe someone’s holding out on us,” Nott said, brandishing her crossbow. “I could make ‘em talk for you, Captain. Make them squeal–”

“Oh–kay, Nott,” Tusktooth said, “let’s take it down a notch.” But despite his placating tone, his look was thoughtful. Again, he turned to Essek. “You never never did say what you all were doing out here, so far from home. You don’t look like a sailor to me.”

“Yes, friend,” said the redhead, stepping up to Essek from Tusktooth’s other side, alarmingly calm, and placing altogether too much emphasis on the second word to be trusted, “what is it you do here?” Essek took a half-step back, not liking the feeling of being pressed in from all angles, and walked himself straight into the chest of the giantess.

Nowhere to hide. And with his hands bound behind his back, no way to levitate up to a level where he didn’t feel every inch of height his captors had over him. Which, at his firmly average height for a drow, was many.

Focus, Thelyss. Focus.

“Why should I answer your questions,” he sneered, “when you have not done me the same courtesy? Who are you, to board a vessel commissioned lawfully by the Bright Queen herself?” It was a dangerous ploy, but a considered one – a hastily calculated risk. If the pirates could not be convinced there was nothing of value to be found, they might decide to punish the crew for concealing their rightful prize, and when even a beating couldn’t drive his compatriots to forfeit non-existent gold, the pirates might well scuttle the ship and leave them all to drown at sea. He doubted simple brigands would care much for the particulars of a diplomatic mission if there was no treasure involved, so there was little harm in broaching a subject that might be far more dangerous to discuss with more educated captors.

But apparently, some aspect of Essek’s logic had failed him again, because the redhead immediately shot a wide-eyed look at Tusktooth, before looking back to Essek. “The Bright Queen?”

Essek gave a little bow. His head swam as he dipped back up – the handcuffs, no doubt, though it could just as easily be the beginnings of heatstroke – and he had to swallow twice to find the fortitude to speak without slurring. “Essek Thelyss, Shadowhand of the Kryn Dynasty and ambassador of the realm.” The last part was an… embellishment, and if he chanced a glance over at the true ambassadors, he imagined there would be many offended looks. But thankfully, all attention was solely focused on him. “I assure you, you won’t find the prize you’re looking for on a diplomatic vessel, gentleman. Your friends have already given you proof – we carry nothing beyond our own provision. Unless you have a particular taste for the delicacies of Xhorhasian fashion, I’m afraid we have little to offer you.”

Nott snarled, but the redhead put up a hand. “Captain,” he said slowly, looking at Tusktooth. “Might I… make a suggestion?”

“You may.”

“It’s not something I’d usually propose, but times being what they are…” Tusktooth nodded grimly.

“We haven’t got many options left.”

“Precisely. I believe that our friend Mr. Thelyss here has lied to us.” He could laugh for the irony of it all; this was the most truthful Essek had been in years. “There is indeed something very valuable aboard this ship.” His blue eyes pierced through Essek, and it was only his determination to keep the – now violently pitching – contents of his stomach where they belonged, that stopped him from speaking up in his own defense.

“And that is...?”

“Himself.”

#critical role #essek thelyss #shadowgast #essek week #my writing #also since plank king essek is a... thing??? now #the timing seems appropriate lol #this fic is not that but it is still (eventual) pirate!Essek #and who doesn't love that

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holykillercake · 3 years

Text

One Year

pairing: Zoro x Reader

word count: 2k

summary: No summary this time. I´ll just say this ¨Bartholomew Kuma and Sabaody¨. Read at your own risk. Seriously, ¨KUMA AND SABAODY¨, do you understand?

highlight: ¨Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better.¨

warnings: angst with happy ending; Sabaody Archipelago spoilers (?)

notes: Hey guys! This was a request from @roronoatrash in which ¨Zoro who has 0 sense of direction seemed to always find his way back to is s/o, and his s/o only.¨. I really hope you like it!💚 This is also the first time I write a Devil Fruit user, so I'm considering a sequel to develop the character and add more humor.

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

It was a cloudy and melancholic day in the New World. The men on board were leisurely enjoying their afternoon; some drinking, some napping, some eating. The air was humid and cold, and the tides were strangely calm. No one seemed to care. After all, that was the New World.

¨Boss!¨ the lookout shouted from the crow's nest ¨Something is falling from the sky! It´s going to land on deck!¨

All men tilted their heads to look at the sky, watching a tiny black spot become bigger and more recognizable.

¨Is that what I think it is?¨ the captain asked himself, not believing his eyes.

¨Boss, is that a girl?¨

¨Yep, I think so.¨

They stood still watching what they suspected was a girl fall from the skies. The red-haired took a quick glimpse at his first-mate and officers, and since no one moved, he felt safe to assume that that was not a threat. Mainly because whatever was falling towards the ship looked dead already.

The body fell through the main deck and went straight to the lower level of the ship. The captain and his officers stood around the hole on the wooden floor, observing the unconscious and injured body of a girl.

¨I´ve seen some crazy things rain around here... but this is new.¨ he spoke.

They were ready to have someone dispose of the dead body when the girl opened her eyes, putting herself on her shaky legs. Blood dripped from her eyebrows and nose, and she had bruises all over. Her eyes wandered around as if she was looking for something.

¨Z-Zoro...¨ she spoke when her teary eyes met the captain´s ¨I-I need to find Zoro.¨

That was all she said before falling on her knees and collapsing.

</>

Almost a year has passed since the tragedy in Sabaody Archipelago. A year passed since you were defeated in the fight against the marine force. Your gashes closed, and your bruises healed, but there was a wound that would not go away, even after one year.

So much had happened since that day. Luffy had broken into Impel Down, fought in the Paramount War, and lost his brother, Ace. A few days later you received the hidden message he had left you, saying that you were no longer going to meet in Sabaody in three days but in two years.

It took you a while to understand the situation you and the rest of the Strawhats were in, and it took you even more to let go of your selfishness and trust them. The guilt for not being strong enough to protect yourself and your comrades ate you alive during the first weeks, but then you considered how they must be feeling too. No one could have done better.

Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better.

For one year, whenever a News Coo flew by to deliver a newspaper, you would run and grab it before anyone did, hoping to see another message from your friends. But the status of your captain was the only one you knew so far. You knew he was training with Rayleigh-san, and this whole two years thing should have been his idea.

When Bartholomeu Kuma used his Devil Fruit powers on you, you ended up landing on the ship of the Red Hair Pirates. They would always tell you how you rained on their Red Force and broke the deck floor. They said you were looking for someone, and during your stay in the infirmary, you would always call for the same person.

For months nightmares had you waking up in the middle of the night panting and crying. The same one, torturing you in an infinite and merciless loop.

Every detail, color, and noise. Everything was so precise and clear in your head.

When he fought still injured from the last encounter with the Shichibukai; when he stood up and faced the Warlord fearlessly. Even with the damages caused by Kizaru and the Pacifistas, he stood up.

And maybe your eyes fooled you, maybe your exhausted body played a sick trick on you because he was there until he wasn´t.

Right in front of your eyes.

His cropped green hair and tanned skin, the vibrant red and white striped shirt, the scar across his chest, the haramaki, and the swords. Gone, simple as that.

But after all the training that you had with the Red Hair Pirates, you seemed more in peace with yourself. After one year, the nightmares would bother you only every once in a while. You were not prepared for the New World before, maybe still aren´t, but you will get there.

And they made everything easier. It was no mystery why Luffy liked them so much. Whenever you were not engaged in a fight or some other Emperor crap, those guys were incredibly light-spirited. And the moment they realized you were part of Luffy´s crew they treated your wounds and welcomed you onboard.

Shanks agreed to have his men training you, but he made very clear that no one would babysit you, so it was ¨keep up or keep out.¨. You spent most of your time with Yassop, Benn, or Roux, for they were the best in the abilities you exercised.

Inside the Strawhats you were a stealth agent, mostly because of your Devil Fruit, the Nagi Nagi no Mi, once possessed by a Marine Commander. Another Supernova, the Surgeon of Death Trafalgar Law had told you that before shit broke in Sabaody.

You used that combined with your fighting skills to breach the enemy´s first line of defense before they saw you coming. Usually, Usopp would assist you with the sniper training, trade he ¨learned from a friend¨, Sogeking.

His father was an extraordinary sniper, and he used the same kind of firearms as you, differently than Usopp´s slingshot. Benn´s combat skills were remarkable, and Roux was exceptionally fast for a man his size. You haven´t had a lot of opportunities to fight the Red Hair himself, though you had a strong will, his Haki was something you have never seen before.

¨We´re going to a bar, kid. You´re coming?¨ Benn asked you with his cigarette on his lips.

You pondered a little over his invitation but decided to decline it. ¨Thanks, Benn, but I´m keeping a low profile tonight.¨ He nodded and smiled, turning to follow his crewmates ¨Don´t drink too much, we have training tomorrow!¨

The first mate laughed shortly and spoke without looking at you ¨Roger that, kid.¨

You walked the opposite way, wandering between the vegetables and gimmicks tents, feeling the kind sunset kiss your skin. There was some music playing, kids running around with ice cream in their hands, laughing loudly and happily. Marketers were announcing their prices, housewives were thinking about delicious recipes to prepare for their families, and couples would sit together around the font, swearing love to each other.

Every day was like that. The citizens would wish their neighbors ¨good morning¨ from their windows; bakers would open the doors early, letting the delightful smell of fresh bread wake up those who slept in.

How could you, in the middle of all that happiness, feel so sad and lost?

You sighed and made a route change. Maybe you needed a little bit of booze.

The island where Shanks had decided to dock was in the Grand Line, a place where they were known and welcomed. So you knew where they were, and it would be a short walk to get there.

¨Y/N?¨

You turned automatically, thinking that a crew member had gotten lost and was looking for his captain - or boss, how he likes to be called.

But when you saw the man standing in front of you, everything stopped. The music, the kids, and the love promises.

At some point, you started to cry and hyperventilate, believing you were in another nightmare, and you would have to go through that day all over again. Your lover carried pain in his eyes as well, like his fears were the same as yours.

Those minutes you stared at each other felt like hours while you kept every detail of him in your memory. His hair was slightly longer, and his complexion was paler, even with the sunset painting his skin.

¨Z-Zoro...¨ you whispered shakily.

He gave a step forward ¨Y/N... it´s you...¨

You ran in his direction as soon as your name fell out of his mouth. Your arms embraced his neck, and your legs gave up when he held you tight against his body, whispering comforting words as you broke into tears.

¨I...¨ nothing but sobs came out.

¨I know... me too.¨ he fondled your hair and hid his face in the curve of your neck. And there stood the both of you, not wanting to let the other go.

</>

¨How did you know I was here?¨ you asked and he blushed a little.

¨I didn´t... I had to buy stuff for the castle, and I got lost.¨ a loud laugh came out of your mouth. It was so obvious, how didn´t you guess that?

¨They didn´t give you a log pose?¨

¨They did, but I took a nap and when I woke up, I was here.¨

You spent the rest of the day cuddling on the beach sand. Zoro was laying on his back, and you were resting on his chest. You had one year worth of conversation to catch up on, and neither of you rushed to do so. He told you about Mihawk, the creepy island in which the only native habitants were copycat human drills, the boat he destroyed, and even how he begged the Warlord to train him.

The sun had started to hide behind the sea, and the warm sand was cooling down. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore together with the salty breeze made you question if you had died at some point, and that was heaven.

¨You´re paler.¨ he chuckled.

¨It´s not very sunny where I´m living.¨

¨Hm...¨ you hummed ¨And how long did you take to figure out Luffy´s message?¨

¨Oh...¨ he thought for a second ¨ I knew right away.¨ you giggled and doodled on his chest with your finger.

You felt his chest go up and down as he let out a sigh.

¨I missed you, Y/N.¨ he hugged you tighter.

¨I missed you too.¨ you stayed in silence for a few minutes ¨Anyway, when are you setting sail again?¨ You asked him softly, and he tensed up. ¨I know... ¨ your lips began to tremble ¨ I don´t want to go either, but what happened in Sabaody... I don´t want that to happen ever again.¨ you bit your lip as tears started to roll on your cheeks.

He wiped the tears with his fingers and pulled you closer. None of you wanted to part ways again, but not only those were your captain´s order that was your future. If something like that happens again in the New World, a two-year separation would be the best scenario possible.

¨It won´t. I promise.¨

When the night came, you decided to stay on the beach and talked until you fell asleep under the stars. The best sleep you´ve had in a long time. No nightmares, no agony, and no pain. Just the warmth and peace you missed so much.

On the following morning, you helped him get the provisions for Mihawk´s castle. You toured around the city holding hands and joking, kinda like the couples sitting by the font, enjoying every second you had before he left.

If he didn´t get lost trying to go back to Kuraigana Island, it would be a quick trip. You assisted him with the bags and walked him to his boat. Your heart ached to say goodbye to him, but you had to. The circumstances were bigger than the two of you.

¨I love you, Zoro.¨ you hugged him and tried not to cry again.

¨I love you more, Y/N.¨

¨Careful with the naps, ok?¨ he chuckled and nodded ¨One year. We´ll meet again in one year.¨

¨Wait for me. I´ll go get you, and we´ll return to Sabaody together.¨

¨But how will you know where I will be?¨

¨It doesn´t matter where you´ll be. I´ll always find you.¨

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

Welcome To The Pack: Not Lost

Summary- 8.5k Alpha Steve x You. You wake up, and your not in your northern home anymore, but deep in Wakanda, in the palace of T’Challa and under Shuri’s care with Steve and Natasha at your side. Can Shuri fix you? Bucky is about to head out with Clint, Wanda and Pietro to bring back who Brock and Alanna took, The White Wolf and his team are ready for the hunt. Warnings- Smut, bad words. It’s a softer chapter.

A/N- Wow, thank you everyone who reads this. I always appreciate thoughts on The Pack, and what you would like to see. Much Love and Happy Reading. 🐺❤️

Chapter 7 / Pack Masterlist

Bucky returning home made him sigh in relief once him and Clint pulled onto Pack lands once more. The White Wolf pacing his mind lifted his muzzle in appreciation, inhaling deeply the cool forests that they called home.

Don't get too comfortable, we're headed out right away. Brock still has Cassandra. Bucky wouldn't even consider another thought, one where Brock didn't have the woman anymore.

Bucky thoughts darkened with worry for her and the White Wolf growled deeply in the deepest parts of his mind. They might have nothing more than a physical attachment to her, but he was responsible for her safety. Brock would pay for ever laying a hand on her. Bucky turned back to his current thoughts, watching the dappled sunlight through the trees, like it was welcoming them home.

The tension ebbed from his shoulders and glancing at Clint, he could see the archer felt the same way, immediately taking a relaxed stance, elbow on the window sill of the jeep, fingers thrumming the steering wheel in the same way the songs beat flowed through the cab. Although it was a known fact the archer was partially deaf to an military accident when he was a younger man, his other senses heightened. He had once told Bucky he felt music as much as could hear it. It seemed so the way his fingers danced on the steering wheel, following the beats' vibrations.

“Never thought I would be so damn glad to be back.” Barton said as the jeep rumbled towards the garage, and put it into park.

“It's a shame we won't be staying, are you sure you want to come with me?” Bucky asked as he opened the door and slid out, preparing to go find Wanda and get a hold of Pietro who should be headed back to the east coast anytime now.

“Of course, I wouldn't have made the offer brother if I didn't mean it.” The Archer said as he stretched and they made their way towards the gathering group, Sara leading them as she was now the acting Alpha till Steve returned.

“Boys, am I damn glad to see you.” She held her arms out, first hugging Bucky and then Clint, stepping back to inspect them. “Although you two are a sight for sore eyes, I just got off the phone with Sam, he said that clean up at Pierces is now going much faster, since Stark’s crew showed up, and he's hoping the pack can come home within’ a day or two if you two are sticking around.”

“That's good, I’m sure Sam is ready to be back home, as well as you.” Sara gave an affirmative nod, the mates bond ached for their partners when separated, her hand absently moving up to the mark Sam left on her years ago, rubbing it absently. “We're going after Rumlow, he's still got a hostage and we need to return her home, safe.” Bucky said, staying vague. It wasn't that he didn't want Sara knowing, the White Wolf was always a bit of a loner, and did not want the whole pack knowing his relationship with Cassandra, especially since he didn't entirely know himself what it was. “Is Wanda around? I would like to speak with her.”

At the mention of her name, she came out of the crowd, and Sara nodded over to her home. How about we all go inside? You three can discuss what you need to and fill me in on what's going on with the Alpha, Y/N and Natasha.” Her arms embraced around the two men, leading them away from the group. When she felt the rest of the pack unsettled behind her, she looked over her shoulder growling softly for silence. She would fill them in on the details later.

Sara ushered them inside of her home, everyone settling in comfortably while she got beers for all of them, and sat down too.

Bucky wasted no time while screwing off the top of the beer he was given. “Thanks Doll.” Turning to Wanda, he motioned between him and Clint. “I was hoping I could rope you and Pietro into coming with me and Clint while we hunt down Brock and Alanna. They took someone, we need to get her back.”

“If that's what the Alpha has requested, Pietro can meet us on the road if you’re ready to leave right away.”

Bucky shook his head, and twisted the bottle in his hand, messing with the label. “No Wanda, this gotta be something you wanna do. Steve, he's fine with whatever you choose, and I know Stark is your Alpha, so really you're a free Wolf here. But she is probably going to be hurt, in ways… I just don't know. I can really use a healer for her.”

Wanda listened intently, Bucky could see that she was discussing with her Wolf, the risks going off with him and Clint could mean for her and her brother, but then her resolve passed over her face.

Partly why I wanted her with us.

“Of course I will come, I will message Pietro. My brother, he will want to come.” Wanda was already pulling out her phone to call her twin, pulling away from the table. “Pietro, how do you feel about…” Stepping out of the room, Sara turned back to the two of them.

“And Steve… How's he doing?” It was easy to sense her worry and concern for her Alpha and friend. Bucky and Clint look at each other a moment, recalling how feral he had turned in the tunnel.

“Not good, he was close to attacking us after Y/N was infected and lost consciousness. If Bucky wasn't there to challenge him, he probably would have. I'm sure Sam told you Tony is shipping them to Wakanda. Banner seems to think that the Panthers might have a solution to bring her Wolf back.”

“Even if they can't, Steve isn't just letting her go. You know him and the Wolf are already attached to her as if they have already shared the bite.”

Clint nodded in agreement and Bucky winked. “Mans got it bad, I bet y’all fifty bucks they have bonded before they get back.” Sara gasped and smacked Bucky's arm.

“You're terrible, betting on your friends like that.”

Bucky grinned as he tipped up his bottle. “Doll, never said I was a good man or a good wolf.”

Inside the White Wolf yipped in agreement, making Bucky’s grin wider.

Clint piped up on the other side of Sara. “I will take that bet.” and Sara pointed a finger at Clint.

“You're no better than him.” Leaving both the wolves laughing as she got up, shaking her head at them. “Bond or not, Steve obviously cares for her in a way he didn’t with Alanna. I cant see him going all the way to Africa on a whim for her.”

Bucky thought about his best friend's earlier relationship, and had to agree. Their bond wasn't there, Steve had lied to himself for years about it, but if push came to shove, Steve would have stayed with the pack first and sent someone else. With You, you couldn't pry him away, if it had been anyone other than Bucky, he would have killed them for coming near you when you first went under.

“Your right Doll, there isn't anything Steve wouldn't do for Y/N, bond or not.” Bucky agreed and Sara gave a knowing smile.

Wanda came back into the room, her phone going back into her pocket. “Pietro’s in.”

“Good, then let's get packed.” Bucky finished off his beer.

You finally tore yourself away from the view of Wakanda, and went back in, much to Steve’s persuasion. Once you settled back down at a nearby table that still provided a view for you to get lost in. Steve drew his hand along the back of your neck, and you tilted it back, looking up at him. “Hungry? I can call down for breakfast before we go back to the lab.”

You questioned yourself a bit if you wanted food, and was met with quiet in your mind. A stillness that made you uneasy. Usually your Little Wolf would be demanding some answers right now. Or food, she would have liked that. That silence tightens your chest in grief that for the first time you felt alone inside. You put on a smile instead and a nod.

“Breakfast sounds good. I'm ravished Alpha.”

He gave a soft smile and dropped a kiss to your forehead. “Right away Little One.”

Steve went to make that call, you turned back to the view. Tilting your head to inhale deeply, thankfully you didn't lose your strong sense of smell, cause it was something to behold. Heavy sweet scents of fruit encased your tongue, tasting it on the air as if you cupped that fruit in your hands to inhale. Rainfall, it was crisper than your lake, but not quite like the streams you liked to jump over. It was a heavy moisture that seemed to dew even now on your skin, the shower outside was reflecting the sun in prisms that danced around the walls of your room. All of it was so leafy and green in your mind, dripping constantly in the lushness under the towering trees that stretched up to your balcony. Steve footsteps drew you back from your daydream, seating himself across from you.

“It will be up soon Little One.” He reached across the table, and weaved his fingers with yours, studying you.

You nodded and gave a light squeeze to his hand. “How many days has it been Alpha, since all this happened.”

“About three, after you passed out, Barton flew us to Stark. Banner couldn't do anything, but he told us that maybe the Panthers could. A plant, Shuri is positive, it's what caused this to happen to you. The dose Pierce gave you, more than it should have been.”

You wrinkle your nose at what he's saying, trying to keep calm, without the help of your Little Wolf now. But you can't help the shimmer of tears brimming your eyes.

<She is so lost without her Steve.> The Wolf whined, and Steve softly agreed with his beast.

“Come here Little One.” He gave a soft tug to your hand and you raised from your seat circling around the table, where Steve opened his arms, and pulled you gently into his hold till you were cradled into him, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other gently tracing your outer thigh, tucking you into his shoulder.

“I promised you that you're not alone, we will find her Little One. Shuri is sure she isn't gone.”

“No? Then where is she Steve? I searched and called for her. She never came.” Your voice was muffled into his neck, and he could feel the wetness falling on his shoulder to slide down his back. “I'm nothing without her.” You said with defeat and Steve shifted you enough to look at him.

“No Little One, that is not true.” He nudged his nose gently against yours, nipping softly at your lips. “You stood up against your abuser just as you are now, and would again. How many times have your decisions been because they are what you wanted, and she supported you? All your choices, the one to escape, the one to trust me, and the one to fight with the pack, all you Little One. You and Her are the same. Even when you can't see or feel her.”

Steve’s Wolf rumbled softly in response, Steve could feel it rolling through his chest, which you felt the vibration, heard it. His way of saying he agreed. You were no less a wolf then before.

A knock on your door made Steve catch your lips quickly, and pull away, calling out. “Give us a minute.” Tapping gently on your thigh to signal you to get up, he reached for a folded robe at the end of the bed, and snapped it open to ease onto you, and while you were tying it shut, he grabbed his own, and slipped it on to go to the door. Opening it, they found Natasha standing there, with a full cart of food.

“Figured I would join you two, if you don't mind?”

“Of course not Nat, there's plenty for all of us.” Steve stepped aside, and when Natasha came in, she grinned seeing you awake.

“Thank God, it's so good to see you Y/N! I thought I was gonna be stuck here alone with Steve.” She ditched the cart once it was inside and went over to hug you, which you were so happily to give back, nuzzling into the red head.

“It's so good to see you to, and I wouldn't subject you to that. What kind of pack member would I be, leaving you all alone with the Alpha. “ Steve strolled the cart past them, snorting at them.

“I see how it is, two against one. That's fine, don’t worry about it. I will just leave you two alone.” He gave a teasing growl while popping a grape in his mouth, stopping at the table.

You and Natasha grin at each other and follow along after him.

“Not like you can eat all this yourself.” You sweep down into Steve's lap, picking up the cup of coffee he just made while Natasha took the seat next to you two, quickly falling into easy conversation till Shuri called for you all to join her in the lab.

Back home Sara was giving the group lasting hugs as they all prepared to leave. Sam still wasn’t back with the rest of the pack, and maybe she was getting a little emotional as she hugged Bucky around his neck. “Stay safe, and come home soon. You hear me Buck? Sam misses it when you take off.”

Bucky couldn't help but grin at this news, and Sara groaned softly. “You can't tell him I ever said that either. My mate would never forgive me.”

At this the whole group laughed, Bucky folding his arms over each other. “Sara, that man worships the ground you walk on. He would forgive you in ten seconds if he thought you were sad about it.”

Wanda arched a brow to see if Sara would deny it and Clint, grinned, knowing full well Bucky told the truth.

“Fine! He really wouldn't, but for the love of god, don't Barnes. Or I won't forgive you.” She said and ushered the three of them to the vehicle. “Be safe!”

Barnes slipped in behind the wheel as Clint and Wanda got in as well, closing the door and letting his elbow rest on the door. “Doll, don't worry about it. We will see you soon” Giving Sara a wink, he flicked on the radio and left.

Sara watched from the side, watching the dust kick up behind the Suv. Trying to battle the unease in the pit of her stomach.

Her Wolf sidled up with a whine, her ears laid back as she watched her family drive away.

It will be okay, they will be home safe. Sam will be home safe. Steve, Y/N and Natasha will be home safe.

Sara didn't answer the Wolf, turning away from the road and headed back to her cabin, clearly not having an answer.

Down in the lab, you stuck close to Steve’s side, again immensely missing your Little Wolf's presence in your mind as you looked around in awe. Natasha followed along close behind, her hand taking your free one, and giving a light squeeze of assurance. Steve's arm was also wrapped around your waist, keeping you tucked in close. His eyes would glance down at you once in a while, and catch yours, giving you a soft smile and pressing his lips to the top of your hair, soft and silken against his mouth as he would mouth softly. “You're not alone.”

You're not alone.

You repeated it back to yourself, and turned back towards the awaiting Panthers. Natasha released your hand while Steve drew you forward to introduce you to the others now that you were awake. Steve could feel the soft nervous shiver that rolled through you, catching these predators scent. It spoke of night stalking in the jungle treetops and danger, although Shuri beamed wide at you, and the King smiled softly. “Alpha, your queen is a true beauty.” Taking your hand he bowed his head to touch his forehead to your knuckles and backed up afterwards. Steve's hand tightened around you slightly. “Y/N, this is the King of Wakanda, T’Challa.”

“Errr, what is respectful to a King? I'm sorry, this kind of etiquette I just don't know.”

Shuri gave a laugh and T’Challa put up his hands. “You have no need to be formal Y/N, that is only for the rituals of old. T’Challa is fine.”

“If we had to bow down every time, his head would get swollen.” Shuri made a motion around her head, and crossed her eyes at T’Challa. You gave a soft laugh listening to the siblings.

“And this is my sister, Shuri.” T’Challa said, clearly ignoring Shuri now. And Shuri bounced forward, slinging her arm around your shoulders.

“What do you say, I drag you away from your Alpha and see if we can't figure out where your Wolf has wandered off to?”

You bite your lip and look up at Steve, who gives a soft nod, and extracts his arm from around your hip. Shuri is quick to drag you away, chatting the whole time while you look over your shoulder one last time at Steve and Natasha before turning back towards her.

“I’m sorry, what?” You can't help but feel your Little Wolf would have really liked her, she was so outgoing and just automatically acted like you two were friends.

“What happened, after Piece gave you the shot?” She asked again and had you sit on an examination table.

“Oh.” You rub at the back of your neck, watching Shuri closely while she tapped on a computer. “It all happened suddenly, the syringe was emptied into me, and then there was pain. All over, and my Little Wolf collapsed where she was, withering in pain, and said she was trying to hold on, but then… she was just… gone.” You wiped at your face, wishing Steve was there, but you could still sense him. Just on the other side of the door, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself. Shuri was typing quickly, hissing in aggravation at your story.

“Fucking asshole gave you like five times what he should, no wonder you fell into a coma like state.” Shuri said sympathetically, and tapped her computer till it projected an image.

It showed a flower, beautiful to look at, something exotic like you've never seen in your woods before. You study it closer, the shape of the flower reminded you of a calla lily, the shimmering purple almost glowing that made it almost seem unreal, ethereal.

“This is what he gave me? What is it?” you tear your gaze away and Shuri comes over by you, also looking at the flower.

“We simply call it a Heart Shaped Herb, native to Wakanda. Very rare, and we grow it in a special place, so how Pierce got it…” She bared her teeth in agitation. “We are looking into that. It’s abilities include putting our Beasts into hibernation. Which, I think is where your Wolf is right now. You can't find her cause she's in a deep sleep. Right now.”

“Can you wake her?” You ask, a bit of hope in your voice. And Shuri nods.

“Give me a bit of time, and access to your mind Y/N, and I think she will be back with you.”

You gave a soft pleased cry and hugged around Shuri’s neck, who hugged you back, patting your back.

“My Panther thinks you're absolutely adorable!” Shuri giggled.

In the other room, Steve and Natasha watched the interactions, Steve’s Wolf pacing back and forth, his ears roving back and forth.

Can you hear them?

<No, but isnt going to stop me from trying.>

She is safe here.

Steve switched subjects on the Beast, tilting his head as he watched you stretch out on the table.

Our Little One, she seems relieved.

Not at all, I think she will be okay. I trust the Panther.

The Wolf finally settled down, still watching. <I do to, she is good for our Mate.>

Natasha gave the Alpha a sidelong glance. “What are you two discussing, I can see the way you're concentrating on Y/N that the both of you are extremely focused.”

Letting his gaze break from you as you and Shuri broke apart, and you started to get comfortable on the examination table, he loosened his rigid hold, relaxing slightly. “My Mate of course.”

Natasha let her eyes roam over her Alpha as he went back to watching you, making sure you were safe above all else.

<Do you think he's noticed that he no longer battles denying she is his?> The Red Wolf thoughts echoed in Natasha’s mind. Although she kept a straight face, not letting the smile she could feel bubbling in her chest cross her face. Natasha was happy for Steve, she had been witness to the years before he was Alpha of the Pack, and many times forced herself to bite her tongue at disrespecting Alanna out loud. But her and her Wolf, neither liked the woman who wound herself into Steve’s life at the time.

I do not know, but being a mate is good for him, having someone to call his own.

Shuri spent about an hour tapping into your mind, searching for any sign of the Little Wolf, and finally once she finished, knowing you were exhausted.

“You did great Y/N.” She helped you up, and motioned for Steve to come inside. “How about you go rest with your Alpha, and I'm sure T’Challa has set it up where you two can go do some exploring. Just not too much.” Shuri stressed looking at Steve, who arched a brow, taking your hand to help you to a stand.

“Trust me, my mate's health is first and foremost in my mind.” Steve assured Shuri as he steadied you on your feet, always knowing just where you were at his side even when he wasn't looking at you. You picked up that subtle remark, letting it sink in that he had called you his Mate. Shuri gave a nod, and flashed you a smile.

“I hope to see you at Dinner tonight. T’Challa I’m sure will be extending an invitation. Some of the clans will get together on the palace grounds, and will all love to meet our Northern Friends. But only if you've gotten rest.”

You gave an assuring smile to Shuri as you let yourself lean into Steve. Even without the Little Wolf adding her own desires, you still craved that closeness to him. “Im afraid my attire is very limited.” Steve's hand dipped along your ribs, tracing your body through the wisps of clothing you had been given while here. He started to ease you away, ready to get you back to the room. He could feel the strain the past hour had put on you.

“We will see tonight Highness, if Y/N is up for it.” Excusing the two of you for the elevator, you rubbed at your forehead a bit, and he enclosed you close in his arms during the speedy ride up to your floor, his voice soft as he inhaled against your neck, feeling the rumble more than hear him.

“You okay?” Tilting his head to be able to look at you and you nodded, rubbing your face against his rumbling chest and looked up at him with a grin.

“Im okay Alpha, a shower and nap. I will be as good as new.” Once the doors opened, both of you headed towards the rooms you were staying in, and opening the door, Steve saw someone had brought them up some food. Fresh cut fruit, drizzles of golden honey to spread over it, light and appreciated as you inspected it, surprised to find you stomach rumbling while Steve went to start the shower for you. Taking a slice of kiwi, you put just a touch of the golden sweetness on it, and taste, giving a soft surprised moan at the taste.

“Oh damn.”

Immediately hearing you, Steve popped his head out of the bathroom, tugging off his shirt and tossing it to the now made bed. “Find something good?”

You chuckled softly seeing him getting ready to join you in the shower while you were snacking. Licking at your fingertip, you went to pass him to go into the bathroom. “Fruit and honey. And honestly the best I've ever tasted.” Steve caught sight of some golden droplets at the corner of your lip and he grasped your chin, letting his tongue lap at the stickiness. He rumbled softly in appreciation. “It certainly does taste good, on you.” Catching the wicked gleam in his eye, you bit at your lip and thought about going back for more. But he turned you towards the shower with a gentle nudge and chuckle having seen the shift in your expression.

“Later, we’re not leaving right away.”

You relent, and start stripping off your clothes, and let them fall where they land. Your hand tests the water, and then you duck inside, stepping under the rainstorm shower head, tilting your head back to let it flow over your face and into your hair. A rustle behind you and a brush of Steve’s chest across your back had you backing up to give him room. He ducked his head under and gave a vigorous shake of his head, spraying water before he stepped out. “Turn around Little One, let me wash your hair.”

Glancing at the choices provided, you picked up a bottle and flipped the cap, sniffing it. Fresh and clean, lightly scented with a hint of citrus, you handed the bottle to Steve and did as he asked. The Alpha took it and palmed a generous amount. Letting his fingers massage against your scalp, keeping it in a steady deep pressure without it hurting. You groaned, tilting your head this way and that when he pressed slightly.

Steve admired the way the water beaded on your skin, and streaked down your body, the droplets precarious in the curves before falling over the edge and falling away from your body. Your soft sighs made the Beast rumble softly in appreciation, and it rolled through Steve as he pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “Close your eyes so I can rinse.” His tone dropped an octave, his Alpha tone. There was no impulse directly from your Little Wolf, but you still didnt even think twice about it as you stepped back under and his hands massaged your hair again, making the suds fall away. A light grasp to your throat brought you back into his chest, his nose tracing the column of your neck, inhaling deeply, and nuzzling against your pulse. A lap of his tongue over what you knew would be his preferred spot to mark you made you shiver in his hold. “Steve?” you questioned, but the Alpha just inhaled one last time and let you go. You waited patiently for him to tell you what to do as his eyes looked down your back. You no longer tried to hide the scars, not like before. His hands eased over them, and he felt that shiver that rolled through you. One day he would touch you there, and you wouldn’t fight it.

“Face me Little One.” Hands eased you to face him, and another palmful of soap was applied, his hands sliding down your shoulders, your arms, then back up. He groaned, not hiding at all how turned on he was just seeing you dripping wet. “Little One, you are so incredibly beautiful.” Down to your full breasts, his fingertips just sliding over your nipples, and rolling between calloused pads, pulling slightly to hear you gasp and that shift in your eyes spark in arousal.

“Even though I'm just me right now?” Your brows furrowed, your head dropping enough for wet strands to hide your face from him in that moment. He was quick to bring your back, palming your breasts and giving a firm squeeze. “

“Little One, Y/N” He used your name to really drive his next words into you. “I still want you just as you are now. If you wanted my bite, I would bond with you right now Y/N, don't think that you're not a wolf just because you can't see the Little Wolf. She is you, and you are her.” His hands massaged your quivering belly, and over your hips to reach behind and clasp your ass, pulling you in close against him. Before you could make any kind of argument against what he said, he claimed your mouth, his size pressing you to step back under the warm spray when he advanced. His hands rinsed you off, warm slippery skin under his palms, curves he had grown intimate with. You couldn't help digging your fingers in slightly on his arms when your back contacted the cool tile, you gasped into his mouth.

“That's right Little One.” He growled against your lips, then lapping his tongue along the roof of your mouth, and over your teeth before once more pulling away, making you lean forward and whine at the loss of contact. “I will always want you by my side.” His hands didnt stop till the reached your waist and Steve went to his knees, his nose sliding over your stomach to kiss and nip around your belly button. Everything he said was true, him and the Wolf were completely enraptured with you, and had a lifetime to find out all the little things that made up who you were.

Changing those nips to kisses, the traveled further town, his beard scraping against your thighs till you couldn't take the teasing any longer, the burn making you wetter than you already were. Your fingers plunged into his hair and your thighs parted so that his cheek could rub up against your inner thigh.

“Again Alpha?” You shuddered, and tipped your head back, moaning when you felt the rasp of his beard again and his nose trailed your slit before he even took a taste.

“You smell so sweet Little One, much better than that honey.” A hand moved from your waist to the back of your thigh sliding to your knee and lifting to hook it over his shoulder. Nothing would be hidden from him, and he kissed your inner thigh pressed near his cheek, firmly biting it hard enough to bruise, leaving his teeth impressions without breaking your skin. The sting made your back arch off the tile, tightening your hold in his hair, hissing with satisfaction.

You could feel the upturned curve of his lips pressing where the bruise would form, but then your Alpha turned his attention to your aching core, and you spied a look down, that made you whimper, clench around nothing yet. His gaze on you wasn't just a man in need, it was a beast. Eyes shimmering a slight yellow as his pupils enlarged, the pink of his tongue escaping to plunge between your folds, and gathered your slick all over his tongue with a deep lap, the tip teasing your clit before going back to inhaling your arousal, making his head swarm, the Wolf to start howling in his lust. You were perfect, completely enrapturing him with those soft mewling sounds above him whenever he honed in on a sensitive spot for you.

“Steve, Alpha” you chanted his name, tugging his hair to press him in more. His beard scraping your sensitive folds every time he took those long laps to spread your slick, and when his teeth would pull at your folds, his lips suck on your clit, it was just a mess of sensations that made your jolt under his firm hold. He would growl at you once in a while out of instinct, his eyes flicking up at you to see you start to fall apart. “Please Alpha.” Begging now for him.

The vibrations from Steve made you clench around him the moment he let his tongue fill you, stroking your fluttering walls and sucking all the juices, squeezing you to give him more. Your thigh ached to close against his head, and you tilted your head back, giving a low wail when he took one more demanding stroke with his tongue. “Little One, Look at me.” The Alphas voice was graveled, not giving an option to deny him, you struggled to look at him, but once your eyes locked, he bit your mound, drawing it into his mouth, while he sucked on your clit, and you knew he wanted you to cum for him.

Another lap, demanding growl and harder fingers, one hand pinning your hip against the cool tile while being misted by the warm water, and Steve's other hand had laid claim to your thigh over his shoulder, his arm folded over it, and fingertips biting in your inner thighs sensitive flesh. When the Alpha looked up again, eyes now a weird mix of yellow and blue, the wolf laying claim to you as well, you broke for him. Flooding his mouth with your release, grinding into him as you stiffened almost painfully, he worked your orgasm from its high to low point, letting you sink down the tile, when he let your leg drop, and when you landed before him, he grasped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, needing to lay claim not just to your body, but to all of you.

Fingers curled at the back of his neck, your eyes closed as your tongue danced with his, when he broke from you, your head fell to his shoulder and you could hear Steve whispering. “I got you Little One, sleep.” and the water suddenly stopped. Somewhere as you were fading away, you could feel his hands sliding around your wet body and then his firm chest cushioning you. Even further away, a barely there howl you were all too familiar with made you stir in his arms, your Little Wolf calling for you before you sunk back into a deep sleep.

When you woke, there was a soft light in the room and that's what your eyes focused on at first. It was a lamp near the bed, and you rolled to the other side, seeking out Steve but he wasn't there either. Rubbing at your eyes to focus them, you inhaled to try and scent him instead. You just barely caught him amid the barrage of other smells, and you would see him on the balcony, ear to his shoulder like he was holding a phone, and leaning forward on muscled forearms against the balconies railing and the muscles in his back were taunt in that position. You allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the sight before you. His deep voice drifted back to you in bits and pieces, but you picked up enough to know he must be talking to either Sam or Bucky. After a few moments you pushed the sheet covering you off and started to seek out some clothes, pushing yourself up out of the soft bed.

Hearing the sheet rustle, Steve glanced over his shoulder to see you move to a stand, arching your arms over your head, and the curve of your back dipped further in an arch. Momentarily distracted as he admired you, Sam's voice grew aggravated.

“Steve? Did I lose you?”

Turning away from watching you sort through some clothes Shuri had provided, Steve went back to Sam.

“No I’m here, Y/N just woke up.” He stated and Sam gave a slight chuckle in a knowing manner. “So you are all about to head back home? Were you able to find a temporary Alpha for them till that pack can figure out what they wanted to do?”

“Caine is going to take over, he wants to. Turns out Pierce didn't actually kill all those Wolves he claimed he did. A few, but there's still plenty there. Tony's crew turned up, helped us out. The Council came down. Ross in particular.” Steve heard a slight growl in Sam’s voice, and he couldn't disagree. Ross had a way of pushing the wrong buttons. “Claims he wants to speak with you once you come home.”

“Well his ass can wait. I don't know when I will be home.” A pair of hands slid up his back, and Steve straightened, his arm moving to rest around yours and pull you in against his chest, his nose dipping into your hair and breathing you in while he listened to Sam.

“What I told him. Besides what he doesn’t know wont hurt his ass any. As soon as I get home, we’re picking up those customer orders that had been sidetracked, but other than that things are all good here. Tell Y/N that Sara is ready for her to come home and send your girl our love.”

“Of course, you can tell her yourself actually.” Steve handed you the phone, and you pressed it to your ear, talking to Sam for a few minutes.

“Miss you guys too, I will keep him in line.” You give Steve a look and he gives a playful growl, snapping his teeth near your ear before kissing your shoulder, making you laugh as you hang up the phone.

“Sam seems to like playing Alpha.” You hand it back to Steve while he drops it into his pocket.

“Well good, I will take you on more exotic vacations like this one.” He teased, wrapping you in his arms and you rubbed his chest looking excitedly up at him.

“Alpha, before I fell asleep…”

“In the shower.” Steve had a bit of a grin, and you felt your cheeks get warm at the memory, his hand catching your chin and pressing his lips to yours. “Don't be shy, it was beautiful seeing you like that.”

You could feel your body warm, and the praise settle in, making you feel good. “ANYWAYS, I think I heard my Little Wolf!”

Steve arched his brows in surprise, and the Wolf stirred to hear you, pushing himself up from where he was resting and pacing closer to the front of Steve’s mind.

Did you really doubt Shuri and Y/N that they couldn't bring her back?

The Wolf flicked his ears back and let his muzzle drop, sighing. <Some of me did.>

I was worried too. You're not the only one.

Steve's hands rubbed along your back and grinned at your news, kissing your forehead, and letting his hands move to cup your face. “We will tell Shuri when we go down to dinner, maybe she will be back home sooner than we thought if you heard her.”

You couldn't help the elation you were feeling, that you might have her back soon, fill that emptiness that you have been feeling since that day.

“Dinner? Oh that's right, but I have nothing to wear.” You frowned a bit and Steve took your hand, leading you inside the room.

“Natasha is waiting for you. The Queen and Shuri had outfits brought up for you two to pick from. Nat insisted they were brought to her room, and that you can change with her once you woke up.” Steve loved seeing the excitement suddenly flash across your face, and he grabbed a tee to yank on, and opened the door. “Shall we?” Slipping your hand into his, he led you down the hallway, your gaze wandering. Beautiful woven tapestries, mostly of Panthers lined the hallways.

You were a bit excited, you had never had the opportunity to dress up before, not for anyone. You just genuinely hoped you could give something for Natasha to work with. Stopping a few doors down from you, Steve knocked and Natasha’s voice rang out “Come in.”

What Steve opened the door to was not what you were expecting and your eyes widened taking in the room. There were outfits everywhere and even Steve looking around seemed a bit overwhelmed.

Natasha on the other hand, with a glass of what looked like champagne was perfectly at home, running her fingers over the richly colored fabrics, until she reached you. “Perfect, Alpha I got her. You go get ready yourself.”

Steve gave a half grin looking down at you in apology, and you gave him a gentle push. “Go on, let Nat doll me up, see if I can't make you pant a little later.” You winked as he growled.

“You always do Little One.” Nuzzling your neck he pulled away and Natasha handed you your own glass of champagne while shutting the door.

“Lets blow his fucking mind. Okay, here's what I was thinking.” She tugged you along, and you were lost in a sea of bright colors and girl talk.

They had been on the road most of the afternoon, Bucky got the coordinates from the trackers Steve had sent when Cassandra first came up missing. Wanda sent Pietro a message of where to meet them once Bucky confirmed where the trackers were waiting. It wasn’t anything more than a few hours drive. Meeting up all together in a truck stop diner, late at night. They all crowded around a table, pulling up extra chairs, and the waitress came over, taking their orders. Small talk was exchanged at first, waiting till they would be left alone for a period of time after food was brought to them. Once everything was brought, and their host left them to enjoy their meals, they turned towards the food, each one digging in.

Ravenous as Bucky, Clint and Wanda were, they spoke between bites, Pietro next to his sister would quickly reach in and snag a fry, making her growl at him while he smirked.

“Can't share with your brother?”

“Get your own.” she responded as she dunked it in ketchup and popped it in her mouth.

“Why when I can just take yours?” He grinned and lightning quick grabbed another.

Bucky normally wouldn't say anything, knowing the twins were playing in their usual manner, but there wasn't time for games. The White Wolf growled at the younger Wolves and they were quick to quiet down, Wanda sliding her plate between the two of them to share while Bucky turned back to the trackers.

“Do you have any idea of where Brock and Alanna are?”

They both nodded, the older, a male named Adam slipped a piece of paper across the table. “From what Tonya dragged up about them, they have been staying here for a few months. We checked it out before you all came into town, and sure enough their scent is all over it. And others, I'm guessing it's your woman Bucky.”

Bucky didn't correct him, even though he did catch Clint's side eye.

<Tonight, we can't wait any longer to get to her and pull her out.>

Tonight, as soon as we clear it with the rest.

Bucky looked among the wolves seated around him, and he knew the White Wolf was right. He couldn't have asked for better pack members then what he had right here with him now.

“And the house is currently occupied, we saw movement inside. Someone checks the curtains once in a while although they are closed all the time.” Tonya added, and Bucky nodded, looking at each member of their tables.

“Tonight, after dark, we storm the place. Get Cassandra out, if Brock and Alanna are casualties then so be it.” Bucky said, and there were nods from around the group.

“Well sounds like a good time Alpha.” Pietro grinned from across the table, and Bucky snorted, arching his brows in amusement.

“I'm no Alpha.”

Clint chuckled and slapped his comrades back. “Ya are tonight man, this is your gig. Were along for the ride.”

Wanda nodded at him while dunking another fry, and the trackers joining them shrugged and nodded. “We did our part, we're just following you now.”

Bucky growled out with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know how the fuck Steve puts up with all of you.” The White Wolf shook out his fur, arching to a stand.

Bucky didn't have anything to say to that, he just reached over and stole one of Wanda's fries from her fingers and popped it in his mouth with a grin.

Steve had knocked on Nat’s door, but Nat opened it just a peek, not allowing him to look in. “Were not ready yet.”

“Where is Y/N, is she okay?” He asked trying to look over Natasha’s head, inhaling deeply your scent that was reaching him, but she blocked him, hands moving to her hips.

“She’s just fine Steve. Now go on downstairs and we will join you soon.” Natasha worked on closing the door. But the Alpha and the Wolf were not entirely ready for that and his foot blocked it from shutting completely.

“Shouldn't I escort you ladies down? That is the gentlemanly thing to do after all.” The Wolf huffed in laughter at his attempts, but Natasha shook her head, green eyes glimmering in amusement. “I will escort her, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.” Pushing his foot out, the door closed on Steve, and he relented.

“If you're not down in ten minutes, I’m coming back up!” He raised his voice through the heavy wooden door and tilted his head listening. Natasha’s distinct laugh on the other side.

The redhead had her ear pressed against the door, listening to Steve's retreating steps before turning back to you, wriggling into the dress. “You think he's really going to like this?” You pressed once more as you turned in the mirror and Natasha tilted her head, inspecting you.

“Y/N, you got my wolf howling.” Grabbing her lipstick and turning you towards her, applying it on. “Just need this last touch. Done.”

You took one last look, smoothing a hand over the lush fabric, Natasha grinning over your shoulder while also admiring you in the full length mirror. “Trust me Y/N, he will not be able to contain himself.”

Steve had entered the banquet room, to see Wakandians milling around, the Wolf in him alerting all the non wolf predators in the room, his hackles raising slightly and shaking himself out like he was trying to shake out the nerves.

It's okay, they are friends.

<I know, I know.> The Wolf paced around a couple times and started to settle back down in his mind. <Still makes me nervous.>

T’Challa approached him with a friendly smile, still keeping a bit of distance, sensing the Alphas' wariness. “Welcome Roger’s, it's an honor you were able to come.” Steve was first to hold his hand out, and gave a shake.

“Y/N and Natasha will be down soon, they are still getting themselves prepared.”

T’Challa gave a smile in acknowledgment, motioning towards his sister who was excitedly talking with an older lady. “My mother and Shuri were rather excited to be able to send up some clothing for them. How are you three settling in? Accommodations are suitable?”

“Excellent, Y/N is rather taken with the balcony and the view. Over the canopy this morning a flock of macaws caught her eye.” T’Challa laughed with a nod.

“They come by every morning, loud beasts aren't they.”

“Hell yes.” The Alpha grumbled good-natured. “But stunning. Thank You again for opening your home. Should you ever come to the states, we would love you to visit The Pack.”

“I might take you up on that.” T’Challa was quick to surprise Steve. “I plan on traveling there in a year or two to New York. Dr.Cho who works for Stark is tackling the genetics issue of your children, and is hoping to exchange her work with ours, to resolve it. At least let your females come to term easier and safer in their pregnancies. We've had good luck here, again thanks to Shuri.” Steve took interest in this, he couldn't fathom getting into specifics, as he wouldn’t understand, but the problem had plagued the Wolves for a lifetime. “We're only waiting cause Dr.Cho is still doing her own studies. We have similar issues, but separate species and all. I honestly don't understand much of it, but Shuri seems very hopeful.”

“That’s incredible. Do you really think you could help us?” Steve had given up the idea of having his own children years ago, but now if you two decided to make it official, it could be a possibility.

The Wolf had started to grow excited at the prospect.

<Imagine the cabin with our children, bringing them to Little One in the morning so she could cuddle with them.> Steve's mind was filled with images of you with a full bump, the sight of you in the moonlight, bathing in the glow. Inhaling deeply to simmer himself down, the whole idea… well it set the Alpha on edge.

“It is always a possibility. Never say never Alpha.” The King gave a shrug and looked over Steve’s shoulder, his face brightening up. “And here comes the ladies now.” T’Challa turned towards where Steve had entered, and the Alpha caught sight of Natasha first, but then she stepped aside to talk to you, and Steve could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

You were always beautiful to him, he had a hard time keeping hands off you. But when you came in, The Wolf howled your song, and his own eyes widened a bit. Rich blue was wrapped around you, loose and flowing at the bottom, the top hugged around your waist and cusped around your breasts, showing off all those curves Steve had gotten familiar with. A simple bit of silver adorned your throat. Natasha had done your hair in a manner that wasn’t your usual style, but it framed your face in a wispy gentle way. Your hand smoothed down the curves of your side, and looked around. He could even see you tilting your head up a bit, nose in air seeking him out with closed eyes. Images of you again dancing in the moonlight struck him and the Wolf growled softly, need, lust, desire. It was all hitting Steve at once. Would he be able to last through this dinner?

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