#a fresh start

[starwarsmum]

A Fresh Start chapter 1! Originally uploaded to AO3 last year in December but I never posted it here

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61344961/chapters/156796432

“Louis doesn't need me, Mari,” Adrien said softly, eyes pleading as he stood at the door to their apartment with his bags. “And you don't either. But I have the chance to be something more again and I have to take it.”

“Adrien…” Marinette was lost for words, her eyes full of tears as she cradled their five-month-old son against her chest. He took her lack of argument as permission and smiled at her before leaving his key on the counter and walking out.

_ _ _

Marinette looked around her too small apartment one last time as she picked up her carry-on suitcase. Louis was waiting at her parents’ bakery, his own carry-on ready to go. She had given up hoping that Adrien would return and the apartment had only been intended as a temporary home until they found a house.

Still, her heart ached as she closed the door for the final time, taking the key down to the landlord and accepting her deposit back. It had been a year and a half since Adrien had left for London, Louis was nearly two and only knew his father through photos and the occasional letter. 

She took several minutes outside the bakery to pull herself back together, checking to make sure she had no tears on her face. She didn't feel completely right but it was as good as it was going to get, so she pushed into the bakery with a forced smile.

“Maman!” A flash of blond hair and a sparkle of blue eyes and her smile became less forced as she caught her son up in a hug. All of her worries about moving to America were silenced in that moment; she was doing this to give them both a fresh start, and Jagged had promised that he had friends who wanted/needed a new designer. 

“Louis, were you good for Mami and Papi?” She asked, voice full of adoration as he beamed up at her and nodded. She kissed the top of his head and looked at her parents. Her Papa looked conflicted, both happy that she was moving on at last and sad that she had to move countries to get a clean slate to work from. “We should probably get going, our taxi is waiting for us.”

“You will be visiting soon though, right?” Her Maman had shining eyes as she pulled her into a tight hug. Her Papa came over as well, enveloping all three of them in his arms as he made her promise to call as often as she could. 

Sitting in the back of the taxi with Louis in her lap she felt relief wash over her. For better or worse the decision was made and she was going to make it work somehow.

_ _ _

After two weeks in their new home, Marinette missed her old flat. The new one was nicer but it didn't feel right yet. Louis was struggling to settle in and kept eating the same three meals, over and over. Marinette sighed as she prepared his lunch - a tuna sandwich with carrot and cucumber sticks - wondering how she was going to cope. 

Checking her phone, she cursed silently as she realized she had lost track of time again. She had a meeting in the north of Gotham to deliver a new suit for Jagged and if she didn't leave in the next ten minutes she would be late. She had yet to visit his Gotham address and she was nervous about showing up late.

“Louis, I'm just going to put your sandwich in your lunch box and you can eat it in the car, okay?” She called, not waiting for a response as she grabbed boxes and water bottles. The movements were well practiced but she felt jittery which made her clumsy. 

She was in the car with Louis strapped in the back only five minutes late and she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel nervously as she glanced at her maps. She had messaged Jagged and told him that she was running behind and would be there shortly, but no response had come through.

She was halfway to Jagged's address when her car gave a clunk and the engine died. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw that Louis was still awake and just barely held back from cursing. Her luck has been awful since defeating Hawkmoth and returning the Ladybug earrings, excepting Louis.

Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to centre herself before grabbing her phone and messaging Jagged the problem. She then stepped out of the car and looked around the quiet street, wondering if there was anywhere she could go to get some help or if she would have to rely on waiting for a tow truck.

When nobody materialised she got to work. She popped the hood of the car, peering at the mass of engine parts and grumbled as she admitted to herself that she wouldn't be able to guess her way through it. She decided to open Louis’ door to get some fresh air whilst she looked for a reputable company to call for help.

She was looking at a promising one when a black and white blur shot past her and landed in the backseat with Louis. She jumped, dropping her phone as she tried to see what was happening only to pull up short when she was met with a distinguished looking cat. A cat that was purring in her son's lap as it ate his tuna sandwich.

She stared nonplussed, trying to think of a way to extricate the cat without potentially hurting Louis. She grabbed her phone only to be met with a shattered screen and her already overwhelmed brain gave up. It wasn't fair, she had been a goddamned superheroine in her youth, why didn't anything ever go right for her?

“Alfred!” A man was walking up the street now, clearly looking for the cat. He was glancing under cars and in doorways when he spotted her. She had sat down to have her mini breakdown and scrambled to stand up. “Excuse me, have you seen a cat, black and white and about this big?”

Wordlessly she gestured into her backseat so that he could see the cat still purring as Louis patted its head. The man gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I'm so sorry, he's usually a much better behaved cat but one of my idiot brothers watched my pets for me recently and denied him nothing. He has been most displeased that I have not been feeding him a diet of treats and tuna upon my return. I can remove him from your car and pay for whatever he has eaten.”

“Actually, if you could help me call for a tow truck we can call it even,” she said, holding up her broken phone. “My car decided to die on my way to my uncle's home and I have no clue how to fix it. I was just searching for a company when your cat appeared.”

“Of course, let me take a look at it before we call for help.” He immediately stripped off the jacket he was wearing, revealing muscular arms that Marinette tried her best not to stare at. He was unfairly attractive, tan skin and dark hair that was gelled back. It didn't take long for him to determine the issue. “Your oil appears to have run low, it does not seem to have done irreparable damage yet. I have a canister at home and can top it up for you.”

“Oh thank god, I don't know how I'd cope if it was something unfixable,” she said in relief, smiling at him. “Thank you so much! Do you want to take your cat with you? I think he's finished eating the tuna out of Louis' sandwich.”

They both peered into the backseat and were met with the sight of both the toddler and cat asleep. Louis’ hand was flat on the cat's - who was curled in a tight ball - back, and it was adorable. Marinette felt her smile stretch, the view making her former irritation wash away.

“If you can ensure he does not run away, my home is only a minute or two from here,” the man offered, smiling softly as well. 

True to his word he returned within five minutes, oil in hand. He also had a pen and some paper, for what purpose Marinette wasn't sure. He refilled her oil and came around to the open car door again.

“My name is Damian, by the way,” he said, tearing the sheet of paper in half and holding both out to her. “Here, my number. As your phone is damaged, probably when Alfred startled you, I feel I should replace it. But you are clearly on your way somewhere, so if you could write down a way to contact you we can keep in touch.”

“Oh, you don't have to replace my phone!” Marinette yelped, blushing fiercely. “I really should have a chain, or a charm, or something so I don't drop it. I'm madly clumsy anyway, I was bound to break it sooner or later.”

“I see,” he said, hand lowering with the paper and pen still clutched within it. “I didn't mean to presume anything, I'm sure your partner wouldn't like you coming home with a stranger's number.”

“Oh, haha, no, I don't, um, there's nobody,” she said with a slightly sad smile on her face. Damian tilted his head slightly and she shrugged as she looked at Louis’ peaceful face. “Louis' father decided to pursue something ‘more’ quite a while ago. I actually only moved to Gotham a couple of weeks ago, hoping for a fresh start.”

“He must be an idiot if he thought he could find something more,” Damian muttered, flushing when her eyes flitted to him in surprise. “Apologies, that was inappropriate. I only meant that you are a beautiful woman, and you have a son together…what more could possibly be out there?”

“I'm Marinette, and I think maybe we should get coffee sometime,” she blurted after several seconds of silence. His face brightened as he held the paper back out, and she accepted it easily this time. She scrawled her number and email address before handing it over to him. “But you're right, I really do have to get going right now. I'll text you as soon as I replace my phone and we'll see about that coffee, okay?”

“I can hardly wait.” 

Marinette climbed back into her car after Damian had removed Alfred expertly from Louis' clutches. It started without a problem and she waved goodbye as she continued on her way to Jagged's. Maybe her luck wasn't so bad after all.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [24]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: [18+ only] controlled training combat, self defense lessons, smut (we're finally here, folks), oral female receiving

Word Count: 6,444

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: so sorry this took nine thousand years. i probably have more announcements here but i'm bone tired so let's get on with it lolol also lowkey i did not edit this one to the degree in which i should have i am so sorry]

#24: RIGHT BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS

"i'm not sure what this is between us, but i am sure that i don't want it to stop, whatever it is." -j.a. redmerski

What does one wear on a date where combat was the plan? It wasn’t a question you thought you’d ever be asking yourself, yet here you were. After staring at your options for another beat, you grabbed something you’d be able to move in. The more athletic clothing you owned weren’t really the cutest, but your goal with them was focused on utility. You could always save the cute outfit for your part of the date tonight. The idea of impressing Din by being competent on his date and then pretty on yours was appealing to you.

Din was dropping Grogu off with Peli until tomorrow morning. With every second he was gone, you found yourself more nervous. Being with Din was always so easy. That was part of the reason why you fell for him so fast. Having him as a cemented part of your day was natural. So, it made no sense that you would be nervous at all, but it seemed the butterflies in your belly didn’t give a damn about logic.

You wandered back out into the main room of the house and let your eyes glance over the decor you had already set up. The second Din had left the house you had tossed up the decorations. In preparation for tonight, you had food prepped in the fridge for dinner and you had hung string lights all over the kitchen and living room. A blanket was laid out on the floor with a few pillows just for comfort. It was a simple set up and initially it had excited you, but in the time it took for you to get dressed for your combat date your anxiety had grown. What if it were too simple? What if you didn’t know Din as well as you thought you did?

Before you could second guess yourself any further, you hurried out of the house. Din had told you to meet him at the tarmac which caught you off guard. You assumed this would be taking place at least on world. It made you curious as to what he had planned exactly. On your way to the tarmac, you returned the greetings to those who waved to you. A few even tried to stop you to ask about something medical and you had to politely point them toward the clinic where they’d find Aayla. Any other day and you’d linger to help, but you had a Mandalorian waiting for you.

You had only stepped a few feet onto the tarmac when a hand was suddenly in yours and dragging you through rows of parked ships. “Din?” You questioned the shiny, beskar covered man. “Hi to you too, honey.”

“I’ve had three different people try and stop me to ask about one problem or another.” Din grunted.

“Aw,” You chuckled, “I had people try to stop me for medical advice! Look at us. Staples of the community.”

“Today, they need to make do without two staples.”

It had been a surprise when Din pulled you onto the little starship, but you were completely caught off guard when said ship broke through the atmosphere of a small, green world. You gazed out through the glass at the greenery that formed the large jungle you now flew over. He said he was taking you to a nearby, abandoned and uninhabited moon.

“Din…” You breathed in shock. Maker, this no named moon was gorgeous.

“You said you missed seeing the color green.” Din replied simply. Your eyes snapped to him in awe. It had been a toss away comment made quite some time ago. Growing up on Naboo, you had raised with forests and bodies of water. Then you bounced from Coruscant to Tatooine to Nevarro where the ground was non-existent or dry. 

Din steered the ship toward a clearing in the jungle that sat on the edge of a cliff side where you had a view of the never ending trees. It was just shades of green and blue as far as your eyes could see. As soon as the ship was safely parked, you leapt out of your seat and rushed down the now lowering ramp. 

The air was cool and humid. You took in a deep breath and marveled at how the smell of earth and vegetation filled your lungs. Din’s heavy steps came up behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to give him a broad grin. You were beaming in the reflection of his visor.

“So, this is okay?” He asked with an almost nervous tinge to his voice.

“Okay?” You laughed. “Din, this is…” You shook your head and threw your arms around his neck. Din didn’t hesitate to wrap his own arms around your midsection and hold you close. “Thank you for this.”

“You may want to hold off on thanking me.” Din chuckled in your ear. “We haven’t even gotten to the rest of the date.”

You pulled back with a smirk and held a finger up at him. “I think you mean ‘courting session’.” Din let out a soft laugh before letting his hands fall from your side. You watched curiously as he began to unlatch portions of his armor. Your eyes widened and you glanced around outside the ship as if there would suddenly be a crowd where there hadn’t been one before. “What’re you doing?”

“We’re going to spar.” Din replied simply. “I want to make sure you can defend yourself.”

“And you need to strip down… why?”

Din huffed, “I’m not stripping down. I’m just removing my beskar.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You crossed your arms with a quirk of your eyebrow, “Who says you’re not the one who is gonna get hurt here?” Din laughed while pulling off his chest piece. The laugh was accurate. There was no way in hell you were going to even land a hit on him unless he wanted you to, but you feigned shock and disbelief. “Wow. How smug of you, Mandalorian.”

Din tilted his helmet at you in a ‘really?’ manner while pulling his cloak off. It left him in just his dark brown flight suit and you shouldn’t have found the plain outfit as attractive as you did. You continued to stand there and stare with a smile as he pulled off his gloves and kicked off his boots. Din set his hands on his hips, and you motioned toward his clothes. “Feel free to keep going. I won’t mind.”

“Alright, enough.” Din chuckled and set his hands on your shoulder. He turned you around and lightly pushed you out of the ship. You laughed under your breath and once you stood where he wanted in the field by the ship, he let his hands drag down to your hips. You expected him to spin you to face him, but instead he just took a step closer. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose at the feel of his chest against your back. In a softer voice, he leaned his head closer to the side of yours. “How much self-defense do you know?”

“Oh, you know, the basics.” You mumbled with a little shrug. If you had to quantify the self defense you knew it would probably add up to less than the basics. Suddenly, before you could even blink, Din’s right arm wrapped around your neck in a choke hold. Your eyes widened and your hands lifted to grip the crook of his elbow to try and pull him away. “Dank farrik!”

Din flexed his arm enough for you to feel it but it wasn’t cutting off your air flow. You felt nervous for a whole other reason. His helmet was pressed against the side of your face in this hold, and he was so close that you could hear the slight static hum of his modulator. “Escape me, ner kar’ta.” You swallowed nervously and tried uselessly to tug Din’s arm away from your throat. He chuckled and you tried to kick his legs but even when you did make contact he didn’t budge. “You can do better than that.”

You thrashed your shoulders with a grunt, but he locked his grip. Din lifted you up so your toes only barely brushed the ground and began to drag you backwards. You yelped in surprise and rapidly tapped against his arm⏤ the universal sign for giving in.

Din set you back down and loosened his arm to hold you by the arms, “You alright?”

“Yeah, I am.” You replied. “I just didn’t see myself getting out of that anytime soon.”

He chuckled and slipped his arm back where it had been. Din nudged you and your hands went back to the crook of his elbow. “Step one foot forward.” You stepped out with your left foot. “And use your other foot to slip to the side and turn around. You wanna⏤”

Without waiting for the rest of his sentence, you tried to slip to his right side, but the second you tried to turn you found his hold around your neck tighter as he pinned you to his side. Din let out a soft laugh, and you beat on his back a bit to try and pull out.

“You slipped out the wrong way.” Din said.

“I noticed, thanks.” You muttered.

Din loosened his hold enough that you could straighten back up. “Try the other way.” You did the same thing, but this time you spun toward the left. Now, you were facing Din’s chest with his arm resting on the back of your neck and shoulders. “Good. Now push me away.” With all your strength, you shoved against Din’s midsection and you stumbled apart. “Very good, ner kar’ta. Again.”

He made you do it a few more times with his arm tighter each pass, and it got easier and more smooth every time you did it. You did it one more time, grinning triumphantly when you pushed him away, but this time Din lunged to grab you. His leg hit the back of yours and you went sprawling back. A cry of surprise left your lips and you braced for the blow of hitting the ground. However, at last minute Din caught you and carefully laid you against the grass the two of you were practicing on.

You opened your mouth to complain, but found your voice missing. Din was straddling you with his knees pressed to the ground on either side of your hip. He held himself up so he was carrying his weight on his knees and not crushing you. The sight of Din towering over you like this made you ache with need. He was right there. You could drag your hands up his thick thighs and to his belt with such ease. If this was affecting him the same way it was you, he didn't show it.

The sound of overhead thunder from distant storm clouds made Din look up as he searched for the source. Seeing your opportunity, you sat up and threw yourself forward to push Din backwards. Caught off guard, he fell back and you threw yourself on top of him. “Ha! I⏤” You didn't register what Din did, his movements were a quick blur of color, and suddenly you were on your back again, “Hey!”

Din grabbed your wrists to pin on the ground by your head. Rather than straddling you, this time he was situated between your legs. Oh, Maker. This was worse in the best kind of way. Din tilted his head, “That was cheating.” 

“Whoops?” You gave him a sheepish smile. Din shifted so his weight was pinning your arms down rather than resting on the back of his calves. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You know, I thought combat meant I was gonna get to punch and kick you more.”

“Should I be worried about how eager you are to punch me?”

You laughed, “Really though.”

“The chances of you being in an actual fist fight is lower than you being placed in a hold.”

“I mean, I’m planning to avoid both of those options.”

“I like that plan, but it’ll help me sleep at night knowing you at least know how to free yourself.” Din replied with a low chuckle. His hands lifted off your wrists to place a light hold on your throat. Your chin tilted up, making room for his large hands, and your reflection in his visor showed you that you were not hiding how badly you wanted him. Din didn’t apply any more pressure than the light hold he already had on you, but he did lower his face closer to yours, “You think you can focus and get out of this hold before we get rained out?”

You squirmed under him, hips shifting against his, and you felt his body stiffen. A slow smile crossed your face as you moved your hips more deliberately this time. Din let out a soft grunt, and you chuckled, “Guess that depends. You think you can teach me how without getting distracted?”

“Wayii, ner kar’ta.” Din murmured. He lifted a hand off your neck to grab your right hand and set it on the wrist of the hand still pretending to choke you. “Hold here and…” Din set your other hand on his left shoulder. “With this hold, you’re gonna pivot out from under me and put me in an arm bar.”

“Um, sure.” You said skeptically.

Din nodded to your left leg, “Put that foot against my hip so you can lift your other. You need it across my shoulder blades.” You tried to do as he said and it forced your hips up from the ground in a position that felt unnatural. “Good, good. Now that foot on my hip? Lift it and throw it over my head so both your legs are resting on my same shoulder.” With a grunt you did just that and it left the arm you had been holding trapped between your arms. Naturally, the hand that was on his shoulder fell to hold his wrist and you pushed your hip back down to the ground and it forced Din onto his back as you straightened your body. “Good, that’s⏤ah!” He tapped the thigh laying on his throat. “Good.”

 You let go of him, but the moment you did he was on top of you once more. You cried out, startled, but Din had his hands at your throats. “Again. Faster.” 

He squeezed just enough to get you moving. You followed his instructions, trying to remember each step, and you successfully got him into another arm bar. You let go of his arm so you weren’t accidentally hurting him, but you kept your legs where they were. One rested over his neck, right under his helmet, and the other on his lower chest. His arm bent so he could rest his hand on your thigh and he gave it a playful squeeze. 

Din began to laugh and the sound was so relaxed, so boyish, that it brought a warm smile to your face. You sat up, leaning back on your hands, and stared down at him. His entire body was relaxed as he lazily dragged his hand back and forth on your thigh.

“This position can’t possibly be comfortable.” You teased.

Din’s helmet turned to look back at you. “Ner kar’ta, I could spend the rest of my life right here.” He squeezed your thigh again and chuckled. “Right between your thighs.” Your face grew warm at his words and Din rubbed your leg. “You’re doing so good. Making me proud.”

You bit down on your bottom lip and watched as a drop of water plinked against Din’s helmet. Then there was a second, then a third, and then you and Din were in a downpour. You pulled your legs off him and the two of you scrambled off the ground and back to the cover of the ship. 

“Just… Just give it a minute or two.” Din stood at the edge of the cover so he could peer up at the now dark sky. “It’ll pass.” The clouds had rolled in quick and sudden, but they lingered. A full ten minutes passed and Din stood in his frustrated dad pose at the end of the ramp. You wandered down to stand beside him. He sighed, “I'm so sorry. If I had known it was going to rain I would’ve taken us somewhere else.”

“Din, this place is perfect.”

“It’s storming.”

“Yeah, but,” You set your hand on his arm, “We’re together.” Din turned his head to glance at you. “That’s all that matters.” The tension in his shoulders seemed to melt. You held your hand out to feel the rain against your skin. A thought occurred to you. “When’s the last time you felt the rain on your face?”

Din shrugged, “I fell into the Living Waters.”

“That’s called drowning,” You shook your head, “And it doesn’t count.”

“I took a shower last night.”

“Still not the same.”

He shrugged in response.

You squeezed his arm, “Well, this moon is uninhabited according to you. I can sit in the ship with the ramp up, and give you a second.” He tilted his head in what you assumed was confusion. “Everyone deserves to feel the rain on their face. Just to⏤ to feel alive, and we’re not getting any rain storms in Nevarro anytime soon.”

Din nodded once. You turned to walk back into the ship, but his hand slipped into yours. He squeezed your hand and pulled you out into the rain. You flinched at the first few drops, the cold water startling even knowing it was coming, and on instinct you lifted your head up so the rain splattered across your face. Din’s hand left yours but it was quick to find your skin once more. He cupped your jawline and you tore your gaze from the sky to his visor. His thumb dragged against your cheekbone.

“Close your eyes.” Din whispered.

Without hesitation, you let your eyes fall shut. Din’s hand fell away from your face. You heard the hiss of his helmet followed by the soft thud of heavy beskar landing on soft grass. More than anything in the worlds, you wished you could watch him experience this. Din let out a quiet sigh, close to a soft moan, and your lips twitched up into a smile. A pair of hands cupped your face and your own hands rose to rest on top of his. Din was close⏤ his body radiated heat. The tip of his thumb traced your bottom lip. 

“Gar're bid mesh'la.” Din murmured and he was close enough that you felt his warm breath fan across your mouth. “So beautiful, ner kar’ta.” Warm lips slotted against yours and you breathed Din in. As always, Din kissed you with every part of who he was⏤ every single time was its own unique experience. His hands roamed down your body, never leaving contact, until they found your hips. Din’s lips broke from yours but continued to brush against yours as he sucked in a breath, “I… You’re so important to me.” The hands on your hips slipped up and under your shirt. His touch hot against your cold, damp skin. “Everything, ner kar’ta.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull his lips back against yours. The kiss was bruising. A desperate tangle of teeth and tongue in a attempt to get closer⏤ as if he wasn’t already pinning the two of you chest to chest with his strong arms. The kiss began to simmer in desperation, but the passion remained. Even when it seemed slow as you caught your breath, he continued to lightly press his lips against yours in soft, chaste kisses. As if he couldn’t stand being apart. 

“Din…” You murmured softly. Thunder rumbled overhead. The power of the sound competed with the pounding of your heart. Din nipped at your lower lip before dragging the tip of his tongue against the spot. You let out a soft sigh, and he pulled your lower lips between his own. His hands had slipped out of your shirt so they could instead cup your face and tilt your face at the ideal angle to allow him to continue his onslaught. He dragged his lips across your cheek until they pressed against the skin right under your ear. An involuntary shiver rocketed down your spine and you trembled enough that Din must have felt it.

“I need to get you out of the rain before you catch a cold.” Din mumbled against your skin.

You sighed and when he tried to pull back you trapped him by wrapping your arms around his torso, “That’s an old wives’ tale. Being in the rain doesn’t make you sick.”

“Fine, doc. I need to get you out of the rain before we get struck by lightning.”

“If you want I can make up some statistics about lightning strikes.”

Din chuckled, his chest rumbling with the sound, and you felt him kneel down. You stayed in place until the cool metal of his helmet pressed against your forehead. At the reassuring touch, you let your eyes flutter open. In his visor’s reflection, you saw what a mess you were. Soaked to the bone with swollen lips. You groaned, “Maker, I look like a drowned porg.”

“A very cute, drowned porg.”

You shoved at his chest with a laugh and Din chuckled and began to drag you back toward the ship. The two of you left puddles in the ship and you helped Din get his armor back on. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable with how wet his flight suit was, but he’d be parking in a populated area of Nevarro and couldn’t go without it. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.” Din said as you sat down in the co-pilot seat.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you dare apologize for the best first ‘courting session’ ever.”

Din let out a soft laugh and brought the ship up into the air. His hand reached over to rest on your thigh⏤ fingers curling into your skin as his thumb rubbed back and forth. You leaned back in your seat and despite the gorgeous scenery right outside the window, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his form.

There was never a lull in the conversation with Din. Talking to him always came naturally. It made you silly for ever being nervous about your portion of the date in the first place. After getting back to Nevarro, the two of you had gone back home and when Din saw the decor you babbled through an anxious explanation of your plans. He had been delighted at the sound of it. It took no time for the two of you to clean up after the courting session episode. Din traded his armor for a t-shirt and sweatpants, and you had tosses aside the wet work out clothes to put on a simple dress that made you feel cute with buttons down the torso.

Din hovered over you while you made food and helped despite you telling him he didn’t need to. Then, the two of you just enjoyed one another’s company. Back to back, eating dinner, and basking in the glow of the string lights you had hung up.

“This really is so incredible. Thank you.” Din said.

You set aside your bowl with a chuckle, “You don’t have to thank me for that, Din.”

“No, I do. I know this isn’t…” Din paused and there was a tension in his voice you couldn’t quite place. He sighed, “This isn’t typical. I’m sorry I can’t take you to a restaurant in town and sit across from you for a normal meal.”

“Din, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But⏤”

“I don’t care about any of that.” You shook your head. “I’d have every single meal, for the rest of my life, hidden away or in private as long as it meant I got to have them with you. That’s all that matters.”

You felt him begin to turn and immediately shut your eyes with a mumble that he was safe. Din’s fingers found the side of your face and you allowed your body to follow his movements as he pulled you to face him. His lips were on yours again with no preamble or hesitation. It only lasted a brief moment, pure and chaste, before he separated to lean his forehead against yours.

“You’re too good to me.” Din’s voice sounded hoarse as his hand traced the side of your face. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve to be cared about⏤ you deserve to be…” The word ‘loved’ sat on the ip of your tongue, and you only barely caught it in your mouth before it tumbled out. You were confident of how you felt, and you were highly suspicious that Din was on the same page as you, but it was still terrifying to consider saying it out loud. “You deserve this and more, honey.”

“Have I told you how much I enjoy hearing you call me honey?” Din leaned back in and began to pepper kisses across your lower face.

“It’s come up a time or two.” You teased in response. He ghosted up your jawline, his breath hot on your skin, until they wrapped around your earlobe⏤ teeth nipping at it lightly. You couldn’t hold back a soft moan. “Maker, Din.” You felt his chuckle as he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. Din carefully tilted your chin up and to the side so he could finish his line of kiss down your neck. “Keep this up and I’m… I’m not gonna want to get up, and I have dessert in the fridge for us.”

Din shook his head and dragged his nose up against the column of your neck to find your ear once more, “I have dessert right here, ner kar’ta.” His words, in that deep, honeyed voice, sent shivers down your spine. Want pooled in your belly as you melted into his hands. “Do you trust me?”

“Always.” You murmured. Din pulled away from you and you groaned at the loss. “Wait, no,” Din laughed at your whine and the sound was distant, “Come back.”

“Be patient!”

You heard his approach and felt him as he settled in front of you again. Din was wrapping something around your eyes and tied it behind your head. “That feel, alright?” You nodded in response and adjusted the blindfold to sit comfortably on your face. “Just want you to relax and not worry about accidentally opening your eyes or not. This okay?”

“Only if you start touching me again.” You grinned and tilted your chin up a hair. 

“Oh, mesh’la,” Din was quick to cup your face once more and he pushed you back to settle on the blanket softly, “I’m more than happy to.” You had never been happier in your choice of clothing than now with Din unbuttoning the front of your dress. One large hand cupped your breast while the other stayed wrapped around the back of your neck. Din let out a breathless whisper of Mando’a before adding in Basic, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You shook your head, “I swear to the Maker if you stop I’ll kick your ass.” Din chuckled and shifted so he could rest between your thighs. You accommodated him by letting your legs fall open to rest on either side of his hips. “I know how to do that now since you taught me.”

“Teaching you how to get out of two holds is a little different from kicking ass.” Din replied amused. His hand left your breast and you felt the tips of his fingers brush against the scar along your collarbone. You stiffened slightly⏤ more out of self consciousness rather than discomfort or fear. Din leaned down until his lips pressed against the skin there. “Do you know how beautiful you are, ner kar’ta? Absolutely gorgeous.” You buried your hand in his soft hair, letting out a sigh, and Din kissed your scar twice more before letting his lips taste the skin of your chest. “Breathtaking.”

His mouth found the curve of upper breast. Din was careful as he pulled your bra down and when the cold air met your now bare nipples you gasped. More breathless Mando’a filled the air and only ended when Din’s lips wrapped around your right nipple as his hand held the underside of your other so his thumb could trace lazy circles around that nipple. Din’s tongue circled your sensitive skin and you groaned⏤ hand tightening in his hair. 

The Mandalorian was new to using his mouth, but just like with kissing he was quick to pick it up and passionate about exploring with his tongue. All of his movements were focused and completed with the discipline of a bounty hunter. Even in a situation that was new to him, he used his body with confidence by dedicating to the action. Din’s mouth spent ample time tasting the skin of both your breasts, sucking and licking, and your entire being felt like it was on fire. Every inch of you craved his touch, you were drunk on him and were left a squirming mess under his strong hands. Pinned to the ground under his broad body and blind to everything but the sound, feel, and smell of him. 

“Maker.” You gasped and tugged on his hair. “You’re killing me, honey. It’s…” He let his teeth lightly graze your overly sensitive nipple and your back arched in an attempt to follow his mouth as he pulled up. “Fuck. It’s so much. Too much.”

Din squeezed the breast his mouth wasn’t on and then crawled up just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips, “Sorry.” He hummed and you could hear the smile he was wearing. “Just can’t help myself.” Suddenly, you felt Din’s hand brush against the outside of your leg. It trailed back and forth from your knee to where the edge of your dress laid. You were already an absolute mess but having his warm touch against your thigh was making the need for him a hundred times worse. “Can I taste you, ner mesh’la kar’ta?”

You sucked in a sharp breath nervously. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip briefly. It had been a little while since you had anyone go down on you, and with the way you felt about Din you wanted things to be perfect. The thought of Din not enjoying himself or just feeling obligated haunted your mind and the anxiety dulled the pleasure. “You know you don’t have to do that, right? It’s not⏤”

“Have to?” Din’s fingers squeezed into the meat of your thigh and your hips involuntarily rolled up marginally to find a source of friction to ease the ache in your core. “There is literally nothing I could want more. I cannot even begin to describe how often I’ve thought of this moment right here.” You gave a small, weak nod. He squeezed your thigh once more. “Wanna hear you say it, ner kar’ta.”

“Yes, Din. Want that⏤ want you now.” Your desire beat out any anxiety you may have felt. 

Din crawled down until he could press a kiss to the inside of your knee. His strong arm wrapped around your thigh, settling on his left shoulder, and you found comfort in that hold. You let out a relaxed breath. Din was safe. There was no reason to feel any anxiety in the arms of this man. With that, the anxiety began to ebb away and with every kiss Din laid on the inside of your thigh gradually traveling up the ache worsened.

The edge of your dress was pushed up with his left hand and it splayed across your abdomen. “This is my first time doing this with my mouth, mesh’la. Tell me if I’m hurting you.” Goosebumps formed across your skin at the cool air that now washed over you, but the weight of his hand seemed to burn straight through you. Din’s mouth pressed against your clothed heat. He kissed through your sinfully soaked underwear. 

“Din,” You gasped, your hand refinding his hair, “Fuck. Din.”

His right hand slipped under the side of your underwear to tug them down your thigh. Din kept your right leg on his left shoulder, unmoving, and he hummed, “Knee to your chest, mesh’la.” You did as he asked and he used the movement to slip your left leg out of your underwear. The second you were uncovered, Din groaned, “Good girl.”

He buried his face into your wet folds in desperation. What Din lacked in precision he made up for with eagerness. He mumbled words of Mando’a straight into your pussy between licking long stripes through your lips. Din worked in broad strokes of his tongue, and every few seconds his nose would find your clit. It’d either brush too lightly for you to fully enjoy or press firmly against it and send jolting strikes of pleasure straight up your spine. 

“Din, Din.” You moaned and he pressed in deeper, his tongue circling your hole. He hadn’t come up for air in a bit and you wondered how he managed to keep this up. Regardless, it was driving you wild. “Baby, please.” Din lifted his head and the sound of him panting was unbelievably attractive to you. “Shit, Din.”

“You alright?”

“Yes. Maker, yes, but…” You groaned. “I know you’re probably not meaning to do this, but you’re teasing me and it’s got me right on the edge.” Din shifted, you heard him chuckle, and before you could try to explain to him what you meant specifically when it came to his mouth, his thumb dragged through your folds up and straight to your clit. He circled it with insane precision and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as the arousal pooling in your lower belly grew and the ache almost sent you over the edge. “Maker! Din!”

Din pulled his thumb away and you were breathless. He placed a chaste kiss to your thigh where he could reach, “I’m not that unfamiliar with it, ner kar’ta. I told you I've used my hands.”

“Gotcha. So you were teasing me on purpose?” You scoffed and Din chuckled. You tugged on his hair and his breathy laugh grew louder. You grinned and shook your head. “You ass.”

“How about I make it up to you?” Din’s lips were back on you and this time he wasn’t just broadly tasting you. His precision had turned deadly and it was devastating how fast he drove you right back to that edge. “Taste so fucking sweet, mesh’la.” His tongue circled your clit before he began to apply enough suction that stars filled your vision. Your body began to tense as you spiraled into your quickly approaching orgasm. Din hummed and spoke against your clit, teeth and tongue brushing against it as the vibrations of his words buzzed against you, “Gonna come, ner kar’ta? Fall apart for me. Let me devour you.”

His lips wrapped around your clit again and the onslaught of his mouth had your orgasm washing over you. You let out a loud cry, his name garbled on your tongue, and as you came down from your high it felt like you were falling into a soft cloud. It was only then that you realized Din hadn’t stopped for a second. The slurping sound of him devouring you was downright filthy and you moaned again.

“Just like I said before, ner kar’ta.” Din dragged his wet lips up to kiss your abdomen in any random spot he could reach. “Could spend eternity between these gorgeous legs.”

You sat up on one elbow and blindly reached out to grab the collar of his shirt. “My turn, honey.” You gave his shirt a few tugs. “Want to taste you too.”

“Who said I was done here?” Din teased. He crawled up your body, still between your legs, and his hips pressed against yours firmly. You felt his hard cock straining against his sweatpants and he let it grind against your messy pussy. You reached down for the waistband of his sweatpants and Din’s hand rested by your neck to hold himself up while his other caressed the column of your neck and along your jaw. “I’m not done eating dessert.”

Your lips curled into a broad smile as you recognized the similar position you were in to what had been going on earlier today. Quickly, your right hand grabbed his left, the one holding him up, and before you could second guess yourself you let your legs kick up just like in the courting session until you were able to push him off you into an arm bar. This was the exact position he had been in last time, but this time you were unable to see him. Still, you felt your legs across his chest as you held his arm between your thighs. 

For a beat it was silent, and you were worried you had upset him in some way, but then he began to laugh. Without the modulator of his helmet, the sound was clear and downright musical. You’d trade your soul if it meant getting to see the way his face looked right now. You wanted to see his smile, wanted to see the lines that formed on his face when he laughed like this.

“Maker, you’re so perfect, ner kar’ta.” Din breathed as his free hand came up to caress your legs. “I can’t begin to… You’re… I…” He let out one more laugh. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”

“What does that mean?” You didn’t recognize those words.

“I’ll tell you one day. I promise.”

You chuckled, “Bold of you to deny someone who has you in an arm bar right now, honey.”

The hand you were holding between your legs suddenly tightened around your wrist and he pulled you toward him while pushing your legs off of him. With a yelp of surprise, he had you flipped so your arms and head were laying on his chest while your legs were sprawled out behind you. Din grasped the side of your face to pull you to his lips. His hand raked through your hair lovingly, and you sighed against his kiss. Din swallowed the sound of your content.

You felt so warm and comfortable against Din, and as if you hadn’t been aware of it before, it was startling how much you loved Din Djarin. 

mando'a translations:

ner kar'ta: my heart Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum: I will know you forever Wayii: Good grief Gar're bid mesh'la: You're so beautiful mesh'la: beautiful

taglist (closed):

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition

[krumpkin]

A good quote I think 🤔

[flamingskull28]

OC havers of Splatoon I have a question

For me it varies in a fresh start at first 3 is fairly better than 4 but over time and after many training sessions they become pretty evenly matched with 4 being able to beat 3 fairly consistently

In Agent 4's Guide to the deep sea Metro, after her time in the Metro 4 is far more strong, agile and skilled while 3 can last in a fight with her for a short while after a bit 4 will break through the defenses with ease even before the Metro she was fairly close to 3's skill.

[scribbling-punk]

A Fresh Start - Chapter 6.

Kara doesn’t know how to handle the coldness within Lena’s gaze. It’s not that she hasn’t seen it before, Hell, it’s even been aimed at Supergirl more times than Kara cares to admit, but it’s the first time the steely gaze has been trained on her as Kara. 

It’s enough to break her already cracked heart in half, but, at this point, she has no idea what to say.

She’s apologized so many times that the words now feel meaningless when they fall from her lips, but it’s clear that Lena has no interest in hearing apologies. Forgiveness doesn’t even seem to be in her former best friend’s vocabulary anymore, and while Kara hates that she’s apparently lost her for good, there is a part of her that sadly understands why Lena has firmly pushed her away.

Kara’s secret is hers to share, yes, and nobody has a right to it, but she had pretended to be an open book to Lena. She had gained her trust and gone out of her way to be Lena’s friend even after Lena had made it clear that she had no more time for secrets and lies after a childhood full of them.

That should have been the moment that she took a step backwards and been more careful about the growing bond between them, but by that point, removing herself from Lena’s life had felt impossible.

So, yes, Kara had taken the risk and it has not paid off, but she’d hoped her intentions meant something.

“Are you going to say anything?” Lena’s sharp tone cuts through Kara’s warring thoughts and if she didn’t know any better, Kara would swear that she’d heard a low growl, but it’s just her mind playing tricks on her, right? After all, only an Alp—

Kara hesitates.

There’s something else, too. 

Something different about Lena, something that would perhaps be creepy to say out loud.

Lena is different.

She smells different.

It’s not offputting per se, but it’s not the sweet perfume that Kara would often smell on her clothes several hours after their hug goodbye.

Read chapter 6 of A Fresh Start early on Patreon.

The first 2 chapters are now available on AO3.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Medcember 2024 Day 5.

A Fresh Start

Summary: Modern AU, Zombie Apocalypse AU. Viggo is arrogant and smug, he has finally defeated Hiccup and he's his. All that stands between him and his prize is a week-long quarantine. Or so, he thinks.

Warnings: Implied suicide, implied Major Character Death, Zombie plague, Implied character death

Rating: Mature

Dead Dove: Yes

Words: 1 034

Prompt: Quarantine

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Viggo

Whumpee: Hiccup, Viggo

Whumper: Hiccup

Pairing: /

Author’s Notes: Accidentally invented another Zombie plague that I really want to explore more extensively in a different fic.

Unedited, because I'm too tired.

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

It is Viggo himself who puts Hiccup away in this jail cell. With an air of arrogance and smug with victory, he drags him inside and locks the door behind him. After weeks completely on his own, he finally came to him, just as Viggo thought he would. Because a home with his enemy is still better than no home at all.

"I hope you'll excuse your quarters, they are only temporary, of course. We have to make sure you're healthy before we let you join us," Viggo tells him in his usual suave voice. Though it's soaked in that arrogance that Hiccup despises.

Turning around to face him, Hiccup stares at him with a dead look in his eyes. He's covered in grime and dirt, scrapes and bruises. There's blood on him like he's been fighting every day for weeks. But then, suddenly falling without the entire group he used to lead and depend on can do that to a person. Especially if dragons were a part of that group.

"I told you, I didn't get bitten," Hiccup claims as he steps forward to grab hold of the bars, his tone hard. He just came here to join Viggo's stupid band of bastards and savages, why does he have to make it hard?

"Oh, I know, this is simply… assurance," Viggo puts a dramatic pause there. He takes great joy out of seeing the defeat in his young adversary. It does his soul good to see him broken.

Now to rebuild him in exactly the way he wants him to be. Now that will be fun.

"Don't worry, my Dear, it's only for a week. The men will be reassured and then you can begin your new life with us. After all your time spend alone out there, I'm sure a mere seven days will be a breeze," as he tells him, Hiccup's eyes narrow and he swears there's still a hint of defiance there. As expected of the young man, but he'll fix that soon enough.

"Now sit and don't cause any trouble," he orders him with delight. Still scowling, Hiccup does as he's told and takes a seat on that hard bed inside his cell.

"Good boy."

Viggo leaves him after reassuring him that it will only be a mere seven days of captivity before he'll be let out again and Hiccup glares daggers into his back.

Sighing, he hunches forward to lean with his elbows on his knees, except that makes him hiss and that is not a good idea. He came this far, the last thing he should do is draw attention to something he doesn't want attention drawn to.

It wasn't one of the Hunters who checked him for bites, it was Viggo himself and it had been a close call then, too. He made him strip half of him, made him go topless and even remove his binder "just to be sure." Made him take off his shoes and socks and even his prosthetic leg. But his arms, his legs, his upper body were all clear. Viggo put his hands on him and felt around. Hiccup is covered in blood and filth and injuries, after all.

Until it came time to remove his jeans shorts.

"No!" He had screamed, grasping his belt tightly. "There are people watching!"

And it had been believable enough of a lie that Viggo had simply barely hidden his smirk, his eyes promising the much younger man, in his late teens, that this is a gift he'll be opening later.

Unfortunately for him, it's Hiccup who will be doing the opening.

Sitting upright and trying desperately to keep his noises of pain to himself, he looks down and spots the tiny red blotch on the inside of his right thigh. Viggo really should've questioned just why his jeans- when Hiccup has only ever worn non-denim pants that cover every inch of his legs- suddenly ends just above his knees and is considerably cleaner than the rest of him.

But Hiccup knows when a prideful man is much too blinded by his own victory to notice the obvious.

That he's been bitten in the one place he hoped they wouldn't check. On purpose.

It took some planning. Safely capturing one of the undead to then get bitten by it before letting it go in the hopes that it would get at least one Hunter. The hours spend afterwards treating his wound when the Undead's Bite notoriously burns and burns and burns. It had to be cleaned, stitched and wrapped up in a way so that blood wouldn't immediately seep through clean clothes even if he tore stitches and make his entire plan fall through. The clean jeans he had to find before the walking dead. Because ironically, he had to keep his bite clean.

And then came the days of wandering back to Viggo's base, the days of pretending like the heat of the very sun wasn't radiating from his wound. Luckily, prior experience with pain helped with that fact. And luckily, his unbathed appearance helped cover up the fact that he's sick. He downed plenty of fever-killing medicine each day. Arguably doing his body a disservice, but it only needed to last him until tonight.

He was going to die anyway. Just like Toothless, Astrid, Stormfly, Fishlegs, Meatlug, Snotlout, Hookfang, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, Barf and Belch, Heather, Windshear, Dagur, Shattermaster.

And all of this death for what? Because Viggo wanted him and Hiccup had said "no."

Well, he gets to have him now and Hiccup hopes he'll be everything Viggo has ever wanted.

Leaning down further, careful not to make any noises of pain, Hiccup pulls back the duct tape on his prosthetic leg. It made it look like there is some kind of huge crack in the plastic that he tried to fix, but it was no accident. This is place is always were he keeps his knife.

Sitting upright again and flipping it open, he points it towards his jugular and braces himself. For this next part, he really can't make any noises. And when his dead brain takes over, he hopes it'll be just as smart as he once was.

[acreaturebythewater]

gonna clear out my closet today and i need to be ruthless but i'm so prone to nostalgia this is gonna be hell on earth

[ambrosemorgan333]

Beating Perfectionism

I’m a recovering perfectionist. What this means is that I’m an overthinker. I overthink and do not normally take action. Writing this is me taking action in one way or another.

Perfectionism is in my dna. This is a trait that may be common with: first borns, oldest daughters, overachievers, and former gifted kids. I check all of those boxes. Of course many people who do not fit in those categories can struggle with perfectionism too.

Procrastination and perfectionism go hand in hand. The idea of something being perfect doesn’t exist and the fear of not reaching it can prevent one from acting at all. The possibility of an outcome not being perfect shouldn’t prevent one from acting, but it often does. A way to prevent this is just starting.

This is a way of thinking. I’m not entirely past this, but I’m working on it. This is a start.

[delicatedemolition]

i deactivated my old tumblr that i had for likeeeee 10 years, and someone else has already taken the username. it reminds me of leaving a childhood home and allowing someone else to move in— it’s bittersweet to pass it onto to a stranger, but i hope they enjoy it. <3

[starwarsmum]

A Fresh Start chapter 2: A Birthday and a Question

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61344961/chapters/165678457

“Titus, come here,” Damian said imperiously, smirking when Louis gave a delighted squeal as the great Dane obeyed. The park they had gone to was fairly empty, the mid afternoon sun shining weakly through a layer of smog. “Would you like to pet him, Louis?”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, the child launched himself at the dog, tiny arms trying to reach around to hug him. Damian stifled a snort and turned to catch Marinette's eye, only to frown because she was staring into the distance.

“Is everything alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, it's fine! Sorry, I have to call Adrien tomorrow for Louis’ birthday and I'm not looking forward to it,” she admitted, picking at her fingernails. Damian hesitated for only a moment before taking hold of one of her hands. 

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he murmured, running his thumb over the back of her hand. “You owe me no explanation, we have only been seeing each other for a little over a week. I'm sure it has been hard on both you and Louis to move so far from his father. I cannot imagine how much it must be impacting your life.”

“Not as much as you'd think, given we only talked to him every couple of weeks or so by video call. And only when he's not busy with his new life,” she muttered under her breath, but Damian was sitting closely enough to catch it. He didn't hesitate at all before pulling her into a hug.

“He really was a fool to let you go,” he said softly, feeling her hug him back tightly. “But I'm glad you weren't still with him when we met.”

“Me too,” she said and leaned back, smiling brightly. Damian thought his heart might stop at just how lovely she looked like that. Louis continued to babble at Titus and Damian almost held his breath as he tipped his head towards hers.

They both jumped back when his phone blared to life. Louis startled as well, looking up at the pair with wide blue eyes. Damian swallowed a curse as he saw an alert for an ongoing rogue attack at a local jewellery store.

“I'm sorry, Marinette, I need to go.”

_ _ _

“Well happy birthday, kiddo,” Adrien said cheerfully through the laptop. Louis had been interested for all of three minutes when his father had come onto the screen but was bored now. Then he ran away to play with the new toys that had arrived for him that morning, shrieking as he tackled a giant stuffed bear.

“Thanks for doing a call today, Adrien,” Marinette said lightly, tensing when he frowned at her.

“Of course I called, it's his birthday, Mari,” Adrien admonished. Reminding herself that she only had to stay on the phone for a few minutes longer, she forced her smile to stay on her face. “I would have been there but I have a meeting with the Justice League early tomorrow morning. Can you believe it's finally happening?”

“I'm glad you're getting what you wanted, Adrien. But we still need to talk about the guy I'm seeing, you haven't really responded to any of my messages about it.”

“I've been busy! Besides, if you say he's a good guy you're probably right. You've always had a good radar for that sort of thing,” Adrien said distractedly, albeit with a winsome smile. “But anyway, Elaine said it was time to introduce me to the League, which is an understatement! I'm going to get to meet the big three, even, and then I'll finally be doing as much good as possible. And maybe I'll be able to swing a meeting for Louis as well.”

“Great,” Marinette said flatly, hardly listening as he droned on about the work he'd been doing with Elaine and other metahumans operating in London. She was given a reprieve when his phone lit up with an alert and he ended the call abruptly.

“Maman, play!” Louis demanded, and Marinette felt her scowl melt away. She adored her son, wouldn't trade him for anything in the world and hated that Adrien had given him up without a second thought. How did he not see that he was abandoning his son as much as Gabriel had abandoned him?

Putting the thoughts away, she sent Damian a message to let him know that she was heading back to the same park they had been at the day before if he wanted to join them. She was pleasantly surprised when he showed up only half an hour after she did, although without Titus this time. 

“Good morning,” he said with a smile, kissing her cheek as he approached them in the children's park. “You look radiant, as usual.”

“Damian, you can't just say things like that!” Marinette squeaked at him, hands slapping to her cheeks. He rumbled a laugh before waving at Louis who was shooting down a slide and shrieking. “Thanks for meeting with us, I don't know many people in Gotham yet. Not that I wouldn't want to see you if I did!”

“I'm honoured to be invited to celebrate Louis’ birthday,” he replied, graciously ignoring her fumble. He took her hand in his own and she almost swooned at the callouses that scraped against her own. “Did your video call go well?”

“It lasted for a grand total of ten minutes, at least five of which was spent talking about what he's been doing in London,” Marinette said softly, smiling at Louis when he waved as he went down the slide again. “Apparently you pass his extremely rigorous vetting process: my gut instinct.”

“It is commendable that he trusts you to such an extent,” Damian said at last. Marinette snorted humourlessly and rubbed her free hand over her face.

“I shouldn't be surprised, he’s shockingly naive sometimes. I guess I just thought he would be more protective of his only child,” she whispered guiltily. “I think you're a wonderful guy, and I have no concerns about your character, but I've known you for less than a week. Adrien should be worried and wanting to meet you at least. If he had a new girlfriend around Louis I would be demanding a background check and sitting in on her first few visitations with him.”

“Is this your way of asking to do a background check on me?” Damian asked, humour lacing his tone. She giggled in spite of herself, squeezing his hand gently. “I would not be offended if you did, I'm only concerned that you would find articles about my less than friendly public behaviour. I try to keep such things private at least until I take a woman out for dinner.”

“Is this your way of asking me to dinner?” Marinette asked cheekily, face reddening when he pursed his lips instead of laughing.

“Would that be inappropriate of me? I understand if you would not like to, I imagine finding a sitter in a city you have been living in for only a month would be difficult.”

“My aunt and uncle would absolutely babysit if I asked,” Marinette said with a squeak, trying to control her blush. She was a twenty-five year old woman with a child for goodness sake, she shouldn't be getting flustered by a guy - who had already been flirting with her and going on coffee dates! - asking her out for dinner.

“Then I suppose the only thing remaining is to set a day that works for us all,” Damian said with a pleased smile on his face. “Clearly tonight would not be suitable, and even if it weren’t Louis' birthday I am unfortunately busy. But I’m available tomorrow night?”

“I'll message Uncle J and let you know!”

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A FRESH START [23]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: none really, fluff?

Word Count: 4,201

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: i'm so sorry this is late and i'm so sorry it's short. this will technically be considered this week's update, but i didn't want to wait until it truly became 06/01 because i know y'all have been waiting for this so you get it a few hours early😭]

#23: IT'S A SURPRISE

.

"dating isn't about dating anymore. you are picking your potential apocalypse partner. choose wisely folks." -unknown

.

“A date?” You asked in surprise.

Din nodded once, his tone nonchalant, “Yes.” Honestly, you weren’t sure why you were surprised. The two of you were courting. That’s what a courting couple did, right? Assuming that a courting couple was the exact equivalent of dating. If Din saw your mild confusion, he made no comment on it. He was leaning against the kitchen counter as you packed Grogu a lunch for his day. “Well, the more accurate translation from Mando’a is ‘courting session’, but date sounds better.”

You chuckled. “It does.” You zipped up Grogu’s lunch bag and bit your lower lip in a nervous excitement before shrugging once. “What happens during a Mandalorian ‘courting session’? An impromptu bounty hunting mission? Live combat?” The words were said with a teasing tone, but Din not reply and your eyes widened. “Din, do Mandalorians hunt quarries for their date nights?”

“No.” He answered quickly. “And I would never take you on a hunt. Maker, I’d be sick with worry.” He mumbled the last bit with a shake of his head. Finally, he shrugged. “The combat part isn’t so far off though.” You raised an eyebrow in question. “My people weren’t able to sit around a table to share food or bond over a meal. We shared stories and time through training so… courting and training tended to go hand in hand.”

It made a weird amount of sense to you. How much of your life was spent sitting at a table with family and friends sharing lives or talking over breakfast, lunch, or dinner? So much of a person’s culture and history was orally passed down through mealtimes and before this moment you never gave it a second thought. It never occurred to you how a family that couldn’t reveal their faces would bond and share their lives with one another. Mandalorians choosing combat as their bonding activity of choice was more than fitting.

“Alright.” You nodded. Din seemed to release a breath of relief and you found it endearing and adorable that he was nervous about asking you this. As if you wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance to spend more time with him. “But, if I go on a Mandalorian date you have to go on a not Mandalorian date.”

“A not Mandalorian date?” Din chuckled. “What happens during one of those?”

“It’s a surprise.” You replied simply. It was a ploy to buy yourself some more time to think of something great. It had been ages since you last went on a date, and you had never been on a date with a Mandalorian let alone a Mandalorian you loved. This needed to be perfect. “What kind of combat should I expect?”

“It’s a surprise.” Din echoed your sentiment. You chuckled and when he reached out to lightly grasp your wrist and pull you around the kitchen island, you let him. His hands settled on your hips as he tugged you into his chest⏤ you let your own hands wrap around the back of his neck in response. The motions were so fluid and natural to you. Second nature. Din lightly tapped his helmet against your forehead. “You gonna close your eyes or not, ner kar’ta?”

“Depends.” You teased.

“Yeah? On what?”

“You gonna fix the bathroom door or not?” You replied. Din chuckled sheepishly. The bathroom's doorway had been covered with a simple sheet since being broken down last week. It was simply a running joke on how long it’d take to get it replaced. You didn’t really care all that much. Especially since you knew Din had been crazy busy with getting the Mandalorians settled in Nevarro⏤ and simply restoring Nevarro as well. 

Din shook his head. “I’m working on it.”

“Don’t worry. I was just gonna have Paz over to fix it for us⏤”

Din turned your back to the island counter and he pushed you so he could pin your hips against the cabinets there. He leaned in, his voice low enough to be a growl, “Close your eyes.” Unable to resist, you let your eyes fall closed while a smirk continued to play on your lips. Only seconds after they had shut did you feel Din move abruptly and suddenly his lips were pressed against yours in a crushing kiss. With one hand cupping the side of your face, Din molded his lips against yours forcing them to part so he could let his tongue explore your mouth. Maker, he was getting too good at this. The frantic and desperate kiss had a possessive edge to it that you found yourself craving. Din nipped at your lower lip suddenly and you sucked in a sharp breath in response. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he let his lips trail along your jaw down to your neck where he began to leave open mouth kisses.

“Din…” You gasped, breathless, as his teeth grazed your skin. The feel of his hot tongue gliding over where his teeth had grazed you made your body tremble. You buried a hand into Din’s soft hair. The only image you had of his pretty, brown hair was that one morning so long ago where you had seen him from behind. Just a flash. A vague memory of slightly curled locks. You raked your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly, and Din groaned against your neck. You wanted to see his hair so badly, but for now you’d settle for feeling it between your fingers.

“We… We gotta go to work.” You mumbled.

Din pulled your scrubs collar to the side so he could pepper kisses along your collarbone. “We’ll call in sick.”

“The marshal and doctor of Nevarro?” You chuckled. “Playing hooky?”

“They’ll survive one day without us.” Din replied.

“Grogu is right down the hall. Do you really want him to walk in and see this?”

Din pressed his lips softly to the space right underneath your ear and you let out a shuddered breath, “We’re his parents.” You could feel his breath against your skin. “We’re supposed to scar him for life, I think.”

You tugged on his hair lightly to pull his lips up to yours so you could capture him in a chaste kiss. There was something about the way Din would so casually refer to you as Grogu’s official caretaker that sent chills up your spine. It felt permanent. It gave you a look into a more concrete future. One where Din and Grogu were both yours and yours alone.

Din let out a soft sigh before pulling back. You waited to open your eyes until you felt the cool metal of his helmet pressing against your forehead. You drummed your fingers against the armor covering his chest. “So, when’s this Mandalorian courting session of ours?”

“How about this weekend?” Din asked. “We should both have some time off then.”

“Perfect.” You agreed, and it was. With Din by your side, you felt safe. The world wasn’t perfect, far from it, and scars still littered your soul. However, Din made it bearable. You didn’t have to be scared or worried. Not with him. Never with him. “Lemme go check on Grogu. He’s been a little too quiet for a little too long.”

“True.” Din squeezed your hips once before allowing you to slip away.

You glanced at him over your shoulder with a smile⏤ you’d never get tired of staring at his tall and broad form. Even covered head to toe in layers of clothes and metal, Din was gorgeous. You slipped down the hall and called out for the little boy to hear no reply. 

“Grogu?” You poked your head into Din’s bedroom to see a green ear sticking out from his hammock. You frowned in confusion. Why had he crawled back into bed? “Grogu, baby, you’re gonna be late.”

“No.” He blurted.

Your eyes widened, “Grogu⏤”

“No. Don’t wanna go.” Grogu mumbled.

Worried, you reached into the hammock and pulled Grogu out of his blankets and into your chest. He curled up there without hesitation and with a furrowed brow you rubbed his back. “Baby boy, what’s going on?”

“No.” He just repeated the word. 

School was not back in session. Wynn’s funeral was two days ago and though there were people to rise up and pick up her role in this community they had big shoes to fill and no one was quite ready to attempt that yet. However, one of the Mandalorians offered to host a daycare-esque group in order to watch the children of parents who needed to work. You were fairly certain this babysitting would involve training of sorts. This seemed more likely after hearing Din explain what a courting session was.

“Don’t you wanna go see your friends?” You asked.

“El not there.” Grogu pouted.

“Right.” You nodded. Elodie was still off world with her parents. She was doing very well, but it might be a while longer before they returned. “But Poe will be there, and all your other friends.”

“Miss not there.”

Your heart broke at his quivering words. Grogu had not handled the funeral well at all. You knew he was taking the loss of his teacher hard. You hugged him tighter to your chest and let out a soft sigh. A knock made you glance over your shoulder to see that Din had followed after you since you hadn’t returned with the green boy in tow. 

“Is everything okay?” Din came closer. He reached out and set his hand on top of Grogu’s head. “Ad’ika?”

“No!” Grogu chirped again and kept his face buried against you. 

You felt Din’s gaze lift to yours. He tilted his head and you replied quietly, “He misses Wynn.” Din’s shoulders slumped. Quickly, you squeezed Grogu in your arms. “How about you come to work with me today, baby?”

“Lek!” Grogu’s head shot up. “Lek! Lek, Ma.”

You felt relief flood your heart at seeing Grogu’s mood shift back to his typical eager self. Din’s hand settled on your lower back and he leaned in. “Are you sure that’s okay? I can take him, ner kar’ta.”

“You’re gonna be moving all around the city today.” You shook your head. “It’ll be easier for me to watch him.” You shot him a smile. “Plus, you got to spend weeks with him alone and exploring the universe. It’s my turn to hog his attention.”

Din chuckled. “Alright. That’s fair.”

You tickled Grogu’s side and he laughed at the distraction. Taking the boy into work with you today, though most likely a distraction, would be fun. With the decision settled, the three of you made your way out of the house and into the city’s center. This was always one of your favorite activities. Walking with your boys was the perfect start to your day. 

“Be good for Ma today, ad’ika.” Din bowed his head against Grogu’s as you came to a stop outside the clinic. Grogu gave his father’s helmet a few pats. Din lifted his gaze back to your, and you heard amusement fill his voice as he lifted his hand to caress the side of your neck. “You be good today too, ner kar’ta.”

“Hm.” You replied with a smirk. “No promises.”

Din chuckled with a shake of his head and he lingered in his spot while you and Grogu headed into the clinic. You glanced over your shoulder to give him a small wave before slipping out of his line of sight. You bounced Grogu in your arms, “Alright, baby, let’s find you some stuff to do while Ma works, huh?”

“Lek!”

“You don’t have to plan to go yet. We always have a place for you.” Din said warmly to Vanth who was sitting on his desk. The man had healed up well, but there were still lingering scars and bruises from the fight. Din would always be in this man’s debt for the lengths he went to in order to protect Nevarro while Din was gone.

“Don’t say that.” Mayfeld cried out. “How the hell are we gonna get rid of him if you keep offering a spot??”

Vanth chuckled. “Oh, come on, Miggsy. I thought you liked me as a roommate. Why else did you offer me your spare room?” 

“I didn’t! You invited yourself!”

Din listened to the men argue with a chuckle. The building Vanth had been staying in was one of the housing areas destroyed in the attack. As much as they seemed to be at one another’s neck, Din had a feeling that they’d miss one another deep down. Deep, deep down. Their relationship reminded him of the one he shared with Paz. Din would go to war to protect his brother in arms and support him, but he also wanted to wring the man’s neck most days.

“Djarin!” 

Speak of the devil…

Din glanced over his shoulder to see Paz step into the marshal office and he made the room look so much smaller just from his size and presence. It felt odd to hear his name said in public like that. With the migration of Mandalorians to Nevarro, Din realized he might need to make alterations. Most of the city still called him Marshal because he didn’t offer them his name, but Din did choose to share it with his inner circle. Vanth, Mayfeld, Karga, Peli, Nima. Just the people he trusted without a doubt.

“You needed to speak to me?” Paz spoke up. “Can you make this quick? I wanted to swing by the clinic to greet wero’ika⏤”

“I gave her my token of intention.” Din snapped. “She accepted, we’re courting. Back off.”

Paz let out a full belly laugh and it took a bulk of Din’s self control to not shoot him. Vanth and Mayfeld had put aside their bickering to focus on the conversation at hand. Din grumbled in annoyance. The one thing that got both men to end an argument was always at his sake it seemed.

“Whoa, wait, you’re talking about Soran?” Mayfeld cried out. “I assume that’s the only person in the clinic you’d be courting.”

Vanth chuckled. “Courting. That’s adorable, brother. Is it a Mandalorian thing?”

“Also, why would you even need to court her?” Mayfeld suddenly added. “The two of you are practically married already. You live together and share a son. You got ‘couple celebrating their tenth anniversary’ vibes.”

Din shook his head in exasperation, but he didn’t bother voicing the fact that he quite liked that everyone in the city seemed to forget you had started as his son’s nanny. As far as they were concerned, you were Grogu’s mother and that made Din’s heart ache with pride.

“In order to properly wed someone to Mandalorian customs, courting must come first. It's taken him long enough.” Paz answered. Both men had already been introduced to Din’s brother days ago when rebuilding and clean up of the city had started. “We have a word for him in Mando’a. Utreekov.”

Din rolled his eyes and Mayfeld let out a laugh. Din’s head snapped to the deputy, “Why’re you laughing? You don’t even know the word.”

“No, but I’m decent at context clues and can make a pretty good bet.” Mayfeld snickered.

“When is your first courting session?” Paz demanded.

Mayfeld narrowed his eyes. “Wait, does that mean ‘date’?”

Vanth crossed his arms and shot his friend a wide, mocking grin. “Hot damn, Miggsy! You are good with those context clues, ain’t ya?”

“You’re literally the worst.” Mayfeld grumbled.

Din crossed his arms. “This weekend.”

“And have you chosen your combat activity yet?” 

Vanth and Mayfeld both paused their bickering once more to snap their attention to Paz. Vanth spoke up first. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘combat activity’? Because if so, I have many questions.”

“Not yet.” Din answered Paz’s question, choosing to ignore Vanth’s. “Why?”

“Am I not allowed to ask?”

Din narrowed his eyes at Paz dubiously. He wouldn’t describe his brother as necessarily ‘nosy’, and he didn’t think Paz would deliberately undermine him. However, he remained skeptical nonetheless. Mayfeld cleared his throat and waved his hand once. “Can we circle back around to 'combat on a date'?”

“It’s just a custom we have.” Din replied in an offhand manner.

Vanth shrugged. “Why get a drink together when you can try to stab one another with a knife?”

“Hm,” Din hummed, “Training with her new dagger actually isn’t a terrible idea.”

“We have different definitions of the word ‘terrible’.” Mayfeld snorted.

“Actually,” Vanth countered, “I think you should use context clues to realize that our buddy Din here⏤”

“Maker, can you leave already!?”

Din nodded his head for Paz to follow him and both Mandalorians walked back to Din’s office leaving Mayfeld and Vanth in the main room. In the privacy of his office, Din turned to face Paz who spoke before he could.

“Did you call me here to ask for advice, vod?” Paz chuckled.

“No, I⏤ Wait, advice for what?”

“For courting gar kar’ta?”

Din bristled in annoyance at Paz picking fun at his nickname for you. He crossed his arms, “Why would I need your advice?” He scoffed. “You’ve known her for a little over a week.”

“I know how little experience you have courting at all. Thought I would help as able. You know,” Paz had a tone in his voice that told Din the man was grinning as he slipped into Mando’a, “So you don’t fuck it up, Djarin.”

Din scoffed. Honestly, he knew if he had a question on the topic of courting he could come to Paz for an answer. He would be mocked relentlessly, but after the ribbing Paz would eventually get to the advice. The issue was Din didn’t even know what to ask. Paz was right. Din had very, very little experience in courting. It was never a priority for him until meeting you. His biggest fear regarding the courting was that his lack of experience would somehow mess this up, but Din had to remind himself how easy things were with you. It was natural.

“So?” Paz pressed.

“Well,” Din began, “I was⏤ Wait, no, stop. That’s not what I called you here for.”

“You sure? It seems you need all the help you can get.”

“B'epa slaat bal ramaana.”

Paz’s howling laughter made Din regret calling him into the office in the first place.

“I told you to keep that bandage dry and you didn’t.” You snapped at one of the local construction workers sitting on your cot. Today wasn't too busy which was nice. Grogu was bouncing happily in the sling you wore which tied him to your front. You covered his large ears, making him glance up at you, then spoke. “That’s why the damn thing is infected, you idiot.” 

The worker gave you a sheepish smile. He was a repeat offender which gave him the honor of getting to hear your full thought process rather than the more politically correct version. You uncovered Grogu’s ears and he just laughed at your antics as if it were a game you were playing with him. Aayla drifted over and you gave the woman a broad grin.

“What would you do?” You asked, quizzing her.

Her eyes brightened, excited to be challenged, “Clean the wound today. Replace the bandages. Then start him on an anti-bacterial.”

“Ointment or oral medication?” You pressed.

Aayla paused in thought then sighed, “I… I’m not sure.”

“That’s alright. You’re learning, and you’re doing great.” You reassured her. “We’re gonna start him on an oral medicine to take because he’s an idiot,” Your eyes dragged to his as you emphasized your words, “that needs to keep his wound dry and clean before the infection turns systemic.”

Aayla giggled and the man laughed as well in good nature. You shook your head and began to walk away to leave Aayla to clean up his wound. Grogu bounced in the sling and began to chant, “Idiot, idiot, idiot.”

“No, no, baby.” You looked down and tugged him lightly on the ear. “That’s an adult word, you don’t use that.”

He repeated the word twice more, making you wince, but you supposed it wasn’t the worst thing for the child to repeat. As often as Din barked out the curse ‘dank farrik’ around the house it was a miracle Grogu hadn’t added that phrase to his vocabulary.

“Hey!” You glanced over to see Nima sweep into the room with a wave. She hurried over to greet you and Grogu. “Hey there, you green little bug.”

“Idiot!”

Nima’s eyes widened, “Whoa, hey.”

“Sorry, he’s been blurting it out because I told him not to say it.”

“Oh, okay. I was about to be super sad.” Nima chuckled. She reached out and tickled Grogu who squealed in response. “How come you got the baby with you?” You shook your head to let her know you’d tell her later. Not wanting to bring up the topic of Wynn in front of Grogu again. Nima picked up and moved on. “Busy morning?”

You shook your head. “Not so much. It’s been alright. You?”

“These days we’re so busy with repairs I don’t think I’ve touched an engine block in days.” Nima groaned. “I’m happy to be helpful, but Maker, do I miss tinkering.”

“Well, I might have news that’ll cheer you up.” You grinned. “Din and I are going on our first date this weekend.”

Nima scoffed. “Date? Why don’t you guys just get married already?”

“Nima.”

“Fine.” Her lips turned into a bright smile. “So date, huh? What’s on the agenda?”

“Hand to hand combat. Maybe.” You shrugged and Nima tilted her head in alarm. You explained to her the Mandalorian custom then focused on your half. “I get to plan a regular date though.”

Nima clapped her hands in excitement and Grogu copied her motions while peering up at you. “Do you have an idea yet??”

You nodded and bit your lower lip before voicing your thoughts. “I was thinking of making us a picnic to lay out in our living room. Pin up string lights, make a nice meal with wine and dessert.” Nima blinked at you without a reaction. “What?”

“That’s kind of… boring, isn’t it?” Nima scrunched her nose. “I just mean, I thought you guys would do something exciting! The lava plains does tours that’ll take you right up to the volcano’s edge. There are hot springs at the outside of the city where the two of you could share a bath.” She shimmied her shoulder. “You know, something like that.”

You twisted your lips, “You think he won’t like my idea?”

“You know your husband better than I do.” Nima held her hands out in surrender, Grogu mimicking her once more. You rolled your eyes at the ‘husband’ comment. “I was just offering my two cents.”

You hummed in thought and stood in place as Nima pulled a bag of candy out of her shoulder pack and began to feed them to Grogu who gobbled them up happily. Technically, the date you had in mind really wasn’t the most exciting of things the two of you could do. That being said, it felt right. Going on a lava plains tour, Din would be stressing the entire time about you accidentally falling into the mouth of a volcano to fully relax. Going to the hot springs, Din couldn’t actually enjoy it with you unless he decided to strip out of his armor and you knew he didn’t like being bare out in even a semi-public area. You also couldn’t go out to eat or for drinks in the city since he couldn’t remove his helmet. 

More so, staying at home allowed you the opportunity to get his mouth on you which was always a plus. All those thoughts should put a stone of anxiety in your belly, but instead all you felt was excitement. The comfort and safety Din brought with his presence left no room for doubt or strain. He was home.

"Oh, also, I was gonna ask," Nima pointed at your neck, "What's up with the giant hickey?"

"Huh?" You blurted. Nima rustle through her pack again and pulled out a compact mirror. She held it up to you and your eyes widened at the sight of the two darker patches of skin where Din had left bruises with his kisses this morning. One on your neck and the other by your collarbone. Your face warmed up and an amused smile pulled up the corners of your lips. "That son of a bitch."

Grogu squealed, "Son of a bitch!"

mando'a translations:

ner kar'ta: my heart ad'ika: little one vod: brother utreekov: idiot gar kar'ta: your heart b'epa slaat bal ramaana: eat dirt and die

taglist (closed):

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition

[skyhiii]

A Fresh Start. 🎈

[steven-g-rogers]

closed starter for @frstevenn

Steve was a bundle of nerves as he led Bucky into his apartment at the Avengers Tower.  If anyone had asked him a year ago if he thought he’d be leading his childhood best friend and later love of his life into an apartment he lived in, in a state of the art highrise in the heart of Midtown Manhattan, Steve would have called them crazy.

But a lot of crazy stuff had happened to Steve Rogers recently.  It should have been impossible for him to survive being frozen for sixty years, but he had, and really, everything after that had been a whirlwind of increasingly impossible things.  And now here he was one of two men who should be dead, about to try making a life together.

He knew that they couldn’t just jump right into what they used to be.  They had both been through so much.  Neither of them were the carefree boys they’d been before the war.  Bucky in particular had gone through more than anyone and Steve couldn’t just assume he’d even want that anymore.  But he was here, so there was hope.

Steve was suddenly aware that the apartment was bare and untidy. Tony had been nice enough to give him an apartment with views of the East River, and due to a mixture of not really feeling like this was his home and liking the views so much, he’d never bothered to decorate.  There was no art on the walls or personal affect.  It was just the sleek, impersonal furniture that Tony had put in. The only sign that Steve even lived here was the dishes in the sink and a pile of papers on the coffee and side tables.

“Shit,” Steve said, dropping his shield by the kitchen table and starting to pick things up.  “I should have cleaned up.  Make yourself at home, Buck.  You want anything?  Coffee?  I have juice.  I think.”

He didn’t know what Bucky’s plans for where he wanted to sleep and he didn’t want to assume.  “The bedrooms are down that way,” he said, pointing to the hall.  “You can take your stuff down there.”

[flamingskull28]

I think it's about time I give this lore about Alex. He doesn't keep the mask forever, long into his story after confronting his parents (a whole other ordeal) which was a massive raid that badly hurt him and was stressful for everyone. They all take a movie night at 4's place. Alex takes a break and stands out on thr balcony. Looking out thinking over everything that's happened.

The realizing, he's happy... almost. There is one thing that gets in the way of his true freedom from his past and pain. He grips the cursed mask and tears it off. He grips it then pauses as if in mental battle.

Then without warning is hurling it to the street below where it shatters into a thousand pieces in a forgotten alley. His face feels the cold breeze like it hasn't in years. He turns back to his friends, finally being free.

[scribbling-punk]

A Fresh Start

A/B/O Lena & Sam, eventual Lena/Sam/Kara. A delicious wee commission from a very kind and patient person who has been wonderful towards me.

Lena glances down at her cell phone as it vibrates, her jaw firmly setting as Kara’s name appears on the screen for what feels like the 1000th time in the last few weeks.

She’s in no mood for another round of desperate apologies; for Kara to continue pushing her to offer forgiveness before Lena has even had a chance to wrap her head around the truth that Lex had so gleefully forced on her with his dying breath.

The revelation that Kara is Supergirl had shattered her entire world, her heart ripped to shreds in real time as Lena had watched the truth play out on the screens behind her dying brother’s head.

Lena had stalked into the games night afterwards and announced in front of everyone that she knew the truth and, without a glance backwards, had stormed back out and ignored all attempts at contact from her friends since then. There’s a part of her that doesn’t blame the others—it wasn’t their secret to tell—but Lena feels like a fool and wonders if they had ever laughed at her for being the only one to not know.

She had trusted Kara with everything. Lena had even told her about her Alpha status, the admission pouring from her lips after one too many drinks, but Lena hadn’t regretted being honest with her best friend.

At least, not until now.

Perhaps it’s ridiculous, but Lena fears that everyone else knows now, that the others are painfully aware that she is the Alpha without a mate; the alpha who suppresses her inner desires at all costs.

Lena stands in the middle of her dimly lit private lab, her fingers trembling as she adjusts the dosage on her suppressant injection. Lena wrinkles her nose against the smell of the antiseptic wipe as she swipes it against her hip, the needle scratching her skin as she injects herself with her own creation, a suppressant much stronger than anything else on the market.

Her eyes squeeze closed as the solution briefly burns as it flows through her veins, the tightness in her pants soon dissipating. It’s a relief to feel the symptoms of her looming rut disappear into thin air, Lena’s shame lessening as she regains control of herself and her actions.

Her relief is short-lived, though, when a heavy knock rattles the door of her lab, startling Lena as she awkwardly throws the empty syringe into the trash.

Isolated, paranoid, and filled with a rage that terrifyingly reminds Lena of her relatives, she makes a point of ignoring the pounding at the door. If it is a work emergency, her assistant would call her, which means that whoever is behind the door, they are here for personal reasons, and Lena has no time or desire to deal with personal issues right now.

“Lena?” Emerald eyes widen when Lena hears Sam’s voice through the door, “come on, don’t make me burst through the door… you know I have a bum shoulder.”

Read A Fresh Start early on Patreon.