#everythinggeeky

After completing his task, Mando came back to you to apologize once again for the conclusion. And maybe just to say hello again, whether he’d be willing to admit it or not. He asked you to follow him home that night, to board his ship and serve as some sort of distraction for the worries of bounty hunting.

You spent the next few months working and traveling together, and it was nothing short of perfection.

You perched yourself in the copilot’s chair of the Razor Crest, just behind Mando, analyzing his calculated movements. He maneuvered his ship with such precision that fascinated you, the idea of hyperspace travel and travel beyond your previous everyday experiences. 

You spent your childhood on Tatooine in a mining neighborhood, surrounded by families just trying to make a living. Most of those families were slaves, forced to mine just to survive. Growing up on the sand planet was lonely and menial. Those two things marked the rest of your life. Perhaps up until the Mandalorian walked into the bar that day.

The new freedom and adventures were the same ones that Din had promised you when he swept you along for an adventure. Perhaps a copilot was just what he needed. 

“Come with me?” he asked after returning to the cantina hours later.

“What? I can’t just leave with you, Mando. I have no idea who you are. Are you going to kill me for money just like all of your other bounties?”

A warm chuckle echoed through the vocoder of his helmet, “I’m not going to kill you. Been wondering about the galaxy for a while on my own. Maybe it’s time for some company.”

After giving him a side-eye and sizing him up for a while, you agreed and joined him on your first adventure: a quick one-out on a nearby planet that you didn’t even know the name of. On the way there, you shared stories about your childhood and life at home, while he nodded and occasionally glanced back at you in your seat. He was interested and focused, laughing when necessary and silent when not. 

You felt comfortable in the early days of your adventures together. There was no judgment about the other’s past or current self and there was comfort about only knowing shreds of details about the other. You were okay being yourself and Din was fine to be The Mandalorian. 

Just as soon as Din had come into your life, you were following him along for countless adventures. On your first trip, after he had plucked you from the cantina, you were chasing bounties with a pistol on your hip. Din had resisted the idea at first, but you insisted that if you were going to be anywhere close to the criminals he was going to be chasing, you were going to be armed. 

He fitted you with a weapon from his expansive collection and smiled under the helmet when the pistol fits your hand just right. 

After landing, you followed in his footsteps, remaining calm and stealthy, just as he had instructed. Extending an arm out to stop you in your tracks, you halted and instinctively reached for the weapon, pointing it in a vague direction.

“Easy…” Din’s voice grumbled from the helmet in a hushed tone. 

You settled into your feet and tried your best to be aware of your surroundings, just as Din had warned. 

The rest of the mission went on without a hitch, easily returning to the Crest with the bounty in hand. After putting him in the chamber, you and Din went on to relax. Taking turns in the refresher, which was just barely large enough for him to fit inside before returning to bed, curled in on one another. 

Din was the first to fall asleep, his chest heaving slowly and rhythmically as he softly exhaled. In these moments, you took note of the years that have worn on his body. Even with his face covered by the helmet, you note the years of experience that shows itself in wrinkles, scars, and bruises that littered his body. 

Your heart ached for those days once more. 

In those quiet moments, you felt yourself tumbling into an abyss that you didn’t quite understand, and you weren’t sure if you ever would. 

Din was never explicit about his feelings, instead choosing to remain focused on the task at hand. 

You ached to feel the same vulnerability from him that you offered in return. You had shared your deepest secrets with him, but he never did the same with you. 

As it has been for the last several months, Mando would come home from a job, put the Child to bed, and would collapse in the pilot’s chair or the cot without acknowledging your presence. 

While he was working, you scrambled around the Crest to straighten things up, take care of the fringes of his life that you actually had access to. The ship was surprisingly sterile, with no traces of a family or a life outside of his work. You tried to turn the ship into a home by including soft furs; turning the hard cot into something that resembled a mattress. You brought out the best you could find to prepare for a hero’s welcome.

You sat by the entry door of the ship like a child after cleaning and shining the ship from top to bottom. Hours later, when Mando finally came home, no bounty in his hands, he dropped his weapon carelessly to the side and pushed past you to finish getting as comfortable as one can in Beskar armor. 

“Din…” you spoke up after sitting there for a few moments, waiting for him to acknowledge you.

“Hm?” he spoke up from the next room over.

“Hello….”

“Hey.”

“That’s it? That’s all I get?”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know...maybe more than a ‘hey’” you said, rising from your seat to walk into the room where he stands with his back turned to you. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Of course you don’t,” you scoff, going back to the copilot’s chair, “you never do,” you mutter under your breath.

Mando doesn’t take note of your attitude, choosing to do a few repairs instead of carrying on a conversation with you. When he finally decides to return to the pilot’s chair, you make your way to bed for the night. Din doesn’t stop you.

The Child follows you and lays his small body on top of yours. You let out a soft sigh.

As you laid in the same bed you once shared months ago where you held onto one another and laughed joyously, you wondered if you messed something up or made a crucial mistake along the way. The bulk of his disappointment weighed heavily on you as you sobbed yourself to sleep. 

On similar occasions where homesickness would send you tumbling into a similar depression, Din was the one to be your comfort, pulling a blanket around your shoulders and embracing you warmly. He had been the one to shroud the trauma and damage from your life. You had put him on a pedestal; you believed that he was the one. More than a traveling companion and more than a friend because no one had cared for you and had taken the time to get to know you as he had.

The ruins of your failed relationship surround you now, forcing you to pick up the pieces around you just enough to survive another day in the hell that was shared quarters with the Mandalorian. You begged him to share the same level of personal details that you had with him. Footnotes, even. Anything. He rejects the request, unwilling to heal the scars that cover his wounds.

He continues on with his life, assuming that you’re fine. 

You’ve thought about leaving. Pulling the dagger from your chest that is keeping you pinned down in the hell that the Razor Crest has become. You could leave just as easily as you had come along. Leave the ship and never come back. Close this chapter of your life and start again on a new planet.

The day that you finally packed your bag and left while Din was at work was both the most freeing and the most pressure that you’ve ever felt. You left a note on the pilot’s chair of the Crest that read:

“Din, thank you for the last year of adventures with you. It was wonderful to try to understand you and work with you along the way. Thank you for bringing me with you to see the galaxy. It hasn’t been easy trying to understand you, but I thank you for it all. 

It’s time for me to be on my own again. Take care of the Child and love him as you did me. To my clan of two, I’ll miss you always. Thank you, Y/N.”

After taking one last look at the scene you left behind, you made a run for it and found a place to stay for a few days before bouncing to the next. Eventually, you found a job as a shopkeeper in a local stall, selling handmade goods from a merchant in town. You made your own wages to pay for the cost of living and started to remember what it felt like to be on your own again.

You found freedom and independence. And just as easily as Din had gained the weight of you, he had lost it.

Starting at the cockpit, you looked around for any signs of life. With no thermal readings in sight, you continued to explore. Everything appeared normal at first glance; a standard pilot’s seat and a seat behind with regular equipment that would be necessary for cross-galaxy travel amidst Imperial threat. 

As you continued on, you found samples of the pilot’s life that made you raise a brow. Weaponry that wasn’t Imperial nor Republic and mimicked the weapons you had seen in your own work. You kept your tracks silent, afraid of disturbing any sort of trigger that would alert the owner to your presence. 

In the lower level of the ship, you spotted more familiar tech; carbonite freezing technology. Something that was common for bounty hunters to use to flash-freeze targets. 

Was this a bounty hunter’s ship?

You heard the trigger of a blaster click into place before you had the chance to turn around. You raised your hands in surrender before a voice spoke out through a heavy vocoder, “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

“It’s not what it looks like, I promise I haven’t touched anything,” you pleaded as you turned around slowly to meet another Mandalorian shrouded in heavy beskar.

“Who are you?” the Mandalorian asks, blaster still pointed squarely at your chest.

“Y/N...I’ve been injured and my armor needs repair.”

“Sit down,” he says after a moment of analysis, gauging you for a threat.

He disengages his weapon and returns it to the holster on his hip. He sealed the ship and settled the small green child in a seat, handing off something for him to eat. He seemed to look after the creature; a foundling he considered to be family.

“Is that the bounty that caused all of the ruckus on Nevarro a few months ago?”

“He means no harm…”

“We could both be captured. You’re getting yourself into more trouble by hauling that thing around.”

“I’ve been tasked to return him to his kind. And I will see to it.”

You nodded, shredding your armor to look over your wounds. Your fellow Mandalorian handed you a bacta-spray, which you applied after shredding the necessary layers of your armor in privacy. You smiled in satisfaction when the deep wound on your chest began healing quickly.

“How were you injured? What are you here for?” Mando asked curiously.

“Imperial shootout…..I was on a hunt. Clearly, it worked out well for me. Bounty got away...and I got fuckin’ hurt.”

“Imperial troops have been crawling on the planet since Moff Gideon decided to show his face here...you’re a fool to think they wouldn’t come for you, too.”

“No one really told me the place was crawling with Imps!”

Mando scoffed and rolled his eyes under his helmet, “should’ve known better.”

“Oh yeah, like you haven’t ever had a run in with trouble. You know, you’re not exactly known as the best guy in the galaxy because of what you did with this guy,” you said while motioning to the Child.

“Don’t look at him like that.” The Child tilted his head when looking up at you.

“Sorry….didn’t know you were that..protective. Well listen...I’ve gotta get off this planet. I’ve got another job and I just need transit.”

“I’m not a taxi driver,” Mando replied coldly. 

“I can give you half of what I was supposed to get on this job. But listen, I really need to go.”

“Fine. But don’t think about starting any trouble while you’re here.”

“Deal,” you tossed a few credits towards his direction.

You took a seat in the copilot’s chair, hoping to relax after the shootout you just endured. An awkward silence settled in the air. You were practically strangers. You shared moral code, but knew nothing of the others’ personal lives or backgrounds. Looking curiously over at Mando, searching for any response, which you received none. 

You opted for the awkward silence.

The silence continued for hours until you decided to drift off to sleep for a few hours. Your head landed on your shoulder, soft intakes and releases made a gentle pattern coming out of your helmet. You stirred from your sleep when you felt something tug at the material of your flight suit. You looked down to see the small green creature looking up at you with wide eyes. You scooped him up to sit on your lap before falling back asleep.

A few hours later, you arrived at your destination. The Mandalorian easily landed the ship, and you left without concern. You handed a few credits over to Mando, which he declined.

“We’re supposed to help our kind...you can always repay the favor.”

“Of course. Thanks for the transit.”

“Anytime,” Mando boarded the Razor Crest with the Child and continued on his journey to return the Child to his people.

As you watched the clock tick, your pulse elevated one point. There was less than an hour left until his estimated arrival. God help you if he was on time, or early. You quickly whisked the thought away. Javier Peña was never on time, let alone early. He always found something...or someone to occupy his time. 

There was a moment in both of your lives when that was each other. 

It was a photographic life of domesticity: you had a beautiful ranch on a piece of land that once was owned by Javier’s father, whom he was very close with. Papa would make loving visits to say hi, share a meal, or just to bug Javier about fixing the leaking faucet in the powder room. You would have dinner on the kitchen table by 5 pm, and Javier would drop his keys in the bowl on the credenza next to the front door. 

You had gotten married in the backyard of the ranch. It was a special ceremony; just for the two of you and your closest friends, family, and Javier’s coworkers. The ranch was your happy place; there were so many special memories that were kept there. 

It was the stereotypical American dream, and it felt like bliss….until it all came crashing down around you.

A year after you had gotten married, you found out you were pregnant in the bathroom of the Piggly Wiggly. You had been feeling sick for the last week and when you missed your period, you decided it would be best if you bought a test on your weekly outing for groceries. The anticipation was practically eating you alive, so you bit the bullet and took the test in the grocery store bathroom. You nervously bounced your feet against the faintly sticky floor and flashed your eyes to the test two minutes later.

You watched the two faint lines develop and before you could process it for yourself, your whole life had changed forever.

You brought the test home to Javier that afternoon, passing it over after dinner. 

“This is yours?” he met your eyes.

You nodded, smiling a toothy grin, “you’re gonna be a daddy, Javi.”

“Shit!” he stood, excitedly, a wide smile on his own face, pulling you into a tight embrace.

As happy as Javier was on that day, the fresh excitement dwindled and was replaced by the harsh reality of parenting. 

The months leading up to Sofia’s birth had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

Javier would come home from work, drop his keys in the bowl, but the drop became more half-hazard and louder with every passing day. He came to expect a perfectly cleaned house and a hot, well-balanced meal on the table, and when your health slowly deteriorated because of your pregnancy, things had gotten harder for you and it just wasn’t as easy as it was six months ago. Javier was frustrated with the little things, and in your naivety, had contributed it to the stress from work. Those two combined created the perfect scenario for life-altering meltdowns that ultimately ended your marriage.

The screaming fights were ugly, ending in one of you crying and breaking down, as Javier typically took a breather in his Jeep with a loop around the neighborhood. You pushed one another away, the distance eventually caused him to find an apartment in the next town over, file for divorce, and encouraged him to leave for Columbia before the divorce could even be finalized.

Javier had left your life just as easily as he had come into it. 

And suddenly, Javier has weaseled his way into your life once again. 

His invitation had come in a letter, and as unconventional as it was, was endearing. He admitted to his shortcomings, wanting to make up for them and make a consistent appearance in his daughter’s life. Perhaps foolishly, in a lapse of judgment, if you will, you accepted his offer and allowed him to make the visit.

He was due to arrive in just over half an hour, and you were dreading it, but you also couldn’t deny that a part of you had a grim curiosity about what his visit would entail. 

You heard the Jeep putter outside, and silence after Javier parked on the street. You inhaled a deep, cleansing breath, hoping to rid yourself of the anxiety you had been carrying for the last week. Sofia stirred once again on your hip, looking out the window and gawking for herself.

“That’s daddy, baby…” you hushed to her.

“Da-...?” she stumbled over the foreign words.

“Yeah, Dad,” you sighed, walking to the front door to greet Javier as he knocked.

“Javier,” you reacted plainly, swinging the door to the modest three-bedroom rancher you now kept to yourself, a town over from the ranch. 

“Y/N…” he sighed, looking to you first, and then Sofia, “Sofia…you’re so big.”

“Wanna show daddy how old you are, Soph?” you modeled three fingers, to which she mimicked with her childlike chubby fingers.

“Wow….” he sighed in a dreamlike tone, his absence suddenly becoming real. 

He had missed what every first time father hopes to see; the first birthday, the first tooth, the first peanut butter (Sofia had handled that one like a champ, scraping the residue off the roof of her mouth, immediately begging for more) and of course, the big ones; the first steps, first words, and so on. You had held those precious memories close to your heart. Sofia was your precious princess; and you had wanted her to blossom into an amazing girl, even if you had to do it on your own.

“Come on….we can go sit in the playroom…” you led Javier into the playroom which neighbored the kitchen.

You sat Sofia down for playtime, to which she immediately seized the opportunity and started playing with her favorite toys. You sat down on the couch, and Javier sat next to you, a comfortable distance between you two. Too close for friends, too far for partners who once shared the same bed.

“Y/N…”

“Listen, Javi….I know you’re here to make good...but I’m happy, and so is Sofie. And we’re doing just fine.”

“That the thing, Y/N, I’m not.”

“That’s not what you said before you left us to chase drug lords in Columbia….”

“I know.”

“Then what? Why are you here?”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Listen...I forgave you a long time ago, Javi….but I’m much better off now. And maybe that’s because you’re not here.” 

“I want to be here. For Sofia.”

“You don’t get to decide when just to come into her life and then leave again when it’s convenient for you.”

He sighed before starting again, looking down at the toddler playing with a stack of blocks on the rug, “I realized when I was down there how much I needed this….needed a family.”

“What? The War on Drugs is changing your heart? Just like that?”

“Y/N...let me. While I was down there I realized that I was bigger than myself, that I needed something else to live for. My career is about me and what is the best for me, and who knows...maybe someone else. But when I go home at the end of the night to my empty apartment and my empty bed….I can’t help but think back to you. I’ve been thinking about this a lot...and what it means to be a dad...and I want to be that again.”

You inhaled a deep breath, considering his proposal. If you were as naive as you were when you first met him, you might have believed him, but the two years where you were actually married to the man eventually dwindled into the most catastrophic two years of your life. 

The fights were incredibly violent when Javi was stressed; he would pour himself a heavy glass of bourbon and would suck it down before you could say anything. Of course, as you floated around him, tending to his every need, he poured another glass, and another, eventually rendering himself intoxicated in the pale light of the hood above the stove, long after you had decided to go to bed. He would stumble up the stairs, mumble something about how the ranch was “too damn big for him to manage like this” and you would roll over in bed and hope he wouldn’t try anything in his current state.

He never touched you when you said no. He was a respectful man. His father had raised him well like that. As a matter of fact, when things started to go downhill, Papa was one of the first people you reached out to, before your own parents. Papa mentioned something about “talking some sense into the boy”, knowing what was best for him; you.

Nevertheless, you fought with Javier. And it went beyond your average, everyday couple domestics. Your fights were brutal and dug deep, riddled with personal attacks and jabs that left a heavy scar in their wake. 

As Javier begged for his place back into your life, you couldn’t help but think of the lonely nights spent crying into the duvet of the queen sized bed, while he slept on the couch downstairs. You didn’t think you could bear anymore nights like that, and you staked your claim.

“Javi...I can’t just let you waltz back in here on the promise that you’ll become a better man. I just can’t do that to Sofia.”

“Y/N...I promise I’ve changed. I mean it. I’ve seen what happens to the world when men become too powerful...and I can’t raise my little girl in a world like that without a father.”

“I’m going to need you to prove that to me.”

“I promise. I’ll do anything. Absolutely anything. Once this is all over, and there’s a bullet in Escobar’s head...I’ll come back to you and Sofia and I’ll be the man I’ve always promised to be.”

“Javi?”

“Yes, mija?”

“You better not be lying to me.”

Of course, every once in a while Javi had to call off your plans, which was no big deal, you understood his job and knew how demanding it could be. But, he always called ahead of time and apologized profusely. 

When he didn’t show up for a few hours you got a little worried, but Javi hadn’t called so you assumed he was still coming home eventually. So when he stumbled in the front door, holding his side and sweating, you rose from your seat on the couch to meet him. Dropping the food on the counter with haste, he grumbled and leaned against the wall. 

“Are you okay?”

Without another word, Javier pulled up his shirt from where it was tucked into his jeans, revealing a bloody gash on his side where a bullet must have grazed him.

“Babe- oh my god...sit down,” you said leading him over to the couch to lay back, undoing the buttons of his shirt to take it off, “what the hell happened?”

“Run in with sicarios…” he winces as he repositions.

“Luckily, it’s just a graze….” you trail off going to look for supplies in the bathroom. 

You return with rubbing alcohol and gauze, working to clean up the wound and bandage it as best as you can. 

“I think you need to stop being so reckless...you can’t always be the one throwing yourself into the action. You’re lucky this is just a graze. You could’ve gotten killed.”

Javier was always the one to do what had to be done without a second thought. The dealings with Escobar had worn him down. You watched him go from the agent that was always the first to seize an opportunity, and as months had gone on, you noticed Javier desperately grabbing at straws for any sort of answer to the problem that was the Medellin cartel. 

Javier still promised to come home to you. And even when he arrived a few hours late, he always came home to you. And maybe, just for a while, he was able to push the thoughts of cocaine, of cartels, of Escobar away from his mind for a few hours. Instead, shoving whatever carry out food he found on his way from the Embassy, laughing at whatever overly dramatic telenovela was on tv, and holding you in both of his arms all the while.

You would sigh happily in content, pick at the food long after it was discarded on the table and Javi had poured himself a glass of whiskey. You picked up one of his hands in yours and pecked a soft kiss to the top of his hand.

“Love you..” you mumbled, and Javier never responded. 

But you didn’t need him to. You knew.

If he hadn’t loved you, he wouldn’t always ask for your favorite food and remember it for weeks to come, and wouldn’t make it a priority to see you every Friday. You had known about his past and the multiple women that filled his time in between, but to prove your point, they had fallen by the wayside after Javier had made some level of a commitment to you.

If Javier hadn’t loved you, you certainly wouldn’t be the one to bandage his wounds on his couch. And you certainly wouldn’t chase the bandages with a soft kiss.

“I almost had him, Y/N…” he leaned his head against the back of the couch tiredly, a half-hearted smile dangling from his lips.

“I know, Jav….you always do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry...I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Sometimes we have to do bad things to catch bad people,” Javier sighed, admitting his truth.

“I can’t have you killed out there just to get what you need,” you said brokenly.

Your heart ached for the day when Javier wouldn’t come home. When you would be sitting on his couch in anticipation for dinner and for some time alone with Javier. Instead, you feared that you would be staring at the landline in anticipation for an answer and there wouldn’t be one. Except for the heart-wrenching knock at the door from Steve, from Carrillo, or anyone else who would be the bearer of bad news.

“I can’t lose you,” you continued, fear riddling your words.

“I know. And you won’t.”

“I love you, Javier,” a few tears dropped from your eyes.

“I love you too….” he mumbled for the first time in his life.

It all felt reassuringly clear. Javier knew at this moment that he loved you more than anything and anyone. No one had been there to stand by his side in the bloody aftermath that was this war. And he hadn’t wanted to put anyone else through the living hell that was Escobar’s wrath. And you were the first woman that proved herself to be strong enough to withstand all of it, no matter how ugly it got. 

By admitting that he loved you, he was braving his greatest fear. By muttering those three little words and 8 letters, an overwhelming wave of clarity came over him and reasserted his purpose. He was to love you and care for you, just as you had for him, despite the bloody mess that surrounded you in Medellin.

Over time, as Anakin and yourself grew from padawans to Jedi Knights, the charm began to lose its engraving from the repeated ritual, but the promise still stood between Anakin and yourself.

You would unite following a mission and embrace one another to confirm your physicality. Over time, your relationship with Anakin grew from fellow padawan, to close friend, to the possibility of something more, despite what you chose to label it. You always knew you had a special bond with Anakin, but were afraid to pursue it. The Jedi code forbids attachments, and you couldn’t risk your attachment to Anakin becoming your downfall.

These tender moments of nostalgia only lasted for so long; the sound of the transmission patching through pulls you out of your daze. You sighed heavily, not wanting to be bothered. After turning around, you were relieved to see that it was Anakin instead of another general. 

“Ahsoka, Y/N, this could be a tipping moment for the Clone Wars. The Jedi are counting on you once again. Capture Maul and uncover his motive. I must go, but I know you’ll accomplish what is necessary.”

“Have I ever let you or the Jedi down, Anakin?” you spoke up.

“Never. And don’t let this be the first,” he chuckled, trying to distract from the gravity of the mission at hand.

“I won’t,” you confirmed as Ahsoka walked away to attend to strategic planning with the troops.

“Y/N. I’m serious, I need you to come back to me this time. The way this is looking, the Jedi could gain an advantage here and win the war.”

“I will, Anakin. I always will. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you...too long. There wasn’t enough time today on the dock.”

“I know. And I’m sorry, but with Obi-Wan there…” he trailed off.

His personal communicator chimed again, pulling his attention away from your private moment.

“I have to go, Y/N. The Chancellor-” Anakin tried to pull away.

“Be careful, alright? You know how I feel about mixing politics and war. It’s never good.”

“I’ll be alright. I promised to come back to you, didn’t I?” he smirked his trademark smirk before continuing, “I’ll be back before you miss me.”

“Impossible,” you smiled softly up at him.

“Good luck with your mission, Y/N,” Anakin spoke softly, the transmission ended before you had the chance to finish.

“You too,” you said into the silence.

You were on board a shuttle with Bo-Katan and Ahsoka, making your way to Mandalore. Maul was confirmed to remain in the city, his direct location unknown. Enemy fire interrupted your smooth transport; your troopers, and Bo-Katan leaving the ship on a jet pack. You looked to Ahsoka and shrugged before fleeing the ship, dismantling and disarming the enemy on the way to the surface.

After landing, you were met with heavy blaster fire which was blocked by the smooth and effortless motions of Ahsoka’s lightsabers, as well as your own. Working your way down into the tunnels of the city, you decided it was best you split up. Ahsoka would work with the commander and a few others, and you would lead your own respective group.

Taking out the opposition one by one, you worked with your team to find Maul. Ahsoka patched through eventually informing you of the dark lord’s location. You and your troopers made your way to the hub to surround Maul, armed and ready to fight.

“Ah. I see the Jedi have some new recruits I was not aware of,” Maul purrs.

“Can’t keep moving the same guys around everywhere in the galaxy. Too bad you’re stuck with us I suppose. Surrender and there will be no bad blood,” you spoke up, twirling your saber once for intimidation.

“Surrender? Why do so when the Jedi will inevitably lose?” 

You looked to Ahsoka with concern, preparing yourself for a bloody match with the Sith that almost eliminated Obi-Wan Kenobi. After a small back and forth, you lost track of Maul. You discovered that Darth Sidious was responsible for the Clone Wars, ensuring that the Sith were playing a game with the Jedi from the very beginning. After hours of gruesome fighting and snide remarks, Ahsoka was able to capture some time with Maul to discover Darth Sidious’ plot while you and Bo-Katan resolved the smaller fights on the surface.

You were separated from Ahsoka, busy taking down the enemy forces of the surface of Mandalore. Your saber made quick work of the blaster fire, blocking it from coming into harm’s way with your comrade. Slashing down enemies with an impressive twirl of your saber, mimicking the style of your master from so many years ago.

You hadn’t seen Ahsoka in a few hours, too busy fighting alongside the other troops assigned to the upper levels of the city. You received notice that Ahsoka was in pursuit of Maul, determined to uncover his motive and the greater plot at play. Through her continued efforts, she successfully captured Maul. You reunited and met with the Council to discuss further efforts to eliminate the Chancellor’s control.

“We have Maul. We will escort him back to Coruscant,” Ahsoka speaks up to the Council.

“The war could be over soon…” you trailed off quietly.

“If the Chancellor complies,” Master Windu confirms.

You nod, doubt troubling your mind. Where was this coming from? You knew Anakin and Obi-Wan would complete their mission and get the information necessary to end the war. But something lingering in the back of your mind continued to grow; you were so close, was this really going to be the end of a long war?

Master Yoda questioned your thoughts, “Doubts about the war, you have.”

“Doubts, yes. Is this too good to be true? If Darth Sidious is truly playing both sides...how can we know this war won’t go on for many years to come?”

“Faith in your colleagues, you must have.”

“Yes, Master,” you replied, looking to the floor.

“A message for Skywalker, perhaps?”

“No, when I see him after all of this is over, I’ll tell him myself.” 

“May the force be with you.”

And with that, Master Yoda ended the transmission.

“Ahsoka, you didn’t tell the council about what Maul said” Rex spoke up.

“You’re right. I didn’t,” she spoke as she walked through the doors.

You followed her through, mind wandering endlessly. Is the council right? Is this almost the end of a multi-year war? 

“Wait...What did Maul say? You didn’t mention it to me”

“In time...if what Maul said is true, it will reveal itself. I don’t want to distract you from the truth and from the mission, Y/N.”

“I see...why can’t you tell me, Ahsoka?”

“I just can’t,” she continued after a long silent pause, “I can sense something troubling you, Y/N. What is it?” Ahsoka asks as you make your way to the ship where Maul is to be boarded.

“Do you really think the Council is right? That Maul is right?”

“There’s no way to know for certain, but your doubts echo my own. I know the Order has a reputation for corruption, and it’s not up to me or to you to eliminate that, but I can’t continue knowing I contributed in an effort that allowed innocent people to die.”

“That’s why we’re here, Ahsoka. You know what is right.”

“I suppose, I just don’t want to be a soldier anymore” she closed, taking her position on the bridge alongside Commander Rex, while you sat outside the briefing room, unable to tolerate the pressure of more diplomacy.

As you traveled through hyperspace, the force called out to you in a series of struggles and arguments between an unknown party.

“It’s not the Jedi way!” a voice called out through the force, exhausted.

The painful thoughts plagued your mind as the scuffle continues. 

“What have I done?” 

“Anakin?” you said quietly into the empty hallway, looking around for anyone that could help you, or maybe you could share the news with. 

You hurried to find Ahsoka, surely she felt this too. As the doors to the bridge slid open, Commander Rex stood between you two, guns drawn and aimed at both of you. Pulling your lightsaber from your belt and igniting the blade. Ahsoka stood still, shifting her focus from you and then back to Rex.

“Rex...what is this?” Ahsoka begged.

“Under Order 66, all Jedi are to be executed for treason. You are in violation of Order 66,” he spoke in a tone that was dissimilar from his normal.

Firing a shot at both of you, you and Ahsoka ducked out of the way; using her lightsaber to deflect the back-and-forth fire between the troops. Before you had the opportunity to get caught in the middle of the fire, you fled the scene, running into the hallway of the ship. You ran to escape the fire of the corrupted troops, finding a quiet supply room to yourself.

You thought if you could find the quiet space to meditate, perhaps you could send a message to Anakin. What was the argument that you heard? What did Anakin do that was so terrible that he immediately regretted it? There has to be some good left in him, surely nothing is solidified quite yet. 

Reassuring yourself that nothing has been set in stone, you sat on the cold floor of the supply closet. Inhaling deeply, you centered your thoughts to reach Anakin’s. The blaster fire continued outside, drawing you away from your meditation now and again. As you tried to connect with Anakin, you were once again dragged down by Anakin’s panicked and angry thoughts. 

“Anakin...” you spoke into your force bond, hoping he would reciprocate.

You waited, hanging on desperately for a response. You let a tear fall as you reached for the charm on your belt. 

Three clockwise, four counter. 

“Please, Anakin…”

“Y/N…” Anakin spoke out, heartbreak is laden in his voice.

“Where are you Anakin…?” you pleaded.

“Coruscant,” he quipped.

“What has happened?”

“I can’t-”

“Anakin, please…” your connection was brutely interrupted by clone troopers searing the door, attempting to break the door down.

You looked between the door and the charm in your hand, pondering your next move. As the clones came closer to breaking down the door, you forfeited your force bond with Anakin, leaving your meditative state and igniting your lightsaber. 

Two clones broke down the door to the supply closet, exposing your hiding place.

Another clone echoed Rex’s command from earlier, “you are in violation of Order 66. You will be executed for treason.”

You fought off the clones, finding a way to flee the clones, and reunite with Ahsoka. After running what felt like forever, you found Ahsoka. Breathless, she stopped you.

“Y/N. The clones are compromised.”

“You don’t say,” you huff.

“No, they were designed that way.”

“What??”

“The Kaminoans installed an inhibitor chip. Order 66 was the plan all along.”

“Darth Sidious…”

“Yes.”

“Is this what Maul was talking about…?”

“Yes, but there is something else.”

“Tell me.”

“Y/N, I really can’t.”

“Ahsoka, please.”

“It’s Anakin.”

“What about him? I felt it. I tried. Ahsoka, I tried to talk to him. He pushed me away,” you spiraled.

Ahsoka caught your shoulders, squaring you to herself, “Y/N. Maul said Anakin is behind this. The destruction, Order 66. He is Sidious’s apprentice.”

You pulled away from her, “You lie. There’s no way that Anakin could have done this…”

“I know. But I think Maul may be right. Anakin has always doubted the Council, and increasingly so in recent days…”

“Ahsoka...I..”

“Right now, we have to worry about the clones. We gotta get that chip out of Rex’s head.”

You nodded, trying to focus on the mission. Your personal matters and attachments could not intercede. As Maul caused his own chaos in the corridor, you worked with Ahsoka to fight off the clones and get out of here. Eventually, you made it outside, where after a messy battle, Maul was able to escape after a struggle with Ahsoka. 

The ship was gaining speed rapidly, and the clones were gaining on you. Ahsoka, Rex, and yourself fought back to back, blocking blasters and the increasing pressure from the clones. Ahsoka dropped the three of you to the lower level and covered you and Rex as you looked for an escape ship.

With a boost from Ahsoka, you boarded the ship with Rex, fleeing the wreckage. Ahsoka confirmed she would find her way and would work to defeat the clones. You steered to bring Ahsoka on board after she fled the wreckage herself. When it was safe, you landed on the moon’s surface, examining the wreckage behind.

You took a moment to yourself, finding a quiet space to allow yourself to feel the devastation. You had been through so much within the last day and this was time to rest. Tossing your lightsaber back and forth between your hands, you remembered your fondest memories while training. Working side-by-side with Anakin while you were both padawans were some of your favorite memories. The first time you sparred with him, you took him down practically instantly. 

With a knee on his chest, you leaned into his face, “what? Can’t keep up, Skywalker?” you chuckled, smirking.

“Oh, I can keep up, Y/N,” he smirked, shoving you off his chest.

You laughed while standing back up, “I thought Master Kenobi was supposed to be teaching you something.”

“Hush,” he teased.

You smiled fondly at the memory from your youth. These much happier days seemed so long ago now, both of your lives completely different. Anakin’s choice was confirmed; he had truly given up on the Jedi and on the light side of the force. Hope was lost. In an attempt to comfort yourself, your hand wandered to the charm on your belt again. 

Three clockwise, four counter. 

A tear fell from your eye as you pulled harshly on the charm, detaching it from your belt. You tossed it out onto the expanse of the moon’s surface. You’ve lost hope in redeeming Anakin. You could sense he was gone. This was your only chance for survival.

Following your unceremonial separation, Ahsoka wandered over to you.

“You ready to go?” she spoke softly.

Wiping your eyes, you stood and followed Ahsoka to the shuttle, leaving the moon for good to start your life over again. Your life away from the Order, and away from Anakin.

Vader returned the moon months later. There was a rumor that wreckage from the clone wars existed, rumor that possible Jedi have crept through the cracks of Order 66 and escaped. He searched the surface with a dedicated team of troopers. Through the snow, helmets from the 501st peppered the snow.

Vader knelt to the surface to brush some of the snow aside. In his efforts, a silver piece of metal was hidden under the snow’s covering, beside one of the helmets. He picked it up and recognized it instantly- the same charm he had given to you as a boy.

He took this as a sign of your suffering; the wreckage was brutal and there was no way you survived. Vader pocketed the charm; his own was left burned and charred on Mustafar. Perhaps there was hope and you were alive. Wherever you are, he tried to reach out to you, but the door was closed.

Vader repeated the ritual in his gloved hands.

Three clockwise, four counter.

You remember your own time as a youngling being so different than some of the experiences shared by some of the younglings you now train. Your training schedule was so much more rigorous as you were left panting and your chest heaving. Giggles and squeals now fill the training room instead of the focused grunts and gazes of precision that marked your training days as a youngling.

On days like this, your routine was usually stripping to as few layers as possible, and collapsing into your bed as soon as possible. In recent months, your relationship with a certain bearded Jedi master was blossoming and he was occasionally there to help you through these hard days. This seemed to be one of those exceptions.

Smothering your face into the pillow to hopefully forget the grueling torture of training beings who wanted nothing more than to chase one another with laser swords, you groaned and tried to allow the sleep to wash over your mind.

You changed positions about a hundred times over before you finally got comfortable enough to doze off. Just as you were doing so, the door to your quarters slid open to reveal Obi-Wan Kenobi. As if falling off a cliff, you whipped your head upwards to look at him, your hair clouding your face.

“Well hello there, darling…” he smiled, making his way to your bedside to sweep your hair from your face.

“Obi..” you grinned happily, tipping your chin to him.

“You look exhausted, long day?”

“You could say that.”

“Was it the younglings again?”

“They seem to be growing rowdier and rowdier every day…” you sighed.

“Is that so? Well, I’m here now, why don’t we take your mind off such things, hm?”

“Mhm…” you echoed, allowing him to scoop you into his arms, carrying you the refresher to set you on the counter while he ran a warm bath, to which he added delicate calming flower petals.

As the perfume filled the steam that billowed from floor to ceiling in the small room, you inhaled the sweet scent and allowed it to take effect, slowly melting your stress away. Lowering you carefully into the bath, you sighed happily.

Obi-Wan took a seat at the edge of the tub, carefully lowering your hair into the water to wash and condition it with the gentlest of touches. You smiled dreamily up at him.

“What is it?” He raised an eyebrow at your lofty expression.

“Nothing...I love you…” you whispered, reaching for his hand with your damp one.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

You soaked in the tub for a while longer, long after Obi-Wan had finished washing your skin with a gentle cloth. With the same gentle caution as before, Obi-Wan scooped you under your armpits and lifted you out of the now chilled water. 

Just as quickly as goosebumps rose to cover your flesh, he wrapped you in a soft, plush, white towel that swarmed your body. 

“Thank you…” you mumbled, nuzzling into his chest.

He kissed the top of your head in response and sat you down on the edge of the bed. Scruffing the towel that covered your head playfully, he chuckled to himself.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, my love,” he smiled, finding the bottle of floral lotion you kept on your vanity, walking over to rub it into your skin.

You protested, insisting that he didn’t have to go to such lengths to please you. Despite your protests, he continued until your muscle knots fell to putty in his hands and your eyelids began to drift closed.

Slipping simple linen covering over your head and through your arms, you felt like a child. The quiet intimacy now comfortable between you both following your long relationship. Obi-Wan knew your day had been long and the stress had now overruled your body, enough to wear it thin.

For the good of the Order and for your well-being, he didn’t mind helping you. In fact, seeing you relax in his arms as he cuddled you to sleep was one of the simplest pleasures he had in his daily life now. 

He smiled, watching your body give way to the sleep that plagued your mind, knowing that you finally had the opportunity to rest. After making sure that you were certainly asleep, he gave way to his own drowsiness, holding you tight to his form, his head tucked safely in your neck.

True solace was found in one another here. He was your peace and your comfort; your favorite part of coming home.

When Ren had opened the class with the syllabus guidelines, you were immediately overwhelmed. Would this semester even be possible with a full course load? This class alone would demand all of your attention and would occupy all of your time between lectures, study groups, and independent work and reading.

His writing standards were ridiculous and unlike any other professor you’ve ever had a class with. Single-spaced 11 point font, serif-font only. Any spelling or usage error was an automatic failure. In his opinion, an upperclassman English major wasn’t allowed to make a spelling mistake. It was lazy and proved that you were incapable. In addition to his insane writing standards, Ren had assigned multiple difficult texts for the semester that was way beyond the 300-course level. There was no way you would be able to understand anything you were reading, let alone write about it.

But damn, did he look good.

His impeccably shined shoes waltzed across the lecture hall and instantly took command of the space. All of the students in the lecture hall were equally as intimidated by the course as you were, but some did a better job of hiding it. And some, like the girls in the front in their short skirts and fluffy pens, did not hide their infatuation for the professor at all. There was no doubt they were here for one thing; a chance with the black sheep of the English department.

Over the course of the syllabus week, the front row had decreased by half. The fluffy pen girls were scared away, and you were getting pretty damn close yourself. The opening assignment was due two days ago, it required a full and detailed reading of the text. The close textual analysis was the core of the assignment. 

His prompts included trick questions and meaningless tidbits of information. He expected his students to take a strong approach to the text and defend it. SparkNotes could not save you in English 305. The remainder of the class assignments were structured exactly like this one. If you failed this first assignment, you would be removed from the roster. 

It had taken you over 12 hours to complete the first five-page assignment. In the process, you lost your mind and all confidence in reading and understanding the English language. When you submitted at the beginning of the lecture on Friday (on paper, Ren was the only professor in the department to demand it), you were just happy you didn’t have to look at the assignment anymore.

“I’ll have these graded and I’ll have individualized comments on your papers. Areas of improvement and areas of success. You are dismissed.” Professor Ren announced, not looking into the rows of students who have already mentally checked out for the day.

Neatly packing your things into your bag, you had missed his silent approach to the table. 

“y/n, correct?”

You whipped your head up to meet him, nodding “correct.”

“Glad to see you’re paying attention today. Are you enjoying the material?”

You stood from your seat, gaining a few inches but easily a foot shorter than him.

“I can’t lie and say it isn’t difficult, Professor. But after the first few readings for clarity, I did start to enjoy it.”

“Good. It’s challenging for a reason, it’ll make you a better reader and a better writer.” He walked away from your table, placing his own things into his leather messenger bag.

“Enjoy your weekend, y/n. But not too much.”

You left the hall with a curt nod, Professor Ren only a few paces behind you. Controlling your breath, you turned down the hall to exit the academic hall, returning to your dorm room to relax for the weekend.

When Monday came around, to say that you’ve been incredibly nervous about your grade for Professor Ren’s class would be an understatement. You had dressed nicely for today’s class, you had a presentation in your next class and maybe it would provide an extra boost of confidence to outweigh all of your anxiety.

Taking your seat in the second row, you found no one in front of you. They weren’t joking about removing students from the roster. Now, no one separated you from Professor Ren’s intimidating glare. Preparing yourself for the lecture, you tried to stay focused as best as you could, but today, Professor Ren was wearing a deep navy blue button-down with a skinny black tie, without a wrinkle in sight. He looked impeccable. The deep navy complimented his hair so nicely.

“y/n!” Ren declared from the front of the room, “Can you remind us what Blake told the world?” He brought you out of your daze.

“Uhh…’no bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings’….?”

“No. Blake sought to remind his readers of the beauty of nature and destruction through his works of poetry, art, and printmaking. And I suggest you pay attention to the lectures. This will be in the midterm.”

Without a response but with a heavy blush, you continued to scribble down notes on your notebook, including what Ren just said. 

The rest of the lecture went relatively smoothly, and only a small amount of embarrassment. Professor Ren handed out the introductory assignments right before dismissal. He handed your assignment to you upside down, you turned it over to see it scribbled in red pen. Heavy underlining and circles seemed to outnumber your own writing on the page. You scoffed in indignation and quickly filed the paper away in your bag in sheer embarrassment. Haven’t you had enough today?

“y/n, please see me in my office after class.” Professor Ren called out to you from the hallway before you could have the chance to slip out the door.

Apparently not. Shit.

When you made it to his office, he was already sitting comfortably in the large desk chair behind the heavy wooden desk. His office was decorated floor to ceiling with bookshelves which were full of books spanning a variety of eras, most of them 18th century, his specialty. You took a curious look around, his office seemed to match exactly what you thought it would.

“When you’re done gawking, take a seat.” he was the first to speak.

Without another word or another look, you took your seat in the chair across the desk from his. Setting your backpack down next to you, you avoided looking up at your professor.

“I’m worried about your grades. You’re in danger of being dropped from my roster.”

“Is this because of the intro paper?”

“Yes, and you’ve been...distracted by other things in my class, y/n. You have incredible potential. You just need to apply yourself.”

“Apply myself? Professor...I don’t understand… I read the text, and I read your notes. I worked for hours on that paper. I don’t understand what could be the problem here.”

“First of all, your intro paper was atrocious. It was disorganized and lacked a clear thesis.”

You opened your mouth in indignation, to which Ren quickly raised his hand to silence you.

“Look at last Wednesday’s notes again. You’ll find that Walpole would’ve said otherwise.”

“Professor Ren-”

He cut you off once again, “y/n.”

You sighed, surrendering, “perhaps I had been a little distracted.”

“Distracted.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What could have possibly held your attention that is more important than Walpole?”

You hesitated to defend yourself, “you, sir.”

“Me? Perhaps something should be done about that.”

“What? I don’t understand...I can join another study group if that would help, perhaps there are other students that understand the material better than I do…”

“No. You’ve already been assigned a study group. You’ll remain there until I say so. As for your distraction, come here.” His demeanor flipped on its head.

You rose hesitantly from your seat, standing in place. He called you over with a seamless motion of his hand. With that, you stepped closer to him, keeping a reasonable distance between your bodies. From this angle, he appeared incredibly tall, taller than when he was in the front of the lecture hall.

“Professor Ren, if there’s anything I can do to keep my grade up, I’ll do it. I need this class to graduate…”

“Oh, you’ll do anything…?”

“Yes, sir.”

Without another word, he pushed you gently to your knees in front of him.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me in class, practically drooling. You’re just as bad as those sluts with their pink fuzzy pens...spreading their thighs and just hoping to get some dick to pass…is that what you want?”

You nod and then bow your head in shame as Kylo palms himself softly. He unzips the fly of his slacks and pulls himself free.

“Take it,” he growls softly.

Reaching to grasp his cock, you start jerking it slowly.

“Don’t tease me.” he snarls through gritted teeth.

Licking slowly from base to tip, you take him in your mouth. Eventually, you gain confidence and begin bobbing your head down his shaft. Ren gripped the back of your skull, pushing you deeper onto his cock. Choking, you try to steady yourself and push off using his thighs. He doesn’t let you, instead, pushing down further on him.

With a heavy groan, Ren finally releases you, pushing you back to the ground. 

“Stop. Before you make me cum in your mouth like a common whore. Up. On the desk.” He orders.

You rise from your knees to sit on his desk.

“Where all naughty girls like you end up…spread your thighs for me like I know you want to.”

Propping your knees up on the sides of the desk as instructed, you revealed the thin lacy panties that were hiding underneath your short skirt. Ren took his position on his knees, eye level with your core. Looking up at you, he searched for any sign of resistance and found none, so he continued. 

“You know I can take whatever I want…” he trailed off before lowering your panties off your hips and tossed them beneath his desk to retrieve later. 

Spreading your folds with his fingers, he rubbed over your clit with his thumb once, twice, waiting for your signal.

“Professor!”

“That feels good, you little slut…? Soaking wet for your professor…” 

“Yes sir, please! Do something...it feels so good!”

“Quiet.”

Going silent, you held back a moan when he went down on your clit. Sucking and flicking over it, you threatened to release a moan with every change of pace. His mouth was talented; it was good for more than delivering lectures and issuing critiques. At this moment, your body warmed with pleasure. It starts low in your belly and radiates outwards. Gripping onto his hair for support, you pulled him in closer to your core. He grinned at this movement, taking it as a signal to push on. He teased and saturated every centimeter of your folds, only pulling away when your gasps were so intense.

With a smirk, he took you in once more. It was the same gaze that he had been giving you in class since last Wednesday. Was it true he was lusting for you as you were for him? Like a mouse caught in his brilliant trap, you whimpered and pleaded for your release. He grinned, pulling away from your center. 

“Do you want me inside you…?

“anything….I just need to cum. Please, professor.” you begged.

“Kylo...when we’re alone.”

You nodded, trying his name out for size on your lips, “Kylo...please.”

With an animalistic attack, he planted several heavy kisses along your neck and collarbone. Sucking a mark into the skin where your clavicle met the base of your neck. Marking you as much more than his student, you were unsure of what this meant for your future. Surely there was no way you could stay in class, this is definitely a disruption of the academic dishonesty policy. More than that, you vowed never to do anything of this sort in your own moral code. 

There was no resisting Kylo. He was beautiful in a sort of broken, dark and alluring type of way. He had captured your mind with his, grasping you by the heart, and pulled you in.

As he kissed his way from your neck, over your chest, and over the softness of your belly, you met his gaze with yours. There was no way you were coming back from this. He fisted himself, admiring your beauty. He found you equally as ravishing as you found him. This expression of lust was primal and irresistible. Teacher and student. Slut.

Pulling you back into the moment, Kylo whispered to you, “tell me you’re ready and you want this,” with a feral look in his eyes.

“Please…”

Without another word, he thrust inside you. With a heavy gasp, your body arches into him, head throwing itself back to stare at the ceiling. Processing the immense pleasure you were feeling immediately, every nerve ending was ignited, hair standing up on every inch of your body.

Reaching a hand out to him, grasping onto his shoulder for purchase. Kylo continued thrusting without relent. Knocking over wooden cups of pens, paperclips, and miscellaneous files to the floor. Maybe your essay with a big, fat fifty-five was in that pile. That’s what got you into this situation, anyway. That, and your uncontrollable lust for your own professor.

Breaking you away from your mental tangent, he upped the intensity of his thrusts, a groan to punctuate each one. He continued at this pace until his next warning came.

“Fuck….! You better fucking be close…”He gritted through clenched teeth, hushed breath falling on the shell of your ear.

“I am...but please, Kylo...touch me…”

“Touch you…? Like you deserve it…?”

“Yes…!”

“Maybe if you didn’t fail your assignments, you wouldn’t be begging for my cock!”

“You brought me here!”

“Because you failed.”

In that moment, it all came crashing back down again.You really were just like the other girls, hoping to get even an ounce of sympathy to make yourself feel better and fill the gap in your chest. Gripping your chin roughly, Kylo forced you to look up at him.

“Your thoughts are loud.”

“What?” you looked at him.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve. You beg for approval. You need it.”

Snarling, Kylo released you from his grip.

“You are so capable. On your own.You just need to find it.”

With a long, grinding thrust, brushing his pubic bone against your clit, you feel overwhelmed with pleasure and approval. The very same approval he vowed he wasn’t giving to anyone. And he had just chosen you.

Desperate hands grabbed at any expanse of skin you had access to. 

“Cmon, sweet girl, you better cum for me…”

“I will…! I’m so close…”

Grunting, his thrusts fell out of tempo and were now hurried and rushed. Pulling your hips to meet his thrusts, you moaned his name into his ear, falling over the precipice. Kylo finished himself off with a punishing pace, hushing your name at the top of his climax.You smirked back at him, grinning at the effect you had on your professor. With this, you confirmed the feeling was mutual. 

After regaining his breath, he pulled his softening cock from you. Stepping back and pulling his now slightly wrinkled slacks back to his waist, buttoning and redoing the belt. You looked back up at him, and slid off his desk. You reached underneath to retrieve your panties from his desk.

“Leave them. They’re mine now.”

“I have to walk all the way across campus. I’m not leaving without them.”

“Yes you are. Guess you’ll have to figure it out.”

“Kylo-”

“It’s Professor Ren,” tucking his dress shirt back into his slacks, “this can’t continue.”

“I assumed that. But why did you say…”

“Hush. Get your things and go. You can’t be seen here for much longer.”

“Professor.”

“Make the corrections on your introductory assignment. I’ll take a look at it and give you partial credit. I think you have potential in this department. Fix it. And find your motivation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go.”

Throwing your messenger bag over your shoulder, filing the paper away inside, slipping your flats back on your feet, and pulling your skirt over your ass one more time, you left his office without another glance back at him. Walking across campus, you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for the future of your so-called relationship with Professor Ren. Would the department catch on to him swinging your grade, letting you slip through the cracks of the rigorous curriculum? Would they force you to leave?

You pushed the thoughts from your head, picking up a snack and a cup of tea from the cafe on your way back to your dorm. Tossing your bag on your bed, collecting your thoughts from the last 45 minutes of your life. You decided to spend the night in, order a pizza, and fix your failed assignment. If you focused hard enough on your studies, you could maybe impress Professor Ren. Maybe there is a future for you in the department.

Independent of him? You weren’t so sure.