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beskarberry · 3 years

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Blue Orchid

Flowers for Ishtar, Chapter 1

(Nonhuman!Mando x f!Reader) [+18!]

You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

Next->

Summary: You discover your hunting partner isn't human, which in a galaxy far, far away isn't that strange until his alien needs become too much for him to hide.

Rating: Explicit as FUCK

Word count: 9.2k

Content warnings: Major kinks: breeding and pregnancy, eggs and oviposition, mpreg/fpreg, alien genitalia. Minor kinks: praise, eating and weight gain. Kink sprinkles: threw some things in like just a tad of sex pollen, hair pulling, spanking, a very brief daddy kink, the idea of a/b/o. There's a few more but if you're familiar with my writing you know what's up. Negatives: body horror, dysphoria.

A/N: Yeah... um... hm... So this is some weird shit but if you enjoyed Garden of Ishtar this will be right up your alley. If that was weird and creepy for you then this is not for you! You have been warned!!!

There’s something strange going on with your partner.

Mando, as he insisted on being called, even though that was clearly not his real name, had been acting differently recently. Though he was an odd one from the get-go, the burly, short-tempered, efficient hunter took some getting used to, but now something about him was off.

It was a strange partnership you’d gotten yourself into, ever since that day you had been sitting in the same cantina booth as him on Nevarro, arguing with Karga over the last available bounty puck.

“Karga, I’m not splitting a puck with this guy.” You’d barked, crossing your arms and leaning back with a huff. Next to you, the armored stranger grunted in agitated agreement, his plated shoulders catching the light as they stiffened. You didn’t know each other, and as far as you could tell the only thing you both had in common was that you both worked for the Guild.

“Well that’s too bad!” The old agent stated, shaking his head. “This is the last one I’ve got until next month, so unless one of you wants to wait until then, this is all I have left. You're going to have to work together as a team.”

“Unless I kill her first.” The iron giant said coldly, not even looking your way.

“I’d like to see you try.” A knife flew from your belt to the table as you buried the tip of it in the faux wood counter, glaring daggers with your eyes at his shiny metal head.

“Easy now, we’re all friends here! Can’t have my two best hunters fighting, or killing each other…”

“Bullshit, I’m the best hunter here, Kargsy, and you know it.” Fury seethed from your words, but it was seemingly lost on the other man. “Tinman here can go fuck himself.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but I fuck yours with it!”

Greef slammed a fist down on the table, making the trio of spotchka glasses bounce and spill. “That’s enough, either you two figure out how to play nice or neither of you will be getting this puck, or any other pucks for that matter! And that’s final!”

That was six months ago.

Despite your differences, the pair of you made for a terrifying duo, between his heavily armored body and your quick, nimble blades, it was like hell itself had released its most deadly demons. The bounty was found, hunted, and captured so quickly and easily that the minute the Razor Crest touched back down on Nevarro you were both excitedly harassing Karga for more.

Your newfound companion didn’t talk much, but what he didn’t say with his words he made up for with his actions. He gave you a little backstory, filling you in on his Mandalorian heritage and what that meant regarding his helmet and armor, and you were fine with the condition that he would never show his face around you. What he did show you was how lethal he could be, a whirlwind of blasters and beskar, an immovable object that coupled neatly with your unstoppable force.

It was poetry in motion.

Bounties fell at your feet like wheat before the scythe, wracking up credits like Kessel-running smugglers which you both blew on firearms and vibroblades as if the galaxy was ending tomorrow. What didn’t go towards guns and ammo went towards food and fuel, the Crest blasting off of Nevarro again and again and again.

As time went on, you slowly started to warm up to each other. You couldn’t really say you were friends, just work partners that happened to be flawlessly efficient at what they did. It was a fine arrangement, but over time small, but significant changes between you started to catch your attention.

You’d pinned a bounty, a large, malodorous Twi’lek that nearly squirmed out from your grasp, only to earn themselves a vicious cold-clocking to the back of their tentacled skull. Breath heavy and eyes burning with aggression, you’d slogged the captive into the carbonite freezer like you were taking out the trash, your wanton strength not going unnoticed by your companion.

“Good job.” Mando had said with a tilt of his helmet, watching your chest heave with adrenaline. “Such a strong verd’ika, can’t wait to see what you do to the next guy.” He’d never complimented you up to that point, if he spoke to you at all. It’d caught you off guard, but in a good way, and you knew right then you wanted to hear him say it again.

So you kept doing a good job.

And you did it on purpose.

The next bounty you held in place while Mando punched their lights out, holding steadfast against the living sledgehammer that was your partner, wincing every time you felt his fists explode against the Aqualish’s exoskeleton. When they’d keeled over, you let them fall to the floor, jumping slightly when Mando patted your shoulder, impressed with your ability to hold your own.

He seemed kind, when he wasn’t retaliating against your snide remarks or beating the living shit out of a bounty. Often when it was just the two of you he was almost soft spoken, asking you if you got enough to eat or if your wounds needed tending to, but not once did he ever make a pass at you.

That was somewhat of a surprise, but you didn’t even know what species he was, so there was a good chance you weren’t even on his sexual radar. He looked human, he obviously wasn’t a Togruta or a Twi’ with that helmet, and he was too tall to be a Rodian or Ugnaught. Too broad to be Gungan.

He was humanly proportioned to a sinful degree, his wide armored shoulders and cinched waist giving you wicked thoughts in the late hours. Even his fucking voice did something to you, the deep, gravelly husk of it almost reverberated in your chest when he spoke, and more than once you wished it would vibrate for you somewhere else.

But you were just two hunters making a living, nothing more.

Recently, however, something had started to change; and it wasn’t something that you liked. You weren’t buddy-buddy, but in the recent weeks his demeanor had started to wane. Mando was always private, taking his meals alone and keeping the fresher door locked when in use, but even when he wasn’t dealing with the necessary inconveniences of being alive he was starting to avoid you more and more.

At first you let him have his space, it was none of your business what was bothering him if he wasn’t going to speak up about it. But as the weeks seemed to drag on his temper began to flare more often, his sentences getting even shorter than they already were, his words sharp and vindictive.

You let it slide until he was rude to a merchant in a Bespin market, demanding more food rations than what he was being offered. Mando had left the market with so much dried meat and canned vegetables that it was falling out of his satchel, leaving a breadcrumb trail of bantha-in-a-can as he stormed back to the ship.

He was eating more often, too, squirreling himself away from your campfires or tucking himself up in either his sleeping cubby or the cockpit; whichever was further away from you at the time. You had your own space in the upstairs part of the Crest where he’d strung a ramshackle hammock for you, but it was so close to her reactors that you frequently woke up sweaty whenever you were in hyperspace.

On one such occasion you decided to sneak over to the ladder hatch when he thought you were sleeping, carefully peeking into the hold below. You could see him in his alcove, but just barely, only his back visible to you from your vantage point. He was eating, a lot. You watched his back and shoulders heave with each desperate bite of food, gorging himself as if he’d been lost in the desert for weeks.

The next cycle he kept his back to you almost constantly, like he was trying to hide something from view, but there were very little private spaces in the ship, especially while the stars streaked by overhead. Try as he might, he couldn’t hide his secret from your prying eyes, though you weren’t surprised with what you saw after watching him eat like there was no tomorrow.

He was gaining weight.

It was just a little at first, maybe just an illusion brought on by some extra layers of clothing; hyperspace was chilly, after all. However it soon became obvious as his extra warmth began to pudge over his belt and upset his armor that it wasn’t all fluff. You checked the larder after he went up to the cockpit to work on the navigation, and you were alarmed to find that almost half of your rations were already used up after having left Bespin only three cycles ago.

Something was definitely up with your partner.

You were watching him now from where you sat on one of the supply crates, toying with a vibroblade while he rigorously cleaned a plate of his armor, his back turned to you. His beskar was spotless, nary a drop of blood or spec of dust remained. He was just trying to distract himself from his newfound curves, but you were starting to get frustrated.

It was time to get to the bottom of this.

“Hey, are you feeling alright? You’ve been acting-”

“I’m fine.” he barked, the aggression behind his words making you jump. You weren’t afraid of him, or he of you. Your partnership was mutually beneficial and respected, and it wasn’t like him to be so short with you in close quarters. You weren’t having any of it.

“That’s crap and you know it, something's up with you, I can tell. You wanna talk about it?” Though he wasn’t looking your way, you cast your eyes at his pudge muffin, hoping he would catch your implications without you having to put it into words.

He said nothing, instead he rose from his seat and hurried up the ladder to the flight deck, sealing the airlock behind him.

You didn’t see him again until the ship dropped from hyperspace.

It was a quiet couple of days, and fucking boring too. Mando didn’t even come down to use the fresher or grab food, which made you nervous after seeing him stress eating like he had been. The Crest touched down on Jedha not far from an enormous crater that the Empire had put there in its heyday, but even when the engines went quiet, the blast door remained sealed.

“Mando? You still alive in there?” You asked tentatively with your ear pressed to the door, rapping your knuckles against the durasteel.

“Fine.”

“Are you coming out?”

There was a long pause, then: “...No.”

You grumbled and donked your head against the door. “Are you gonna make me go get this bounty myself?” He didn’t answer, which unfortunately meant the answer to your question was ‘yes’. You sighed heavily like you’d heard him do innumerable times. “You suck. Do you need anything before I head out?”

“No, thank you verd’ika.”

He was still alive, and talking, so those were both good signs, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with him during your entire hunt. The bail jumper you were after came quietly, which on a regular day would make you angry that you had even wasted fuel for such a lame chase, but you were anxious to get back to your partner.

You marched the delinquent up the ramp and goaded them into the freezer, filling the little cabin with carbonite fog. Though you were making a hell of a racket, you still hollered up the ladder before climbing it, only to find the cockpit empty. Nervously you searched the upper floor, checking everywhere from your hammock to the fuselage, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Jumping down the ladder, you quickly scanned the hold, only to realize that you’d run right past him. The door to his cubby was closed, like it always was even when he wasn’t in it, but outside on the floor near the entrance were piles of empty food tins. Horrified, you checked the larder, your eyes going all the way to the bottom of the crate. He ate everything!

“Mando! I’m back! Open up!” You yelled, pounding your fist on the door, not giving a flying fuck if he was asleep. Something was very, very wrong.

“You’re back already?” He called, his voice weak and hoarse behind the door, making your blood run cold. Oh Maker no, don’t tell me he’s sick.

“Yeah, and I’m worried about you! Open this damn door before I rip it off its rails.”

“You need to leave. You can’t be here.”

“‘Scuse me? Fucker I live here! I’m not-”

“Please, you’re not safe.” He pleaded, his voice sounded broken and desperate, like he was trying to choke something back.

“Not safe? Mando you’re not making any sense, I already took care of the bounty, they-”

“You’re not safe from me!”

A weird mix of emotions flooded through you, first the worry for the health of your partner, the confusion at his panic, and suddenly the rage that burned behind your eyes at the mere notion of him thinking you couldn’t peel him apart like a can of sardines.

You’d had enough.

“Fuck you, chum bucket, this ends right now! Hope you’ve got pants on because I’m coming in!”

“No! Don’t, please!”

“HERE I COME!” You bellowed as you slammed your fist into the glowing button panel on the wall, deaf to his fretful protests. The metal grate rattled as it rolled upwards, and briefly your eyes caught the back of his head right before his helmet sank down over the dark curls that he kept secret. The fact that he even had hair was the least startling thing of all.

What hit you first was the smell.

Inside the sleeping cubby where the Mandalorian was hurriedly scuttling into the deepest reaches, the pungent scent of...something hurtled through your synapses. It didn’t stink, quite the opposite, it smelled delicious. Warm and rich, like honey on fruit sitting out on a beautiful summer day, the alien aroma making your mouth water.

“What the fuck is that smell?” you roared at the man huddled as far away from you as he could get, his body lost to the shadows behind the scattering of armor he had discarded. You didn’t like that one bit, feeling something akin to pity at his doubled-over, armorless frame. You sniffed the air again, taking deep, greedy inhalations and trying to decipher what the fuck was going on. “Are you eating starfruit?! You fuckhole! You’re snacking without me!”

“Please leave me alone.” He grumbled, wedging himself even harder against the back wall. “I’m fine, really, I just want to be alone.”

“Well that’s just too fuckin’ bad, you’re sick, and the least you could do is tell me what’s wrong. I have a right to know if my partner is gonna up and die on me.” He pleaded again, his voice sounding whiny even through his vocorder, but you were having none of it. “I’m coming in.”

“Dammit all, why won't you leave me alone?!” He was yelling now, but in his anger he turned enough towards you that you could see his front, making you gasp.

Big.

“Holy fucking shit, Mando, are you… are you pregnant?!” Hidden by his broad backside no longer, his protruding belly caught the light, jiggling a bit when he wrapped his arms around it.

“No! I mean… sorta…”

“The fuck do you mean sorta?!” you were screaming now, blown away by his swollen guts and the fact that he was very much not pregnant only a few days ago. “What the hell is that then?!”

He was caught now, you’d seen his shame and there was no going back. “They’re… they’re my eggs.”

You stood a moment, staring at him while your mouth flopped uselessly like a dying fish. Welp, there’s your answer, he is not human. There were lots of sentient species in this great big galaxy you called home, many of which produced offspring via eggs, so you weren’t as surprised by that as you were by the suddenness of it. Of... him.

Mando rubbed at his belly, curling in on himself as if doing so would shrink him down into nothingness where he could disappear into oblivion. “Please, it’ll pass, I’ve just… I’ve never had anyone around me while I...grmph... deal with it.”

His groan of pain broke your stare, pumping determination into your legs along with the burn of adrenaline. “Do… do you need help? Is there anything I can do for you?” You leaned forward into the alcove, reaching for him. “Are you in pain?”

“...I-I’m f-fine.” He shirked away from you, avoiding your touch. “Happens every couple of years, just...hmmph… it’s not usually… so much.”

Now you were just plain fascinated, climbing up slowly on your hands and knees, trying to be delicate. “Mando, I’m your partner, I’m not just gonna stand around while you suffer. Tell me what I can do to help.” The warrior flinched hard when your fingers found his shoulder, reflexively protecting his belly. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Cyar’ika, please, I don’t want to...hmmph… do anything that I-I’ll regret.”

“You already ate all our fucking food, what more could you do to piss me off?” You said with a laugh, trying to break the tension. Carefully you brushed your hand along his clothed shoulder, a thin smile dancing over your lips when you felt him shudder.

“You shouldn’t touch me, I’m dangerous.”

“You ain’t shit, and I’ve seen how you’ve stiched my wounds closed, you won’t hurt me. I know you.”

“No you don’t!” He screamed, flipping around all the way to try and shoo you out of the cubby, but his hefty gut kept him rooted in place. You couldn’t help but stare at his rounded middle, his flack coat straining to keep zipped shut as the weight of him wobbled delightfully. It made you laugh.

“Mando! You’re gonna be a m... da... parent! You’re gonna be a parent! Why didn’t you tell me?! I would have baked you a cake.”

“It’s.. it’s never been this bad.” he stuttered, consigning himself to the fact that he was stuck with you. “I grow a clutch every year or so, but it’s usually just a handful of... them.” he hissed with an air of disgust, shame creeping into his voice. “They pass without much issue, but it’s never been this much.”

“What do the other Mandalorians do when this happens?”

He shook his head, guarding his middle. “Mandalorian isn’t a race, it’s a creed. The Mandalorians rescued me after an army of droids killed my parents and everyone else in my village. I… I don’t know what species I am, and neither does my clan. There’s no record of my village, or where they found me, and I can’t find anything on the holonet about… this.” His visor tilted down to his tummy. “I might be the last of my kind.”

“Mando, that's terrible, but I’m sure there’s more of you somewhere. There’s gotta be! Maybe if you took off your helmet I could see-”

“No, helmet stays on. I don’t need to add the indignity of a broken creed to this mess. Now please, mesh’la I’m begging you, lock me in here and let me ride this out alone. I don’t know if I could live with myself if I hurt you.”

You scuttled closer on your knees until you were right up against him, cautiously reaching out towards his swell. His visor snapped at you, his body flinching harder into the corner, but he was trapped. “Why do you think you’ll hurt me?” You whispered as your palm met the straining fabric cradling his shameful secret.

He grabbed your wrist so hard you felt your bones grind from the strength of his grip. “Because…” he growled, the timbre of it so low you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Because I don’t know what I am, but I know I need to put these eggs somewhere, and I want...I need to put them… inside…” He trailed off when a painful contraction shook his body, making him let go of you to hold himself together. “Get out now! It’s starting… please I can handle this alone but if you’re near me… I don’t know what I’ll do!”

“Shut’cher gob and tell me what to do, and don’t tell me to leave because I won’t!” You didn’t know jack shit about human births, let alone alien gestation, but you’d been through some fucked up situations, what’s one more for good measure? “I’m guessing you need to get your pants off.” His breathing was heavy, his helmet tilting with each laboured heave, but he nodded and started to fumble with the zipper of his trousers.

Your heart leapt to your throat. In the darkness of your hammock you’d imagined what it would be like to undress him, taking each of his beskar plates off and trailing your fingers down his tight clothes, revealing the man underneath like unwrapping a gift. With your fingers lost between your legs you’d pictured his muscular shoulders and broad chest, maybe even a trail of dark hair that led you all the way down his beefy abdomen to his thick, heavy cock. You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

His gloves and his girth were giving him a hard time, so diligently you stepped in to help him undress. Your nimble fingers found the button and zipper with ease, the heat of his groin making your cheeks flush rosy pink, and then red when you pulled the zipper across the bulge in his pants and flooded the tiny nook with the perfume of his sex.

The hair surprised you, you didn’t think that an egg-bearing creature would even have curls, but there they were. Dark brown and soft against your fingertips, growing from lovely, sun-bronze skin, but that was the last of his human traits from there on. Ultimately, you were expecting a cock, horrified by the implications of what that meant in this situation, but as the zipper’s teeth continued to split, your eyes were greeted with something that made your guts flip.

It was fucking blue.

The thing sitting heavily between his legs was the prettiest ocean blue you had ever seen, with coils of deep indigo veins running up it’s length between bands of bioluminesce. Long, thick, and glowing, Mando’s half-hard trouser meat sprang out of his open pants, a relieved sigh wheezing through his modulator. It was shaped like a wang dangler all the way up to the head, but there it was something else.

At his tip a circle of petal-shaped protrusions cinched together like the blossom of a flower right before it bloomed. The knobbed end of his thingy wept with clear juices, beading deliciously from between each little bud. Your eyes were locked to a particularly fat drop of precum as it slicked down his length to his base where you found another feast for your eyes.

A hole.

He didn’t have balls, you guessed they were somewhere inside him, instead he had a fat, juicy cunt, his quivering cock growing from where a clit would be on a human. It was just as alien as his length, a dark cobalt that lightened to vibrant teal around sharp teeth that lined his widely spread folds. Those rightfully made you nervous, and fucking confused. What the hell are those supposed to latch on to? Me?!

“I’m disgusting, I know.” He whispered, turning away from you to study the wall while you studied his excitables.

“What? No you’re not, you’re… you’re beautiful.” He snapped back towards you, his visor searching your star-struck eyes for the hint of a lie, but there wasn’t one. He was looking at you, but you weren't looking at him, you were looking at him, straight through his groin into his vulnerable soul. There was just so much, and you wanted to touch all of it. Reflexively you licked your lips, wondering if he tasted as good as he smelled. Your fingers crept forward, hovering inches from his cerulean length. “Can I?”

A sharp inhale echoed in the cubby, followed by a stark nod. “Be gentle… it’s... argh… sensitive!”

“Shhh, Mando, I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you.” Your fingertips met his heated flesh, making him shudder and groan. His strange length twitched from your touch, making another pearl of precum shimmer from the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking the velvety length that weighed heavily against your palm. His helmet hit the wall with a deep, guttural moan, sending molten waves of heat to your own growing need.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck mesh’la...your hands are amazing.” The man purred, letting his arms fall from his belly to his sides where his fists tangled in the threadbare sheet. His hips thrust upwards into your slow tugs, rutting into your palm. In the tight quarters the mouthwatering scent of honeyed fruit grew stronger until you were sucking down your own spit to keep it from flooding your mouth.

“Hehe, yeah? You like this?” You flicked your wrist in languid spirals, running your thumb over the weeping blossom to drag warm slick down his length and towards your second goal. His toothy slit parted for you as you got closer, the pearly white fangs curling away from you safely. With one hand still on his beef, you rubbed your fingertips around his flushed hole, sinking a digit down to the knuckle.

“Yes.” he moaned breathlessly, his womb jiggling when he convulsed from your touch. You sank another finger inside, scissoring him open while you fisted his cock. “K-keep doing that and... and…” His heels scooted on the mattress when he clenched around you, his swelling length pulsating in your hand. A needy whine busted out of his modulator, and between your sunken digits you felt something grow.

“Go ahead, Mando, come on my hand, or in my hand, I don’t care. That’s a good boy.” He bucked into your steady thrusts, lost in the combination of filling and being filled. His walls fluttered around your fingers, and you felt something press against you when he bore down, but instead of something popping out of his cunt, something went up his length.

*Pop!*

From the tip of his spear, a bright orange ball sprang from him, surprising you so much you let go of his throbbing shaft and pulled your fingers from his slit. Excitedly you plucked the egg from where the halo of petals parted, presenting the orb to you like a priceless gem. “You did it! Look, Mando, it’s a… ball! Congratulations.” You were beaming, so proud of yourself for midwifing him through the process, but he was shaking his head.

“There’s more… and… and I’m starting to get desperate. You got me started, I can take it from here. Thank you for your help.”

“I’m not leaving til you’re done, but let me go find a bucket or something to… oh no!” In your hand the soft shelled egg started to dissolve and wither in the dry air, turning into goo that dribbled down your arm. “Oh shit! Oh shit Mando I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know w-what happened!”

“No no… It's alright.” He shook his head, bringing a hand up to caress his swell. “They never make it. It’s ok though, it's not like they’re fertilized. Please leave me now, your hands aren’t going to tide me over for long, and I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

“You keep saying that! I don’t understand, why do you think that you’ll-”

“Because I want to breed you.” The singular black eye of his visor snapped viciously towards you, making you pale. “I’m sorry, but it’s all I can think about. It’s been getting worse the closer I’ve gotten to my heat, but I don’t want to do that to you, I respect you too much. Please… forgive me.” He looked away from you shamefully, but his luminous length was still pulsing with the rapid beating of his heart. “I think being around you is why I’m so full, you’re just so damn beautiful… a-and I want you.”

Maybe it was the sickenly-sweet spice that he was putting off, or the cum soaking your hands, or even the vulgar fantasies that you imagined to yourself in the night, but you were intrigued. “You wanna do what now?”

“Breed you.” He growled, his voice so dark and sinful everything inside you clenched around nothing. “Fucking stars ever since you stabbed the cantina table I’ve wanted to be inside you. Feel your pretty little pussy squeezing me, hear those sweet moans you make when you’re alone at night… yes I can hear you. You’re louder than you think you are. But I want to be the one making you scream.” His growls turned to forced laughter. “I wish I’d gotten to before...this.”

“I don’t mind this…” You hummed, dragging your fingers along his velvety length, but he caught your wrist again, shaking his head.

“Stop, before I can’t hold back anymore.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to hold back.” You batted your lashes at him and bit your lip, leaning seductively towards his hunkered body. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t know what I’d do to you, what my… ugh… eggs… would do to your body.”

“Maybe we should… find out?”

“You don’t know what you're asking.”

“Neither do you.” With that you rolled forward to kiss at his big blue eel, making him curse out your name and grab a fistful of your hair.

“Mesh’la…”

You hummed and lapped at his crown, his nectar tasting even better than it smelled. Sweet and succulent, driving you crazy with need. Your venomous tongue could be so kind when it wanted to be, swirling around his knobbled head and flicking at his frenulum. Beneath you he was a mess, writhing and bucking with desperation. Lips slick with spit, you sank your mouth as far down as you could take him without gagging, fisting the rest with one hand and teasing his cunt with the other.

Fingers digging into your scalp, Mando fought the urge to fuck your throat raw, your obscene sucking threatening to toss him right over the edge. You hollowed your cheeks and spun your tongue, lapping around each sensitive bean and plunging into his slit to drink him down.

His muscles swelled and clenched with another pass, and you barely were able to pull your mouth away when a new sphere spat out his tip, rolling away from you to melt elsewhere. “Mando, they’re going to waste, what are we going to do about that?”

“Take your fucking clothes off so I can fuck them into you, pretty girl.” He was gone, the husk of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me breed you properly, make you mine. Show you what it means to be mated by a Mandalorian.”

You obeyed, rocking back on your haunches to peel your shirt away, releasing your breasts into the hot, steamy space. The black swath of void where his eyes should be drank in the sight of you as if you were the last glass of water on Tatooine, his hand coming up to pinch at your pert nipple. “These are beautiful. I’ve dreamed about these for so long, but they’re so much better in person.”

“They taste better, too.” You crawled over top of him, your knees in between his, waving the heavy dewdrops in front of his armored face. “You wanna?”

“My creed…”

“Party pooper. Fine, then you better help me open up, you’re packin’ more than I think I can fit.” You’d taken lovers before, once you’d even taken a Wookie on a drunken dare, and if it wasn’t for the persistent wet dog smell it might have been the best sex you’d ever had. But Mando was thick, and even thicker when his cock swelled to push out an egg.

“Are you really ok with this? You’re not just saying…”

“Mando~” You purred, pressing your softness against his pulsating length, shivering when you felt his fangs scrape your thighs. “Breed me. They’ll just melt back out anyway, what’s a little...fun?”

He reached a hand up tentatively to your face, his helmet shaking slightly from side to side while he hunted in your eyes for any resistance, any clue that you were just saying that to make him feel better, but he found none.

“How did I get so lucky…”

“You’re about to get even more lucky.” You teased, taking his hand from your cheek to pry the black and yellow glove off, chucking it somewhere behind you. The flesh of his hand matched the flesh of his groin, a soft golden tone that looked like it was kissed by the sun, but not once had you ever seen him bare an inch. It was also very human, looking much like your own, save for the length and thickness of his fingers and the dark hair that grew from his knuckles. They were very much the hands of a man.

Yay!

Your pants fell away next, disappearing out of the cubby and onto the floor with the collection of empty ration tins and discarded armor. Naked as the day you were born, you clambered over him and flopped against his side, letting your legs fall open. “Touch me, Mando, get me nice and ready to be bred.” He growled against you, rolling on his side and cradling you to his chest so he could easily sink his fingers into your fluttering heat.

“Fucking stars, you’re soaked. This all for me?” You nodded and whined, your eyes rolling back when he dove one finger inside, then a second, curling them upwards to find that hidden patch of nerves you could never really reach on your own. “Gonna get you nice and open, make you cum so you can take my clutch. Would you like that, mesh’la, want me to fill you up? Swell your belly full?”

You mewled at the debauchery of it all, blissed out of your mind as he finger fucked you relentlessly. His fingers sank into you all the way to the knuckle, his thumb drawing tight, diligent circles on your clit. Mando snaked his free arm under your neck, pulling you in close to his muscular body and leaning his helmet against your brow. The cold metal burned against your sweating forehead, the steam of his breath coiling out from under the sharp iron edge with every ragged breath.

“That’s it, come for me, beautiful. Almost there.” Your nails dug into his clothed shoulders and made you realize he was way more dressed than you were. Need to fix that. With shaking knees you squirmed and writhed on his slick hand until he brought you over the edge, your walls trying to break his fingers as you came, drenching the thin sheets. “Good girl, such a perfect little cunt. Give me one more, cyar’ika.” All his gentleness evaporated as he thrust into you, his thumb pressed to your sensitive button and making you fall apart all over again.

“Fuck me, Mando, please! I want you in me, you’re not the only one with wet dreams, y’know.” He rumbled a laugh and pulled his arm out from under your neck and his fingers from your sopping mess, dragging the wet of it across your bare thigh. Hauling himself up, he moved until he was between your legs, pulling his remaining glove off and working to undo his flack.

With bated breath you watched him hurriedly undress, wondering what other fun alien treats he was keeping from you. As the dark fabric fell away, your eyes were gifted with the sight of his body, though besides the wandering blue tiger stripes and his obvious non-human bits, he was remarkably close to a man.

Except for the parts of him that were glowing.

Strings of faint teal lights followed the flow of his body, mixed intermittently with yellow stars. It wasn’t enough to illuminate the little alcove, but it was a beautiful sight nonetheless, a constellation of stars you could call your very own.

His chest was wide and muscular, a trail of dark brown hair dusting down his sternum and over the swell of his middle. His arms and shoulders looked like tree trunks, ribbons of countless scars marring his flesh with shimmering whites and pinks. Pushing his pants all the way off gave you an even better view, though he had considerably more glow streaks further down his legs, spanning from the sapphire spire around his hips.

He was fucking gorgeous.

What does his face look like, then?

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?” He asked sweetly, grabbing his beast and dragging the leaking head against your thirsty little cunt. You bucked your hips up to him, trying to notch him in your entrance, but he pressed his tip into your clit to make you writhe. “Tell me, I need to hear it.”

“Yes, Mando, now please please fuck...me!!” He snapped forward and thrust his appendage into you, bottoming right out even though his full tummy was in the way. He held himself still, his body shivering with delight as your excited walls rippled around him. Deep inside you felt the little buds at his tip teasing at the tight ring of muscle that protected your innermost sanctum, politely asking for entry.

“Fuck-ing Maker, I knew you would feel good, but...ah… so much better than I ever imagined.” You giggled at him, reaching out and rubbing the taut flesh of his abdomen where it sat heavily against your own, rocking your hips side to side. His fingers dug into the skin of your knees with a broken curse, trying to hold you still. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna…”

“What? This?” You arched your hips into his, trying to coax him into gear. “I didn’t know you were such a tease, tinman.” His helmet vibrated with a growl before he was sliding himself out, making sure you felt every inch of his length drag along your walls. The head of it almost managed to drop out, sitting tantalizingly at your gates before thrusting into you with reckless abandon.

You shrieked, impaled on his otherworldly spire again and again, the noise of it wetly echoing in the cubby. Above you he grunted with the strain, hooking his elbows under your knees and going to town. You were helpless, head rolling back, eyes fluttered shut as he filled you over and over again, moaning out his name.

Though he was lost in the heat of the moment, he wished the name on your lips was his real name, the one he had sequestered away when he took his oaths. Din. He fantasized about it in the night, the short syllable tumbling from your full lips, wet from sucking him dry. Din! He wanted to snuff out the sound of it with his own mouth, capturing your tongue and tasting you fully, plundering the hot wet hole that would so beautifully sing his song.

“Din!”

But Mando would have to do.

For now.

Both of you could feel he was getting close to something, his thrusts quickening with his breath. You felt your heartbeat gallop in your chest, thundering against the walls of its cage with excitement. He was gasping, struggling to pull oxygen in through the iron that protected his face. Hips snapped against yours, the slap of skin sounding obscene in the little space. You arched your back and bore down on him, your coiled muscles milking out his release.

And then you fucking felt it.

The clever little buds on his tip stuffed themselves into the cradle of your body, teasing your cervix open and leaving something behind. Inside you felt the soft little ball swell your womb sweetly, giving you a feeling of fullness you’d never experienced before. You keened from the sensation, bringing your hands up to your belly, searching for your treasure.

“Are you alright? Am I hurting you?” Mando asked urgently between broken breaths, a weathered palm coming up to caress your face. You tittered and nodded, his relieved sigh felt through your legs and stomach.

“Got any more for me, big boy?” You purred, dragging your nails through the soft hair on his bulging abdomen where he obviously did.

“You’re going to ruin me, cyar’ika.” The pulsating length stuffed inside you slid out slowly, stringing a line of precum from your slick heat to his flushed blue tip. “Get on your knees and I’ll show you how much more there is.”

Scrambling out from under him, you flipped yourself over like a slutty little pancake, presenting your ass in front of him to feast on with his eyes. The rough pads of his fingers dug viciously into your fleshy globes, making both of you groan. “Gonna give you all of me, beautiful. Tell me you want that?” He was trying to be dirty, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart flood with honeyglow.

“I want it, tinman, I wanna be full!”

A dark, lecherous laugh rumbled behind you while he lined himself up, rubbing himself over your slit before plunging in. Stars flashed behind your eyes when he hit your deepest reaches again, making you drop to your elbows. He circled the bones of your hips with his hands, squeezing and rubbing at your waist while you adjusted to the new angle. Impatiently you clenched around him, earning yourself a stinging swat on your backside that made you squeal.

“Bad girl, you have to wait.” He growled behind you, making you whine and earning yourself another spanking that was followed by a soothing palm. “You gonna be a good girl while I breed you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“-snrt!-” You were having too much fun now, begging underneath him for friction with a roll of your hips, giggling through the cock-dumb grin on your face. “I’ll be good~”

“I know you will.” He slid forward, the angle hitting something destructive inside you, and you could tell he felt it. Memorizing your insides, he rocked forward again and again, building you up higher and higher to make you squirm. Fisting the sheets you cried when the lightning cracked up your spine, your cunt squeezing the life out of him and soaking him through. Your orgasm sucked another egg from his cock, the gentle weight sitting pretty next to the first.

“More…” you mumbled into the mattress, curving your ass up and brushing the underside of his swell. “Please…”

“You’re fucking perfect, mesh’la, so perfect for me.” His voice behind you sounded wildly different, lacking the gravelly modulation you’d grown used to, replaced with a rich baritone that tied your guts up in knots. Curiosity almost got the better of you, but before you could turn around to look at his bare face he covered your eyes, his broad palm spanning the entire width of your face. “No peeking. Be a good girl or you won’t get any more.”

He set his empty helmet down by your head, giving you something to look at if you could keep your eyes open, but his filthy cadence made your eyeballs roll back til they were gawking at your brain. Mando plowed you like his life depended on it, his fuckstick swelling inside your walls with each pass of his spend.

Reaching back, you rubbed your steadily-filling middle, the weight of his brood already making you show. Your devious digits kept going, fingertips teasing around where he melded into you, your lips stretched tightly around him. He jumped when you stuffed your hand back even further, careful not to catch on his goddamn crotchteeth to finger his cunt.

“Mesh’la!” He cried, bucking into you and pushing at least three more eggs into your womb with a single thrust. Above you he curled against your spine, his belly flattening while yours continued to swell. His arms left your hips to snake up your body, crossing between your breasts like a seatbelt and hauling you up off your elbows to his chest. Buckle up, buttercup! His sweaty pecs stuck to your spine while he kissed at the side of your neck.

You wanted so badly to look.

Instead you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the passionate kisses he pressed to your skin, his teeth grazing the tender flesh under your jaw. The fact that he even had lips crossed a few dozen species off of your list of possibilities, and even more when you felt the tickle of facial hair. Mando’s heated kisses tracked up your throat to nibble at your ear, his thrusting getting messy behind you.

“Can you cum for me again, beautiful? I wanna feel it.” The hand between your breasts slid up to your throat, pressing ever so gently while the second found your clit and spun devious little circles. His scruffy beard scraped your shoulder as you writhed on him, tears springing to your eyes with your crashing orgasm. “Mmph, that’s my good girl. So fucking perfect!”

His hips stuttered, slapping against your ass with a final burst, the fill of him swelling your middle to capacity, bouncing with fullness. Heavy, desperate breaths puffed against your skin as he came down from his high, caressing you with his hands and the sharp point of his chin; mumbling praises in your ear. “I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, look at you…”

At his purring you flickered an eye open, looking down past your breasts at where you were swollen with his clutch as if you were swollen with child. His broad palms danced along the taut flesh, sliding from your precious tummy to the drops of your breasts, his hums of contentment rumbling between you. His chest and abdomen were flush with your spine, his body returned to its natural shape while yours had changed so drastically.

Between your legs his spent cock throbbed, making your combined arousal drip down onto the destroyed mattress when it softened and released. You whined from the loss, whining louder when he sneaked his fingers inside, feeling your stretched walls and musing about how wonderful you felt.

You reached forward for his helmet, handing it back to him and trying not to look at the warped reflection of his face in its sloping surfaces. He took it from you gently, letting it sink over his face so you could get off of your knees. You flopped heavily over on your butt, sitting upright and petting your full womb with a blissed out look on your face.

He laid next to you, holding you close to his body as if you were his cute little wife expecting your first baby together, and not a pair of interspecies hunters giving in to your primordial needs. You leaned against him, sighing contently and watching his serpent retreat into his body, the rows of teeth biting together and showing you why he didn’t wear codpiece with his armor.

“That’s fuckin’ weird, dude.” You laughed, brushing a fingertip along the glistening enamel.

He winced behind you. “I know, I’m sorr-”

“No, I like it.” you crooned, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “That was fun. How often did you say this happens?”

“About once a year, but… uh… I can still get hard, without a clutch, if that’s what you’re asking?” You nodded with a laugh, curling up against his side so your full womb rested on his hip. He sighed contentedly, drawing circles on your belly with his fingers. “How does this feel? Does it hurt?”

“No, not at all, actually feels good. Feels full. I like it, I’m almost sad that it’s not gonna last.”

“Me too, you look so good like this. I could get used to it.” You hummed in agreement, shifting your legs apart so that when the eggs withered and turned to goo they could easily make their way out.

Should be any second now.

The two of you waited, laying together in post-coital bliss, just enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies, tracing scars and stars, exploring the wonders you’d kept secret from each other.

You waited.

And waited.

The minutes ticked by, at first it was a blessing, giving you time to bask in the afterglow together, but as the minutes turned to quarter hours, then halfs, you started to get worried. “Mando? I can still feel them, they’re not breaking down.”

“I’m sure they will, they always do.”

“Ok…”

They didn’t.

Hours went by, and even after waddling to the fresher shower and trying to squat them out, the eggs remained. You got washed up, half morbidly, half exuberantly watching the way the fresher water dripped from your belly while you cleaned up.

Outside the shower you toweled yourself off, taking extra steps to dry under the swell of your womb, but you struggled to reach all the way around. Mando knocked on the door politely before letting himself in, dressed only in his helmet and pants. Dutifully he took the towel from you and got to the places you couldn't reach while you were carrying his potential young.

It was surprisingly intimate, maybe even more so than being stuffed full of his length. He started on your legs, between your thighs and up to their apex, then softly wiped at your tummy and hips. His deft hands dragged the towel under each breast, then your shoulders and arms, then lastly your neck; draping the wet fabric around you like a cloak when he saw your bunching brows. You looked nervous.

“We’ll figure it out, mesh’la, I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He stated with determination, brushing his thumb down the curve of your cheek and turning your eyes to meet his visor. Your hair was still wet, and now so were your eyes, the first twinges of fear creeping into their corners. He didn’t like what he saw. “Close your eyes, lovely girl.”

You did, squeezing back the mist that was starting to form. He let go of you, and you heard the sound of something heavy and metallic being set down on the sink. The towel around your shoulders was lifted over your head, draping it over your face. You were about to give him hell, mad that he would want to hide your face when you were clearly getting emotional, but instead you felt the wet fabric being lifted as he joined you underneath.

Then he kissed you.

Warm, petal-soft lips pressed against your cold wet ones, suddenly surprising you before you melted into him. His kiss was as gentle as his hands that were making their way up to your jaw, holding you steady while he slotted his mouth to yours. He felt human, the edges of his teeth dull like yours, thankfully not sharp like the ones between his legs. Tasted human, too.

You kissed him back, darting your tongue out with an experimental flick, licking his plush lower lip. He inhaled sharply, caught off guard by your forwardness. His fingers coiled around the back of your head, tangling in your wet hair as his kisses grew in intensity. The smooth muscle of his mouth danced with your own, letting you both taste each other for the first time.

“Ner cyar’ika, I’ve waited so long for this.” he purred against your lips, his words heavy with adoration. He kissed you again, pulling you into himself hungrily and tickling your nose with his mustache. Your own hands came up, slowly dragging over the expanse of his chest to the sinewy length of his neck, and finally to the edge of his jaw.

“Can I touch your face, Mando? I won’t look with my eyes.” He nodded against your lips, his nose bumping the side of yours. Cautiously you wandered your fingertips along the edge of his jaw, the stiff bristles catching under your nails. He shivered with need when you scratched him, carding through his scruff like you were taming a massif.

His sharp jawline led you up his cheeks, their softness dusted with erratic bristles. You ran your thumbs under his eyes, exploring his cheekbones and the creases that bordered his large eyes. Pressing your forehead to his and pulling your lips away, you circled your thumbs down the sides of his well-defined nose to the line of hair above his lips. The creases that your hands found told you he wasn’t a young man, but he probably wasn’t too far beyond your age either.

And you imagined him to be very handsome.

It wasn’t until your hands found his ears that you remembered he wasn’t the same species as you. They were pointed, and sensitive if his little moans of pleasure were anything to go by.

“I don’t ever want you to see those, they’re ug- oh!” You cut off his self depreciation to tilt his head between your hands, pressing a kiss to each of his ears with a seductive puff of steam. “St-stop, you’re giving me goosebumps.”

“Stop being so mean to yourself, buckethead, only I can be the judge of that, and I bet they're cute!” He laughed, the sound warm and brassy, but not enough to distract you from your current predicament. “What… what are we going to do about… this.” You took each of his hands in yours and set them on your full belly, letting him caress his handiwork.

He sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead in the dark of the towel, his lashes brushing your skin when he dropped his brow to yours. You heard his lips part with a smile, imagining the way the wrinkles around his eyes would bunch, wistfully hoping that one day you could see them for yourself.

“Mesh’la I-… I have no idea."

Next->

If you liked this fic, check out Garden of Ishtar! It's chapter 9 in a series but can be read stand-alone. Enjoy~

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #self insert #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #smut

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ameliajessicawilliamspond · 3 years

Text

PART 1

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"Where is this blasted thing?" Luke complained, opening the map for the tenth time in the last 10 minutes.

"Same distance as the last time you checked the map." Din mused. Luke pursed his lips and closed the map, pulling his coat tighter around himself. He and Luke had done many missions together, both searching for what the remnants of the fallen Empire wanted with Grogu and the Jedi, as well as Luke's never ending search for more information on the strange ancient religion.

"You alright?" Din asked. Luke had been fidgety and testy the whole trip to Kajimi and had become downright orny ever since they stepped foot on the planet.

Luke huffed in frustration, shoving his nose into his scarf. "I'm not a fan of the cold." he mumble from beneath the fabric.

"Yeah I picked up on that." Din said, an amused huff escaping his lips.

Luke shot the Mandalorian a hard side glance, like a teenager throwing a fit. Luke always kept himself so stoic and distant, a protective mask from everyone around him. Seeing it slip because of some cold weather made his heart do a funny little flip. Yet the other side of him knew it obviously upset the Jedi so he stopped pressing him. He slipped his own scarf off and wrapped it around the jedi's neck. Luke looked at him incredulously but the Mandalorian just shrugged. "I run warm."

A while on -and lots of huffing and puffing from the Jedi later- they finally began to approach their destination.

"The holocron should be inside this cavern." Luke mumbled from beneath the scarves, nose burried in the holomap.

"Waterfall." Din corrected.

"...Cavern." Luke repeated, not looking up.

"Yeah...under a waterfall." Din said, pointing ahead. Luke finally looked up and saw what Din meant. a cavernous mouth to a cave, beneath a huge, freezing waterfall, billowing into a cold, deep lake.

Luke's blue eyes bulged. "Kriff."

The pair snuck up the side of the embankment with just enough distance to be able to avoid falling into freezing water below.

Luke hit a slippery patch amd let out a yelp as his foot slipped. Din reacted quickly, yanking the Jedi back up to the snowy embankment, the momentum putting them nearly nose to nose with each other. Din's breath seemed to catch in his throat as Luke sucked in a breath himself, his bright eyes locked with Din's visor.

"No falling behind." Din said, shaking Luke from whatever stupor just grasped him. The jedi nodded and they pressed forward, carefully approaching the ice cold waterfall.

"Seems there's no going around it." Din said, pressing forward but Luke grabbed his arm.

"Wait." he said, voice demanding yet gentle as the jedi stepped in front of him, eyes rolling back in his head. His hand shot up, palm open toward the falls.

Din stared in awe as the waters parted like a curtain. "Go." Luke said, eyes still closed. Din slipped around him and jumped into the hidden cave. Luke followed like a blind man, hand extended and eyes closed, but shoulders squared with determination, confidence in each step. Once in, he finally opened his eyes and dropped his hand. The waters slammed shut behind them.

Luke spotted Din staring, unmoving at him. "What?" He asked, slightly bashful.

What could he say? He was in awe of Luke and his abilities? Luke always surprised him? He was so beyond what Din could ever be himself? Luke was...Luke was amazing. "I wish you could teach me that." Is what he ended up settling on.

Luke let out a small laugh, lips parting into a smile and despite the cold, Din felt a warmth spread through his chest. "Come on," Luke said, taking the lead. "The holocron should be straight ahead."

They finally were right on top of where the holocron should be. But in its place was a giant hole in the side of the cave wall where it had been hidden. Luke dropped his head. "No..." he whispered to the ground.

"Smugglers or pirates, most likely. The Spice Runners of Kajimi are in this area." Din said, examining the square hole.

"They probably sold it by now." Luke said, arms flailing in an 'of course' sort of gesture. "Its long gone, probably has been for a long time."

"Not nessesarily. These are new markings on this. It would have been within the last week they found this. " Din said, trying to ease the already frustrated Jedi's mind. Luke rubbed his forehead. "If we find their camp we may be able to relocate the device."

"...Alright Fine." Luke said, biting his cheek, clearly irritated. "We're never getting off this frozen rock." He mumbled, rubbing his arms as be began to march back to the mouth of the waterfall.

"Hey," Din called, rushing to block the jedi's path. Luke avoided his helmet's gaze as Din finally grasped him by the shoulders. "Luke, talk to me."

Luke fidgeted in his grasp, looking anywhere but his visor. His eyes finally settled on the destroyed hole where the holocron had been, eyes distant.

"I'm from a desert planet." He began. "Tattooine."

"I'm familiar." Din said, earning a slightly surprised glance from the jedi.

"I'm...I'm already not used to the cold. And then later on in the war we were stationed on Hoth." Luke shifted from one foot to the other, obviously contimplating if he wanted to continue. "I was out on last patrol when I was attacked by a Wampa."

"You were attacked by a Wampa and survived?" Din questioned.

Luke just shrugged, and Din could tell that, somehow, being attacked by a kriffing Wampa wasn't even at the worst part of this story. "I escaped, but by the time I did it was approaching nightfall and the winds had picked up. There was snow everywhere, all I could see was white in front of me and I...I was so cold..." Luke pulled out of Din's grasp and turned away. "I fell. I fell and didn't get back up. Ben wanted me to go to Dagobah but... I was so sure I was going to die there." Din stepped forward, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Han found me. Stuffed me in his dead Tauntaun to keep warm while he built a shelter. I smelled like rotting flesh for a week...and..." Luke sniffed, pulling himself together. "...And the next day the Empire attacked and I got shot down. My co-pilot Dak didn't make it... I lost a good friend." Luke said, looking at Din, eyes distant.

Din spun Luke around and pulled him in for a tight hug. "I'm sorry. That sounds awful." He offered.

Luke tensed for a moment before melting into the hug. They stayed like that for a long time before Luke finally broke the silence. "You do run warm." He mumbled into his shoulder.

Din laughed. "Come on, let's find those blasted smugglers and get off this rock."

They went back to the cave entrance, Luke reaching foward, parting the waters once again. Din stepped through before Luke's eyes snapped opened and yelled, "No, Din, WAIT--!"

Before Luke could finish, something wrapped around his leg and yanked him into the lake below.

Din sunk below the water, waterlogged vision spotting a large monster with at least 5 tentacles keeping him below the surface. He reached for his blaster, shooting at the monster. It made a noise and the grip on his leg disappeared. Din swam with all his might back to the top, grabbing on to Luke's extended hand.

Another tentacle shot up, latching around his torso and pulling him below once again. Above him, he saw a green laser appear as the jedi ignited his lightsaber as another tentacle shot up above the water toward him. He sliced at it, making the thing bellow once again. The grip on Din loosened but not enough for him to pull out of the tight grasp.

A splash from above caught the Mandalorian's attention. Luke was swimming right toward the creature. Din squirmed and fought to free his arms so he could shoot it again but he was weakening by the second. Through greying vision he watched the Jedi reach forward and touch the monster's head, the scarf Dinnhad given him dangling from his back pocket. Din felt the grip around him loosen too late as water filled his lungs and his vision went dark.

The next thing he knew he was back on the bank of the lake. Luke was above him, coat missing, soaking wet, and leaning over his him, lips having just left his own. Din thought he had to be dreaming or dead until he felt the aggressive shoving on his chest. His ringing ears picked up on Luke begging him to breathe.

He tried to inhale, but instead was greeted with a coughing fit, water spilling from his lips before finally managing a small, shaky breath.

"Oh thank the Force." Luke breathed out, head dropping. "We need to get you somewhere warm." Luke said, pulling the coat he once wore up Din's chest, tucking it around him.

Before Din could attempt to object, something grabbed the Jedi's attention. His head whipped to the side and his eyes widened. "Kriff!" Luke shoved Din's helmet back on him before throwing his arms up in a defensive stance, hand shaking violently. "Please, we don't want any trouble. He hurt! He needs to go somewhere warm! Please!" Luke begged, but his pleas seemed to land of deaf ears. Hand decended on the Jedi and pulled him from where he kneeled next to the Mandalorian. "No, no!!" Luke yelled as he was dragged away from Din's side.

Din shifted, rolling onto his stomach, trying to call for Luke but instead earning himself another coughing fit. From his new position he could see Luke strugglnng witn a large group of people. Din couldn't tell if Luke was holding back because he didn't want to reveal his identity to these scoundrels or because he was still trying to beg them for help, but either way the large group finally overpowered the jedi. They pinned his arms out wide and his head was shoved violently to the side, a needle shoved into his neck. Luke tensed before slumping in their grasp. Din tried to reach for something, anything, any weapon but couldn't find the strength to even lift his hand.

"Leave that one. He's as good as dead." The group laughed.

Din watched as Luke was carried away like he was nothing more than stolen loot.

"L...Luke..." Din managed, before his frozen body slipped into unconsciousness.

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REQUESTED TAGGED: @theonlyredcar

Comment below if you would like to be tagged in part 2!

#dinluke #star wars #prompt: almost drowning/hypothermia/PTSD #part 1 #fanfiction #fanfic #luke skywalker #din djarin #din djaren #the Mandalorian #mandalorian #poor din #luke gets in next #sorry in advance #fun stuff too and soft moments #but also pain #stay tuned

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slutdery · 3 years

Text

See you looking right here, don’t hesitate.

make a wish series.

A series (for each member of the unit) about their lines in make a wish (english version).

pairing | taeyong x fem!reader

genre | smut, fluff (ig)

words | 3.8k

warning | knife play, degradation, one time sex, dom!taeyong, mature content, oral (m receiving).

author’s note | my native language isn’t english, so if there’s something wrong with anything i wrote tell me and i’ll edit it...

You know that one wish? That one u'd die to fulfill? Everyone have plenty of them, but you had the chance to make one of them come true and was still difficult to believe that this invitation came to you.

You were invited to one of the most famous ball around Korea, that's something to celebrate. 'Why?' well, that's actually a simple question for you to answer. Being a photographer had its privileges. They asked you to photograph a ball with the richest people all around Asia. It was a dream to attend to that kind of event, but only selected people could go, by "Selected." means rich. Yeah, those ones that brags about themselves whenever they can and humiliate the others for not being one of them. You really hated rich people with all of your heart, but you couldn't miss the chance to go somewhere like that.

Already inside of the taxi heading to the Lee's house, where the ball would occur. You could say you were nervous, but you didn't had time for that. When you work with rich people like these ones, the secret is to be ready for whatever may come. And of course that phrase they always says "Know your place." You'll be there to work, so you have to know the place you belong and thank god is not where they are.

🌟

The house is stunning. That kind of ones that you just see in magazines and everyone wishes to live, the perfect one.

After getting your equipment ready you started taking photos of the rich fucks. It was a work that you loved doing, besides you had the chance to photograph the insides of the house. The little plants next to giants panting, details in the ceiling and that incredible chandelier in the middle of the room.

You'v decided to sit a little bit, cause your legs hurt for walking with big heels. Your attention was focused to the people dancing at the center of the room, all of them elegantly swinging to one side then another. It was something nice to see.

But then your eyes spotted a incredible good looking guy sat on the other side of the room. He had pretty big eyes and a chin that would cut your thumb if you touched. His body proportions were amazing, he was tall and thin. But you caught your eyes looking at his pretty hands, he wore many rings in those long fingers, that made it sexier than already was. Your stare got back to his face, he was the prettiest "hottest." man that you'v ever saw, and you wouldn't forget his face for a long time. You stood there for minutes fascinated by his little details that you didn't even saw his piercing gaze running through your body. When you realized that his eyes were reading all of yours moves while smirking, your brain stopped functioning for a second, was it just you or it got really hot? You washed your thoughts away and repeated to yourself 'You're here to work.', with that in mind you stood up and got back to photographing the rest of the ball.

🌟

After finishing your job and keeping the camera on a safe place, you started walking through the big room. Actually there weren't much time left to enjoy the ball, since all the people were already leaving, but it was still a fun event. Besides now you had a new guy to stalk and dream of one day kissing him. After the good looking guy came to your mind, you searched for him all over the place, but he wasn't anywhere near. Unfortunately. The only thing left was to enjoy the last minutes in heaven. Walking through an hallway that got your attention as you passed by. Pretty decorations all over the way.

"You shouldn't be here."

A hoarse voice reached your ears making you freeze as you felt the impact of it. After realizing where the voice came you turned to where the incredible good looking guy was. ‘He's even more pretty up close.'

"Oh, sorry."

You told him and smiled at the tall guy, making your way to leave and go back to where the ball was occurring, but his giants hands held your wrist making you turn to face him again.

"I saw you looking at me."

He said getting closer to you with that smirk of earlier. His piercing gaze right into your eyes and sometimes slipping to your lips. You didn't even notice how close he was, until he let out a deep breath against your supple skin. His lips were millimeters away from yours, while his hands tightened around your wrist to the point that you could feel a slight of pain. Which made you feel a low groan leaving your mouth. He let loose of your wrist and stepped back. You let out a "Fuck." in protests. At this point you might be wet and he barely touched you.

"What? You wanted more? Oh... what a nasty girl."

His husky voice echoed in the hallway, all of your thoughts were vanished away and just the hoarse voice remanded.

"What? Hesitating on answering me, i see. When your eyes were glued on me you didn't hesitated on looking all over my body, why being shy now?"

You felt the heat on your cheeks. You didn't know what to say, nor do, he left you speechless. Step by step he got closer to you again, his body lead yours to the closest wall, pinning you there. His cold breath leaning against your soft skin while looking into into your eyes. His mouth half opened ready to say something but he didn't had time to do such a thing. You quickly got his lips together with yours, closing your eyes while feeling his busted lips. He was still surprised by the sudden action, but didn't hesitated on kissing you back, now leading the kiss. His tongue was hungry, he wanted more than you were giving him. His hands got to your waist, pulling you even closer to him. You let out a tiny gasp when his thumbs met the only part of your back that the dress didn't covered. His long cold fingers resting there, making your whole body shivers. You traveled your hands to his neck, moving your attention to his soft hair that covered his scruff, caressing it with your fingers while pulling his head even more closer. His body was so close that you could felt his boner on your thigh, moving one of your knees to reach his length. Rubbing a little bit through the fabric of his pants. The boy seems to like it since he let out a groan and intensified the warm and sloppy kiss. But it didn't last long. He slowly got away and took a step back clearing his throat.

"I don't think it's a good idea to continue these kinds of things here, but if you have time we can go to my room. By the way, my name is Taeyong."

Oh, the son of the richest man in Korea. 'Not knowing the son of the man that everyone talks about, i'm indeed not that clever at all.' you thought while you raised your eyebrow at him, thinking about his suggestion and 'Why not?' popped on your mind.

"Sure. My name is y/n."

He smiled at you and started walking. Not minding if you were following him or not, but you obviously were. The rest of the house was absolutely perfect, you didn't have any words to say how pretty it was. Literally the ones you just see in movies. You were somehow envious. You climbed the stunning stairs, with lots of tiny details that got all of your attention, stopping in the middle of the way just to stare the little panting on the handrail. You spotted Taeyong entering in one of the various doors that the second floor had, following him and getting inside of the room. Closing the door behind as soon as you got in. His bedroom was something else, it was bigger than your whole apartment. Decorations in blue, grey and black. You left Your shoes next to the entrance and started walking in the tiny corridor that the room has. When you finally reached to the actual bedroom you sighed in relief, that was a long ass ride.

Taeyong was sitting on his bed looking at the giant window that occupied almost the whole wall. When he realized that you were already there he patted the sheets signaling for you to sit on the spot next to him. You did as he told and sat right by his side.

"Can i talk with you? About... something."

He sighed moving his head to face you. His intense gaze made your legs tremble. 'He's ethereal.'

"Of course. What's up?"

"Well. I'm hundred percent sure we're going to have sex if i'm wrong please correct me."

He slipped his gaze to your lips. You bited the lower one thinking of an proper response to give him or even say that he was wrong. But you couldn't, you wanted it as bad as he.

"I'll get this lip biting as a 'Yes'."

He got his attention back to the window, and you did it too. 'Nice view.' you thought.

"I have a kink."

"I think we'all."

He sighed in response and closed his eyes. You could swear he was the most hot person that ever existed. His jawline only lighted by the moonlight, made you wanna attack him just like that. Without a warning.

"I mean, before testing my 'Kink' with you i have to ask if you're ok with it. I suppose you already heard about knife play, right?"

Your heart skipped a bit hearing his hoarse voice saying it while his gaze pierced through your soul. At the same time that it haunted you thinking of knifes cutting your skin, it aroused you too. You couldn't tell properly what you were feeling, it was a mix of adrenaline and fear. It made you even more horny seeing that he had sparkles in his eyes talking about his 'fetish'.

"I'm in."

"So easy. You're a fucking nasty bitch."

He practically jumped on you. Kissing your lips even more hungrier than on the hallway, tracing his fingers all over your face, caressing it with his thumbs. His body was on top of you with his legs in the middle of yours, his knee was so close to the place you needed him the most. You were probably soaking wet by this time, searching for something to just touch you there. Taeyong broke the kiss leaving one last peck to your lips. He left you there in the need for him to just fuck you until you cry.

He entered in some kind of room still on his bedroom. He didn't made you wait much, coming back just minutes after with a medium knife on his hands. The object fitted in his hands perfectly, like he knew just what he was doing. He knelt on the end of the bed and took his suit off, throwing it somewhere on the floor. You were so right about him being the hottest person, cause his abs were no joke. You wanted to lick all of his body so much.

"Can i perhaps give you a head? Before you know, doing what you wanna do."

"Yeah, c'mere slut."

He stood up again, now stripping his pants off. The only thing left was his underwear. You couldn't tell if he was shy or wanted you to take it off, the second one aroused you the most. You got up from the bed and knelt in front of him, his eyes widened as your hand moved to touch his body. Passing your fingers all over his abs until it reached the hemline of his boxer, pulling it down. Revealing his medium sized dick with a pretty pink tip. You couldn't hold yourself back anymore and wrapped your hand around his dick, stroking it from the basis to the top, moving your thumbs on the tip of it. He tilted his head back and let out a few groans. 'So he likes on the tip.' you thought. Quickly got your lips closer to it and kitty licked the tip, moving your tongue on his dick hole. As you did it he couldn't contain his low moans, letting plenty of them escape his mouth. His hands moved to your hair, pulling almost all of the strands into a ponytail.

"Suck it, stupid hoe. Gag on my fucking cock."

His hand pushed your head to finally put his penis inside of your mouth, letting you feel all of his length inside of it while you tried to lick his tip on the times he wasn't moving. He didn't had mercy at all. Putting all of his effort on making you gag, his dick reaching your throat while you were drooling, your saliva dripping over his balls. He suddenly stopped moving and got his hand out of your hair.

"I wanna last more, get up."

In the moment when you propped up he pushed you, making your body fall on the soft bed. He got on the middle of your legs again while studying you, his eyes went black looking at your body through the tight dress. The hand holding the knife got closer to your arm, pressing the point of the blade and moving just a little bit. The cold knife superficially cutting your skin made your body shivers.

"You like this don't you? Needy whore."

You couldn't even think of a proper answer to give him, the fear was taking control of you. His knife got closer to the bottom of your dress, moving it until it reached the top.

"Did you cut my dress?"

"Answer me when i ask you something, slut."

He opened the parts that he cut, ripping the rest that got in his way, making you mumble something similar to 'You'll have to buy me a new one.' as he just nodded and smiled for 2 seconds. Finally something that made you comfortable with the whole situation, his bright smile. Back again with the knife close to you, he now was focusing on your thighs.

"I'm gonna do it for real now. If you are uncomfortable or is hurting more than you can handle, say 'Kitten.'"

You nodded and tried your best to relax your body, you didn't wanted to be nervous cause it would make you paranoid about what he was doing. You closed your eyes as you felt the knife drawing circles with the steel on your thighs, you had goosebumps all over your body from the coldness of the knife. You felt a severe pain on your skin as he moved the blade in horizontal lines, making you wonder if he was gently cutting or scratching you. Letting out a low moan while you tried calling his name, you didn't even know if he heard his name being called or not.

He let the tip of the sharp knife rest on your skin. Without a proper warning he slightly dragged it across your derm. Now on the vertical, making you flinch while a moan escape through your lips again.

"Don't fucking flinch, bitch."

"Fuck me, please."

You murmured while opening your eyes to look at him, he was on his knees on the middle of your two legs with the knife on the same position as before on his hand. You thanked god that there weren’t any bleed, cause that made you trust him even more. He stood up the moment that he spotted your panties, entering the same room of earlier and getting back faster than that one time before. But now he had a condom on his fingers instead of the knife. You thought he was finally gonna give you what you were wishing for all night. His dick inside of you.

"Can i make a wish now?"

"Sure."

"I want you fucking me with no mercy."

"You're such a whore."

He slowly got on the bed making his way to the top of you. But now he was fully above you with his arms on each sides of your body, making him carry his weight through them. He wasn't a soft dom, that was for sure. So you weren't expecting him to kiss you that much, and he didn't. But you missed a little kiss here and there, that teased you even more. Maybe the two of you were just too different from each other. Your body was half naked already, you weren't wearing a bra that night so it was easier for him. And he didn't loose time at all, so slowly he got closer to your chest. Diving on your right breast with his mouth. His tongue played with your nipple, sometimes kitty licking it or nibbling with his teeth. You weren't holding your moan back, sometimes whispering his name as you let some of them out. Of course you were enjoying it, his tongue was literally heaven, but you couldn't take it anymore. you were so wet that your panties glued on your pussy, making it uncomfortable to wear.

"Please, just fuck me."

He stopped playing with your nipples just to look at You. The smirk appeared on his lips as soon as he saw your desperate gaze, hoping that he would finally fuck you.

"So needy, bitch."

He left the top of you and rolled to the side, laying his body on the bed and resting his head against the pillows. He got the condom out of the plastic and placed on the top of his dick, pulling it through his length until it reached the basis. After finishing it he sat on the bed and patted on his lap for you to top him. When you realized that in this position he wouldn't take the soul out of your body, cause you would be making all of the work, you moved your head to the sides telling him a 'No'.

"If you don't mind i prefer this way. Please."

You looked at him with puppy eyes, making him sigh and roll his eyes. He got up from the spot that he was sitting and came to where you were.

"No mercy, huh? Slut."

He spread your legs a little and knelt between them. After finding an comfortable position for him he raised one of your legs and rested it on one side of his shoulder, doing the same with the another one on the other side. His hands moved down, making its way to your clothed clit, he palmed it. He stimulated you doing lazy circles with his middle finger through the fabric of your lingerie. You let out a loud moan to the final sensation of something touching you there. He stopped his motions a little seconds after starting it, grabbing the fabric of your panties and putting to the side. He stood there for a little bit, looking at your bare pussy facing him.

"You're so nasty. All that wet just for me?"

You nodded in response and he smirked moving his hip for the tip of his cock tease your entrance, leaving you wanting more from the contact.

"Fuck, Taeyong. I need you inside me."

That's all he needed to listen. He grabbed the basis of his penis and shoved it into your pussy without a warning, making you tilt your head back into the pillows and groan his name from the sudden move. He wasn't kind, every time he moved his hips you could feel his cock hitting your g-spot, making many loud moans come out of your mouth. Besides being a little uncomfortable, cause you weren't too flexible, the position was amazing. And when he deep thrust you could see stars.

"You like that way, right? So fucking tight, whore."

He kept his moves deep and fast, making you a vocal mess. He wasn't much of a vocal as you were, cause you only heard low moans coming out of his mouth, but it was still hot. His hands traveled from your leg on his shoulders till it reached your thighs, you wasn't paying much attention to that, until he passed his thumbs through the scratches he made. You flinched as you felt a slight of pain, it made you moan even more than you already were, he didn't hesitated on touching it again just to see the discomfort on your face. It hurts more than you've imagined it would, but at the same time it was so good. The pain mixed with his dick hitting your spot, made you experience something u'v never felt. His fingers moved to touch you down there again, moving his index and middle finger in fast circles through your sensitive clit. You felt a knot being made on your stomach and you tried to hold it, succeeding on your task.

"Taeyong, can i cum?"

You asked while moaning from all the pleasure he was giving you, it was so hard to hold your orgasm back while he stimulated you.

"Yes. Cum for me, my slut."

He didn't needed to tell you twice, you saw stars as you relaxed your body and finally let your orgasm out. You were a totally vocal mess, your walls clenched on his dick, making him let out a loud moan at your sudden tightness. He stopped moving his fingers on your clit, afraid of the overstimulation. But still didn't stopped his fast motions, making you still moan for him.

"Beg for my cum, whore."

"Please Taeyong, cum on my pussy, fill your slut with your load."

As soon as you finished your sentence he finally let out the moans he was holding all night, it was music to your ears seeing that he finally reached his orgasm. The two of you stayed in the same position for a couple of minutes until he recompose himself. Making you form a groan in your throat when he took his dick out of your pussy. You saw him taking the condom off and making a knot at the end of it, seconds later throwing it on the garbage can next to the other side of the bed. He rolled to the spot next to you and held your arm, pulling you in a lovely hug.

"Can we stay like this for a little bit?"

You nodded and smiled in response. Moving your hand to reach his hair, caressing his strands while watching him with his eyes closed.

“You’re ethereal.”

He giggled at you and held you tightly. You Kissed his forehead and closed your eyes as well, sleeping with him just like this.

#that was hard omg #nct smut #nct series #taeyong smut #taeyong x reader #hope u like it <3 #neosmutcollective

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

The Holiday Diaster ~ SCB [Day Twenty Three: Advent Calendar]

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

GENRE: Prompt, fluffy, acquaintances to lovers

PAIRING: Changbin x Reader

The caller ID on your mobile wasn't one you were used to seeing too often. Changbin barely called you at all more often than not he only ever called you when you were with one of the other boys and they weren't answering him and he needed them for something. There was a gut feeling telling you that you should answer it, even if it was just to tell him that the boys weren't with you, it was Christmas eve they were all at the studio trying to get some work done before the holidays.

"Hi Changbin, the guys-" He cut you off talking in a panicked tone, you heard shuffling in the background and you frowned what could he be doing to make all of this noise?

"I know, please! Come around! I-I've done something and I need your help," He sounded panicked but it was normally like the guys to pull pranks on you so you had just assumed they'd somehow roped Changbin into it to make it more believable that something was ''wrong.''

"Yeah, right, what did you do burn the apartment down?" Your tone was laced with sarcasm as you laughed about it but you were met with a panicked yell as Changbin screamed,

"Yes! Please come to the dorms! It’s a Christmas disaster-" The line went dead, Changbin decided hanging up to control the fire would be better than letting it almost burn the entire dorms down. Panicking you rushed to grab your keys from your kitchen counter and headed out of your apartment building, practically sprinting down the stairs because the elevator took too long and in this cold climate you didn't trust it. The whole drive down you was trying to convince yourself that it was all some big joke, that Changbin wasn't actually dumb enough to burn the dorms down by accident...Maybe on purpose but not by accident.

"Y-You actually burnt the dorms down-" Your handbag dropped to the floor as you walked through to the kitchen of the Stray Kids dorms. Melted decorations were dripping onto the hardwood flooring below them, there was a tray of what looked like cookies on the counter.

"I was trying to make Felix's cookies and they sort of-"

"Exploded?" You questioned as you walked over to them, Changbin rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he began to realise the extent of what had happened in the kitchen. There were black burn marks up and down the wall behind the cooker,

"Seriously though...How?" As you stepped closer to the oven you answered your own question when you saw that the broiler was on, you felt your eyes roll as you turned to look at him.

"I thought you knew how to cook?" You teased as you began rolling up the sleeves of your hoodie and began searching around the cupboards for some cleaning supplies. It all needed to be cleaned before the boys got home and you assumed that was why he had called you over instead of them,

"I do, cook...Not bake." You giggled at the worried expression on his face,

"Get a bucket of hot water, a mop and some sponges. I'll run and get some more decorations when the floor and walls are cleaned and I'll help you,"

"You mean you'll stay?!" He tried to mask his excitement at the prospect of you staying to help him, you turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You called me to help...Didn't you?" He nodded smiling to himself as he went to get the bucket from the small cleaning cupboard. It was the real reason you and Changbin weren't as close as you were with the other boys, you had strong feelings for him but you didn't know it until it was too late. You both liked one another but never did anything about it, Changbin had never liked someone that much in a long time and had forgotten what it felt like to get so nervous around someone you stopped being able to function.

Sugar soap was the perfect thing to lift the staining from the tiles and floor but the burnt pan and cookies were gone for life. The cookies were so hard you could have used them for playing ice hockey,

"Do you still want cookies? I'll grab some ingredients while I'm getting decorations." You spoke out as Changbin continued washing up the bowl's he'd already used that morning,

"We have ingredients here but if you could get some festive frosting that would be good, here." He threw you the keys to the dorms from his pocket and you thanked him for it, promising to be back as soon as possible. The fact was, it was Christmas eve and not many places were going to be open and if they were you doubted they would have some decorations that would have matched the burnt and melted ones that were now in the trash.

"I got garlands, I got mistletoe for fun, I got banners and streamers and I even got this-" You pulled out the dancing Santa you'd gotten from the market. He was dressed in shorts, sunglasses with a strip of suncream across his nose,

"What does-" As soon as Changbin questioned it, he wished he hadn't, the Santa began singing and dancing to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," while you sat there dancing along with it and laughing,

"I'm surrounded by children," Changbin grumbled turning off the Santa and placing it on the kitchen counter, he was going to place it on top of the fridge but he knew he couldn't reach up that high so he didn't bother.

"Do you have ladders? I can hang them up while you prep the cookies?" A chair was dragged out from under the dining room table,

"You're joking...Both of us are short Binnie how are we going to reach the ceiling?" You laughed looking at the chair instead of at Changbin, his heart was flipping as you called him 'Binnie' he'd never heard you call him anything other than his name before, his ears were burning at the idea of hearing it again.

"I'll make sure you don't fall, we have push pins. I'll get them." He had to get out of the kitchen to cool off a little bit, he was so caught up in you calling him by his nickname he'd almost forgotten how to breathe for a second.

"Perfect," You smiled taking the small box of pins from him but your hands caught one another and you felt sparks fly from the gentle touch. Butterflies were let loose in your stomach as you looked away from Changbin hoping he hadn't noticed how caught up you had gotten in the small touch.

"Hold the chair steady!" You yelled as you stood up on your tiptoes trying to hang up the less paper star you'd made,

"I am!" He yelled back at you getting more annoyed every time you told him to keep it steady when he already was, he thought this would be a breeze with you but you'd done nothing but squeal every time the chair moved or you dropped a pin onto the floor below you.

"Ah!" You screamed slipping backwards, the chair kicked out from underneath you and within seconds you were sitting bridal style in Changbin's arms as he stared into your eyes,

"I-I told you I got you," He stuttered out his eyes dancing between your lips as your eyes as he stared at you some more,

"You...You did," You breathed out feeling your heart pick up as you noticed where his eyes were going, yours did the same hoping that he would catch the hint and lean in to kiss you but he just gently lowered you down onto the floor and clapped his hands together.

"Cookies!" His voice boomed walking away from you while you picked up the chair, wondering if you'd just imagined him staring at your lips of if he had in fact done it.

"Cookies," You whispered, not as enthusiastically as him as your head was trying to work its way around the position you had just been in with him while his mind was racing about how he wanted to kiss you.

The tube of bright red icing was in Chanbin's hand as he stepped closer to you, you stepped back shaking your head as you tried to look for somewhere to go by you hit the curtain that hit the bins from the view of fans on Vlive.

"You're trapped," His voice was dark as he smirked at you,

"I-I- Mine was an accident! You got in the way!" You screamed trying to shield yourself from his attack but he grabbed onto your holding you in a tight embrace,

"An accident?! You squirted white frosting on my face and told me I look like I got too excited," You began giggling and laughing at the thought of what you'd done only to be met with a smudge of red icing across your face, hitting your teeth and going into your hair. Changbin was proud of his work and stepped away from you, ready to go back to decorating the Santa cookies you'd been doing together but you weren't over this.

Once the last cookie was decorated and placed out of the way you took a tube of blue frosting you'd used for snowflakes and hid it behind your back. Holding out your hand to shake Changbin's,

"We did a good job and we have an hour to spare," Changbin had a giant smile across his face as he felt accomplished for doing everything today, the dorms looked festive for the boys and the cookies were ready for them.

"Thanks, Y/n, I know we're not that close so it means a lot that you came around today," Your heart filled up as he began to thank you for everything, your plan began to feel unneeded as you wanted to tell him you'd enjoyed yourself.

"I-I had a lot of fun with you actually, it was nice spending some time with you alone." He smiled feeling his whole chest warm-up at the thought of it but then he saw the tube of icing behind your back and he knew what you were going to do.

"Me too, you erm...You have a little-" He reached out acting as if he was going to clear something from your face before he squirted the rest of the red icing at you. Hitting your white shirt and in your hair at the process,

"It's on!" You screamed squirting him back, running around the kitchen trying to hit him with the icing while he blocked off as much of it as he could while hitting you with his own.

"Changbin!" You cried out as he rushed up behind you and squirted the icing into your shirt without looking and squeezed you tightly,

"Ugh, it feels like I've been put through an icing machine," You whined out, for a second Changbin felt back for what he'd done but you turned around to face him in his arms and his heart picked up. You hadn't been this close to one another all day since he'd caught you from falling over,

"Hi," He whispered shyly looking at you,

"Hi," You whispered back to him wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as you finally decided to take charge of the situation,

"W-What are you doing?" He questioned nervously as he looked at you,

"I'm going to kiss you...If you'll let me and it won't hurt our friendship because we're not even that close..." He stared at you waiting for you to kiss him,

"Oh! Right! I want you to kiss me," He rushed out as he realised you were waiting to see if he wanted you to kiss him you stood up on your tiptoes as you connected your lips. It was like a wave rushed over your body as you began kissing him softly, his arms automatically wrapping around your waist to drawer your body closer to his own, his tongue ran along your bottom lip but you pulled away.

"Did I do something wrong?" He worried looking at you as you bit down on your lip, you shook your head. He'd done nothing wrong, in fact, the kiss had been nothing but perfect.

"We should clean up the kitchen, the kiss was amazing Binnie," You kissed his lips softly again and moved out of his arms to begin cleaning up the icing from the floor.

The boys smiled as they walked into the dorms to smell fresh baked goods, Chan noticed the new decorations so he knew something must have happened to the olds ones.

"Changbin-" He stopped himself from yelling when he noticed you and Chanbin curled up on the sofa together, both of you covered in different coloured icing and sleeping soundly. Chan held up his hands to tell the boys to be quiet as he pointed at you both,

"Changbin and Y/n? Who would have thought?" He chuckled watching as Changbin wrapped his arm around you protectively in his sleep, snuggling his head into your neck.

"I did, Lix you owe me food for a week." Seungmin laughed looking at Felix who was now glaring at the pair of you asleep, he'd bet that you both secretly hated each other not loved one another.

"We'll leave them to sleep, game night in our room?" Felix questioned looking at Jeongin and Hyunjin to see if they would agree,

"Sounds good," Minho agreed, snapping a few pictures as he walked past you and Changbin, he could use them for blackmail at a later date if he ever needed it.

Happy birthday @taestannie !!! @missmxqn @changbinswifu @oosnapitskat @peachyhan

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scaryscarecrows · 3 years

Text

I'd Crawl on Broken Glass to be the One That Laughs Last

Gotham’s gone straight to Hell in a handbasket. Scarecrow’s dead, which is no loss, but Bruce is missing, Arkham blew up for reasons unknown, and the Arkham Knight’s Militia is still in control. Oh, sure, there’s a fair chunk of them in lockup, but they’ve been getting steadily more riled as the days wear on (three days since the Asylum, their boss has to be dead, who’s in charge now?), and the tanks are still running patrols, the bombs are still in the road, and there are checkpoints and watchtowers everywhere.

Jim thinks they’re waiting for something. There’s been no assault, not like he thought there might be. The street thugs and any uncaptured Rogues are still allowed to run wild, though the watchtowers have been spotted taking shots at something big flying around out there. Honestly, they’re even leaving the police alone, for the most part...but they will still shoot at the cars if they get too close. It’s like they’re on babysitting duty or something until the Knight gets back. It’s unsettling.

He’s out doing a little exploration-he doubts they’ve killed Batman, or they’d be gone, but Bruce still isn’t around-when something drops onto the roof of his car. He hits the brakes, tires screeching, and narrowly avoids sliding into a tank crossing the road.

Breathe.

Jim has no time to go for his gun before the driver’s side door gets ripped open by what Jim can only describe as the Hulk. The man outside is only a little smaller than Bane*. There’s a rocket launcher on his back and Jim’s sure he’s not the one that landed on the car, because the car would be a pancake.

He’s proven right a second later when the polar opposite of the giant jumps down. That said, this guy might be tiny, but he moves like he knows half a dozen ways to kill you. The cherry on the disaster sundae? Both of them are wearing army fatigues.

Militia. Shit.

“Boys,” he says, already planning on how to get that rocket launcher from the big one, “don’t be stupid.”

The little one doesn’t say anything. The big one laughs and before Jim can move, he’s been pulled out of the car.

“Boss wants to see ya.”

So they have a boss. Who. Who is it? One of their own? Riddler? Penguin? Goddamn Deathstroke? Who is his new problem?

“No.”

“Sorry.” The man does sound mostly sorry. “Not really askin’. C’mon.”

Jim tries to slam his elbow into the man’s collarbone. He doesn’t even really get to move before the little guy grabs his arm and wrenches it behind his back. Not hard enough to dislocate it, but hard enough to be a warning.

“We don’t want to have to hurt you, Commissioner,” the big man says. “We’re just picking you up.”

“Go to Hell.”

A gun presses against his back. Fine. He’ll go. But he won’t like it.

* * *

He’s disarmed, bundled into an APC, and blindfolded. After way too many sharp turns and double-backs, he’s...somewhere in the underside of the city. He’s thinking over near Drescher.

Wherever it is, he’s pulled out of the APC, taken inside somewhere, and handed off to new hands. When the blindfold comes off, his kidnappers are nowhere to be seen.

The men in charge of him now (and only for now, give him time…) are less...unnerving...than the other two. One is wearing the white uniform of a medic, and the other is having a snack. Cashews? Cashews.

The medic is a man on a mission. Jim doesn’t even manage to get out a, ‘you’ll be sorry’ before the man’s turning on his heel, jaw working furiously, and snapping, “Come on.”

“Where are we going.”

“Boss wants to see you, won’t listen to reason. This way.”

He stalks off and the snacker chuckles.

“Cashew?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” They follow the medic down a crumbling hallway. “They didn’t scare you too much, did they?”

“What’s with the good-cop-bad-cop routine?” he demands. “Is your friend up there gonna come back and threaten to carve my face off?”

The man just laughs.

“Probably, but he does that to everyone.”

“Sometime today!”

Huh.

Jim thinks they might be in the old mall. Scarecrow had been driving that way when something had happened, and, well, if Jim were going to have an evil base of operations, this would be a good one. Lot of ways in and out, nobody ever comes down here anymore-too dangerous-and it’s big, big enough to hold tanks and soldiers and whatever else these boys have. When they round a corner, he sees a familiar logo and decides that yes, that’s where they are. Hm.

They round another corner and end up in the back of the building. Jim’s not sure what this was, but there’s a corridor lined with doors. The medic stops in front of one and turns, hands clasped behind his back.

“Twenty minutes and no more,” he snarls at Jim. “You’re lucky you get that many minutes. You try anything, you might live to regret it. Might. You tire him out, out you go, I don’t care if it’s been two minutes. Don’t touch shit, don’t knock shit down, don’t--”

“I think he’s got the picture,” his other escort soothes. “Don’t terrorize him.”

“Humph. With the amount of work I had to put in to keep his dumb ass alive, I’m entitled to terrorize people.”

“Still.”

“And I’ll tell you something else. You lay a finger, one solitary finger on him, you so much as breathe too hard--”

“There won’t be anything left to bury,” the other man says, smiles with all his teeth. “Here you go, Commissioner.”

“Twenty. Minutes.”

And then he’s shoved into a room with--and good God, how--the Arkham Knight.

The Knight is lying in bed. He looks the worse for wear, but Jim can’t quite muster up pity for him. This...this is his fault. Gotham, Bruce, Barbara…

He swallows down the rage. Not because it’s the right thing to do, but because the Knight’s not alone. Jim supposes they wouldn’t just leave him unattended, not with those injuries, but still.

The Knight doesn’t seem to notice Jim. He’s certainly not looking at him. He’s looking at the laptop the other man has. Right now, at this exact second, he looks like a sick kid, wan and tired, eyes fluttering like he’s fighting to stay awake. But he’s not. Robin or not, he’s...the Knight’s not that boy anymore. Robin wouldn’t have done this, any of this. Robin’s dead.

“Sir.” The other man here isn’t wearing a uniform, he’s wearing jeans and a raggedy flannel that hangs open over some sort of band shirt. But his bearing is still that of a soldier’s, and the rifle leaning against the wall by his chair is top-of-the-line. “Gordon’s here.”

“Hrm?”

“Remember? You wanted to see him.” The Knight blinks a few times, heavy and confused, and tries to lever himself up before his companion reaches over to pin his shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

More confused silence. Now that he’s moved his head, Jim can see his pupils are blown wide. That’s not a surprise. He’s pretty sure he was in Arkham when it came down, and he hadn’t looked well before that.

Serves him right, he thinks, remembering the cuts on Barbara’s cheeks and chin. Serves the bastard right.

He keeps his mouth shut. The laptop has been closed and set aside, and the rifle is now in its owner’s lap. It’s casual enough, but the threat’s there all the same: you’ll go through me to get to him.

He wonders, a bit, what drives these men. He doesn’t really care, but he wonders a little all the same. Even the ones in the cells have been resolute that ‘the boss’ will get them out, that he’s got everything in hand, just you wait and see.

...in their defense, Jim had thought he had to be dead, and yet here he is. So.

“S’right,” the Knight finally breathes. He sounds terrible, and Jim suddenly matches the purple swelling on his throat to handprints. That scares him. Not out of pity or sympathy, but because what little he’s seen of the man says he can handle himself. Whoever did that… “S’right.”

“You up for it?”

He’d better be. Jim was kidnapped off the street for this.

“Yes.” Good. “Glad to see you’re unharmed.”

No thanks to you, Jim doesn’t snap, resolutely ignores the memory of the Knight holding up his hands and telling Scarecrow, voice painfully earnest, to take him and let Jim and his men and Robin leave in one piece. He settles for a curt nod, can’t quite muster up a, wish I could say the same.

The Knight pulls in a painful-sounding breath and drops his head to the side.

“Bring up the footage for Commissioner Gordon, would you?”

“Yessir.” The laptop returns, balanced delicately over the rifle. Jim doesn’t know if he wants to know what’s going on. “Hang on...give it a sec to load…”

The Knight moves and visibly bites back a wince, but the new angle means that Jim can see the full extent of the bruising on his neck.

“There we go--you okay, boss?”

“Ribs,” he breathes. “They don’t like it when people zipline into them.”

What.

“Need me to call--”

“No.” He swallows hard and beckons Jim closer. “M’fine. Just sore. And stiff.” He clears his throat, grimacing. “You worry too much.”

“I worry exactly the right amount.”

“M’just not used to being still this long--”

“Deal,” his friend says sharply. The Knight just grins, but that annoys the other guy. “Did you miss the flatline bit?”

“Technically?”

“I--never mind.” He makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Never mind...okay, all set.”

He turns the laptop around and Jim hesitates before perching on the very edge of the bed. Nothing terrible happens to him.

“This is footage from my helmet. How it kept going after that level of trauma, I’ll never know, but my IT department managed to recover it remotely.”

The footage picks up in a dark area, abandoned sewer network or something, probably, and it’s glitchy and stuttery.

Bruce has been caught on camera before, but not like this. This is...savage, animalistic. He comes out of nowhere, dodging gunfire and seemingly oblivious to the shouts of surprise, and moves in via a flying kick to the camera itself, which goes white and static-y for a second. A few of them come up behind him and suffer backhands and powerful kicks for their troubles, and then Bruce fills up the frame, shoulders positioned like he’s got his arms out and...and...

He looks at the Knight, looks at the bruises around his neck, and looks back at the screen in time to see Bruce going down and being dragged backwards.

“He do this to you?”

The look the man gives him is so reminiscent of the little boy Jim remembers that it makes his head spin. It screams, I know you’re not really that stupid...right?

“Well, I didn’t do it to myself.”

“--okay, sir, I’m just gonna…”

The helmet moves and Jim spots the medic from earlier before it gets set on the ground, facing Bruce. Bruce is chained to a pipe, seemingly unconscious.

“Don’t talk, just nod. Can you breathe okay?”

There’s an obvious cut--they don’t want to share it all, apparently--and then Bruce stirs and starts...giggling. Jim knows that giggle.

“What the hell.”

The Knight shudders and burrows under his blankets.

“It’s complicated. We’re reasonably sure he’s been eliminated, or at the very least contained, but--” A hand moves, presumably indicating himself. “I made it out. He might have, too.”

His friend closes his laptop and sets it aside.

“We’ve got teams sweeping Arkham’s grounds to the best of our ability,” he says. “Unfortunately, we are not a rescue team and as such are not fully equipped to handle the more unstable areas. That said, given the police department’s...track record...we would very much prefer that your men stay out of our way until we either find the individual formerly known as the Batman, or definitively confirm his demise. We’re hoping that at the very least, any injuries he may have sustained slowed him down, but we can’t prove that, given the lack of video footage for the incident.”

“It’s our understanding that Batman has, at least for the time being, lost his fight against the effects of J.” The Knight swallows. “Of Joker’s blood. I attempted to contain him--”

“Contain, my ass,” his friend grumbles. The Knight ignores him.

“I attempted to contain him,” he says again, “via...ah…”

“He blew up the goddamn asylum with himself and Batman inside,” comes the sharp interjection. “In case you managed to miss that.”

Jim had not managed to miss that, thank you very much.

“I noticed,” he says dryly. The Knight huffs a painful-sounding laugh and falls silent.

There’s. There’s a lot Jim wants to say. The Knight was Robin, and Joker killed him (and made sure they all knew it, that tape, good God, he’d sent it to everyone and Jim remembers Dove bursting into tears when she tried to tell him), but he’s not dead now, and look at what he’s done.

Much as he’d like to demand answers--or at least bring half of that up--he won’t. He doubts the man with the laptop will react well; now that he really looks, the man’s tense, clearly poised to move if he has to.

Jim can probably take him. He absolutely can’t take the others that will come at the commotion.

There’s a small dinging sound, and silence, and then an urgent, “Sir. Sir.”

“Hrm?”

“We got something.”

The Knight blinks a few times before half-surging up and demanding, “Let’s go, let’s go, then, help me up--”

“Chair or Trent?”

“Neither--”

“Chair or Trent.”

“Chair,” he grumbles after a second. “But I can walk on my own--”

“Yeah, but if the doc sees you, he’ll be mad. Here it is.”

Jim moves, semi-prepared to offer to help but not really wanting to, but they must have a system, because the Knight’s in the chair with a blanket in short order.

“I feel like a cheap Bond villain,” he’s complaining now. “One that rolls down a ramp into an electrified pool or something.”

“Maybe next time, you’ll consider your life choices, sir.”

“They weren’t supposed to come back to haunt me!”

“I know, sir.”

“Christ...what do we have.”

Should he…? Sure, apparently.

What a day. He needs a drink. A good strong one.

“My understanding is it’s better seen than explained, sir. No body, I don’t think.”

“Fantastic...the bastard’ll survive anything.”

Jim privately thinks the same applies to him, but he doesn’t share that thought. He doubts it will go over well.

The computer room isn’t crammed full of people. There’s one guy on the monitors and another one-one of the ones from before, actually, the one with the cashews-lounging in a chair next to him, drinking a Coke.

“What’s going on, you said something turned up--” He doesn’t quite hide a shiver, but when the other people in the room zero in on him, he shakes his head and insists, “M’fine.”

“Boss, I can link this to a laptop if you’re s’posed to be in bed--”

“M’fine. Pull up the footage.”

“You’re not gonna like it,” monitor-guy says, spinning around and wheeling over to make room. “Looks like he got out, same as you.”

“Seriously?”

“Would I joke when it mattered, sir? Here, look. See this?” He makes the screen bigger. “That look familiar to you?”

It certainly looks familiar to Jim. Bruce’s cowl is difficult to mistake, and there it is, crumpled in the rubble. It’s singed, and one of the ears is broken, but it is Bruce’s cowl.

“Damn,” the Knight breathes, and...Jim doesn’t like admitting it, not after tonight, but...he looks so young. A scared little boy, that’s all. “That’s not good.”

“What do we do, sir?”

“We don’t even know for sure if he’s out.” The Knight’s friend leans over the chair to get a better look at the monitor. “Maybe he tried getting out and died, we don’t--”

“I made it out,” the Knight says quietly.

There’s a wave of annoyed grumbling that includes at least one, ‘self-sacrificing dumbass’ and a, ‘in spite of your best efforts’. Jim has to wonder about that one. He can’t muster up that much sympathy, but he does wonder.

The Knight just sighs and adjusts his blanket around his shoulders.

“Fair. Anyways, seeing as I found a way out, it’s not unlikely that he’s done the same, barring the. The possibility of an instant death. I suspect we wound up in a pocket, though, so.”

“You didn’t notice anything on your way out?” Jim demands. “Was he right with you?”

“I was--”

“Concussed and bleeding to death,” a new voice snaps. “And in no shape to be walking, let alone note-taking. What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

“Briefing the--”

“Literally anybody else can do that.” The angry voice belongs to the medic from before. “You don’t seem to understand what ‘flatline’ means, sir, or maybe you’ve just got a death wish, but tough fucking titty, said the kitty, you’re not dying on my watch. Say bye-bye to the commissioner, you’re going back to bed and staying there or on God, I’ll put you in a coma and keep you there until you don’t have so much as a bruise. Do I make myself clear?”

Jim expects argument. None of the Robins ever let Batman boss them around to that extent, and he knows damn well that if he’d backtalked his superiors like that, he’d be in, frankly, deep shit. But the Knight just sighs.

“He’s been here long enough, anyway.” Long enough for what? “Keep your men out of our way, Commissioner. No offense, but Batman existed for a reason. You can’t handle him.”

Jim bristles.

“Can’t handle--”

“You know it’s true,” he snaps, and straightens up, turns to the man with the cashews. “Call everyone back.” All of a sudden that’s no longer a little boy playing Soldiers. That’s the man that crippled Gotham within hours. “I want everyone off the streets and back at base, now. Do not engage under any circumstances.”

“Yessir.”

“Get into the street cameras,” he continues. “If a rat comes out of a sewer, I want to see it. I want whatever drones we have left out and searching, but leave the car alone. That hasn’t worked so far and I’m not losing more--”

He must breathe wrong, because he suddenly starts coughing, harsh, violent whoops from down in his chest.

“Get him back to bed,” the medic orders once the coughs cease. “Or he’ll be Snow White and believe you me, nobody is getting in here to kiss him awake.”

“Jones--”

“We can handle this, sir. We’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“But--”

“You trained us for this, remember? We’re professionals.”

The Knight falls silent, one hand still pressed against his ribs, and finally melts back into his chair.

“Fine,” he says at last. “Bye, commish.”

He doesn’t recognize the men that take him back. The streets are empty, though, barring the patrolling drones, and they make it back to the GCPD unscathed.

Unfortunately, Jim returns to, quite frankly, a disaster. The officers on duty are tied up, and the militia cells are empty. Not a man left. He’s just freeing Cash when the broadcast screen crackles and the Knight appears on it, face serious.

“I mean it, Commissioner,” he says. “Keep out of the way, or I’ll put you in a cell instead.”

“You--”

“Tell Bullock hey for me, would ya?” He leans forward. “Stay safe.”

Click.

THE END

*I’m figuring Bane is bigger than the Giant Mooks because his boss fight consists of you jumping on him to slash his Venom tubes AND because he can and will run you over, while Giant Mooks of any affiliation are not rideable and don’t run.

#fic #jason todd #arkhamverse #jim gordon #the squad #laughing batman timeline #happy birthday jason!#i still love you even if canon doesn't #(also friendly reminder that jay is a TACTICIAN)#(gotham didn't invade itself)#(he might be hurt and loopy but fuck with him at your peril)

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granddaughterogg · 3 years

Note

What’s death’s reaction to his s/o referring to him as their husband? Like maybe they go out somewhere and s/o has to introduce death to a friend they ran into in public and the first thing that comes to mind while they’re all frazzled is “Oh! This is my /husband/!”

It was Friday afternoon - the worst possible time for a grocery haul.

You've tried to communicate this to your Nephilim a few times before, but the message bounced off them. The Horsemen were perceptive people, but they've spent most of their lives under very different stars (or sometimes under no stars at all.) Never before had they to fit their undertakings within a 24-hour timetable. The intricate ways in which human society works were also all but lost on them. Repeated explanations that certain stuff has to be done at certain hours probably hacked a few good years off your lifespan.

Maybe one day they'll finally learn, you thought, slowly and tenderly losing your shit. Until then - your shared home life was a path full of organizational hiccups. Chaos often took over.

Anyway, you lived with four oversized individuals who didn't really have to eat, but they sure enjoyed it - and three of them consumed heaps. This week it just so happened that Strife went MIA (as he often would), Fury was having a Hair Maintenance Day and War really needed some bonding time with his steed. Or something.

Thankfully Death remained the reliable one. He grabbed you, summoned Despair from his pocket dimension (Death really wasn't the man for cars) and off to the supermarket you two went.

What you faced was a typical Friday after hours stampede. Tired, frustrated consumers teemed the aisles, filling their enormous shopping carts, crashing their carts into other people's backsides and running them over other people's feet. The air was stuffy, filled with maniacally upbeat music and high-pitched wailing of children.

It was sheer hell.

"Let's make this quick", you pleaded into your companion's ashy ear. "I don't know how long I can take it. Can we split the shopping list? I'll grab the groceries, you go get all the cleaning stuff and we'll meet here, okay, love?"

Death nodded, straightened himself to his whole impressive height and stalked away. You watched his wide frame part the sea of busy heads. No matter how thick the crowd, people always seemed to just naturally skip out of Death's way. A sensible instinct. Many heads have turned, the expression on their faces something between dumbfoundedness and awe. You've heard quite a few stifled "Damn!"s.

You reached for packaged rice, smirking. Your man was seven and a half feet tall, his skin the shade of bone, and no, he wasn't wearing a shirt.

You managed to persuade him to leave all his jangly ironmongery at home. That's enough Fitting In for one trip.

Death's dark head finally disappeared behind the shelves and your thoughts refocused on filling the cart. You were picking up some broccoli in the produce aisle when a high-pitched voice uttered your name.

You jumped.

"No way!!!" Something big and bright filled your field of vision. You picked up the dropped broccoli, blinked a few times, and the yellow shape refocused into a head of hair - a shiny lob dyed sunny blonde. Not one hair stuck out of place.

"It really is you!!!" squealed the head in glee. It belonged to a rather attractive woman in big rectangular sunglasses, her lips very finely painted fuchsia pink. She always looked like those ladies portrayed in the so-called ladies' magazines. Thin and poreless, exuding easy confidence that comes from not being broke even once in her whole life.

"Hi, Julianne", you groaned. There was no escaping it now.

"Honey!!! So glad to see you!!" professed the woman, eyeing you shrewdly from head to toe. She probably calculated the price of your whole outfit in her head right now - and the contents of your cart while she was at it. Drawing conclusions. Always have been good with maths. Fucking Julianne.

"I wrote to you on Facebook so many times!!" Multiple exclamation points have been her thing; apparently, this hasn't changed since high school. "Why did you never answer, silly? We had so much fun during our class reunion..."

"Uh, I bet", you murmured. You wouldn't step back within your old school walls even if they paid you. "Sorry for going no contact. I've had a lot on my plate recently, you know -"

"Like what?" the woman tilted her shapely head, her attitude playful, but also slightly accusatory.

It made you angry.

Remember the Apocalypse, Julianne? Remember when you slipped into non-existence among most of the human race? I bet you don't. I bet you decided to forget this ever happened. Like so many others did. Well, I didn't die, so I can't forget. Someone saved me and I got to traverse many different realms side by side with a Horseman of the fucking Apocalypse. And then he gave his life away, and later got brought back to life by his brother, who is also a Horseman - and we've been living together ever since...

Of course, you didn't say any of that out loud. You stood there, fondling the lush green broccoli in your hands. What even was the point?

"Oh, you know. I got into a relationship..."

"You did?"

You looked her dead in the eye - blue and suddenly wide under the swanky shades - and could tell that this was a direct hit.

"Well, yeah." You smiled at Julianne. "Those things happen, you know."

"Sure, sure!! But frankly, out of all of us, I'd never suspect you to settle with a man and all..."

"Excuse me?"

Julianne held at a strand of her perfect, shiny hair and then let go. "You were always quite the feminist after all..."

"What does this have to do with - " you blurted out and stopped mid-sentence because Death emerged from behind the shelves. His arms were full of various cleaning stuff.

"I've got everything from the list", he said. "I've also got at least partially deaf. Are we done here?"

A wide smile upturned the corners of your mouth - this time a genuine one because Julianne looked like a startled fish. She stared at you, then at the ashy, muscular, hulking giant at your side, then back at your beaming face.

Pettiness is the dish of the gods.

"Death, love, meet Julianne", you said gracefully. "Julianne, this is Death. My husband."

The words slipped out of you on their own.

You tossed him a panicked, beseeching look, but your Nephilim was game. Maybe his eyebrow quivered a little; it happened so fast that Julianne would never notice. She was too busy ogling rocky abs of this man you've settled with.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance", said Death in his most velvety, bordering-on-indecent tone. Julianne just nodded back stiffly, as if submerged in a trance.

You left the supermarket soon after that.

A strange, playful little smile twirled your Horseman's lips while he loaded all the groceries into Despair's saddlebags. Thankfully those operated on the principle of magic, not physics, or the horse's spectral back would break.

"I assume that wasn't a friend." You spent all the way to the parking lot trying not to look him in the face. The words startled you.

"Hell no. She's a bitch."

"Ah." That was his whole answer. Finally, all the groceries have been stuffed into the magic pocket space. Death turned around, clasped his hands to your waist and lifted you onto the saddle. His movements bore such effortless grace. It happened so many times and you still weren't over how inhumanely strong this man is.

He sat right behind you. You clasped both hands on the saddle's horn, discreetly basking in this soothing feeling that being surrounded by Death's powerful physique gave you.

His torso pressed into your back, his strong thighs almost touching yours. This bliss would never get old.

"You know, I can't help but wonder." Death's deep voice was like a silky needle, injected into your frayed nerves. "Why did you call me this word?"

"It...just felt right", you said, staring at Despair's pointy ears, wreathed with spectral discharge. The horse turned his humongous head as if asking: Can we go now? But your companion wasn't done yet.

"Do you wish for me to take your hand in marriage?"

You almost keeled over.

"Damn, D! Well...I...I don't want to force any more human stuff on you, you know?"

He leaned over; long, black strands of hair grazed your mouth. Death looked you in the face. You'd rather he didn't.

"Do you or do you not?"

"Damn, I do. I'd absolutely love to. But you have to live in this human world with me and you're constantly surrounded by alien stuff and alien customs which don't hold much meaning to you, and that would just be...another one of those things, right?" you murmured, lowering your head.

"I'm surrounded by alien stuff wherever I go", said Death softly. "I don't have a place I'd call home."

"I know! But it's hard!" you admitted. "You're always asking me what is it that I want. But marriage is one of those things that have to be desired by both people equally, or it means nothing..."

You suddenly felt very small and rather sad.

"I don't want you to get entangled in something that you have no use for", you whispered, pinning your eyes to the worn-off leather of the saddle. "Not just for me."

Death didn't answer for a good while. Then his big hand covered yours and squeezed it slightly.

Before you've met him, you always imagined that Death's touch must be freezing cold. That was not true.

"I understand", he said, "and I am grateful for your candour."

He nudged the horse and off you went, both unusually quiet.

#darksiders #darksiders death #death x reader #death/reader #horsemen as boyfriends #marriage is Serious Business y'all #ask answered #anon ask #ask me anything

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melaninenthusiasts · 3 years

Text

Moment | Jafar

"It all began with a lamp and a fantasy..."

The Arabian palace was humungous. It could take atleast 200 guests to stay in. The architecture was out of this world; one of a kind. The food was magnificent. The chefs worked day and night and could make anything you wanted them to at any time. The soldiers were the best of the best. They could stop anyone who tried to come in and intrude. Except for Aladdin, he was the smartest streetrat ever.

After the hoodlum created himself a fiasco by taking the magic lamp and turning himself into a prince to lure Jasmine, Jafar had to do some things that people wouldn't be proud of. Things like taking the lamp and locking Jasmine and her father away. And hypnosising the entire palace staff to do whatever he says. And make a wish turning him into the most powerful man on earth at large.

Jafar had the extravagant palace all to himself. No queen by his side or anyone to talk to. Here he was thinking about his next move. He was tired of being second best.

"I'm the king of the world and yet I'm still bored," Jafar admits to himself.

Ever since he became the most powerful man on earth it's been lonely at the top. He has no one to speak to but his parrot and the genie. Not even the servants and staff he orders around because they're trapped in the sunken place. Jafar had some pleasure with Jasmine and multiple other women but nothing excited him the way that he wanted.

He had all of the money, sex, and power that he could ever wish for.

Jafar wanted someone who could read his mind inside and out. Someone who could help him take away all of his pain and let out all of his emotions into.

"You can always use another wish to fulfill your fantasies, " the blue mystical giant says.

"What should I do?" Jafar asks knowing the genie's rules.

"I can't tell you want to do. How about you make a wish. You know the words to say."

Genie wouldn't say it out loud with Jafar being his master but he missed Aladdin. He never had a friend like him. Yes, he wanted to become a prince but it was because of his love for Jasmine. He wasn't like the other master's that he had. Jafar was the worst one yet. So typical at that.

The Genie has three rules: he cannot kill anyone, he cannot make people fall in love with each other, and he cannot revive the dead.

The unwritten and unsaid rule was making your wish as specific as possible. You can only have three wishes and you don't want to waste it.

Jafar grabbed the golden lamp putting his palm against it back and forth.

"I want a melanin goddess that can give me an experience of a lifetime wear it'll be a moment but feel like eternity." He continued to rub the lamp as he thought. "Something that no one else has ever experience."

He finally let go of the magical lamp then the magic began to happen.

"Yes, master. Your wish is my command." The God-like blue Genie then folded his shackled arms creating this magical brown storm with beautiful golden specks. The wind damn near blew everything away. It was so strong and powerful.

Jafar got excited to see what would happen next. He held on the the edge of his throne as he watched his wish manifest slowly.

There were colors and different hues of browns and reds swishing around in a tornado along with sparkles. Then it ceased out of nowhere. The Genie was back in the lonely lamp where he belonged. The sidekick parrot of his flew off somewhere.

"My name is Victoria and I am here for fulfill all of your fantasies," the goddess says before him.

"She's perfect, " Jafar says in awe of her. "Gorgeous brown skin, amazing body, and that sweet sultry tone." He smirks as he gets up from his throne.

He admires her in the brown lingerie accessoried with gold jewels.

"I got a feeling that you brought me to you.." she smirked at him as she walks up the stairs to the throne. They were now inches apart from eachother.

Jafar licked his lips as he gazed into her deep brown eyes that started to turn gold. She then kissed his lips caressing his beard as he felt on her body. The world they were now in began to change into this abstract gold and red one.

His fantasy was now coming to life. The goddess was very much real. He could touch her, feel her, and he felt even more powerful.

"I wanna get inside of you," Jafar says in a lustful tone as his hands wander her body.

"You do?" The goddess says in a low sweet voice teasing him.

"I do," Jafar whispers tugging her body to his shirtless body. The goddess felt on his built physique admiring his toned muscles.

"This is your moment," she whispers back to him.

Before he knew it he was in this beautiful bedroom with brown silk sheets and golden decor.

Jafar was laid down in the bed in awe of the melanin goddess with his brown skin glistening. His abs flexed as he breathed in nervousness. There were just enough chest hairs on his body.

She then crawled her way onto the bed teasingly slow. He watched her in excitement biting his bottom lip.

"Tell me how bad you want me," Victoria says as she sits on his lap with her hands trailing his physique. He liked how her nails we done in brown and gold. Everything about her was sexy.

"I want you so bad," Jafar breathes out trailing his hand up and down her body once again.

He looked into her deep brown eyes once again watching them turn golden before she kissed him.

The room was turning into red sand. The walls were dropping right before them. There was nothing left instead of the bed.

Jafar kissed on the Victoria's neck inhaling her shea butter sent as he unveiled her robe. He hugged her body closed to his worship her like the goddess she was. He was feigning for her badly. He didn't want this to end.

His lips trailed down her cleavage as he unclipped her bra. Jafar felt a satisfaction in hearing her moan from his teasing pecks. He continued to worship her body by massaging the fall of her back.

Jafar was desperately in love with her. If he didn't want to save his last wish for something else, he would make Victoria his wife. But that's the price that he has to pay.

It's like Victoria's body was calling his name. It was saying 'I want you inside me' the more and more they went further.

The goddess stuck her tongue down his throat pinning Jafar's arms against the bed.

Usually in bed, Jafar would be the alpha but this was different. Victoria then rose up ready to ride his magic carpet. With her hands trailing down his upper body, she rose up with a smirk. Jafar so was in love that he didn't notice that she was in cuffs.

"Victoria..." Jafar moaned out softly.

The goddess thrusted her body onto his satisfying him. Jafar let out a grunt in amusement. He let himself become mesmerized by her. He let the golden specks on her eyes and the soft cries on her voice take all control of her.

Jafar loved how she let out moans as she took him in.

"Pussy so good..." he moaned out.

The goddess let out her last moan yelling his name to the fullest. She fucked his so good that he could cry Jafar hit his climax letting out his last husky grunt.

"I'm gonna—I'm gonna cum..." he breathed as he nutted in her.

Victoria then gave him one last kiss grabbing his soft beard with her hand then letting go. She smirked sliding out of him and put the rest of her lingerie on.

She then walked away leaving Jafar in the cuffs as the bed disappeared.

"Hey, where are you going?" He asked her. Victoria turned back around and smirked at him charmingly. "And why am I in cuffs?" He added.

Victoria laughed silently to herself. "Moments over." She said before strutting away in the red sand as Jafar sank deeply in it.

"Wait..." he cried out. "We can't be done yet." He fell deeper and deeper into the dark whole.

Before Jafar knew it, he was back in his lonely Palace. He already began to miss the melanin goddess.

The Genie laughed to himself in his tiny living space.

"He didn't day what kind of goddess. Gotta be more specific than that!" He cracked up.

Victoria was a jaguar melanin goddess. One that kept many men sinking into the floor after she was done with them leaving them wanting more. It was her specialty.

—

comment and reblog 🖤

TAGLIST: @chrisgalore @gwenspacy @beautifullmelodyxx @honeychicanawrites @crushed-pink-petals-writes @dc41896 @blackmissfrizzle @yourlocalhoodlum @write-fromthe-start @lady-olive-oil @savvy-ivvory @laketaj24 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @soufcakmistress @bludoranges @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @lotusss-flowerbomb @smuttywriter @iwrite4poc @fumbling-fanfics @writerbee-ffs @amelatonin @themyscxiras @islanddgal @lovelymari4 @brownsugarcoffy @sweetlikecoffy @safiras @melinaasap1 @thickemadame @melinda-january @chaneajoyyy @bluestarego

#jafar #aladdin #marwan kenzari #Marwan Kenzari x reader #jafar x read #marwan Kenzari x black reader #jafar x black reader #disney villain x reader #descendants #descendants x reader #disney villain #Fairytale Fantasies

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rockinggirl06 · 3 years

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TRULY MADLY DEEPLY 💕

✨A Jily Songfic Oneshot✨

Wattpad + Tumblr Masterlist

Likes liked ! Reblogs adored ! Comments LOVED ! + Stealing is a crime !

Warnings: none ! Pure beautiful fluff !

Note: I highly recommend keeping the song on repeat on Spotify while reading the oneshot =)

- -

A one-shot inspired by and about Jily's wedding night and after. A James POV in verse. A Lily POV in chorus.

- -

Am I asleep, am I awake, or somewhere in between?

The boy woke up from his slumber. Shaking his head, he tried to recollect the memories of the night before. A cheeky grin enveloped his features as the thoughts of the day before flooded his mind.

I can't believe that you are here and lying next to me

His eyes fell upon the redheaded angel-like face, her chest heaving slightly up and down with every breath. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair which seemed more untidy than ever due to last night's.. *ahem* activities.

Or did I dream that we were perfectly entwined?

Was this it? Was his mind playing tricks on him? Had it all been a dream? He already found it hard to believe that the girl had actually agreed to go out with him in seventh year..

Like branches on a tree, or twigs caught on a vine?

And now she was under his sheets. His sheets.

Like all those days and weeks and months I tried to steal a kiss

The uncountable times James Fleamont Potter had confessed his undying love for her to which she would just roll her eyes at the boy's childishness. All those times he tried to steal a kiss during their little studying sessions and how she simply would playfully stick out her tongue at him.

And all those sleepless nights and daydreams where I pictured this,

His three mates had grown tired of hearing the lovesick boy's mutterings about how he'd one day marry her. And his parchment and quills were also very aware of the boy's hopelessness as random doodles with her name entwined always found their way on the corners of essays.

I'm just the underdog who finally got the girl

And there she was. The girl he had chased for as long as he can remember. Bright fiery red hair with a fiery personality to match: Lily Evans.

Potter now, actually.

And I am not ashamed to tell it to the world

The way he spinned her around wih glee when she nodded a tearful yes, the way a certain professor had gotten a wedding invitation with a "PS. I told you she loved me, Minnie." And the way he had sang louder than anyone else in the shower that day possibly making the entire Gryffindor house aware of his joy. The boy was head over heels in love, and well, she was falling too.

---

Truly, madly, deeply, I am

And he was on his knee. A gasp escaped from her mouth. This was the moment. Their moment. All her subtle stolen glances at him and the way he made her heart flutter everytime a teasing 'Evans' drawed from his lips.. all of that had lead to this. Tears lined her eyes as she nodded a yes.

Foolishly, completely falling

As a friendship blossomed between the destined pair, they took on their head boy and head girl duties. Potter had stopped with his continual display of affections to the girl and yet now the girl had started falling. Hard. Maybe she always liked him along the way. And it definitely didn't help how much taller and handsome he had grown over the summer.

And somehow you kicked all my walls in

And one day she couldn't help herself. On a patrol as usual as ever, she pinned the boy against the wall and kissed him. All those walls set up came crashing down as their lips crashed.

So baby, say you'll always keep me

After breaking apart, a red hue similar to her hair took over her corsage as the boy simply grinned in amusement and euphoria, and teased, "Alright there, Evans?"

Did she really hate the messy haired boy with the glasses? Nah she didn't.

Truly, madly, crazy, deeply in love with you

With all the roses and candles the boy had set up at their first night together as husband and wife, she couldn't have asked for anything else. And here she was remembering the events of last night where she had pulled his body into hers and made love as he kissed each and every one of her freckles softly.

In love with you

She was truly in love. In crazy, stupid, cliché, cheesy but beautiful love.

---

Should I put coffee and granola on a tray in bed?

She lay beside him and for the first time, he was confused. What was he supposed to do?? Prepare her breakfast? That would please her, right? His father always cooked for his mother. And he definitely could make a mean omelette.

And wake you up with all the words that I still haven't said?

But would that be the newly wed "husband" thing to do? Maybe he should wake her up murmuring sweet things in her ear? But on the other hand, the last time he woke her up, he'd gotten himself punched square in the jaw. And Evans —Potter! He kept forgetting yet always corrected himself with a shy smile— was rather strong.

And tender touches, just to show you how I feel

His tense shoulders relaxed as he simply admired the sight before him. Caressing her face, he tucked some of her red locks behind her ear as he placed a soft kiss upon her cheek. He could simply count all the freckles on her face over and over again. He'd never get tired of looking at her.

Or should I act so cool like it was no big deal?

Maybe he should just get up and shower. Did girls like it when boys made fuss about this or not? Well, then again, it was their wedding night. All doubts from his head were washed away as she gave a small smile and leaned into the touch of his hand which lay caressing her cheek. Maybe he'd just stay here for a few more moments, he decided.

Wish I could freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this

And to think everyone in the wizarding work knew we were on the brink of war. No! He refused to think of that right now. 'Live in the moment,' his best friend had always told him. And that's what he did. He snuggled closer towards the girl, putting an arm over her gently, and pulled her flush against his bare chest.

I'll put this day back on replay and keep reliving it

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and her sweet flowery scent consumed his senses. Their bodies entangled together beautifully and he couldn't think of a better day to start a day. He could now. He would now wake up every day to the love of his life. Maybe until when they were 100. Yeah, yeah he definitely would, the boy declared in his thoughts.

'Cause here's the tragic truth if you don't feel the same

People might consider it rather childish: the way he would confess his love for her ever since their third year. But he truly meant every love confession to her growing up. Maybe it was the sweet tinkling sound of her laughter, or her adorable pout whenever Flitwick assigned extra homework or Merlin, it was probably that one time she flirted with him after a Quidditch Match which caused him to become infatuated with her forever.

My heart would fall apart if someone said your name

And he truly loved her so much, words were never enough to describe it. He really hoped she felt the same.

---

And truly, madly, deeply, I am

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid." She meant that actually. James Potter was definitely an arrogant toerag. But that's the thing. He was.

Somewhere along the way, the prideful egotistic boy had become a caring and proper man. Her green eyes couldn't help but linger on him more as his usual bullying time was replaced by maturity. That time turned into taking care of his werewolf friend, or even time for comforting his best friend who cried into his arms in the corner of the common room some nights.

And soon enough, a friendship blossomed between the unlikely pair of the redhead and the brunet.

Foolishly, completely falling

And sooner it turned into more..

"Ariel, Ariel uh- let down your window?" One night, a rather confused whisper came from Lily's bedroom window. With a startle the girl rushed to slide up the windowpane and was met with the lopsided grin and the familiar hazel eyes with a playful twinkle looking back at her. "Potter!" She shook her head with a chuckle as she allowed him in. "Evans.. I missed you, okay?" he drawed out sheepishly as he gently pulled her closer by her waist. Heat rose to her cheeks as she looked up at him.

And somehow you kicked all my walls in

The boy leaned down towards her lips unable to resist the girl any longer but Lily turned away at the last moment (resulting a rather sad pout on the boy's lips) as she heard her name being called downstairs. "Lily! Next time your boyfriend wants to visit at 12 am, tell him to use the door, okay? My rose bushes are ruined!!"

So baby, say you'll always keep me

And now she was waking up beside him.

She meekly opened her right eye to see if her husband —yes, husband she reminded herself proudly—was still asleep. A lazy smile on his lips, she was greeted with a drawl in his low morning voice, "Good morning, Evans."

Truly, madly, crazy, deeply in love with you

His infuriating smirks had now grown into breathtaking smiles. And he gave her one right now earning a blush upon the girl's cheeks. In his arms and close was exactly where Lily wanted to be. She smiled back endearing and simply looked at him with awe, treasuring the moment, before closing the distance between them. As she pecked his soft lips, she murmured into them, 'Potter, actually."

She was his and him, hers.

All was well.

Anyone catch the ending words reference? The first time I heard this song some months ago (maybe even a year oop—) , I just knew it SCREAMED #Jily. And so here I am finally writing and publishing this !

Thanks for reading and love you all you beautiful people !

Riri <3

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not-all-dead · 3 years

Text

angstpril day eight: screaming

CW: death (i think that’s kind of it??? unless you count sad???)

fic under the cut

They watched as Asami was projected from the hummingbird mecha suit. She yelled the word dad as she fell, making it out of the suit mere seconds before Kuvira’s giant metal hand came down on it. There was no mistaking that Hiroshi Sato was now dead.

“Hiroshi’s plan worked,” Korra said in a grave voice.

“There’s our opening.”

There was a hole in the platinum robot, perfect for them to slip through. Lin grabbed Kya around the waist and swung them towards it, Su following quickly after them. Korra, Mako and Bolin made their way up as well, all jumping through the hall just before Kuvira’s hand came down on them again. They made their way to a small corridor with a ladder leading up to the torso of the robot in it before Korra gave the orders.

“We need to move fast. Su, Lin, Kya, climb up to the arm and try to disable that weapon. Mako, Bolin, make your way to the engine and see if you can power this thing down. I’m going after Kuvira,” There was a determined look on the avatar’s face as everyone but Su nodded.

“Are you sure? When you fought Kuvira before…” Su said, watching Korra with concern.

“I know. She almost destroyed me. Not this time,” Korra replied, and at that they split to complete their assignments.

Lin grabbed Kya again and fired a cable to the top of the cavern they were in. Su followed their lead and they pulled themselves up, quickly making it out of the leg. The torso was more open, though there were many various mechanical parts down the centre. They spotted the entrance to the arm and launched up to it, landing hard before the door.

They were immediately attacked by a metalbender, thin sheets flying at them and striking the wall. They ducked before turning to face him.

“We’ll deal with this guy, you disable the weapon,” Lin said.

Both Kya and Su nodded, Kya following Lin down to where the metalbender stood. Lin deflected his attacks while Kya sent ice spikes flying at him, pushing him back to the wall. They heard a crash behind them and looked at each other, Kya glancing back to see a purple light coming from where Su had been moments before. Lin sent a sheet of metal towards the man they’d been fighting with enough force to knock him out and they left him pinned against the wall.

“Nice work,” Lin said when they got back up to the platform, raising an eyebrow and smirking at their sister.

“The outside might be platinum, but we can do a lot of damage in here,” Su responded, looking at the contents of the room.

“Kya, can you cover us?” Lin asked, turning to the waterbender.

“Definitely,” Kya grinned at Lin before turning back to the torso, immediately firing more ice at another metalbender down below.

Lin spun back around to the room and smiled mischievously at Su. Su grinned back and they both reached out, taking hold of as much of the metal in the room as they could. They pulled it towards them, crushing it and throwing it down before stepping forward. They kept pulling, crushing, and throwing the contents of the weapons until there was virtually nothing left.

“There is no way this thing is gonna fire again,” Kya said with a laugh, coming up behind them.

She wrapped her arms around Lin’s waist and gave them a kiss on the cheek, earning a blush from the younger woman.

“Oh, get a room, you two,” Su commented, rolling her eyes with a chuckle.

Kya stepped back, eyeing the heaps of metal on the floor.

“Mmm, you’re just jealous,” She said smoothly, picking up a small hunk of green.

Su was about to protest when the arm around them lurched. All three of them lost their footing as the arm was ripped off and tossed to the ground. Su’s eyes widened and she acted quickly, pulling metal from the wall to wrap around her and Kya’s waists to keep them in place.

Lin was already falling.

They’d been standing closest to the joint when it had happened. The second the arm was gone, so were they. They tried to shoot their cable up, to grab onto something, anything, but it was too late.

Time slowed for Kya. She watched as her wife fell backwards, her heart clenching. It felt like the air was sucked out of her lungs, and all she could see was Lin. Her Lin.

Her scream was soul-crushing. Every ounce of her being poured into it, pushing her voice past its limit. She screamed Lin’s name, praying it would somehow reverse time, would somehow bring them back.

It was only seconds before Su’s metal pulled them back to the wall. To Kya, it felt like hours. Lin’s face filled her head, from the fear in her eyes as they’d started falling to the smile they’d forced as Kya screamed. Kya saw every time they’d blushed, every whisper and brushing of fingers. She saw every moment they’d had together, and then she saw nothing at all.

It was many hours later when she woke up. Her head was throbbing from the impact earlier, and the rest of her ached from the hard Air Temple bed she lay on. Her throat was incredibly sore as she opened her eyes, so she coughed a little to clear it. She sat up groggily and rubbed the side of her face before everything came rushing back.

“Oh, get a room, you two.”

“Mmm, you’re just jealous.”

“LIN!”

Silence.

Kya slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Her eyes were wide open, the shock of it all refreshed. She stared at the wall, moisture rising in her eyes, for a long moment before Tenzin made his way over.

How long has he been here? Kya wondered somewhere in the back of her mind, not really caring to know the answer.

She looked up at him as he neared, noticing a slight redness to his eyes.

So, he knows.

“Kya…” He said softly, eyebrows knitting together.

Kya shook her head.

This isn’t happening, she thought.

It was just a dream.

“It wasn’t a dream, Kya. Lin… they…” Tenzin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

I said that out loud? Kya thought, causing Tenzin’s eyes to shoot open.

He looked at her with confusion and concern.

“Kya, you need rest. You’re not in a good headspace right now,” He reached out to place his hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her down.

Kya shook her head.

No, she thought.

“NO!” She yelled, wrenching herself away from the bed, from Tenzin.

Her throat burned, the rawness from her earlier scream reignited by her outburst. She spun to look at Tenzin, her expression wild with desperation.

“No,” She said again, shoving past him.

Shock stuck to his face like honey as she broke into a sprint, leaving the room and rushing down the hall. She ran away from the temple, pushing her legs faster and faster as she made her way down the long twisting path. Her lungs were aching, her throat and legs on fire as she reached the pier. She didn’t stop until she stood at the very end, her eyes trained on the ruins of republic city.

Her vision blurred as she watched the buildings in the distance burn and crumble in the aftermath of Kuvira’s invasion.

“Get a room, you two.”

She shook her head and blinked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Mmm, you’re just jealous.”

She felt someone on the pier, slowly walking towards her.

“LIN!”

She let out a loud sob, crumbling to her knees. Tenzin closed the distance between them, fighting to hold back tears of his own. He stood for a moment, hesitating before sitting next to Kya. He rubbed her back as she wept, whispering “I know, I know,” as he did so. By the time Kya quieted, his face was streaked with dampness as well. There was a heartbreaking look of defeat on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Kya mumbled, shifting her legs so they hung over the end of the dock.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Kya,” Tenzin said gently, wrapping his arm around his sister.

She leaned into him, tears still rolling down her cheeks. He rested his head on hers, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze.

“They’re really gone,” Kya breathed, her breathing still uneven.

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, burrowing her face in Tenzin’s shoulder. Tenzin held her tightly, needing the embrace nearly as much as she did, until the sun began to set. Even then, he only moved to accept blankets from Pema, wrapping them around Kya and his cold bodies. She brought them food as well, though neither sibling felt up to eating. They watched the sky darken over Republic City, each occasionally weeping once again. They fell asleep like that, holding one another on the end of the dock, under the star speckled night sky.

That night, Kya dreamt of Lin. She dreamt of all the time they’d spent apart, the letters they’d exchanged while Kya travelled. She dreamt of the time they’d had together, in Lin’s apartment and around the city. She dreamt of seeing Lin again someday, of going home to them and leaving the others behind. She dreamt of the words they’d exchange upon reuniting, the words she wished she’d said more often.

“I love you,” She’d say, to which Lin would reply; “I love you too, since long before I died.”

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love-like-poetry · 2 years

Text

The Bounty's Truth-Part 8: “Ni Kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

Summary: Ava and Jango take a vacation on Coruscant.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Warnings: romantic af sex, PIV(unprotected), some mild violence.

Home sweet home. I missed this ship. Jango went to the cockpit and I headed down to the cargo hold to clean the sniper rifle and put her away. After I was finished, I headed up to join Jango. “Looks like we’ll need to restock on ammo for the NT-242 and concussion grenades. Bane used what we brought to Athus Klee. I also need to take a look at the canon support systems. The warning light was on.” I rambled as I sat down in the copilot seat. “We’re headed to Coruscant, we can get all that done there.” Jango said. “Coruscant? Oh my Gods I’ve always wanted to go there!” I exclaimed with elation. “What’s it like? I’ve heard the whole planet is one giant city.” I asked grabbing his arm.

“The surface is impressive, but we will be going to the lower levels.” Jango replied pulling up a map of the planet. “We’re going to stay here.” He pointed to the area we’d be in. “What’s the job?” I asked. “No job. We’re going to take some time to recoup.” He told me, trying to hide a smile. He always has a contract he was working on, so this was unexpected. “Really?” I had the biggest grin stretched across my face. I’ve been living on a ship for 5 months so getting to stay somewhere else for a while was exciting. The only other place I’ve spend the night was at Gardula the Hutts.

The planet looks incredible. I can see the lights of the massive city all the way from space. “No way..” I whispered in awe. Jango looked at me as I stared at the metropolis. I quietly took in the sights as Jango flew through the city. I think he purposely took a detour for my sake. We finally made it to our destination about 10 levels down. He told me to pack my things since we will be staying here for a little while.

We made our way out of the hangar and into the enormous city. Even the lower levels were incredible to me. I felt like a Jawa in a scrap pile. I wanted to see and do everything. “Stay close Ava.” Jango called as I stopped to stare at a street performer. She was incredible, I wish I could bend that way.

I closely followed Jango as we walked through the crowds. Someone rammed into my shoulder so hard I almost fell. “Watch it lurdo!” The aggravated trandoshan hissed. Jango whipped around and shoved him against a wall. “Want to say that to me?” Jango raged pinning him to the wall with just one arm. “J-J-Jango Fett!? Kriff I-I didn’t see you.” Never thought I’d see a trandoshan this scared. “I-I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t know s-she was with you.” He stuttered holding his hands up. “Apologize.” Jango ordered. The trandoshan looked at me, “I-I’m so sorry miss, p-please forgive me.” He begged, I thought he was going to cry. I nodded my head and Jango let him go.

The terrified lizard took off running, pushing people out of his way. That was an over reaction, I thought to myself. I think Jango is still harboring ill feelings from what happened on Mustafar. Jango grabbed my hand. He was starting to squeeze tighter as we weaved in and out of the hordes of people. I couldn’t really feel my fingers anymore. I tapped his arm lightly, “B-baby your hurting my hand.” I whimpered softly. He immediately let go. “Kriff, You okay?” He asked examining my fingers. “I’m fine love, just loosen your grip please.” I giggled lacing my fingers back with his.

We approached a busy hotel with several ‘creatures of the night’ outside. A few of them headed inside with their new clients for the hour. We entered the relatively well kept hotel and stopped at the front desk in the lobby. “Jango! Good to see you friend.” The male zabrak behind the counter said. “The usual?” He asked getting a keycard ready. “Yes.” Jango replied handing him the credits. “You must be in a hurry today Fett. Usually you settle into your room before finding your entertainment for the night!” He gave a hefty belly laugh. “Give me a ring when you’re ready to leave honey, and I’ll call you a cab.” He winked at me. I contorted my face then looked at Jango. “She’s staying with me.” He said snatching the keycard out of the zabraks hand. “Oh Kriff, my bad.” The man nervously laughed. “Uh, enjoy your stay miss.” He was rubbing the back of his neck. “Thank you.” I said dryly.

I knew that Jango has slept with other women, obviously. But I didn’t like to think about it much. Now I was going to be sleeping in a bed that he’s fucked countless women on. Its been a challenging few weeks for me emotionally, this didn’t help. Once we got to our room I placed my things down and headed to the fresher. I needed to calm myself down. I wasn’t sure if I was sad, angry, or irked. Maybe it was a mixture of everything. I sat on the floor and started to quietly cry from my frustration.

I heard a knock on the door. “Ava.. are you crying?” Jango asked behind the locked door. “No, I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” I sniffled. “Ava, open the door.” I knew if I didn’t, he would force it open. I got up and unlocked the door. I turned around to hide my red face. “Is it from what the attendant said?” From his tone of voice, he wanted to go rip that zabraks head off. “No.” I replied, my voice shaky from attempting to push the emotions down. “It’s stupid, I’m fine.” I sniffled. “Tell me.” He was trying to remain calm, but he was upset that I was crying.

Jango turned me around and lifted my head up. “Tell me what’s going on.” He was searching my eyes for an answer. I couldn’t speak. Because if I did I would loose it completely. “Cyare please” Jango held my face and wiped my tears. I physically couldn’t hold back anymore. I threw myself into his chest and bawled. I soaked his shirt with my tears and snot. I was so embarrassed. I started to try to wipe it up, but Jango just pushed my head back into his chest. He picked me up and carried me to bed. Neither of us said anything for the rest of the night. He just held me tightly until we fell asleep.

When I woke up my eyes were puffy, and I had a headache from crying. I could still feel Jango next to me. I rolled over and he was laying on his back, looking at something on his holopad. “Good morning.” He said grabbing my hand. He put the holopad down and turned to face me. “Feeling better?” Jango asked with care. I covered my face with the sheets. “I’m so sorry about last night. I don’t know what happened.” I was blushing in shame. Jango pulled the sheets down so he could see my face. “We don’t have to stay here. I can get us another hotel. One I’ve never been to.” He consoled, touching my cheek.

“No, no. I’m okay. I-I just never… The thought of other women getting to touch you… That maybe I don’t deserve you.. Maybe I’m holding you back..” Being honest about my insecurities was difficult, but freeing. “Cyare.” He sounded happy and hurt at the same time. He started to sit up. “Come here.” I got up and straddled his lap. Resting my knees by his hips. We were now eye level with each other. I played with the fabric of his shirt, and he rested his hands on my thighs.

“Ava, I love you.” He professed with absolute confidence. All my insecurities melted away. He LOVES me; I didn’t need to be veracomic to know he was telling the truth. I could see it in his eyes. My body, heart and soul belong to him. Tears of joy welled up in my eyes. “I love you Jango.” We pressed our foreheads together and basked in this moment. If the pain, loss, and injustice I’ve experienced in my life was the price to get to Jango; it was all worth it. “Ni Kar’tayl gar darasuum.” He hummed in Mando’a. I later looked up what the sweet words meant. ‘I will know you forever.’

We made love and it wasn’t about carnal pleasure. It was about bonding and simply being close. I’ve never experienced anything like it. My orgasms were slow, lasting what felt like minutes. There were times where he just held me, keeping himself inside. It felt like he didn’t even want to cum. He just wanted this moment to last as long as possible. This time, there wasn’t hunger in his eyes. Just love and adoration. “You are the embodiment of my euphoria cyare.” Jango grunted as he finally came. He wasn’t speaking Mando’a this time, it’s like he was able to think clearly while experiencing a slow, drawn out orgasm. The ropes of cum just kept pouring into me. He stayed inside until his cock was soft. I felt as if a part of me was missing when he finally pulled out.

We didn’t leave the hotel room for 72 hours. We ate, slept, and made love. Jango Fett is everything I thought couldn’t exist. He’s all I need. On the fourth morning, I woke up but Jango wasn’t in bed with me. I looked around and he was casually dressed, sitting at the table looking over holograms. “Guess I could only keep you in bed for so long.” I softly giggled. I put one of Jango’s shirts on, then made my way over. He pushed his seat way from the table so I could sit in his lap. I wasn’t wearing panties. His hands wandered under the fabric to feel my soft skin “Mmm cyare. How are you more beautiful each morning?” Jango muttered as he kissed my covered breasts.

I blushed furiously and bit my lip. “Let’s head out today. I’m tired of the food service here.” He said looking at me with a smile on his lips. “I’d love to, but after.” I unzipped his pants and slowly sat down on his already throbbing cock. I began to grind my hips back and forth. You’d think after 72 hours of nothing but sex would put out my fire. But it only fed the flame. I constantly craved him. It wasn’t just about the physical pleasure. I needed to be a part of him. “How are you this good every time?” I moaned as he moved my hips with his strong hands. He slid his fingers down to rub my clit as I continued to grind. “It’s only going to get better meshla.” He said with a smirk. I whimpered as I kissed his lips. Our tongues danced together and I started to breath heavy from the approaching climax.

He knows the right pressure and speed that makes me cum quickly. He wants to be able to tease me, but once he sees the look on my face he can’t stop himself. He’s even started to learn when to slow down so I don’t hurt from overstimulation. He continues to work my clit until I throw my head back and squirm on top of him. He then wraps his arms around my waist and squeezes me tightly. It’s his turn. I don’t think he’s ever cum before me. We’ve climaxed at the same time, but he’s never allowed himself satisfaction until I was taken care of.

He stands up so I wrap my legs around him. Not wanting to separate. I cling on to him so he can adjust his grip from my waist to my ass. Once he does he bounces me up and down on his thickness. He handles me like I weigh 20 pounds. He starts grunting louder. “Shi as ibac…Kriff!” He unloaded his pleasure into me and then sat back down. I stood up then cupped my hand over my cunt so the mess wouldn’t get on his pants. “Mmm, okay I’ll shower than we can go.” I kissed him then made my way to the fresher to clean up.

Once I got ready, I came out to see Jango in his full armor. “Jango, I thought we were on vacation?” I said placing my hands on my hips. “We are.” He replied shrugging. “Why are you in your beskar?” I asked almost laughing. “Baby, it’s Corescant. My reputation gets me places.” He chuckled and opened his arms as if to show off. I walked up to him and trailed my fingers down his chest plate. “Well, it’s a good thing you look hot in beskar.” I kissed his helmet, the cool metal felt refreshing against my lips.

Jango took my hand and we left. He made sure to not squeeze my hand to tightly. I reminded him that we needed ammo so we stopped at a dodgy little shop. “Fett! My favorite customer. What can I get you today?” A devaronian exclaimed embracing Jango. “Yvak, how have you been?” Jango asked patting him on the back. “Good as always friend! Who’s this lovely lady.” He picked up my hand and kissed it. That was a pretty common practice for devaronian’s. “This is Ava.” Jango said putting his hand around my waist. “Ava, a pleasure. What are you doing with this bucket head?” Yvak teased, elbowing Jango.

It was strange to see Jango be friendly with someone. Made me happy to know he had some people in his life that treated him well. I giggled at Yvak’s jab. “How long have you guys known each other?” I asked looking up at Jango. “Oh it’s been what, 10 years?” Yvak answered scratching his head. “I’m the one who sold him those blasters you know!” He pointed to Jango’s holsters. “And they’ve served me well.” Jango placed a hand on his friends shoulder. “We need some concussion grenades and NT-242 ammo. I could also use more Z-6 rockets.” Jango informed the devaronian. “No problem, I should have all of that. Let me show you some new weapons that just came in too. I think you’ll like these.” Yvak led us to the back. “You still flyin that fire spray?” Jango nodded his head. “Well get a load of this.” Yvak lifted a large crate on the counter. “Seismic charges. These bad boys can wipe out 10 fighters at once.” He held one up to show us.

“Sure, I’ll take a few crates.” Jango said. I think I know why Jango is Yvak’s favorite customer, he likes new toys and has plenty of credits. “Have you had any run ins with droids lately? Because this paralyzer disc can immobilized any droid.” Jango shook his head. “No, I don’t deal with droids often. Only IG units and they’re usually on my side.” Yvak put it down then picked up another weapon. “This would actually work well with your current armor, a Dur-22 wrist laser. This baby is great if you’re in a pinch and need something close range.”

“I’ll give it a try. Load these up with the rest and have it delivered to my ship.” Jango instructed. “Anything for you miss?” Yvak turned to me. I looked around the room. “What’s this?” I pointed to a pronged blade. “Oh Jango, your girl has great taste. This is a Thorn of Ryloth. It’s a spring knife that comes with a wrist mount. This is also an electromechanical weapon, the two edged blades are enveloped with cascades of energy, once engaged.” I smiled as he handed it to me. “Wizard.” I commented, studying the blades.

“What do you think?” I asked showing Jango. “Alright, we’ll take this as well.” He said handing it back to Yvak. “Excellent! I’ll have your items delivered to the fire spray by the end of the day.” The devaronian just earned enough credits to live lavishly for a year.

We had lunch at a cute little diner, then headed to a bar for a drink. Looks like it was a bounty hunter hot spot. Everyone moved out of our way until a large male twi’lek stood in front of us. He was looking for a fight. “Well, If it isn’t the Mandalorian, Jango Fett. I heard you had a little bitch following you around.” He scoffed folding his arms. “I’ll give you one warning. Move.” Jango said calmly. “Oh yeah? Or wha-“ the twi’leks words were cut off as Jango violently kicked in his knee cap making it bend backwards. The twi’lek fell to the ground screaming from the pain. “Anyone else?” Jango looked around the room. No one dared to step forward.

“Get him out of here.” The barkeep said to security. They dragged the crippled twi’lek out of the bar. “Thanks for not making a mess Jango. First round is on the house.” The barkeep said casually. Fights must happen pretty often here. So I’m sure he appreciates it when they are quick and clean. “Two spatchkas.” Jango requested as we sat at the bar. “Haha, hey I’m glad someone finally shut that guy up!” Another bounty hunter said who was sitting next to us. He raised his glass to Jango. “You always know how to end something before it starts Fett!” He drunkly laughed.

“Here you are.” The barkeep placed two glasses in front of us. “You lookin for work?” He asked. “Not right now.” Jango waved him off. “Okay, but it’s a doozy.” He shrugged. My curiosity was peeked. “What is it?” I asked leaning forward. “Well apparently someone has put a hit out on a Jedi. Two Million credit reward.” He said in a hushed tone. “A Jedi?” I almost choked on my drink. “That’s insane. Aren’t they impossible to kill?” I asked. “It’s not that hard.” Jango said confidently. “Once you get their laser sword out of their hands, they don’t know what to do.” My eyes widened in surprise. “You’ve killed a Jedi?” I whispered holding his arm. “A few.” He replied, finishing his drink.

“Well if you change your mind, let me know.” The barkeep said as he went to serve other customers. “Honey, two million credits, you could retire.” I said leaning on his shoulder. “Is that what you want?” Jango asked holding my chin. “I mean this week has been amazing. Just the two of us. No one shooting at us. But I’ll follow you anywhere you go Jango. I’m happy as long as I’m with you.” I kissed him on the lips and smiled. “Let’s head back.” He said throwing some credits on the counter.

It was a quiet walk back to the hotel. He seemed distracted. I’m worried my comment about retirement made him upset. Once we walked through the door I said “Baby I didn’t mean to push you or anything, I know that your work is important to you. So forg-“ He kissed me mid sentence. “I’m glad you told me. Because I’ve been looking for a place for us to settle down. Ava, I want to marry and start a family with you.” He was confident, but slightly nervous.

“Oh Jango.” I threw my arms around him and tears started to fall down my cheeks. He was willing to give up on the only life he knew, for me. To know he was telling the truth, as always, made my heart light. “What do you say?” He asked pulling me away so he could see my face. “I’ve never wanted anything more.” I kissed him then said, “I love you so much.” He lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. “I love you Ava.”

#jango fett smut #jango fett #star wars fanfiction #smut #star wars smut #star wars fanfic #ava killian #the bounty's truth #fluff #romantic #love story #i made myself a little weepy with with one #the next chapter is going to hurt like a bitch

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vercopaanir · 4 years

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You Did Well

The Lovely Moons, Chapter 23

Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Blind!Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian faces his challenger, and you receive help with nursing his wounds.

Words: 6.1k

Ratings/Warnings: T-M for some pretty graphic injuries and violence.

Notes: Thank you all so much for being understanding with me! I really appreciate each and every one of you who sent me messages of encouragement. This chapter is dedicated to @cptnbvcks who has patiently waited for some of this action. I also want to give a sincere, humble thanks to @bunnyart-blog and @di-kut for creating some of the most beautiful art I’ve ever seen! Both of these ladies are incredibly talented writers and artists. Check them out!

AO3

“A duel of territory is until first blood is drawn,” the Armorer says, reaching out to grasp your arm when you sway dangerously backwards. She smells of heat and spices and citrus, and you breathe deeply through your nose to focus on her voice, her firm grip, and the buttery leather of her gloves rather than the rushing of blood in your ears. “To prove who is strong enough to take such responsibility of the clan being warred over.”

“I-I don’t-”

You couldn’t hear anything over the sound of your own pulse pounding between your temples, beating like the gloved fists against beskar, the static crackling electrically in the air. A panic, fierce and clawing its way inside your chest threatens to overtake you, to choke you, and you can’t breathe. You desperately gasp for air, raggedly drinking in the heat of the bodies and the yelling and the hunger, but nothing can tame the burning in your chest. Suddenly the dust in the tunnels suffocate you, the cold burns your nose, and there are tears in your eyes that feel as if they’ve been born from a memory, one where your neck held the imprint of an owner, and you had no one to call your own.

Without considering the options, you shove yourself into the throng of warriors, slamming your shoulder into a pauldron and elbowing away a vambrace. They don’t even stumble in the wake of your insistence, but it doesn’t stop you from making space for yourself, pushing your way in. You have to use both hands to get around one Mandalorian, your injured hand flaring with heat that feels subdued beneath the surge of adrenaline pumping in your body until you practically hum with it.

When you get to the front, pressing between two female Mandalorians, you might as well be made of the stone that makes the walls of the covert, the floors, the ceilings. You feel like a piece of the architecture, just as useful and effective in stopping what happens in front of your eyes.

Kneeling in the center of the open berth of the crowd, Din’s entire body heaves with rattling air, dragging it through his helmet as if it takes every vestige of power he possesses. One of his vambraces has been torn from his arm, and the pauldron, too. His left arm hangs limply, cradled against his body with the other, and even with your impaired vision, you see the lopsided joint where it’s been dislocated. His head hangs forward as if-

As if he’s giving up.

The challenger circles with a proud, cocksure stride that turns your stomach. He is at least a head taller than Din with thick, robust muscles that move beneath midnight blue armor with the dullness of having seen battle. When he moves behind your Mandalorian, his deep, bellowing voice echoes from within his helmet more than through the vocoder.

“Still weak on your left side, Djarin?”

The warrior’s hand is huge, and it strikes out to grab the lip of Din’s helmet from the left. He jerks upward, and your heart drops when you realize he means to uncover his face.

“No!”

To throw yourself forward is a reflex, but the two iron strong hands that grab your upper arms haul you back against a strong, beskar chest plate. At the same time, Din’s helmet seems to rattle on his skull, waking him from a catatonic daze when he hears your voice, and he bucks against his challenger’s hold. The leather glove slips from his helmet, and they grapple with each other until the larger Mandalorian grabs Din by the back of his neck, lifting him high enough that his boots kick out, before slamming him down into the ground. The ring of steel against stone is ear-splitting, so visceral you feel it within your chest. It hurts .

Din doesn’t move immediately, but you can hear a low, rattling groan from beneath his armor. His gloved fingers curl against the ground, grasping for something unseen.

“Cuyir ibic te dala?” laughs the armored giant, pointing his finger towards you as you’re held by the strong arm of another. He prowls around the fallen warrior, inclining his helmet downward to watch his opponent struggle. When Din pushes himself up onto his good hand and his knees, the Mandalorian swings his heavy boot and lands it into Din’s side, much to the zealous shouts of the Tribe surrounding them. It’s nothing compared to the grating taunt of the deep bass the warrior throws at the man you love. “Cuyir ibic tion'ad gar kar’taylir?”

But you find quickly the fight is evenly matched, no matter the size difference. Din suddenly rolls to the side upon his useless arm, throwing his boot out to crack against the other warrior’s knee. The man buckles, falling heavily to the ground, and Din takes the opportunity to climb to his feet. His helmet turns on you, gleaming and scuffed, and he yells so loud his throat scratches, rasps with the gutteral sound of Mando’a. “Hiibir kaysh be'chaaj!”

The large, unrelenting hands on your arms suddenly lift you backwards, and you fight against the handling. “Let me go-!”

Rhalaz doesn’t even stumble from your pitiful attempts, shaking you gently. “You shouldn’t be here,” he yells over the noise, drawing you backward into the sea of armored bodies that close together like huge, overarching doors. He lifts you up from underneath your arms, swinging you towards the forge just as a terrible, ringing clash of metal echoes through the tunnel. It is followed by a roar of the warriors, and you stumble away as Rhalaz sets you down. The Armorer reaches a hand out to help steady you again, and you whirl around, desperate to see anything.

“Who is that? Who is he fighting?” You have to raise your voice to be heard, and you feel Rhalaz hover beside you with worry.

“Paz Vizla,” the Armorer answers, her mystical voice somehow not needing to project to be heard. The name means nothing to you, gives you no comfort or reassurance. “He is of a powerful house of Mandalore-”

“-and the strongest in the Tribe,” Rhalaz mutters, sounding like he wishes to spit.

“I-I don’t understand-!” When more shouting erupts, your hands fly to cradle your head. The vibrations between your temples threaten to drive you to tears. You feel yourself shaking with the reverberations, the overwhelming reality that everything you have found and come to know could be taken.

The Armorer grips your elbow and gives you a hard shake that knocks your teeth together, but it successfully yanks you back into the present. “If Vizla prevails, he will accept ownership of responsibility for your clan,” she says, her words firm, resolute. You blink into the golden sheen of her helmet, mouth opening and closing. “And Djarin’s loss results in relinquishing such rights.”

Over the yells of his brothers and sisters in arms, Paz Vizla’s mockery rings against the stone walls, bouncing off the beskar that is beaten in encouragement. “You’ve always been a coward, Djarin,” he growls, and it’s the gut-wrenching, rasping whimper that ignites you again. Rhalaz doesn’t have time to grab hold of you, and you slip beneath his arms faster than a deer, your hands landing on their target.

This time, when you shove your way to the front of the mob, you don’t hesitate, and you are given a wider berth when you step into the circle of warriors.

Din is on his back, the challenger’s boot pressing down on his injured shoulder. Paz Vizla inclines his helm upward, seeming to realize the cheers that drove him in his beating have died away. When the glass of his visor settles upon you, your hands steady the amban rifle, bracing the stock firmly against your shoulder as Briinx had shown you. The well oiled steel barely shakes, though you feel like you could drop it from how your injured hand pains you to grip the floor plate.

“Meg cuyir ibic?” Vizla asks, his voice holding mirth as he takes you in. “A big gun for a little girl.”

Din’s helmet scrapes against the stone where he’s pinned, angling his own visor backward to see you. His body shakes with every heaving breath. Paz bears his weight down, and you can hear the bones grinding together over Din yelling through gritted, bared teeth against the modulator.

Your fingers slide up the forestock and find the bolt switch, shoving it upward with your thumb. Immediately, violent, violet electricity sparks and crackles along the pronged barrel’s end, and every warrior in the covert draws backward from you as far as they can.

“D-Did you know that steel is an excellent conductor for electricity?” you ask, your voice trembling with fear, but fierce with your anger, too. You shoulder the rifle, stepping forward and feeling a rush of adrenaline when the hulking Mandalorian removes his boot from your lover’s shoulder, parrying by stepping backward. Slowly, he raises his own gloves upward in a sign of deference, and you squint along the rear sight of the barrel. “I wonder h-how well your beskar would hold up against it.”

The tunnel has grown so quiet that you think you can hear the wind blowing somewhere above ground. Your own breathing has your chest heaving, but you focus on the phantom touch of Din’s palm pressing against your abdomen. You slowly exhale through your lips, feeling a tiny trickle of perspiration down the back of your neck, over the hidden scar you keep to yourself.

“This is a fair and just fight,” Paz Vizla intones, his deep voice holding no petulance or grief but strong with conviction. He keeps his hands where you can see them, even with your weak sight. His words ring devoid of malicious intent, but they do no less to calm your wrath. “In the name of protecting you and your clan.”

With practiced swiftness, your injured hand screams and racks the rifle, charging the bolt of electricity so it sparks from the end of the prongs, and you bear your teeth. “Do I look like I need protecting?”

You think you can hear the conjoined, racing pulses of every fearless Mandalorian within the covert, and you don’t miss the way Paz Vizla’s fingers twitch within his gloves. He swallows audibly.

“You do not.”

“Then yield.”

The murmurs of surrounding warriors make the hairs on the back of your neck rise, but you don’t let your eyes wander from the Mandalorian in your sight, armored like a night sky. The warrior tilts his chin downward as if facing down the mudhorn you have heard so many tales of, and you worry, in part, that you will have to kill this man whose name you don’t know and face you’ve never seen. You don’t wish to spill blood, to hurt any creature, but you know that you will pull the trigger for the man you love and the children you call your own.

“You have the advantage, buir’ika,” Paz says, carefully taking a step away from Din as he struggles to roll onto his uninjured arm, heaving for air with a death rattling breath. “We agreed to bar weapons in this fight.”

“I didn’t make such an agreement.”

Perhaps it is the lack of hesitation in your voice, or the surge of courage that falls from you in waves, but Paz Vizla flexes his fingers once more, keeping his hands high and splayed in civility. He inclines his helmet, and your heart races, threatening to break the rattling cage of your body, until he slowly drops to both knees in submission.

There is a deafening uproar of the surrounding warriors, many of them shouting in dissent while others cheer with accord. Several warriors charge up to the Armorer for judgment, but you don’t hesitate, yanking the bolt switch shut to kill the electrical current before tossing the rifle over your shoulder by its strap. You run towards Din, who’s entire frame shakes with his breathing, with the effort to hold himself up, and you slip your arm beneath his good shoulder.

His voice is hoarse, cracking on your name so softly that it brings tears to your eyes, but you ignore him and push every ounce of strength you have into the stone beneath your feet to lift him. You stumble, your adrenaline only doing so much for your balance, but you’re both caught by the unshakable hold of Rhalaz once again. He nearly picks Din up just by one arm and grunts, “Show me where to take him.”

The three of you move through the crowd with resolution, and you wonder if the lack of resistance you are met with is because you still shoulder the amban rifle. Rhalaz is unflappable in the face of carrying Din’s weight, and you only stop once when Din cries out, his shoulder twisting unnaturally in your haste. You make out Rhalaz’s voice through his vocoder, but you don’t hear what exactly he says. Your mind is racing, your body moving without being told and thinking only of finding somewhere, someplace safe.

When you throw the curtain back, your heart stops at the sight of Corde and Venka playing with the baby on the floor, the three of them rolling the familiar shiny durasteel ball between them. They look up at your entrance, all of them scrambling forward with giggles and smiles. Their innocence of the violence and anger you’ve witnessed is mind numbing, and you have to grab the baby up, using your free arm to herd the two siblings backward so Rhalaz can bring Din inside.

Immediately, all three little ones go silent until Corde yanks against your hold, fighting you as fiercely as you fought Rhalaz. “W-What’s wrong with him!” she cries, beginning to hiccup.

“I need you to stay here,” you whisper, breathless and shaking as you force them to sit upon their cushioned pallet in the vestibule. All of you flinch when Din yells with pain, and Venka’s eyes well with tears. You pet his hair, kissing the baby’s furry head whose large inky eyes turn misty, his ears dropping in shared anguish. “It’s alright-he’s going to be alright, but you have to stay here and let us help him.”

Setting the baby between the two children, you lean the rifle against the wall and run to Din’s rucksack. Rhalaz is busy removing his comrade’s armor, and you grab every article of medical equipment Din brought with you, dumping it on the bed beside his hip. It’s woefully light, you think, kneeling next to him, your face pinching with the stress of how terrible his breathing sounds.

“Briinx has medkits in the armory,” Rhalaz says, removing the last of Din’s cuirass and laying it aside. “I’ll go get it, just keep him awake.”

You want to beg him to stay, to not leave the two of you alone when you’re both so weak, but you can’t find the air with which to speak. Din’s helmet sinks forward until it rests upon your shoulder, and you turn towards him, your own body beginning to tremble without your consent. “T-Tell me what t-to do,” you whisper, slipping your arm around his middle and cradling him against your body. “You have to tell me what to do.”

Without his beskar, save for his helmet, he looks like any other man. Firm in places, soft in others, and suddenly so vulnerable that you want to cry. But his glove grabs your knee with a firm hold, and you can feel the shaking determination all the way up his arm. “Get-Get a cloth, a sheet-something that won’t tear.”

It takes you a minute to register exactly what he says, but when you do, you’re on your feet, rushing through the quarters until you find several different things. You bring back a towel, a blanket, and a tunic you’d packed for yourself. “Will any of these do?”

He’s panting, leaning on his good arm to keep from falling over, and you’re worried he’ll pass out before he can tell you what to do next. He nods towards your hand that holds the dark orange silk of the tunic and you toss the other two articles aside. He shifts forward grunting with the pain of effort. “Loop it under my arm and hold the ends up with both hands.”

You comply, fumbling to keep hold of the silk. It crosses your mind that it’s made of the fabric he’d gifted you, and you almost feel angry at the thought. Angry that you should think of such a thing now when you should be focusing on keeping him coherent. “N-Now what?” you ask, holding the ends upward, unsure what he intends.

“Now you have to pull it up hard. Get the bone back in the socket.”

Horror washes over you, and bile stings the back of your throat. “I-I can’t do that!”

His helmet shines when it angles upward to look at you, and his voice is a wet huff when he chuckles. “I don’t think there’s anything you can’t do, cyar’ika.”

“I’ll hurt you, I-I don’t want to hurt you,” you whimper, staring down at his arm that hangs in such a horrible way. It’s too still.

“You won’t. Just do it-don’t hesitate. Quick and hard.”

Tears spill over the apples of your cheeks, and you close your eyes to breathe. It’s so difficult getting air in your lungs, so hard to know that the three children just a few feet away are crying with you, terrified of seeing something this gruesome befall their protector. A warm glove rests on your waist, and you look down to see his helmet once more tilting up into your face. “You can do this,” Din rasps, his voice roughened by pain.

He’s always been right so far.

Wrapping the edges of the silk around your hands, you nod and take a deep breath from your belly. He bows his head and breathes himself, and you count in your mind. One, two, three-

You use all the power from your legs and lift up with a hard, short pull. You can’t hear it, but you can feel the bone slip back into place. Din makes a noise unlike anything you’ve ever heard, a hoarse whimper bared through teeth, and his right fist slams against the cushion, the heels of his boots scraping against the floor.

“I’m-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you cry, dropping the tunic and kneeling on the bed again. Din sobs through the vocoder, but he shakes his head, resting his good elbow on his knee and holding the brow of his helm. He’s heaving for breath, and you wish he would take his helmet off just so he could breathe better.

“Y-You did well, Cyare,” he whispers, and it’s all you can do not to fall against his side. “You did so well.”

You want to ask what to do next, but a hollow, metallic ringing comes from the door to your quarters. After several silent beats, the curtain is thrown back, and Paz Vizla steps through the threshold.

Having seen the Mandalorian dress and secure his weapons, you are well acquainted with where he keeps his weapons, and you know his vibroblade rests in the sheath of his boot. Fear disguised as boldness has you unsheathing it at the same time you stand up. You are not an intimidating force, you’re sure, hair falling from its place, dress wrinkled, crying, trembling too much to keep the knife steady.

Tilting his helmet to the side, Paz considers your form, but before you can do anything, he takes one large stride forward and grabs your wrist, the other hand yanking the knife out of your grip...before readjusting your hold on it.

“If you want to do damage to someone like me,” he says, his voice slow and deep like a thick, sugary syrup. “You should brace your arm like this. You could go for the neck, if you’re fast enough, but you’d do well to go for the hip. It’ll bleed just as well, and you’re shorter,” he chuckles.

Your ears ring at the sound of his laugh, a companionable, almost friendly song. It’s only then you realize he’s carrying a bag on one arm, and steps around you to take a knee beside your Mandalorian. He opens it and pulls out a long, folded cloth. “You’re getting old and slow, Djarin.”

Your confusion is amplified when Din huffs with vague amusement, and you only then lower the vibroblade. “W-What...I don’t understand,” you say, feeling dizzy.

Paz unfolds the cloth he’s retrieved and gestures with a tilt of his head. “Come here, buir’ika. He needs this wrapped around him. Pretty sure I broke a rib or two.”

“Or three,” Din wheezes, much to Paz’s continued amusement.

You approach with caution, kneeling back beside Din on the bed. Paz passes you the blanket, but all you can do is stare at him in wonder. He drops it into your lap before grabbing the hem of Din’s shirt and pulling it up without ceremony. It shocks you, seeing anyone handle the Mandalorian this way, but you’re already reeling so much that you don’t question it. His abdomen is splotched with red contusions, and you grimace at the sight, knowing they will soon fade to blue, to purple, to black.

“Come on,” Paz grunts at you, nodding his head. “Wrap it around him before he bleeds out.”

The words knock you from your stupor, and you unfold the cloth, slowly and carefully wrapping it around Din’s middle. It’s shorter than you realize, but it folds around him three times. Paz instructs you to secure it as tight as you can, and the fabric molds to itself without needing to be pinned. It feels almost warm, almost like water, the texture silky but thick.

“What is this?”

“A healing sheath,” Paz mutters, looking back into his bag while you gently lower Din’s tunic back down, tucking it with care. “It’ll keep his ribs from puncturing anything and help them mend.”

You stare at him for a long moment, and soon all of the adrenaline begins to seep from your system. You’re afraid you’ll fall over, pass out, faint, even, and you have to brace yourself with your hand on Din’s thigh to keep yourself steady.

“W-Why are you helping us?”

Paz goes still, looking up at you before his helmet tilts toward your Mandalorian’s visor. “You...didn’t tell her?” he asks, incredulous.

Din seems to be too focused on breathing to react suitably. It isn’t as shaky now, it doesn’t rattle the way it did, but his voice is thin from strain when he sighs, “I was going to.”

Your pale eyes flicker between the two warriors, resting a hand on your stomach that feels suddenly sour. You watch as Paz stands, an ungraceful lumber, and clenches his hands into fists at his sides before he takes a deep breath. “Then I’ll wait until you do.” He sounds...upset. Angry. His cobalt helm turns towards you, the glass of his visor not nearly as shiny as what you’re used to facing. “Rhalaz gave me these supplies to bring to you. He said there is enough to tend to him.” He bows his head, which makes your heart flip with an anxious confusion, before he turns and stomps out of the room, the curtain falling heavy behind him.

When you and Din are finally alone, you turn towards him, unsure of where to even begin. Questions race through your mind so quickly, piling up like the stones upon a grave to keep out ghosts, and you’re left feeling weary. You part your lips several times in an attempt to speak, to beg or plead or insist upon explanations, but you feel adrift in an ocean without having learned how to swim.

It’s the warm, liquor rich baritone that becomes an anchor for you.

“You don’t have to…” Din gestures to the bag of medical supplies, his breath hitching when he tries to shift forward.

Annoyance sprouts at the back of your throat, and you stand, picking up the rucksack. You frown, muttering, “You can hardly sit up. I’m not letting you try to stick yourself with needles or apply bacta.” You set it upon the table before turning to him, hands on your hips. “Can you lay down?”

He hesitates before shaking his helmet cautiously. Withholding a sigh, you nod and step close, supporting his back as you help him ease his body backward against the cushions as flat as possible. The healing sheath will keep his ribs from causing him pain, but you don’t think propping him up will help. Once he’s flat, you sit beside his hip, drawing the bag into your lap to sort through the contents.

You can feel him watching you, even if he doesn’t make it obvious. When he says your name, you have to close your eyes against the onslaught of emotion, of shock. Not Cyare, not Mesh’la. Your name.

“You are not obligated to do anything.” You turn your eyes upon his helmet, find his shiny visor gazing up at the ceiling. His breathing stutters, labors to stay controlled and even, and you think he doesn’t struggle with the words but with keeping them all from falling out together at the same time. “I do not deserve your help. I-I acted without honor.”

Once, you may have rushed to assure him otherwise, only wishing to cool tempers and soothe hurt feelings, but your tongue stays silent, eyes gazing upon the gleam of beskar in the lantern light. It would be disrespectful to both of you to not allow apologies, to refuse his regret.

Truthfully, your argument seems so distant now, so minuscule and pitiful in the face of nearly losing everything, losing him. You sniffle, looking down at the batca patch, the shot of anesthetic, the gauze. “Is that why you were challenged by Paz Vizla?” you question softly, turning your eyes back towards him. His helmet is angled toward you now. “Is that why he dueled you?”

You can see the dip of his throat when he swallows. “No.” He rests his gloved hands on his abdomen, seeming to attempt to compose himself. “I challenged him.”

You didn’t think you could feel much beyond exhaustion, but the truth knocks the breath from you. Gripping the syringe nearly until the crystal barrel cracks, your eyes widen, staring at him with a pale, ashen face. “I don’t understand,” you whisper, a plea against your ringing ears. You hate how much you’ve said those words today.

For a moment, Din goes so still and so quiet you think he may have fallen unconscious. But he rolls his helmet to look at the ceiling again, and you see the uneven rise and fall of his chest as he still attempts to gain control of his breathing. “Last night, I asked you a question, and you agreed. Do you remember?”

A hot, humid flush warms your face, and you hesitate. Your memories of the night before in the very bed you sit upon are stronger now, recalling lips and hands, sweat and skin. You remember your nightmare, clutching your child to protect him from the unforgiving fall against slain warriors of Mandalore.

“I asked if you would stay here,” Din prompts with a gentle tone, so tender it breaks your heart. “If you would stay here in the covert with the children while I hunt down the bounty I gained from Greef Karga. You agreed, but...I think you fell asleep.”

Your ears are ringing, and you’re not sure why. You relax your fingers from around the syringe, laying the supplies carefully on the bed beside his hip. “I never would have agreed to that,” you tell him, firm with conviction and blinking salt from your eyes. “Not if I’d...been awake.”

His voice pitches just slightly, curious and wondering. “What did you think I asked?”

Ignoring the question by attempting to quell the aching pound of your heart beating against your breast, you look into the rucksack for more gauze. “I won’t be left behind,” you whisper, voice cracking with your insistence. “Not for any bounty, I-I won’t allow it.”

“It’s too dangerous for you to come with me,” he whispers, his voice so, so soft. Softer than the way he touched you or how he kissed you. Softer than his hair or the sound of him saying your name in pleasure.

“Then why take it!” Your own voice is hoarse when the exclamation breaks from your mouth, the bag falling out of your lap when you jerk to face him. You feel like you could hit the wall again, but the dull throbbing in your hand keeps you in your place. “If it is so dangerous, why are you risking yourself this way? Risking what we have?”

His next words steal your anger out from under you. “Because it will protect the child.” His helmet looks back at you, and you can see his breathing pick up. “Greef Karga has made a deal on my behalf. If I can capture and return this bounty, my sin of taking the child will be forgiven. The Empire will leave us alone.”

Your eyes fall closed against the swell of heartache threatening to overturn you completely. Once more, you both are pawns of bloodthirsty men, and you want to fall apart. You rest your hand against your brow, biting your lip to keep from crying. It’s easy to forget the threat of danger being so close, holding the children safe and feeling the Mandalorian’s protection guard you all while you sleep.

Din swallows hard, and you can hear it this time as if he wishes he didn’t have to continue. “There’s a chance...if I find him, I may not come back,” he mutters, his breath pulling when your hand reaches out to grip his glove. So tight you fear you may hurt him. He waits until you can’t hold on so tight, until the joints in your delicate hand creak as they loosen. “And I could not leave you alone, would not...not leave you unprotected.”

You realize, sluggishly, what his intentions are, and you open your watery eyes. “Paz Vizla.”

“He is the strongest warrior in the Tribe,” Din murmurs, sounding both bitterly begrudging and admiring. “He will protect you and the children with his life should I not come back. He’s sworn it.”

Your chin wobbles with keeping in everything, your lips sealed against the overwhelming desire to hit and kiss and yell and hold. You lean forward, resting your uninjured hand upon the pallet near his helmet, hovering over him. When one of your tears escapes, rolling across the shined steel beneath you, Din reaches up to brush the wetness from your cheek, simply watching you.

“I have made you cry beyond what I would allow,” he whispers, letting you grab his hand and tug his gloves off. You bring his hand to your cheek, turning your lips into his palm to kiss his leather scented skin. His voice lowers impossibly, until you have to strain your ears to hear him as he whispers, fervent and shaking, “I am sorry, ner cyare. I am, I-” His fingers curl, cupping your cheek while you let your tears fall in the silence, and you know he is in more pain now than he was before. “I should have never spoken that way to you, never...never taken out so much of my own pain on the one I trust.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whisper back, holding his hand against your flushed cheek and gazing down at his visor. You lean gently to the side, careful not to put pressure on his injuries. “Your...mother-” His fingers twitch against your cheek, but you hold his hand where it is. You both opened this door, and now you will walk through it. “Your parents? They died, and you were next.”

He is silent in the face of the truth, giving you a simple, slow nod. You hold your injured hand against the curve of beskar where his own cheek would be, the cool steel feeling forgiving against your hand, and you can’t keep the gentle smile from your lips. “Sacrifice is not abandonment, Din Djarin. There is only nobility in what they did for you,” you lean forward, shaking from the emotions that sweep through you in circles. Pain and relief, discord and absolution. You press your lips to his beskar brow and lean your own against his helmet. “I would have been honored to know them, just as I am you.”

His right arm slips around your waist, and several of the medical supplies clatter to the floor as you allow him to pull you down upon the bed in a tight embrace. You press your face into his neck, your own arms slipping carefully around his middle, saying nothing as he shakes and trembles in your arms. You have never seen a man cry before, never known what it is like, and there is something so humbling, so heartbreaking that he should break over your quiet words of forgiveness. Ever since you’ve come to know him, you have learned more of the man beneath the armor from what he does rather than what he says. You don’t know why this means so much more to you.

You rest your hand on the other side of his neck, allowing his tears to paint his face beneath his helmet without bringing light to it. Somehow, it would be rude, you think, and you wait until they slow to a stop. “I forgive you of your cruelty,” you whisper, slowly lifting yourself up on your elbow. “If you will forgive me for my foolishness.”

The noise he makes is a scoff that cracks, and he lays his hand over your waist. “You are no fool and I have been wrong to say it,” he mutters, voice full of self-loathing. “You are the only person I hold within myself.” His thumb trails upward to brush your cheek, and you turn your face to kiss his hand once more.

“Then do not leave me here. Don’t leave me without you.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you know there will be more to speak of when you both have the strength for it. You don’t know if you can blame him for the way he feels now that you’ve held a man at gunpoint. You think you must understand the lengths someone will go to, now, for those they love, for you’d do it again and hesitate less.

It’s when the hand that touches the side of his neck comes away, wet with blood that you sit up suddenly, gasping, but he makes a quiet, assuring noise. “Split lip,” he mumbles, grunting as he shifts. “A few...cuts beneath the beskar.”

You look at your hand, the small smear of crimson burning under the golden lantern. “I thought the duel was until first blood was drawn?” you ask softly, glancing between your palm and his visor.

He rumbles, pressing his helmet back against the pillow to stretch a little. “Had to give Vizla a fight,” he grumbles, practically glaring up at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t...give you up easily.”

Reaching down, you find the gauze and bacta spray, your heart beating heavily. You hesitate as you look down at him. “Should I leave you to it?” you ask, uncertain and nervous, offering the supplies to tend his face. You did want to check on the children, sure they have fallen asleep by now, but something in the way his fingers flex across his chest makes you pause.

“No,” he breathes. “It’s your right to see.” He cups your wrist, more tender than you expect without the glove, and he leads your fingers to the lip of his helmet. “Go on.”

A blind fear begins to bubble in your chest, furious and fluttering, and you grip the steel with white knuckled fingers. “But-but you said only a wife could-”

“Yes. I did.” A quiet beat between you, and you are sure your hearts match in pace. “So, it is your right. This is the way.”

The silence between you is humid, humming and heated, and this is as much of a challenge as a duel between Mandalorians only with more at stake, more to fear, more to want. Inherently you know that this moment will twine your lives together beyond anything you could understand, beyond a promise or a ring or a kiss. You feel your heart beating like a drum for war when your other hand comes to balance the other side of the Mandalorian helm. But you think this time, this particular moment, you and your challenge are evenly matched.

And so, you remove his helmet.

Mando'a Translations:

Cuyir ibic te dala? - Is this the woman?

Cuyir ibic tion'ad gar kar’taylir? - Is this the one you love?

Hiibir kaysh be'chaaj! - Take her away!

Meg cuyir ibic? - What's this?

Buir’ika - Little mother

Cyar’ika - Sweetheart, darling

Cyare - Beloved

Mesh’la - Beautiful

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