#din is in disguise

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 19}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader) ; brief Force Sensitive! Reader and M!OC

Summary: As the wedding to Prince Cala looms closer, you find yourself feeling more and more out of place within the palace walls. You find an unexpected friend in your new bodyguard and handmaiden.

Word Count: 9.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, we meet readers betrothed and he needs his own warning, reader's mother also gets her own warning, kidnapping, reader is being kept against her will, hostage situation, use of narcotics, use of drugs, sedatives, self-depreciating thoughts, ptsd symptoms, medical trauma, past medical trauma, feelings of inadequacy, sexual themes, sexual content (not detailed), non con touching, unwanted advances, emotional manipulation, unnecessary display of possession, memory loss, controlling family dynamics, marriage set up, sold into marriage, there are a few more but they will spoil the chapter!

A/N: whew okay, sorry y'all. a looooot has been going on in my personal life, detailed in this post and this one. my only source of internet is the local library at the moment, which will make posting actual fic a little tricky for a moment. but i'm so excited to dwell further into this original arc with y'all ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Ringing. Ringing, ringing. It completely consumed you, from the very center of your ears, muffling every other sound that tried to get through.

It didn’t hurt, but it did make it hard to concentrate, it felt like an immense pressure behind your eyes as well. Making your forehead and temples sensitive to touch, making it hard to take in the bright light from the desert landscape beyond your windows.

There was a soft knock at your door, signaling the start of the day. But you didn’t rise, feeling too lethargic even as the form of your mother and two handmaidens entered the room in a flurry of motions and quick words. But everything ceased when you called out from beneath your covers as the curtains were drawn back.

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Her words were sweet, cloyingly so, setting off an unease deep in your gut, nausea roiling at the combination.

“I-I don’t feel too good. My head, it hurts.” You roll over to your side, unable to move much beyond that as the throbbing in your head intensifies. She goes to sit beside your covered form on the edge of the bed, but you protest before she does. You didn’t want her anywhere near you, the very thought of her touching you making your body tense up and ready to fight her off. Frowning, she retracts her hands from where she had begun to reach out, something glinting in her eyes.

“I’ll go see if the med droid is available.” And then she was off, allowing you to see her exchange a few words with the guards outside your door. You catch a glimpse of brown eyes, making contact with the man who possessed them for a breath, and you feel like the air catches in your chest. That simple, momentary contact with a man you don’t know eases the ailments that have you still in bed despite the late morning of the hour. But the door is shut tightly behind everyone as they exit the room. Leaving you in isolation, the curtains fastened shut once again.  

Hours later, as the sun begins its descent from the highest point in the sky, you slowly open your bedroom door. There’s only one guard at your door, posted there to ensure your safety as you keep to your quarters for the day. He’s dressed in flowing black layers, brown leather harness and belt allowing for his sheathed rapier style sword to dangle from his hips. His head snaps to attention as you emerge slightly, and you feel your heart skip a beat as his eyes bore into yours.

Any thoughts of what you were about to ask are pushed from your aching head when you connect the man standing before you with the polite one from the market a few days ago. The one who had held you so tenderly and made sure you were okay when your body had convulsed as a weird energy had suddenly flooded your senses. The ones whose eyes you had glimpsed through the door earlier.

“Excuse me, but-oh Maker, I’m so sorry, this is so inappropriate to ask- but you look so familiar,” A breathy laugh gave away your nervousness. “Your eyes are just so beautiful, and I think we met in the market the other day, if I’m not mistaken?”

“We did.” His voice was like velvet rich, a caressing softness in your ringing ears. Easing the ache still lingering in your head even if his words were short, his tone almost emotionless.

“Oh, goodness, okay. I don’t feel so out of line. I just…I thought it was you but I didn’t want to risk offending you or making you uncomfortable since you’re new to the palace.” The hallway was silent, as if he was thinking over his next words, as if he was unsure of how to speak with you. But you didn’t mind, sensing he was a man of few words.

“What made you feel like it was okay to ask?” He’s watching you closely, and you feel as if you’re being dissected. Being read in a way you weren’t quite comfortable with but…it also stirred warmth low in your middle. It was so different a look to those you encountered from the rest of the staff, from your mother, from Prince Cala and his family.

“Oh, um. Did I-I speak too intimately with you, I apologize. I really didn’t mean anything by it-“ You flustered, unsure why the man was pinning you with such focus. As if he was reading things in your body language and inflections differently than those you dealt with on a daily basis around the palace, as if he was privy to what they meant. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the ringing still pressing down on your ears. Closing your eyes in a focusing blink before bowing to the man in front of you, stood dutifully at his post outside your bedroom door. Opening them back up, you avoided his eyes, not wanting to see the disdain he was surely pinning you with. “My apologies, sir, I meant no disrespect. I’ll leave you to your post.”

“No, don’t go. It’s okay, I promise. You can ask me anything you want.” He inclined his head toward you, one hand moving to grasp the hilt of his weapon. But it didn’t feel like a threat, it felt more like he was trying to ground himself. “I will do my best to answer. Though there are some things I may not be able to.”

“Why, because I’m the princess and you have to answer to me?” You tried not to scoff, the notion so ridiculous even if all signs pointed to this being your life. The title is something you had earned by falling in the good graces of the prince, of being promised to the prince of this planet. You never recalled wanting to be of such a standing and yet it had happened, it was your life. The insistence of so being repeated to you nearly daily over breakfast with your mother and at night over tea, almost as if it was a false truth being pushed on you until you believed it to be so. It was the reality in which you were roused from your accident, the one so bad you couldn’t recall any specifics.

“Because I don’t mind, you were kind to me and my…child in the market. He really enjoyed those berries.”

“Is he here with you?” You felt a swoop of admiration in your middle, the image of the small green boy lifting up the edges of your lips. You didn’t have the best experience with children, or any really, but you enjoyed the small sounds of happiness he had made as he munched and interacted with you. It filled a void you hadn’t realized, interacting with him, with his son. You never recalled wanting children either, though you mother and the parents of Prince Cala often cited two would be an appropriate number once the marriage was carried out. The discussion something you hadn’t even been a part of, making you feel some type of way about the whole ordeal that concerned your body and your livelihood.

“Yes, he’s back in the guards’ quarters, Asleep in my room.”

“He isn’t with your wife…his mother?”

“No, she’s…she’s, something happened to her.” His eyes averted, staring at the toes of his boots. They were worn, so unlike the rest of his pristine ensemble. It piqued your interest, but you didn’t want to push the friendly boundary barely established with the man.

“Is she okay?” It was quiet, your inquiry. Worry unsettling your stomach for the phantom woman who belonged to the man beside you.

“I hope she will be. It’s a…sensitive thing, that ails her.” His eyes don’t leave yours, gaze strong and glinting with emotion.

“I wish her a full recovery, I’m sure she misses you two by her side.” Breathing out the words, you suspected the man had been about to tell you she had perished. Unsure of why the prospect of him having a person, a partner… a wife seemed to settle heavy in your stomach. But it made sense, he was a handsome man as far as you could tell, his eyes beautiful enough to capture anyone’s attention. His obvious admiration for his son and the care with which he spoke…of course he had someone by his side.

The flare of jealously at the thought made you feel a little foolish as it unnerved you, you only just met this man. You didn’t even know his name. Frowning slightly, you bowed your head, hoping to convey your true condolences for his ailing wife.

“I…can only hope for the same thing.” Something in his forlorn tone didn’t sit well, sticking to the inside of your stomach. It was heavy, his feelings for the woman he spoke of, there was no doubt about it. And while it was endearing, it also felt…wrong. Like he shouldn’t be talking about someone else that way, that it was an odd thing for his focus to be on someone else.

Heat overtook your chest as you tried to push down the ill feelings toward this ailing, phantom woman Because this man was a stranger. A stranger with a cute, little, green child. He was nothing to you, new to the planet perhaps, definitely new to the palace and this line of work. You were sure you would remember such a sparkling set of eyes, accident or not.

Glancing back into your room, you wished they hadn’t brought you so much for lunch. Wanting to share in the abundance of it with someone who could use a little help. Being a guard couldn’t pay well and the man had a child and a sick wife to take care of. The fruit and skewers of marinated meat far too plentiful for just yourself. You didn’t want it to go to waste but you also didn’t want to force any more appetite than you had. Offering it to him would be a good attempt to make sure it didn’t go to waste.

“They brought me a lot of food, would-would you like me to make you a plate?”

“I can’t leave my post.”

“What if you came inside and we sat on the balcony? Furthest place from the door and you would be close enough to me should any threats arise.”

“That sounds very tempting. But it would be a violation for me to leave my post.”

“Oh, okay. That’s okay, I know it’s a lot to ask of you. It’s just…” You couldn’t look up at his face, his eyes that were no doubt still watching you closely. You felt embarrassed for being so forward, for asking this stranger for his time when he was working. Of course he didn’t want to come into your room and share a meal. “No, I understand. Thank you for your service.”

Turning to go back into the room, the door was stopped from closing by a large hand, thick fingers curling around the edge of it.

“I want to, mesh’la. Please don’t mistake that.”

“Can- can I ask for your name?” He paused, eyes looking you up and down as he thought over the positives and negatives of providing you with such information.

“It’s Aliit.”

“Aliit…and?”

“Oh, ad’ika.”

Aliit, Ad’ika, and…”

“Cyar’ika.” Your heartbeat hard in in your chest, so much so that you brought a hand to rest over your chest. The foreign language rolling off your tongue with ease despite never encountering it before meeting this man. They were not in Basic, nor any other language you were aware of knowing or being able to speak.

“Aliit, Ad’ika, and Cyar’ika.” You nodded your head at him, small smile gracing your lips despite the ringing still plaguing you. He bids you a good day, the sound of another guard’s footsteps coming down the hall.

The ringing lasts well into the night.

When it doesn’t abate by the next morning, your mother orders the handmaidens to prepare you for a trip to the medical wing, across the palace grounds. Your door was being guarded by a different guard and you worried you made the man from the market uncomfortable. Your heart sunk as you walked alongside a new woman who was in your services.

She was pretty, her hair dark and long, pulled back away from her face by a thin headscarf of dark blue. Her dress was a light sky blue, accents of the darker shade allowing for her to look beautiful in the ensemble of fabric. Though it didn’t seem like her normal attire, her arms toned and muscled from what had to be years of training and work. Her thighs stocky and thick as they moved underneath the fabric and guided you down the halls and out of the main building. You wondered what turned her to this line of work, if she had been a slave and sold to the palace to work off or cover her debt. You made sure to file the thought away and treat her to lunch each day should she have not much in the other aspects of her life.

The sun shone on her pale skin, and you wondered if she had on some kind of gloss over her plush lips for the glint to them.  

She was pretty and you wanted to let her know. Though after yesterday, you were afraid of being seen as some frivolous princess who didn’t have any friends and needed to turn her attention to those in her service for conversation. Because it was true, you realized with a particularly painful throb of your head, that you didn’t have any friends who had called on you since your accident. Unable to recall if you were a social person before, you resigned yourself to the solitary routine of your life, only meals shared with others in your life.

She was kind, stopping every so often around the grounds as you stopped when the ringing made it hard to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

“I apologize – oh Maker, I don’t even know your name.” You leaned heavily against a stone pillar, head pounding with the incessant ringing. It sounded- at brief moments – like you were surrounding by strong wind, the hush of sand all around so intense or as if you were aboard a ship and flying through the air.

“My name is Cynth, princess.” She was close, close enough to catch you should your balance falter. “It’s okay, though, I’m new, no need to apologize.”

“She doesn’t care what your name is, she’s depending on you to get her to the medical wing, not make small talk.” The other handmaiden interrupted.

“Janae, you know I make a point to know everyone’s names. There’s no need to be so curt.” You lightly reprimanded, wanting everyone to know that you see them as they truly are. Your mother was so short and demanding with the help around the palace, stirring distaste and unease in you that you didn’t want to imitate her. “Please be kind to each other, sometimes that all we have in this universe, is the kindness of those around us. It can be lifesaving, so let’s try a little better, okay?”

“Yes, princess.” Janae bows to you, the fabric of her dress catching the breeze coming through the open corridor.

Moments later, all three of you were entering the medical wing. There was a droid who had to record the time and date of your visit before guiding you to the room you had been in far too much for your liking. Your mother’s perfume was faint, giving away her presence in the examination room. She was vigilant over your recovery, present at any small visit or worry. And you wanted to feel loved and grateful for her worry but it didn’t feel quite so…genuine even if she preached about getting you back to your old self on the daily.

“I-They tell me I had a bad fall, that’s why I don’t really remember anything from before.” You say as the two women helps moves to help you disrobe. But you startle, not liking the sensation of them pulling on your clothing.

“Please, both of you go and enjoy an early dinner. I can manage here by myself.” Cynth quietly ordered, hoping that less people in the room would help to calm you. It was a good judgement call, because as soon as the two nurses left you felt the anxiety skittering over your skin abate. You felt comfortable with her, and she helped you remove the layers of your flowing dress to change into the smock they needed you in to perform their exam and testing.

She was tense, uncomfortable in this setting, nestled in the medical wing alongside you. You could sense it in the cracking of her knuckles as she helped you to shrug on a robe over your undergarments. In the way she watched as a droid came out of the exam room alongside your mother and a man draped in a dark red tunic. Her jaw was clenched as she watched the way you let them guide you into the room they had just come from. The prick of a needle injecting something into your arm already taking effect.

“Cynth, please stay with me? We can get lunch after.”

“Of course, Princess San.”

“Servants are to only use last names when addressing the royal line. Show’s the respect they have for the rulers of the city.” You mothers voice was sharp, a warning simmering low in her words.

“It’s okay.” You slurred as your vision began to fade, edges of everything fuzzy, colors bleeding into each other. “We’re friends, mother.”

“Hush now, darling. You have to keep up the line between servants and your friends are not true if they haven’t come to visit you. We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, mother. My…friend,” At an encouraging smile at the edge of her lips you turned back to your mother. “Cynth is my friend, and I would like for her to remain with me during the day.”

Pursing her lips, she looked like she wanted to contest the request. Refraining from doing so, her lips turned up in a saccharine smile before she ushered you through the doorway into the exam room.

It was expansive, a giant machine taking up one half of the room, a set of three beds lining the other. Cabinets of supplies and a small desk with an electronic bank set up before it.

But the machine, was a blur, the contents of whatever she had administered taking hold fast.  The last thing you recall is glancing over your shoulder over at Cynth and seeing her features morph into a stone caste, eyes hard.

“It’s worse than we thought.” Cara announced as she entered the servants’ quarters. There was an entire wing for them on the second floor of the palace. Dining room, kitchen, ballrooms and throne room all on the first floor. Library and green house rooms, the seamstress and many other “service” rooms set up on the third. The fourth was the bath house and other rooms they had been forbade from approaching. The family bedrooms on the fifth floor, balconies in each one. The medical wing was across the courtyard, outdoor hallways lined with covers supported by thick stone pillars.

Her and Din being assigned to one room with twin cots on opposite walls. Hired at the same time and kept on close tabs during the ‘review process’ to determine where they were to be stationed for their contracts. It had been easy enough, the palace needing to fill holes in security at the behest of your mother. Din had offered his services as a close guard for you, citing that he had experience with protecting high standing individuals. Cara had been automatically assigned to be a handmaiden, you dismissing one earlier that week for some reason that went unexplained.

Din looked up from where he was tending to ad’ika, the small being agitated beyond comforting. As if he could sense you were close by but too far for him to see and interact with. He missed you, he craved your calming presence and easy going care for him, Din suspected. He knows he did, the you before the manipulation, before the kidnapping, before he had gone and fucked it all up and allowed for this to happen to you.

“Her mother’s found and employed an ex-Empire director, they’ve constructed a mind flayer in the medical wing.  San undergoes ‘exams’ twice a month under the close supervision of two nurse droids and the director.” Cara took in the way Din stiffened, his mind going over everything he knew of such machines only rumored to be still in operation. Of the atrocities committed in the name of getting back to a peaceful time of before the Empire’s rule by using the very same technology they had invented.

“Did her mother stay in the room?” His distaste bordering on hatred marring his words, giving away his feelings of the woman who dared to call herself your guardian and caretaker these days. He never thought himself capable of unaltered hate, but here he was. He could only go far as to guess it had to do with the same feelings he never expected to feel towards another, of falling for someone as completely as he had done with you. But of course, he had gone and messed everything up. Tainted the happy memories he had allowed himself to create with you after suck a rocky and tentative start after finding you shackled in that compound.

It was only every supposed to be another job, another quarry to collect and deliver. Instead he had found the child, found you. Managing through lack of cognitive thinking and examination of his feelings causing him to return the child only to decimate his professional career and standing in order to right his wrongs. He thought he had learned his lesson, only to repeat it with you.

“No, she left. But she does administer the sedative. I’m sure we can somehow take over those ‘exams’.”

“We have to.” His voice was firm, emotions in check as he moved to sit atop his cot. “We have to stop the sessions, it’s the only way her mind can heal itself and she can remember.”

“I think she’s already beginning to, something about her abilities wearing down the effects of the flayer quicker than her mother can keep up with. She’s complained of a headache since we got here, since she interacted with the kid in the marketplace.”

“Then we need to find a way to have her interact with him more, shift her memory back into place.”

“…she’s so quiet, constantly on alert. Taking stock of everything going on around her. I swear her mind is working more than she’s letting on. She was watching me this morning, almost as if she was trying to figure out if she recognized me from somewhere.” Cara theorizes as she recalls the way you were when she had first met you, back on K’ath.

“She…she said I feel familiar to her.” Din admitted quietly, his heart skipping a beat as he recalled the way you had looked at him. The worry of offending him with your honesty, with your relief of realizing you knew him from the marketplace, of feeling like you were able to ask him things you couldn’t of others.

Stealing glances down each hallway, you make your way through the palace on quiet feet. The only sound to give you away is the hush of your dress layers brushing against your legs. In your hand is lighting agent you had snatched from Prince Cala’s office. The low thrumming of a headache still present after your visit to the medical wing and subsequent night of unconsciousness, though it wasn’t nearly as debilitating as it had been yesterday. With bated breath, you turn into the expansive and lush nursery.

Hiding in a corner, you push on the glass panel of the large windows and breath in the hot, humid air to calm yourself. Reaching into the pouch hidden beneath your layers, you retrieve one of the tabac rolls you had requested from a handmaiden. She had frowned at the way you had asked her to keep it from your mother, but the second you lit the end of it and inhaled, all of your colliding thoughts vanished. It was a guilty pleasure you were sure wouldn’t look good to the public eye. But one you weren’t willing to give up. One you were sure was something from the time before your accident.

Steps that were nearly silent caught your attention and you looked toward the arching doorway, the clear glass paneling of it nearly visible from your hidden spot. A figure was pushing them open, hinges squealing slightly as a familiar voice called out your name.

Sighing, you shifted slightly, giving away your spot hidden among the lush greenery. You dress allowing you to blend in. It was made of a transparent layer of tulle over smooth silk, lighter green than the leaves around you. But the flowers sewn into the fabric allowed you to blend in with those that were blooming among so many of the plants too sensitive to be out in the courtyard, out in the direct heat and sunlight of the unforgiving desert sun.

Allit came into view, his eyes taking in the sight of you looking slightly nervous as you were found out smoking in a room that you definitely should not be. But it was the only one your mother wouldn’t follow you into, the perfumes of the flowers too much for her sensitive nose.

 “Apologies, I thought I heard someone in here but it’s an odd hour for me to be up an about. Instincts took over.” He motions to the sleeping form in his arms before setting ad’ika down atop a bench. You feel for him, how tired he must be from watching the child during the day and then standing guard all night.

“I could, I mean, if you don’t-“ You cut yourself off, knowing it was a breech of the already muddled professional line between you both. Instead, you take another drag of the tabac before putting out the inch remaining from the roll and depositing it into an empty planter under the window sill.

“What is it, mesh’la?” His eyes find yours, genuine curiosity swirling in them as he approached you.

“I could watch him for you, if you’re okay with that. I know how tiring the night shift must be. Gives you a chance to rest in the mornings and gives me a little company.” Embarrassment at the care your exhibiting prickles the hairs on the back of your neck on along your arms swathed in sheer fabric. If you were being completely honest, you needed a distraction from the routine of your life. Wanting to feel like you were doing something, helping someone. The company of the child something you had been thinking about after a few passing interactions.

“I think…he would like that.”

“Make sure he has a balanced breakfast and enough entertainment to sleep soundly in the evenings.”

“He’d like that too.”

“And you?”

His eyes bore into yours, something in them that trapped the breath in your throat and your fingers itch to reach out.

“I’d like that very much.”

You feel the urge to reach out and pull him to you, he’s already so close. His broad body angled towards you, his eyes locked on your form, as if he’s seeing the skin hidden beneath the layers. Anticipation titters through you as you see the faint movement of his jaw twitching beneath the fabric draped over his face. Without realizing it, you had reached out, fingers skimming the outline of his cheek hidden from view. His eyes fluttered shut, his own hand coming up to gently clasp over your wrist. Though he made no move to step away or remove your hand.

“Apologies,” You jerk your fingers away, aware that he was not yours to touch, his skin not yours to caress your fingers over, his lips not yours to kiss. He belonged to another and so did you.

“You don’t have to apologize, mesh’la.”

“I-I feel like I know you, but I…I don’t and you belong to another.” You step back from him, the leaves of the leaves all around hushing as you did so. But he follows, step for step until your back is against the wall. But you don’t feel caged in or uncomfortable. You feel desire swirl in your middle, heat thrum just under your skin. He’s closer than he had been before, his chest flush with yours and his hands holding yours down by your waist, fingers tangled together. His eyes are sparkling when they meet yours, the brown of them lit up from the sun shining in through the large windows.

Your breath catches in your throat, nerves alight and you feel like you were floating.

“I do and I do not.” He says cryptically. But you have no chance to decipher the meaning behind his words as the bright jingle of your handmaiden’s bracelets float into the room from the hall.

“Princess? Your bath has been drawn if you wish to get ready for bed.” Her voice calls into the room, unable to see you hidden among the plants. With a lingering look, you separate from Aliit and make your way towards the door.

“Princess Cala, your mother and fiancé have made it very clear that you are not to be left alone. Especially in a place as vulnerable as the bath house.” Janea was trying not to overstep her place, but she was doing her best to uphold the orders she had been given.

“I’ll be fine, I just need a moment to myself. Please understand.”

“I would feel better if there was a guard just inside the door, the tapestries will keep you hidden.” The visceral urge to demand she leave and drop the subject was strong and you choked down the harsh words before they burst from your lips. The thought of someone being in the same room with you as you disrobe and bathe not settling well with you at all. Instincts flaring and the urge to fight making your muscles tense.

“I can call on Sir Aliit? I know you feel comfortable with him, he would never hurt you or put you in harm’s way.” Something flared in your chest- nervousness, excitement, at the thought of Aliit being close by. Of the man keeping an eye out for you while you were at your most vulnerable.

“He’s the night guard, it’s still too early for his shift.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, Princess. He is dutiful and committed to keeping you safe.” Cynth spoke up, having been waiting at the entrance of the room for you.

“O-okay, call on him then. Please.”

Moments later, the quiet steps of the man can be heard in the hallway accompanied by the soft, incoherent babbling of his child.

“I’m sorry, he wasn’t quite ready for bed.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” You lilt, reaching for the wiggling figure in his grip. Cooing softly, the child began to giggle at the tresses of your loose hair, reaching to wrap his fingers in them. Small face buried in your neck his muffled sounds still lift into the air. “He’s just a lil fussy, nothing a warm bath won’t fix. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, that’s not nece-“

“I don’t mind, I said I’d offer to help with him. It must be hard caring for him all on your own.” You smile at Aliit, taking note of the hands he had been stretching to collect his child back. Off to the side, Cynth is taking in the scene with a quirk of her lips. Having taken over watching you while Janae had gone to fetch the guard you were beginning to think of more than was appropriate.

Steam fills the expansive room, ornate stone walls covered in glittering and shimmering tapestries. The rich neutral tones highlighted by sapphire blues, bright turquoise, and deep oranges of tiles set in mesmerizing designs along the lips and edges of the large bath. It could easily fit four to five people, more of a sauna than a typical refresher. But it was peaceful in the room, even if you were hyper aware of the stoic form of Aliit on the other side of the cloth wall where a few tapestries had been drawn closed.

Ad’ika is gurgling away happily as you lower his small body into the water. It was a little too deep for him, but you had found a small floating cushion for him that was working as a makeshift raft for him to sit atop and be submerged up to his belly button. One of his little three fingered claws was wrapped around your arm and you felt the same energy from the marketplace flow into you. But instead of overwhelming you, it made you feel calm and collected. Centered.

You feel…comfortable around him despite not being too fond of children. And then there was his father.

Allit made you feel so much more like yourself, even despite being a little unaware of who that might be exactly. More so than anyone else in your constructed life, more so than Prince Cala. Something that sits in the forefront of your mind as the days drag on and your memory remains foggy. You were glad for him, even if he was a new addition to the routine and frankly, boring agenda your life was structured around. The man was tall, silent. Easy strength and skill obvious in his every move, in the velvet of his deep voice, the warmth of his eyes. But it didn’t unnerve you like the other guards, who seemed to be watching your every move. The hint of hidden directives underlying their attention and postings.

But Aliit…he was willing to converse with you. To allow you to speak with him as an equal without pointing out that it was unbecoming of royalty to do so. He answered your questions, and you could sense he had some of his own, sometimes letting them slip from the lips you wish you could see beneath the fabric covering his mouth. Masks weren’t part of the uniform, but he constantly had one in place. It was both comforting to know he was confident enough to feel like he could continue to bear it, and if you were honest…it was a little thrilling to find that he was willing to open up to you despite it.

The front of the room had cushioned benches, even a table filled with sweets and dips partnered with flat breads. Almost as if it were a living room or lounge room to idle in. But you had ignored it to delve further into the room. The bath was set up along the back wall, the right lined with shower heads resembling ferocious animal heads, mouths open in roars to allow for the water to flow from them.

Busing yourself with lathering up a loofa, you smiled down at the giggling child. He was so happy, so easy to please. Unbridled joy easy to draw from him as you had offered him to smell each of the bathing oil and soap options until he had liked one. He picked a lightly floral scent, one that reminded you of blooming trees from the time of before your accident. A rich, woodsy scent with the underlying current of it.

Once you were sure he was scrubbed clean, his laughter at the tickling sensation making warmth bloom in your chest, you wished for this to be your life. To spend your days with the child and his father, as if this was a normal occurrence for the trio you made. Taking pleasure in the small things, in the calm of a daily routine.

Rinsing him off in the bath, you wrapped him in a towel. Sending him to sit atop a stone bench a few feet from the baths edge, you began to lather up a second loofa with the same soap. Once you were covered in suds, you stood from the water. Stepping over the edge, a jolt of pain made you lose your balance, and you knocked over the bottle of soap as you tried to catch yourself.

“San?” Allit was suddenly pulling back the colorful tapestries that divided the room. You stilled as you were hunched over and reaching for the bottle where it had sunk to the bottom of the bath. His eyes widened just a fraction at the sight of your skin on display, bubbles covering very little from view. Arousal throbbed deep in your middle, tingling across your heated skin at the brief feeling of his eyes roving over your skin.

Your stomach jolted at the idea of him seeing you, his eyes taking in the scene before him.

“Apologies!” He choked out before receding back a little and facing away from you, though he didn’t disappear from view. “I thought, I was just checking to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m-yes, of course. Just- yes.” You stuttered, unsure where the sudden feeling of arousal had come from, of why him seeing you in nothing hadn’t ignited the same sense of fear and instinct to fight as the mere intention of your handmaiden’s helping you to disrobe. “We’re both okay, just knocked something over.”

“Copy that, yeah.” His voice so smooth as it washed over you. “I’ll…leave you to it, then.”

And he was gone, leaving you in that same hunched over position. Your heart was beating quickly, blood rushing in your ears, body alight with tingling arousal. With a sigh, you berated yourself for the sudden feelings as your hand wrapped around the bottle and put it back in the little basket with the rest of the soaps and oils.

“I demand to see my fiancé!” A booming voice could be heard in the back of the bath. The hush of conversation following the shout drowned out by the running of water as you washed off in one of the stalls. Ad’ika was wrapped in a towel, sitting half asleep and waiting for you to redress him. Wrapping your own towel around your damp body, you drew back the fabric enclosing the stall only to come face to face with both Aliit and Prince Cala. Both had crossed the threshold into the marbled portion of the bath.

“Oh!”

“My dear princess, your guard needs to be informed he is to break your requests in favor of mine. If I wish to see you, I am able to despite you saying you wish to not be disturbed.” He didn’t offer apologies for intruding on your privacy, bouldering his way further into the room despite the glare being aimed at him from beneath thick brows.

“Y-yes, my heart. I-I apologize.” Tightening the hold of the towel around your body, you were hyperaware of this being the most exposed you had been in front of the man who was to be your husband. It didn’t stir any feelings of excitement or arousal in you, instead you felt nausea rise to prickle your skin in an uncomfortable chill.

“You are not to be left alone under any circumstances, do you hear me?” The man stepped forward, his hand reaching for your bare shoulder. You ignored the urge to back away from him, aware of Aliit watching the scene unfold just a few steps behind him, of the energy flowing from him as he obviouslt disagreed with the way things were unfolding. Cala didn’t seem to mind the gaze of the other man as he stepped up to you, hand snaking around your shoulders while his other slipped underneath your towel to grasp at your bare waist. Eyes downcast, you let him touch you. He hadn’t raised a hand to you or given you reason to think he would harm you.

“Even if you are bathing, a guard or handmaiden is to be within viewing range. I don’t care if he’s to see you, you are far too fragile to be left to your own devices.” Humiliation floods you, heating you too much to bear as the steam of the room and the hot water of the bath begins to stifle you. You choke on a response, eyes downcast as you can’t bring yourself to look up from the stone floor. But he didn’t like that, the way you were stuck and unresponsive. “You look at me when I speak to you.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You brought your gaze up to his face, glancing behind his shoulder at the other man before focusing on your intended’s eyes. “I apologize for-“

“You are to dress and go to my quarters.” His hand slid down your damp skin, fingers brushing against the thatch of hair over your most intimate area. You gasped out, he had never even so much as kissed you unprompted. And even then, it was always chaste. But this side of him…it was bound to come to light, he was a man after all and you were to be his. His eyes dilated at the feel of your silken folds as his fingers skimmed over your skin.

“Yes, s-sir.”

“Ensure she dresses appropriately, guard. Maker, I don’t care if you have to force the clothing onto her, she should look fitting for the night ahead of her.” He cocked his head to the side at the resounding silence of the room, tension so thick it was only adding to the overwhelming heat. Dark eyes narrowing, Cala’s grip tightened, bordering on almost painful as he demanded an answer. “Guard, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Came the quick reply from the man behind him. Voice devoid of all emotion, velvet given way to gravel.

Smirking in satisfaction, Cala moved in a rather harsh swipe of his fingers up through your folds, catching on the hood of your cunt. You couldn’t tamp down the startled cry as the tips of them brushed over your clit, more painful than scintillating. Before you could even register the move, he was turning away from you and stomping out the door.

He delivered one last command over his shoulder.

“There are wrapped presents that have been delivered to your closet. Dress her from one of those, I expect to see you in less than an hour.”

The second the door shut at the front of the room, your knees gave out and you found yourself crumbling to the ground. Strong arms softened the blow, cradling you close to a sturdy body, keeping your towel wrapped around your trembling body. Humiliation overwhelmed you, anxiety rising something awful in you as you sunk into the warmth of the body holding you close. He didn’t stir anything in you, his touch comforting and tight around you.

“I’ve got you, mesh’la.” Allit’s deep voice soothed as he pulled you to him, body so close and encasing you. But you didn’t feel trapped or caged, you felt comforted by his closeness. You opened your mouth to assure him you were okay, but a wet hiccup was what fell from your lips.

Time passes and your memory still does not return. You’ve resigned yourself to this choreographed dance of your life. Breakfast with your mother, who tends to watch you so closely you feel like a creature on display. She bids you a good day before going about her business, something she claims is left over from your lives before you got entangled with the prince of the planet’s sole city. She had yet to allow you to share in her work, her craftmanship of forging armor pieces of chainmail. You often felt restless, thinking the act of participating would help to sooth you, help you to focus.

You dream of making pieces of armor, of donning others. The smooth metal cool underneath your fingertips eliciting both mundane things and…rather debauched thoughts of a large body pulling pleasure from you as easy as breathing.

You occupy yourself with walks through the gardens, of watching over Aliit’s child during the day before handing off the tiny creature who could barely keep his eyes open to the man before joining your intended for dinner. A nightcap with your mother, often tea since she insisted caf before sleeping was bad for your condition. But it was the stolen moments with Cynth and Aliit that you looked forward to the most.

The handmaiden often accompanying you during your walks, soft conversations of her time before being employed by the palace. Of the things she’s lived and endured. You feel very close with her, almost friendly with her as you often share lunch.

Aliit often gave in to your requests for him to sit in the lounge area of your room or out on the balcony in the late hours of the night. Sleep evading you as surreal and vivid dreams plagued you, making it hard to lay back down once you were waking from them with gasping breath and confusing thoughts.

You don’t dwell on the happenings of the night Cala demanded of you. He hadn’t touched you, not beyond his harsh and brash show of possession in the bath house. But the things he had said to you and the way he demanded you touch him had been something you hadn’t wanted. His once chaste kisses turning into his tongue breaking the seal of your lips as he bid you goodnight at the end of each dinner as he dropped you off at your bedroom door. It all felt like a show, a way to display his possession of you to the man who was your night guard. But despite his now harsh kisses that stole your breath in the worst way, you worried for Aliit having to witness the behavior. It had been…something you didn’t like to think about.

It was definitely something you didn’t talk about. With anyone.

The only consolation was that your headaches seemed to abate, the ringing in your ears no longer springing up at random moments. Despite being your night guard, Aliit was now a prominent figure that accompanied you to each visit to the medical wing. They were still as foggy as the memories of your time before the accident, but you felt something shift inside. Mind no longer seeming to work in overdrive to recall things, errant memories of traveling to unknown places alongside faintly familiar figures becoming something you felt throughout the days. 

You were consumed by the mere thought of Aliit on the other side of your bedroom door. He often started the night off inside the room, heeding the orders of Prince Cala. Though he often stepped outside once you fell asleep, the door right behind him should he need to retreat at the sound of footsteps to keep up appearances. He was always so serious, so still. Never moving at the errant sounds of the palace. Of the other guards doing their rounds within the many halls. Always on alert, though his eyes hardly moved to give it away.

“I know it’s late,” You started to say as you opened the bedroom door. Aliit was immediately turning to face you, his hands clasped behind his back. “But do you want to come in for some tea?”

“Of course, mesh’la.”

He busied himself readying the tea in the small nook that housed a hotplate and a kettle, giving you a moment of peace to gather yourself from your most recent almost waking dream. You had been in a different desert, at a different time. Alone. It hadn’t been anything spectacular, you had simply been living out a day with a routine that felt like it had once been your reality.

“Can I be honest with you, since we’ve…bonded over our shared time?”

“You can share anything with me and I’ll listen, mesh’la.” His voice, his words always so sincere with you, it caused warmth to flare in your chest. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating voicing the thoughts that had been consuming you lately. The twice a month check ups having been unsupervised by your mother, Aliit and Cynth taking over those duties. Ever since they had entered the palace you felt…like something was off kilter. But you also felt like… some things were beginning to shift into focus.

You recalled the feeling of heat from a different desert, from a different time in your life. The same from so many of your dreams. Countered by the plush landscape ripe with trees and temperate air. Dreams that felt all too real consumed your sleeping hours, a blurry figure swathed in shining metal beginning to appear beside you in each one.

And while you didn’t know why or how, you began to associate the same sense of calm and comfortability the figure stirred in you with that of Aliit beside you more and more. You let your eyes wander over his seated form now, beside you in the small longue area across from your bed. The room was still far too expansive, making you feel like a bird trapped in a gilded cage as your mother prohibited you from leaving the palace grounds more and more as the wedding loomed near.

“I…I don’t feel like this is my life. I feel like I belong somewhere else, with someone else.”

His eyes soften, the brown of them comforting as they watch you struggle to find the right words. You don’t feel as if he is waiting for something, like so many others you interact with. He seems to hold genuine interest in what you have to say, never glossing over anything even if it seems childish or meaningless.

“I can’t explain it, it just feels like…there’s something more for me. And I know I should be happy here, it’s a beautiful planet, the stars are so bright at night, the ocean is so clear. Anything I need is just a request away, my intended is very attentive and wants for me to have nothing. Even if he’s…altered the way we spend some of our time together. My mother, she cares for me despite my memory of her being foggy. But…Maker, I feel like this is all wrong. Like I belong somewhere else that I can’t recall. That the person meant to be beside me…is someone else. And I feel homesick for the things I can’t remember. For the lands and planets I see in my dreams. For the figure beside me in each and every one.”  

You can sense that he has something to say, but he remains quiet. His eyes the only thing speaking in the comfortable silence of your bedroom. Too many words and thoughts swirling behind the chocolate depths as they regard you. He only offers them and a hand for you to reach out to, sliding your fingers between his and reveling in the warmth of his skin against yours. After a long while, his soothing voice comforts you in a way that takes your breath away.

“We’ll get you back to feeling like yourself, where you belong. I swear it to you, mesh’la.” He shifted from his own chair to sit atop the low table, heights almost matched now. He leaned forward, but you didn’t shy away from him, giving into the moment when he pressed his clothed forehead to yours. Breath hitching, your eyes fluttered shut, unable to take in the emotions swirling behind his beautiful eyes as they caught the lanterns light. He felt…he felt familiar. More like the shape of the man you had been feeling when you first woke up, though you knew it to be a trick of your imagination. How could you possible feel such a connection with a stranger you had only met after your accident when your memory was something hidden deep inside of you or gone altogether?

“Th-thank you, ner kar’ta.” The foreign words falling from your lips surprise you as much as they seem to do him. You repeat them in a questioning tone, his hand tightening around yours. Your eyes flew open, gentle sentiment behind the words not lost on you in that moment. Hope was shining in the man’s eyes, so close…even as he leans back to look you over.

“Do you know what that means?” You could tell that he holds back other questions, other concerns as he regards you with a hardness behind his eyes. But it isn’t aimed at you, the ire you see flare up in their depths. It’s never for you, the things you see flicker in them. He only ever offers you the softest version of himself. Enough so that Cynth has begun to tease you of it during your time together during the day.

“I-I think it means ‘my heart’.” You hesitate, feeling like it’s far too intimate a sentiment for someone who is not your intended. But you feel it, in the very depths of your soul, that it is okay to call the man sitting beside you so.

“It does.” He almost sounds proud and you rather like the tone coming from him. It stirs something low in your stomach, almost as strong as that once occurrence of arousal before everything shifted between you Prince Cala.

“I don’t know why I said that, I don’t…even know what language that is. How-“

“Ner kar’ta, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” His eyes don’t leave yours, filling you up with something you don’t think you’ve ever felt, fragmented memory seeming to stitch together at the flash of emotion. Suddenly, you feel the gentle breeze and cresting sunlight and you’re standing in the midst of an open field. A figure is standing before you, decked head to toe in beautiful, shining armor with their hands held out in front of them in a placating manner. The silver swathed figure from your dreams in full focus now as you hold Aliit’s hand in yours. Fingers feeling the warmth of him as they caress his skin, the energy from him that is so soothing. Behind him is the shadow of a large ship and you long to be back there in that moment even as it feels both hauntingly foreign and familiar to you.

“What is going on here? You’re supposed to be at your post protecting my daughter.” The harsh voice of your mother surges into the room from the now open doorway. You spring from the man beside you, heart beating harshly in your chest, a barrage of emotions flaring in you. The rattling of the fine porcelain on the low table separating you startling you. Your eyes move from the vibrating cups and plates to the man beside you, and then to the glaring and obviously upset form of your mother.

“He’s following the orders of Prince Cala, who explicitly stated that I am to be supervised at all times, mother.”

“I highly doubt the prince instructed this man to dote such attention on you to the point of holding your hand in the middle of the night!”

Anger and distaste for the woman across from you flares hot over your entire body, energy igniting inside of you that feels both far too familiar and far too foreign. The very same energy you had been feeling more and more in the things and people around you, almost as if it was a secondary thing to breathing, to existing. The glare marring her features twists in your mind and you feel the weight of heavy metal around your wrists, your ankles, your neck. You feel the phantom dredge of something chemical buzzing in your veins and you know- you know that she’s the cause for such sensations.

“I want to know exact details of my accident.” You demand, aware of Aliit standing at attention behind you, his muscles tense just as yours are. Though you do not fear him, you fear the woman who calls herself your mother. Pushing through, you meet her eyes with your own and something in your own expression surprises her. Feeding off of that genuine reaction, not something that seems so calculated, you demand of her, “I want to know what happened to me.”

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taglist: @clevergirl74 @strawberri-blonde @js-favnanadoongi @littlemisspascal @moonknight-s-cumdump @bookloverkat @golden-mando @beskarandblasters @feral-ferrule @bearsbeetsbeskar @76bookworm76 @anoverwhelmingdin @sarap-77 @picassopedro @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @genetics4life @mosssbawls@vivian-pascal

#dev writes #fic: of beskar and kyber #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin series #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #din is in disguise #bodyguard x princess #princess fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #force sensitive! reader #jedi survivor #jedi reader #order 66 #order 66 survivor #din and grogu #mando and grogu #grogu

[feralsunspotandtincan]

Luke: *calling from the kitchen* Hey, Sweetie, I'm making some pancakes. Do you want some?

Din: That sounds great, Cyar'ika, thanks.

Luke: Okay <3

*A loud thud is heard*

Din: What the hell was that?

Luke: The flour!

Din: That sounded heavy, how many pancakes are you making?

Luke:

Din: Luke, how many pancakes are you making.

One Hour Later:

Luke: I call it Mount Pancake.

Din: Baby, I love you, but what. The. Fuck. How many of these are you even going to eat?

Luke: :)

Din: Stop smiling like that.

Luke: :)

*The pancakes are gone by noon. Din got three.*

#Luke's stomach is a sarlacc pit in disguise #Din loves him and tries not to think about the number of laws of physics Luke breaks on a daily basis #dinluke #luke skywalker #din djarin

[trevlad-sounds]

Sunday 18 June 2023 12 pm Mixtape 326 “Stream of Biscuits”

2023-06-18

Afterhour electronic retro lounge

Wednesdays, Fridays & Sundays. Support the artists and labels. Don't forget to tip so future shows can bloom.

Binaural Space-Robot Soul-00:00

d'Voxx-The Place Where There Is No Darkness-1:51

Soylent Green-After All-06:47

Keloko-Verde-13:04

Harmonische-23-Broken Biscuits-14:52

Romare-A Hold-19:30

Ardala-Halls of Antiquity-24:51

Vague Imaginaires-La Plage Sous les Arbres-29:54

Harvey Sutherland-New Paradise-35:45

Monochrome Echo-Resolution-42:20

Dawn of Midi-Algol-46:38

The Night Monitor-Time Lapse-50:47

Christian Kleine-Touch & Fuse-52:47

Primary Mystical Experience-Stream of Life-58:08

#Binaural Space #d'Voxx #DiN #Soylent Green #MR BONGO #Keloko #Harmonische-23 #A Person Disguised As People #Romare #Ardala #Vague Imaginaires #12th Isle #Harvey Sutherland #Monochrome Echo #Spun Out Of Control #Dawn of Midi #The Night Monitor #Fonolith #Christian Kleine #A Strangely Isolated Place #Primary Mystical Experience #Mystery Circles #nowlistening #electronica #electronicmusic

[frie-ice]

This crossover ship (or friendship) collage of Walter Beckett and Din Song was inspired by two edit/manips I came across one night on Gramhir, and forgot to save a link to it. As well as a few YouTube videos on the two or include them among next to other young CGI characters. I thought calling this ship/friendship "WalDin" or "Dinter."

#crossover #crossover collage #collage #crossover ship #crossover friendship #shipping #friendship #slash #walter beckett #din song #spies in disguise #wish dragon

[imblocking-you]

I'm gonna read Payback manhwa, it seems nice

#grabe kuhang kuha ng manhwa na 'to gigil ko (in a good way lmao) #ch 2 p lmg may gusto na kong sakalin #myeongshin dadating din araw mo #ahhh i love revenge plots #i hope this goes well :D #the weak to strong plot really hits #ahh songhan you really need some kindness from the world :(( #HALA KAGWAPO NI JAY MAY DIMPLES #the audacity off rich people to just do whatever they want really #of* #WHAT IS HIS DEAL #this is a poorly disguised plot of those manhuas where a girl sleeps with a ceo runs away and gets obsessively chased by him fr #// maple #manhwa #payback #i like his way of getting around things his manipulativeness(?) is interesting #this manhwa is totally not the vibe that i first got from it #i think it's really my type now that i've started it #nakakalimutan ko na dati siyang blonde lmao #him not knowing what a psychopath is 😭 #ang weird nito tho kung may nakakakilala sayo from the past tas tinawag si yoo songhan d mo alam kung titingin ka ba o hindi lmao #one should know never to insult someone in a suit #and he was literally addressed as director yoo when talking with myeongshin? #also him being so happy getting to use the word psychopath #somehow #payback is just the perfect thing to read at my mental state #so thankful for the urge to read it #handsome hobo look 😭 #any haircut looks nice on him #but this one made him brighter

[suguae]

ain't no saint...but we pretend to be .ᐟ

જsynopsis. you aren't as innocent as suguru assumed.

જpairings. g. suguru x fem! reader

જcontents. mdni! masturbation, oral, male receiving oral.

Suguru's chuckle was a low rumble, accompanied by the flick of the joint's butt cast into the shadows. His eyes, a flicker of mischief, remained fixed on his white-haired companion, Satoru. "She's a cute one, no doubt. But innocent? Oh, unquestionably," he mused, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk. "The canvas of her experiences remains pristine and untouched for sure."

Satoru raised an eyebrow at Suguru's comment, a smirk playing on his lips. "You never know, Suguru. Sometimes the innocent ones surprise you." He took a drag from his own joint, exhaling the smoke slowly. "Besides, experience isn't everything."

His gaze remained fixed on Satoru, his white hair gleaming under the muted glow. "Yeah, then why don't you give her a go," he mumbled, his words punctuated by the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air, a testament to the joint he had just finished. There was a playful challenge in his tone, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he awaited Satoru's response.

Satoru chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes as he took another drag from his joint. "Oh, Suguru, my dear friend," he said, the smoke swirling around him like a shroud of secrets. "Some canvases are best left unmarked. Besides," he added with a sly grin, "I prefer to be with those who can keep up."

As Satoru and Suguru headed back into the lively party, laughter and music greeted them at the door. The atmosphere was electric, the air filled with excitement and energy. They exchanged nods and casual greetings with familiar faces as they made their way deeper into the crowd.

Unbeknownst to them, the party happened to be hosted by your older brother.

Suguru's footsteps echoed softly as he navigated the lively party, his eyes scanning the crowd in search of you, despite his earlier declaration to Satoru that he wouldn't dare mess with someone like you. Yet, as the music pulsed and laughter filled the air, you remained elusive, your absence noticeable to him.

Unable to shake the curiosity gnawing at him, Suguru excused himself from Satoru's side and began to wander through the familiar halls of your brother's home, his steps guided by an instinct. Eventually, he found himself standing before the closed door of your bedroom, hesitating for a moment before rapping his knuckles against the wood.

"Hey, it's Suguru," he called out, his voice low but audible over the din of the party. "Mind if I come in?"

There was a moment of silence before the door creaked open just a crack, revealing your curious gaze on the other side. Suguru offered you a sheepish smile, his expression softened by a hint of vulnerability. "Sorry to bother you," his voice sincere.

Suguru's breath caught in his throat as the door swung open further, revealing you standing before him in an outfit that sent his mind reeling. The sight of you in one of the shortest skirts you owned, paired with a revealing top, ignited a flurry of thoughts and desires within him that he struggled to contain.

For a moment, he was speechless, his eyes tracing the contours of your figure with a hunger he couldn't disguise. The soft glow of the room accentuated every curve and exposed inch of skin, leaving him feeling utterly captivated by your presence.

"Suguru?" Your voice broke through his reverie, pulling him back to reality. There was a hint of amusement in your tone, as if you could sense the effect you were having on him.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Uh, sorry," he managed, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, with all the chaos downstairs."

Your lips quirked into a knowing smile, and for a moment, Suguru felt a surge of embarrassment wash over him. But beneath it all, there was an undeniable spark of attraction that lingered between you, begging to be explored.

As Suguru stood there, still slightly flustered from the unexpected encounter, you took matters into your own hands. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you gently pulled him into your bedroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

"The party's fine, really," you assured him, your voice low and inviting. "But I just prefer it in here, away from all the chaos."

Before Suguru could respond, you found yourself unable to resist the temptation any longer. With a playful grin, you pushed him back against the plushie-filled pink bed, the soft fabric enveloping him as he landed with a surprised laugh.

His eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of amusement and excitement dancing in their depths. You hovered over him, your proximity sparking a palpable tension between you as you met his gaze with a daring smirk.

In that moment, the world outside your bedroom faded away, leaving only the two of you and the electric energy that crackled between your bodies. With a soft chuckle, Suguru reached up to pull you closer, his lips curving into a knowing smile as he surrendered to the irresistible pull of the moment.

"You reek of weed by the way," you remarked casually, your voice tinged with amusement as you sauntered across the room. The soft glow of the fairy lights accentuated the curve of your silhouette, casting a spell over Suguru as he watched you move with effortless grace.

With a playful grin, you reached for your collection of fragrances, the bottles arranged neatly on a vanity table. The delicate clink of glass echoed in the air as you selected a strawberry-scented perfume, the fruity aroma dancing on the breeze as you sprayed it into the air.

Suguru couldn't tear his gaze away as you turned back to face him, the scent enveloping you in a tantalizing cloud. But it wasn't just the fragrance that captivated him; it was the way you moved, every sway of your hips a silent invitation.

"Better?" you asked, a hint of mischief in your voice as you met his gaze.

He nodded, his eyes drinking in every detail of you, from the subtle curve of your lips to the playful glint in your eyes. "Much better," he replied, his voice husky with desire.

As Suguru's desire surged, he closed the distance between you with an almost reckless abandon. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer until there was barely an inch of space between your bodies. The air crackled with electricity as his lips crashed against yours in a fervent kiss, hungry and urgent.

You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you melted into the kiss, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path.

The world around you faded into oblivion as you lost yourself in the intoxicating heat of the moment. Time seemed to stand still as you and Suguru became lost in a whirlwind of passion, the boundaries between you blurring until there was only the two of you and the raw intensity of your connection.

With a sly smirk, your hand snaked down Suguru's chest, fingers dancing over firm muscles and trailing hot whispers along his skin.

Your voice dropped lower, filled with a mixture of lust and amusement, “I've always wanted you, Suguru," your words sending a shiver down his spine as you pulled him closer. Your eyes locked with his gaze, unwavering as you added, "And now I finally have you all to myself."

Suguru found himself growing rock hard in response to your words and dominant demeanor, Suguru couldn't help but be surprised and turned on. He had never seen you like this, and as you pressed your body against his, he released a low moan, "I...”

You felt your lips curl into a giggle as you watched Suguru struggle to find his words while under the influence of your sudden display of dominance. You pressed your advantage, your fingers tracing teasing patterns along the front of his pants.

As you pulled down Suguru's pants, his long and veiny cock sprang free, catching you by complete surprise. The sight of him sent a jolt of pure desire straight to your core. "Wow," you breathed, taking in the size and girth of him.

Despite the sheer size of him, you didn't hesitate to wrap your plump, peachy lips around Suguru's tip. You teased the head of his cock with your tongue, savoring the taste of his pre-cum.

You could hear the loud music from the party outside mixing with Suguru's throaty grunts and moans as you eagerly sucked him off. Your plump lips glided up and down his length, the veins on his shaft standing out from your tight grip.

"Fuck Y/N," Suguru whimpered, his voice thick with pleasure as he grabbed a chunk of your hair, gently guiding your head further down his shaft, making sure to give you every inch of his long and veiny cock.

As you sucked Suguru off, you couldn't help but slide a finger or two down to your wet and throbbing clit. Vigorously rubbing the pearl, letting out soft whimpers as the pleasure built up inside of you.

Suguru felt himself getting closer to the edge, the vibrations from your soft whimpers only adding to the pleasure. "Keep it going, princess," he groaned, losing his words as you took him deeper in her mouth. "Ah!"

In a matter of seconds, your cute face was covered in Suguru's white, hot cum. He tried to distinguish what just happened as the cute and innocent girl he knew turned out to be such a dirty little slut.

A string of cum dangled from your lip, but you didn’t care. With a flick of your tongue, it was gone. You smiled at Suguru, not ashamed of what you had just done at all. The smeared cum on your lips was proof of your enjoyment.

Suguru felt his heart race. He had never experienced such an intense and passionate moment like this. And it wasn't just physical pleasure, but an emotional release as well. Seeing you like this, so wild and unashamed... it was incredible.

Yeah, it was the first time seeing you like this—but Suguru had a gut feeling that this definitely wasn’t gonna be the last.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #geto smut #suguru #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto smut #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguae

[dincrypt]

Hush

Summary: Din needs sleep, but it’ll take a bit of coaxing.

Content: Just sleepy fluff

He was rolling his shoulders again.

It was the closest thing to a tell Din possessed, and had taken you almost a year with him to decipher. He never yawned. Not that you had seen, anyway. Never complained. But the moment you noticed him straightening his posture, rolling his shoulders back as though it were nothing more than a stretch, you knew Din was exhausted.

All it took was a rut. Normally, he was wise enough to recognize when he needed sleep, and responsible enough to take it. He’d shed his armor, wrap himself around you in the warmth of your shared bunk, and soon be letting out the soft snores that lulled your own eyes into slumber.

Occasionally though, sleep was denied to him for one reason or another. An uncooperative quarry. A necessary but especially long haul through sub light. It didn’t matter what it was, the moment Din was denied his regular dose of rest, suddenly sleep was jettisoned off his priority list, and he was impossible.

Now, his tell was slipping through the cracks, thinly disguised amongst smaller unnecessary movements as he fiddled among the ship, tinkering with circuits that were in perfect working order. You looked up from Grogu’s bed, having finally coaxed him to sleep. Your eye roll went unnoticed by Din.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” You suggested softly.

‘Huh?” He mumbled without looking up from a very important lighting rig, imperative to the function of exactly six green and red buttons.

“I said you need some rest,” you tried again, crossing the hull to touch his pauldron softly. “Come lay down.”

“Oh. That’s alright, I’m not tired.”

You nearly let a laugh slip. You managed to turn it into a sigh, knowing the former would only aggravate him. “Well I’m tired. And you know I sleep better when you’re with me. Won’t you come lay with me, just for a bit?”

That, apparently, was more palatable. His frame drooped and you knew you had him. “Well…I suppose if it’ll help you…”

“It will. Absolutely.”

“Ok then…”

You led him away from the oh-so-vital light circuits and helped him remove his armor. This had always been one of your favorite things about your husband, getting to see his warrior exterior stripped away, leaving you with the soft man you knew and loved underneath. He was fully capable of doing it himself, of course. He had for years. But you loved to be the one to slip it off piece by piece, feeling his muscles relax beneath your touch. He knew this, so he let you.

You left his helmet for last, knowing he preferred to remove it himself. Once the last piece of metal was off his body, you brought him to bed.

Despite his earlier argument, he practically melted into the mattress. Your heart swelled as Din crawled over to you and laid his head on your chest without hesitation. His arm draped over your stomach as one of your hands stroked his back, the other climbing into his hair.

You had marveled at it a million times, and you would no doubt do so a million more, because you would never quite get over the fact that a battle hardened Mandalorian, who everyone saw as a merciless killer, trusted and loved you enough to relax in your arms and go to sleep. You were one of only two beings in the universe who could touch him without consequence.

He began to mumble. Another thing he did when exhaustion got the best of him.

“I love you so much…”

“I know. I love you too. Go to sleep.” You continued to run your fingers through his hair, soft and thick.

“You’re so warm.”

“So are you.”

“And so sweet.”

You chuckled, drawing your hand down to stroke his cheek with two gentle fingers. “Go to sleep my love.”

“M’trying…”

“No you’re not, you’re talking.”

“Mm…”

He slowly fell into silence, his breath deepening. You listened for the onset of snores. Before they came, he spoke again,

“You didn’t kiss me.”

You held a sigh. “What?”

“Kiss me…you didn’t…you always kiss me goodnight…”

You stroked his hair again, fingers digging softly in his scalp. “You’re too tired love, just sleep.”

“Can’t…” his voice was muffled in your chest, “Can’t until you kiss me…”

Your eyes rolled with a gentle smile. “Then come up here and get it I suppose.”

He raised his head, but his eyes stayed closed. He didn’t lean up, apparently lacking the energy. Instead he simply lulled his head to the side and presented his pursed lips. You grinned and craned your neck down to give him a soft peck on the mouth.

Instead of laying back down, he whined. “Another?”

“No,” you breathed through a laugh. “Go to sleep.”

“Mmmmm,” he complained, brow furrowing over still-closed eyes. “Please?”

“Huuuh…Maker…”

You humored him, lingering a little longer in hopes of satisfying him this time. It either worked or he lost the energy to hold his head up, because his face planted back into your chest. Your heart warmed with a mixture of love and mirth as you compared this sleepy eyed boy, begging for kisses, to the blood stained hunter who had shot down a quarry mere hours ago. Sometimes it felt like you were married to two different people.

You continued to work your fingers down his back with smooth, rhythmic strokes, humming softly. Your other hand ran down his hair to the nape of his neck, playing with the soft locks there. Din’s breathing gradually deepened, then slowed. But you knew he wasn’t asleep yet.

“Love you…” he murmured, “So much, darling…love you…love you…”

You tilted your head down to kiss his hair. “Sssh, I love you too. Sleep.”

“So warm…so soft…love you…”

The last syllable faded and you felt his mumbling lips finally come to a stop. Not a moment later, his soft and shallow snores graced your ears. You held him a little tighter, echoing his words of adoration as sleep finally overtook you.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader

[hd-junglebook]

"Hey Sugar"

-said with rizz

Luke Hughes x F!Reader, Trevor Zegras x Reader (platonic)

Masterlist Link

a:n This has still remained my favorite gif of him, he's so perfect.

Warnings: throuple jumpscare, flirting, maybe cursing, suggestive flirting, nausea/vomiting, arguing

Summary: You and your close-knit group of friends, including Luke, are vacationing at the Hughes Lake house. During a dinner out, the sight of a fish dish causes you to become violently ill, leading to questions about what's going on.

Word Count - 4877

Part 2

You pretended not to see Maggy openly mime gagging at the two of you before falling in step with Trevor and Jess. Luke kept easy pace beside you as your mismatched band made their way towards the ramshackle building.

Perhaps it was the alcohol still thrumming warmly in your veins or the effervescent energy of the group, but you couldn't quite bite back the impish grin tugging at your lips. As you walked, you affected an exaggerated sway to your hips - very aware of Luke's heated stare searing into you from your periphery.

You didn't dare look over at him, fearful of what delicious torture might be simmering behind those eyes as dark as the sky around you.

Still, you couldn't resist reaching out to trail your fingertips along the firm musculature of his forearm as you sauntered past - a blatant tease that had his breath catching audibly.

By the time the five of you were settled at one of the plastic picnic tables scattered outside the bustling takeout counter, the dynamic had shifted almost imperceptibly.

What started as a silly lark with your nearest and dearest had devolved into outright cat-and-mouse flirtation between you and Luke.

Your friends, bless their oblivious hearts, were too caught up in their usual shenanigans to notice the escalating tension. Maggy and Jessica took great delight in heckling the poor teenaged cashiers over their "amateur" slushy techniques while Trevor tried valiantly to rein in the madness.

Luke, for his part, was a vision of ease - leaning back on the warped wooden bench with one arm thrown over the back in an effortless display of casual dominance.

You couldn't help but sneak sidelong glances at the hard ridges of his profile, at the way his worn Henley stretched deliciously across the broad span of his chest.

At one point, while Trevor was preoccupied with the drink orders, Luke must have caught you staring. His head swiveled infinitesimally, causing your eyes to meet and hold in a white-hot burst of awareness. One devilish brow inched higher as that knee-weakening half-smirk bloomed across his face.

"See something you like?"

The rough timbre of his voice had you suppressing an involuntary shiver. Rather than give him the satisfaction of a flustered response, you simply hummed noncommittally and dragged your eyes away with great effort.

That only earned you a rich chuckle as Luke inched imperceptibly closer, near enough for you to now feel the delicious burn of his body heat.

This continued teasing back-and-forth persisted until the food and drinks arrived - a riotous din of playful bickering over shared fry baskets and who was going to sample whose garish slushy concoction.

Luke, ever the easygoing rogue, watched the madness unfold with ill-disguised amusement, happily sipping a beer and indulging your friends' antics.

Despite their disruptive presence, however, the chemistry between you and Luke remained an undeniable force - a smoldering current arcing through the balmy sea breezes.

Simple things like the brush of his knuckles on your arm when reaching for a napkin or the searing weight of his hooded stare sent delicious frissons of electricity sparking through your nerve endings.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity lost in that heady tension, the revelry began to wind down. Maggy was the first to push back from the remains of your communal feast with an exaggerated belly pat and groan.

"Well, kids, much as I hate to call it a night...this former party animal needs her beauty rest," she proclaimed to the group at large.

Trevor heaved an overly dramatic sigh of relief. "Thanks be to God! I didn't know how much longer I could have hung on with you heathens."

Luke chuckled at that, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. You felt the brief brush of his shoulder against yours as he shifted slightly.

"No arguments here," he cut in easily, draining the last of his beer. "You guys ready to walk it off?"

The two of you exchanged a meaningful look that didn't go unmissed by Jessica - the astute blonde tracking the heated undercurrents with arched interest.

"Oh hell yes, we are WALKING this off," she piped up airily, rising from the bench and linking arms with Maggy and Trevor. "You crazy kids feel free to take the scenic route. We'll see you back at the house!"

And with that parting wink of insinuation, the three of them turned and struck out in the direction of the parking lot. You opened your mouth, intending to protest or at least offer parting sentiments, but Luke beat you to the punch.

"Don't even think about it, Sugar," he rumbled at your side, utterly unconcerned by your friends' ribald implications. "We both know where this is headed."

You felt your breath catch at the blatant flirtation as you turned to face him fully. Up this close, you could make out the poem of freckles smattered across the bridge of his straight nose, the faint laugh lines crinkled at the corners of those searing brown eyes.

Luke's nostrils flared almost imperceptibly as his gaze roamed over your features with unhurried intensity. You couldn't help mirroring the path, drinking in the sharp masculine beauty of him like a woman dying of thirst.

"Is that so?" you finally managed in a tone considerably breathier than anticipated.

Rather than answer directly, Luke reached out with one large hand to toy with a flyaway strand of your hair - allowing the backs of his knuckles to graze your flushed cheek in a scorching caress. You shivered at the contact, instinctively leaning into the calloused warmth of his palm as it cradled your jaw.

"We've been dancing around this all night," he murmured in that midnight rasp, holding your heated stare unblinkingly. "The flirting, the innuendos...you can't tell me you haven't felt this gravitational pull between us."

You couldn't have looked away even if you wanted - utterly transfixed by the molten promise in Luke's expression, in the exquisite agonies playing out behind those blazing irises. God, he was glorious like this - all simmering intensity and effortless masculinity.

Luke's thumb traced your lower lip in a feather-light caress, voice dropping to a hushed rumble. "I've got to know what those pretty lips taste like. Just this once, just to get it out of my system."

A tremulous whimper slipped unbidden from your throat at the naked yearning in his tone. In that heated breath, there was an ultimatum being issued - one you were powerless to refuse even if you'd wanted.

Taking his ardent silence as assent, Luke slowly began to close the scant distance between your parted lips...

…

1 year later…

The familiar crunch of tires over gravel roused you from your pensive reverie. You blinked rapidly, peering out the Uber's window to find the lake house's rustic facade coming into view. Your breath hitched ever so slightly as that old ache blossomed anew in your chest.

So much had changed over this whirlwind year, yet your relationship with Luke seemed suspended in a permanent holding pattern - all heated flirtation and vague intimations of something more without ever taking that fateful step.

You worried your lower lip, chewing the soft flesh as the driver killed the engine outside the small parking area. Was this just the way Luke operated? A permanent tango of push and pull without any lasting commitment? The prospect caused a leaden knot of anxiety to form in the pit of your stomach.

Drawing a fortifying breath, you gathered your things and slid from the backseat - offering the driver a tight smile of thanks. You were so preoccupied with the tangled mess of emotions, in fact, that you very nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Luke's rich timbre.

"Hey there, pretty girl! Need a hand with your bag?"

You spun toward the unmistakable rumble to find Luke loping down the porch steps, arms outstretched and that knee-weakening grin splitting his whiskered jaw. The warm spring sunlight gilded the artful tumble of his chestnut curls and cast his chiseled features in an almost ethereal glow.

He looked...outrageously beautiful, as always. The realization caused a fresh pang just beneath your breastbone.

Pasting on what you hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head at his oferrit. "I'm good, but thanks for the rescue."

Luke reached you then in a few easy strides, folding you into a fierce embrace without preamble. You melted into the solid warmth of his broad chest despite yourself, muscles going lax as he cradled you against the firm plane of his body.

This was the rub of your torturous relationship - the dizzying highs of Luke's nearness juxtaposed with the maddening ambiguity of whatever it was you actually meant to each other.

For a few blissful moments, you simply held him close and drank him in...the clean, crisp scent of his cotton shirt, the scorching brand of his hands at your lower back, the reassuring thud of his heart against your cheek. Then, all too soon, Luke was pulling away with one final lingering squeeze.

"Jesus, I missed you," he rasped in that midnight timbre, holding you at arm's length for a beat as his searing eyes roved hungrily over your face.

You could only nod mutely, afraid your brittle composure might shatter completely if you attempted words. Luke seemed to sense the undercurrent of tension, however, if his slightly furrowed brow was any indication.

"Hey..." His calloused palm found your jaw, tilting your chin up to meet his molten stare unblinkingly. "You okay? Talk to me."

And just like that, the precariously constructed dam inside you fragmented - emotions bubbling up in a roiling torrent of longing, frustration, and bone-deep weariness.

"I...yeah, of course," you heard yourself rasp, hating how painfully unconvincing you sounded even to your own ears. "It's just been...a really long day, y'know?"

Some imperceptible shift occurred behind Luke's blazing irises at the vague admission. His achingly familiar features seemed to shutter ever so slightly as he regarded you with new intensity, as if truly seeing you for the first time in ages. When he spoke again, his deep timbre was laced with an undercurrent of flinty steel.

"I'm starting to get that feeling, yeah." His grip on your face tightened a fraction, forcing you to hold his potent stare as those beloved lips twisted into a rueful grimace. "Why do I get the feeling we've got some things to hash out this weekend?"

You opened your mouth, intending to deflect or make light of Luke's weighted remark. But his piercing gaze seemed to strip away any half-truths before they could take shape. A small sigh escaped your lips as candor won out.

“We won’t be Luke, I’m just a little tired from having to get up early,” you found yourself replying in a small, hoarse tone that brokered no argument. “Lets get inside.”

Luke simply stared at you, seeming to weigh the ramifications of your simple demand as he carded his fingers over your hair in an unconscious caress.

Finally, after what felt like an agonizing eternity, he exhaled a low rumble and gave a slight nod - the barest dip of his stubbled jaw. Pulling you flush against his solid frame once more, Luke pressed his lips to your crown in a lingering caress.

"You're right, Sugar," he murmured, the timbre of his voice vibrating through you. "They're waiting for you. Come on."

With that, Luke released you from the circle of his arms but kept one large palm anchored at the small of your back as he guided you towards the lake house's entrance. You felt the rigid tension slowly ebb from your shoulders at the familiar weight of his reassuring touch.

No sooner had you crossed the threshold than a raucous din of greetings assailed you from the open living area. Maggy, as always, was the first to barrel into you - her wildly curling hair a ruby cyclone as she enveloped you in a fierce embrace.

"Y/N! You made it!" she crowed into the crown of your head before releasing you with an exaggerated sniff. "And you didn't get mauled by any psychopathic Uber drivers this time. Progress!"

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly at her typical dramatic flair, unable to repress the grin tugging at your lips. "Living on the edge as always, Mags."

Before you could so much as draw another breath, Jessica was sweeping in for her turn - golden tresses shining like haloed silk as she squeezed you tightly.

"We missed you, girl!" The familiar sugary lilt of her voice washed over you like a balm as she rocked you gently. "This lakehouse is way too quiet without your laugh."

You savored the simple intimacy of their warm embraces for a few beats, feeling the last lingering tendrils of fatigue dissipate. God, you'd missed these beautiful disasters more than you could have fathomed.

It was only when you turned to find Trevor hovering awkwardly nearby that the breath caught in your throat. The sweet, teddy bear-ish man seemed to have only grown more handsome in your weeks apart - his warm hazel eyes crinkling endearingly behind those thick-framed glasses as he flashed you a lopsided grin.

"Well don't just stand there gawking, Trevbear!" you teased, the old nickname rolling effortlessly off your tongue as you closed the distance between you. "You know the rules."

Trevor's unassuming features stretched into a radiant smile at that. Without hesitation, he swept you up into one of his patented, all-encompassing bear hugs - the kind where he lifted you clean off your feet and spun you in a dizzying circle amid a chorus of bright laughter.

As your arms wound instinctively around his broad shoulders and the familiar, comforting scent of his woodsy cologne enveloped you, you found yourself momentarily awestruck.

In the span of a few whirlwind revolutions, the simplicity of Trevor's affection seemed to unlock something profound in your heart - an awakening of sorts.

This...this was what you'd been sorely lacking all these months. Not torrid flirtation or vague promises of something more, but the purest expression of unwavering friendship and acceptance.

The utter certainty that no matter how frazzled or lost you became in this haphazard journey called life, your people would always,  always be there to catch you.

By the time Trevor carefully set you back on your feet, his concerned hazel eyes were scanning your features intently.

"You good, kiddo?" he asked, endearingly casual timbre laced with the faintest hint of confusion.

You could only nod mutely, blinking back the telltale prickle of grateful tears as you disentangled yourself from his solid embrace. Allowing your eyes to roam over each of their familiar faces, you felt your heart swell almost painfully.

"I'm good, Trev," you said at last, aiming for a confident smile despite the quaver in your voice. "I'm home."

...

Later that evening, the decision was made to venture into town for dinner at one of the local restaurants. The drive there held its own sort of anticipatory energy - luke's rugged Mustang growling along the sleepy rural roads as your mismatched crew chattered and bantered amidst peals of laughter.

You found yourself wedged into the front seat beside Luke, the occasional brush of his denim-clad thigh against yours sending tiny frissons sparking beneath your skin.

Maggy, Jessica and Trevor bickered good-naturedly in the backseat like rambunctious children, leaving you and Luke to share sidelong glances and suppressed grins.

"So," Luke began at one point, deft fingers toying with the radio dial before settling on a grungy classic rock station. "How long you think it'll be before those three idiots finally make it official?"

You shot him a confused look as The Black Keys thrummed from the speakers. "Make what official?"

Rather than respond outright, Luke simply cocked one brow meaningfully and jerked his chin towards the reflection in the rearview.

You followed his gesture to find Maggy and Jessica sandwiching Trevor between them - a trio of tousled heads bent together in secretive whispers and muffled snickering.

Comprehension blossomed like a slow dawn, your eyes widening almost comically. "Oh? Oh! You mean like...an official throuple situation?"

The answering rumble of Luke's laughter was rich and gravelly, the sound seeming to reverberate straight through to your bones.

"That's exactly what I mean," he confirmed with a salacious wink. "I'm giving it til the end of the week before they just say 'screw it' and start swapping fluids."

You couldn't help but dissolve into unbridled giggles at that delightfully crass remark - shoulders shaking with mirth as you aimed a ineffectual swat at Luke's rock-solid bicep.

"Oh my god, you're disgusting!" you managed to gasp out between peals of laughter. "Also...probably not wrong though."

That merely earned you another of Luke's knee-weakening smirks, the dimple in his stubbled cheek winking roguishly. "That's why you keep me around. For my sparkling wit and insight."

With a derisive snort, you shook your head and turned your attention back towards the darkened scenery whipping past - though you couldn't quite bite back your answering grin. Luke was far from wrong in his assessment, after all.

You'd been witness to the slow-burn flirtation brewing between the three of them for years now. What had started as harmless overfamiliarity had slowly, inexorably blossomed into something richer and infinitely more layered.

The lingering caresses, the heated glances, the borderline inappropriate innuendos...it was only a matter of time before that tension combusted into actualized desire.

Hell, you mused as your gaze drifted to the rearview mirror once more, they were practically daring you to acknowledge the elephant in the room with their shameless canoodling. Perhaps a small part of you even envied their easy intimacy - the utter certainty with which they seemed to fit together, like corresponding pieces of a larger whole.

Your idle reflections were interrupted as Luke suddenly merged onto the main drag, the quaint storefronts of the town's center materialized amid a warm glow of streetlamps.

"There's that new Italian place," he said by way of explanation, gesturing with a tilt of his stubbled jaw.

A raucous cheer erupted from the backseat at that, with Maggy crowing her emphatic approval. "Oh hell yes! I could demolish some fettuccine alfredo right about now."

You shot Luke a bemused grin and shrug, to which he simply laughed and signaled towards the cramped parking lot adjacent to the restaurant.

By the time the Mustang's twin exhaust pipes had quieted to a purr, you were all piling out onto the sidewalk amid a fresh bluster of conversation - Luke's steadying palm finding the small of your back as per usual.

Once you gained entry, the welcoming aromas of garlic and tomato sauce seemed to envelop you like a well-worn blanket. Stepping inside revealed an intimate but boisterous space - a cacophony of lilting Italian pop competing with the clatter of dishes and lively chatter.

Before you could so much as blink, your mismatched crew had been whisked away to a cozy booth tucked in the back corner. You settled onto the worn burgundy leather with a contented sigh, ceding to Luke's gentle insistence as he ushered you towards the innermost seat.

The following two hours seemed to blaze by in a whirlwind of laughter, familiar ribbing, and outrageously embellished stories. Courses of piping hot breadsticks, caesar salad, and copious glasses of reasonably-priced Chianti made their merry way around your table amid riotous pow-wows.

Even Trevor seemed to be in exceptionally high spirits - regaling your crew with the increasingly risque exploits of his latest Dungeons and Dragons characters between enthusiastic pulls from a basket of garlic knots.

"So this tavern wench is laying it on thick, right?" he crowed through a mouthful of doughy bread. "Like she's practically undressing me with her eyes while I'm just trying to order a pint!"

Maggy cackled indelicately beside him, idly tracing patterns along the sloping musculature of his forearm as she savored the tale. "Of course she was, Trev! She could smell your virility from across the room."

"Damn straight!" Jessica chimed in from your other side with a shameless leer. "We've all witnessed the raw, animalistic power of your lovemaking firsthand."

A sudden spray of Chianti fountained from Trevor's lips as he dissolved into a spluttering cough - eyes bulging comically behind his smudged lenses. You couldn't help but join in the chorus of bright laughter at that, instinctively reaching over to pat his broad back through the fit.

"You three are utterly incorrigible tonight," he managed once he'd recovered, attempting in vain to dab at the red wine stains blooming across the front of his pale blue button-up.

"Hey, we're just being supportive girlfriends!" Maggy countered with an impish flutter of her lashes.

There it was again - that playful acknowledgment that seemed to take on deeper intimations the more the wine flowed freely. You found your eyes instinctively tracking towards Luke, curious to gauge his response to the escalating flirtation.

To your mild surprise, the roguish sparkle in his eyes and the uptick of that damnable half-grin spoke volumes. He clearly took no issue with their blatant suggestions, instead leaning back with his powerful forearms splayed casually to either side.

As if feeling the weight of your speculative stare, Luke cocked one brow meaningfully before lifting his wine glass in a subtle toast of acknowledgment.

The blatant understanding in that singular gesture caused a small thrill to ricochet through your nerve endings. Maybe he wasn't so far off in his earlier prediction after all...

...

Any further musings were interrupted as your waiter finally reappeared with your entrees balanced precariously on a burdened tray.

You watched with detached amusement as he carefully maneuvered the steaming dishes onto the table - a mouthwatering array of hearty pastas and artfully arranged proteins.

Luke's meal - the rigatoni alla vodka - landed first with a dull clatter directly in front of him. You had to actively resist the urge to lean over and inhale the rich, creamy aroma wafting from his plate as he murmured his thanks.

Trevor's gargantuan meatball parmesan followed close behind, causing the table to groan beneath its considerable heft. Then came Jessica's margherita pizza...

Finally, with tremendous care, the waiter settled Maggy's order immediately across from you. You watched with detached interest as he arranged the dish, unaware of the delicate porcelain plate's contents until the very last moment.

Then, like a swift upending of your stomach, realization struck in one sickeningly potent wave - immediately wiping the contented smile from your lips.

There, nestled in a delicate swirl of cauliflower puree and roasted fennel, was a glistening fillet of some indeterminate white fish - the pearlescent flesh gaping in a grotesque mimicry of a gasping maw.

You must have paled several shades because Luke immediately tensed beside you - his scorching palm finding your knee beneath the table in a steadying grip.

"Y/N? You good?" he murmured beneath the din of Maggy's enthusiastic compliments towards the waiter.

But you couldn't bring yourself to respond, every survival instinct flatlining beneath the sudden onslaught of visceral nausea roiling in your gut. Your jaw clenched spasmodically as you struggled to contain the rising tide of revulsion, to maintain some semblance of composure.

When that failed, you had no other recourse but to abruptly shove away from the table and make a beeline for the bathroom - Luke's urgent calls and the concerned eyes of your companions quickly receding in your peripheral vision.

…

The bolt slammed home seconds before you crumpled onto the mercifully cool tile, hands braced against the sides of the stall as your stomach clenched painfully. A strangled groan tore from your throat just before the first wave of nausea broke.

"Occupied!" you managed to grumble out between convulsive retches, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the slick porcelain.

Each spasm seemed to tear through your abdomen with white-hot lances of agony until, finally, you were left shuddering and empty - forehead beaded with a clammy sheen of sweat. You heaved in ragged gulps of air, throat feeling savagely raw and abused.

Only then, in the fragile lull, did the confusion begin to set in.

What the hell was that? You'd felt absolutely fine mere moments ago - happily indulging in the warm cocoon of friendship and frivolity. So where had this sudden, debilitating bout of nausea sprung from?

You racked your muddled brain, trying in vain to isolate any potential causes as another unpleasant roll of queasiness settled in your roiling gut. Had it been something you'd eaten recently? No, you realized with a jolt, you hadn't consumed anything substantial since well before your flight that morning.

Maybe it was the start of a stomach bug then? That seemed the most plausible explanation, despite the utter randomness of it all. Except...you reasoned shakily, wouldn't there have been some sort of discernible build-up to indicate you were getting sick?

Before you could ponder it further, another series of convulsions doubled you over - this time accompanied by the unmistakable sound of the bathroom door creaking open. You stiffened, straining to hear over the tortured gurgles issuing from your abused stomach.

"Y/N?" It was Jessica's sugary lilt, muffled but recognizable. "Babe, are you okay in there?"

You opened your mouth with every intention of reassuring her, or at the very least calling out that you were still alive. But the words shriveled into an anguished moan as another piercing cramp lanced through your tender abdomen. There was a pregnant pause on the other side of the stall door, followed by your friend's increasingly worried tones.

"Y/N? I'm coming in..."

The latch rattled precariously as Jessica shouldered her way inside, wisps of honeyed hair filtering through the crack first. You tried weakly to protest - to summon some semblance of dignity or determination to be left in peace.

But then her stunning features swam into view, and the flimsy pretense shattered beneath the naked concern etched into those delicate features.

"Oh sweetie..." Jessica breathed, all traces of her usual saucy bravado evaporating as she dropped into an urgent crouch beside you.

One slender hand immediately found the damp nape of your neck, fingers soothing over your flushed skin as her brow furrowed. You could only manage a pitiful whine in response, too consumed by the roiling anguish to formulate actual words.

"You're clammy as hell," she murmured, mostly to herself as her free hand roamed over your forehead and cheeks. "What's going on? Did you eat something that messed with your stomach?"

You shook your head weakly, too mortified to fully engage the line of questioning. What could you possibly say? That the mere sight of Maggy's half-eaten fish fillet had sent you into a full-body revolt? Just the memory of those dead, glassy eyes staring back at you had your gorge rising anew...

Unable to bite it back this time, you lurched forward with a guttural retch - every muscle straining as another vicious bout assailed you. Dimly, you registered Jessica's comforting murmurs and the soothing strokes along your trembling shoulders. But even her tender consolations couldn't prevent the piercing embarrassment from seeping into your churning gut.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the punishing waves subsided into a queasy lull. You sagged back against the damp tiles, boneless and utterly spent as you sucked in ragged gasps. Jessica immediately moved to cradle you against her side, slender fingers sifting through your damp tresses.

"Better?" she asked once your breathing had steadied somewhat, brow still furrowed.

You could only manage a feeble nod, still stunned by the ferocity of the episode. Jessica seemed to sense your mortification because she leaned in to press a consoling kiss to your clammy temple.

"Don't even trip, babe," she soothed in that sweet, maternal tone. "We've all been there. The last time I got hit with food poisoning was no damn joke."

The tender gesture, coupled with her easy reassurances, seemed to thaw some of the icy tendrils of shame entangling your gut. You found the residual strength to curl gratefully into her slender form, savoring the simple comfort of her embrace.

How long the two of you remained like that - tangled on the gritty bathroom floor in a silent cocoon of commiseration - was anyone's guess. But eventually, the faint murmurings from the other side of the door reminded you that the rest of the world still existed beyond your misery.

"You think you can stand?" Jessica's query was gentle, implied concern lacing her sugary soprano.

With extreme effort, you managed a slight incline of your head. Jessica didn't seem convinced, however, because she shifted to disengage herself before carefully maneuvering to her feet.

"Come on, sweetie," she urged, stout hands finding your elbows and tugging insistently. "Let's at least get you off this nasty ass floor and cleaned up a bit."

Too wrung out to protest further, you allowed Jessica to coax you upright - every muscle screaming in exertion. She looped a steadying arm around your waist as you swayed perilously. Then, with exaggerated care, she began leading you towards the sinks.

…

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut #fluff #angst #masterlist #x reader #lh43 #nj devils #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes imagine #jh86 #luke hughes x oc #hughes brothers

[rosescarlette]

- Gentlemen. -

Zhongli is the type of person who's often described as a gentleman. Trust me this guy has a lot of fame but even he doesn't know how. He just uses his knowledge and skills and boom! He's famous.

Zhongli is the type of person to absolutely spoil you. He just wants you to be happy. Of course grandpa sometimes goes overboard. You see something? You complement it? Congrats! It's yours now.

Zhongli is also the type to be very reserved during the first time of the relationship. Not like the people who just ask him something completely about, "Hey have you-" where he just goes.. "Sorry I have a girlfriend." No. He isn't. He would completely let the person finish their question and then answer them appropriately. If some one were to indeed ask him out. He'd politely decline and just return to his work what he was doing before.

Zhongli also would be quite strict with himself. But hey.. can you really blame him?.. he has no experience during the first moments. But however do expect him to be completely perfect at the dinning matters and etc. He has learned these habits himself when he used to disguise himself as a human to mingle among his people.

He also has immense strength. Trust me no human could ever compare to his strength because he's the archon who dominates over the element geo. So he obviously has no trouble carrying your bags even yourself. No matter how heavy you are.. you're just a feather to him. There would always be arguments like: "Zhongli let me carry my bags myself!!" "Pardon but I will carry these." Yep. Expect him to be formal even when arguing. You raised yourself as an independent woman and he's the gentleman. So.. yep arguments on who's gonna pay for the dinner. Of course he ends up winning. He pays the bill regarding the price. Heck does he even look at it? No. Because his wallet (childe) will always pay for it regardless of the price.

If zhongli sees you overworking yourself to the point where you sleep on the desk itself. He will not hesitate at all to pick you up and place you in bed and tuck you in. He has no problems doing that.

You and zhongli would RARELY get into arguments. Trust me, the only times you'd argue is who is going to pay the bills and all. He always wins somehow.

He is also the type to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday or happy anniversary to you. Because he wakes up quite early and you? Nah you're gonna sleep almost to the point where people would mistakenly arrange a funeral for you thinking you died... /j . This guy has photographic memory so.. he captured every emotion on your face with immense detail. He never gets bored looking at those eyes.

He is also the type of person who'd comfort you very well. If your day is bad you can always go chat to him. He will always and ALWAYS try to make you smile. Your smile is something he would pay anything to see.

You overthink? He's the one to comfort you. You have social anxiety? He's the one to do the talking. You're short to reach? He helps you with it. Any problem you bring up he brings up the solution.

Zhongli wants everything to be perfect. My guy's a rich person. (But somehow broke) He wants everything to be absolutely perfect and no detail should be missed. So expect your birthdays and special occasions and all to be amazingly perfect. Including his proposal is something that has so many hidden meanings that many people have forgotten. Yet it's perfect. In a way where everything is according to you. Which represents you and him.

In the end.. your relationship was perfect with him. It was only date to marry. Trust me. He will only choose you.

Zhongli knows eventually one day he will outlive you. He always had. So he tries his best to always stay near you and capture every emotion of yours. And eventually when you aren't there anymore.. he will forever be lonely. He wouldn't want another person. He himself had set a contract to himself. It's either you or no one. And he follows it. Until it's the end of him.

Your grave is something that can't be found easily. I mean.. he wouldn't let it be known so easily to people. He would try to hide it as much as possible. The area would be secluded. And your grave will the one that has your favorite flowers. However to him. He visits to be with you. Only to be reminded of the fact.. you're gone too.

Despite living so long. He'd always learn talents so who knows if he learns art. Not for anything but other than painting you so you wouldn't be forgotten in his memory so easily. Even with his photographic memory he fears that he would forget. The tea cups on the table will always be the pair where one is empty and the other has cold tea. A remainder again you're gone. He heavily uses muscle memory so it's hard for him to get accustomed easily.

Despite the bittersweet ending. He always loved and always will continue to love you. And if it's his end. He would want to be next to you. And after always hold you in his arms. No matter where he would always find you. Even without his memory. His soul knows you and will continue to find you. So expect many lives of yours to be with him.

In the end he has no regrets. He always wanted to be with you. So it's always you no matter what.

#zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin characters x you #rosescarlette #rosescarlette's diary #zhongli #zhongli angst #genshin morax #rex lapis #rex lapis x you

[jksprincess10]

hi! ur writing is so good ily 😻

um so imagine inexperienced!din who comes across an “adult video” where the guy is eating the girl out and din just absolutely fixates on it, he just cannot get the thought of doing the same thing to reader and once he finally does..? he’s insatiable, he just refuses to stop, give you a break or anything.. he can’t help it, is whining and groaning into her and grinding against the bed.. (maybe cums in his pants idk 🤭)

🏃🏾‍♀️

Hi ! Thank you for your request. Hope this is what you had in mind!

Just a little taste. CW: desperate!din, inexperienced!din, brothel, mention of sex work, mando'a language, mention of porn, oral sex (f), fingering, din cums in his pants.

The bounty was a man who would frequent these sinful parts of Cocruscant and you had to play the part. Mando, a client and you… a worker. Your pretty face would make getting information much easier. Mando, on the other hand… would stick out like a sore thumb with his shiny beskar armor.

So, you wore the uniform. It would probably qualify as a dress, although there wasn’t nearly enough fabric to be one. An almost transparent veil covered your breasts, in two crossed lines that went down your back and hid in the “skirt”, also transparent, making the color of your underwear known by everyone.

From that moment on, Din didn’t look at you. Maybe he thought you were ugly? You huffed in frustration and went to interrogate the clients, playing the flirty and innocent girl.

**

If Din could have looked for the bounty anywhere else, he would’ve. He was thankful for the heavy helmet covering his face, disguising the permanent blush on his cheeks. He sat at the bar, an immobile statue to the rest of the costumers. The bartender asked if he needed anything, he shook his head. For now, he only wanted to look around and keep an attentive ear on what people said.

You, on the other hand… You made it hard for him to concentrate. He saw you going around like a butterfly, like you were in your element. He felt ashamed of the jealousy tying his stomach and… another sentiment. Unfamiliar.

Strong, unknown desire.

He tried to concentrate on anything other than your goddess-like body. But this whole place… reeked of sex and sin. The music in some alien language was sensual and the projected holovids were… literal porn.

He felt the familiar tightness in his pants that happened every time you got too close to him, and he cursed under his breath. A particular holovid held his attention for longer. It depicted a humanoid female getting eaten out by a male. The latter was passionate about it, and he could see the pleasure on her face.

Dank farrik, he wanted to do the same thing to you. Bury his head between your thighs and live there for a little while. He asked for an alcoholic beverage for courage, that he drank in a hidden corner by barely lifting his helmet. He then passed next to you to attract your attention and pointed to one of the closed rooms. You gave him a puzzled look but assumed that he had found some information.

**

When you entered the room and locked the door behind you, you found Mando sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked so out of place here, way too big for that little space.

“Did you find anything?”

There was a slight tilt of his helmet as he took in your beautiful form.

“No.” The modulated voice responded.

You crossed your arms in frustration.

“Then, why are we here? This man was about to give me everything.”

“It’s… hard to concentrate here, cyar’ika.”

The affectionate name made your cheeks heat up.

“Well, not my fault if you’re a pervert. Let me do my job.” You turned around to open the door, but his broad figure suddenly shadowed yours. A gloved hand stopped yours and he turned you around, crowding you against the door. You looked up at him, confused by his change in demeanor.

“I saw something that I want to do to you. Please.”

You would lie to yourself if you said that you were indifferent to him. Even though you had no idea what he looked like, you had thought about him in that way. And he looked so desperate and adorable right now, how could you say no?

“Okay.” You responded breathlessly.

His hips pressed against yours, making you feel his hard erection.

“Do you trust me, cyar’ika?” He asked as his gloved hand cupped your face.

“Yes. With my life.”

And it was the truth – he had saved you on multiple occasions. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to do something, anything. He took off his gloves and you felt his warm hands undoing the top of your dress. He tied a piece of it around your eyes, bunching the fabric together so it was less see-through. You opened your eyes to see that everything was veiled, you could barely see. Din slid the rest of your dress down. Then, he guided you delicately to the clean bed, where you laid down for him, thighs parted. He could see how damp you were through your panties, where a wet stain had formed.

“You’re so pretty.” He breathed in a not-modulated voice, suddenly. It was very similar, but much warmer.

Oh.

The helmet was off.

You needily cupped his face between your hands, feeling the slight burn of facial hair there, and you brought him closer.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked almost shyly.

As a response, his lips latched onto yours. It was surprisingly soft, the way he kissed you. But still, it made you feel even needier. You bit slightly on his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth for you, letting you slide in your tongue. Din’s moans died in your mouth.

All of a sudden, his lips had left yours, and you felt him delicately tracing down your body. Your back arched a little, inviting him even closer.

His lips found the line of your hip, the start of the fabric covering your core.

“Please.” You begged softly.

And he was eager to indulge you. He slipped your panties down and you kicked them off. His lips slid down your pubic bone.

“Have you ever done that before?” You asked. It wasn’t judgmental. You just wanted to help.

“No.” He responded, almost shamefully.

“Don’t overthink it.”

He nodded and licked a tentative stripe on your slit. You whimpered at the contact, hands grabbing his head, where you found curly hair. Beginning to feel a little more confident, he used the same motion to lick your slit a few times. Then, he used two fingers to open your lips and find your most sensitive spot.

He used the tip of his tongue to touch your clit, just to see your reaction.

“Fuck… Din, lick me there, yes.”

Encouraged by your words, Din circled his tongue around it at a steady rhythm. Your fingers tugged on his curls as you moaned in appreciation.

“Don’t stop… You’re gonna make me cum…” You warned.

And he didn’t. He redoubled his efforts, licking at a face pace, until your legs started to shake from your orgasm. He didn’t stop even then, licking and sucking through your orgasm, while you were very sensitive.

“Oh, stars… Y-You can stop…”

But visibly, he intended to keep going. He sucked softly, while one of his fingers found your entrance. You were so sensitive; you came almost instantly when he curled up his finger. Encouraged by your moans, he devoured you, even though you were begging him to stop, overstimulated. He ate you like he hadn’t had food in days, producing lewd wet sounds with his mouth. He even added another finger, curling them at the same rhythm as the motions of his tongue. The oversensitivity of it all almost hurt, but pleasure was even more overwhelming.

You couldn’t see, but you felt him moving against the mattress, rutting into it like he was imagining himself fucking you, but instead, he fucked you with his fingers and his tongue.

“Din… Wish I could see you…” You whimpered softly.

Mando groaned against your cunt, hips thrusting faster into the mattress. He pulled another orgasm out of you before you held him with your thighs to stop him. He kept fucking into the mattress until he came, staining the inside of his suit.

Out of breath, Din fell heavily beside you and brought you closer. You lifted your chin to find his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. When you pulled away, you whispered:

“As much as I would like to stay here forever, we have work to do if we want to be paid…”

He groaned in frustration.

“You’re right, mesh’la. Let me clean up and I’ll meet you there…”

#writing requests #din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #mandalorian #mandalorian smut #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x yn #mandalorian x y/n #din djarin x yn #din djarin x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #din djarin x reader

[draculasfavoritewife]

Touch Me Please

Summary: Aftereffects can be painful to work through by yourself, and a little help from your partner can be a godsend.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Unwanted touch from a gross man, initial lack of communication, suggestions of a panic attack. Extended sequence of getting handsy in the shower. Possessive! Din.

I will never tire of writing shower scenes ❤️‍🔥. I love the thought of Mando's partner sometimes going undercover to flush out particularly oily bounties. And I really don't know what came over me for this one's ending...I have to blame my senselessness on the utter chokehold this man has on me hehe.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

"I had it handled."

Din gives no response to your annoyed statement, simply lowers himself on one knee to yank his vibroblade from deep in the throat of the male Twi'lek on the floor, whose body has just barely ceased twitching.

You angrily stalk towards him, wrenching your chain along in one hand, your own knife still humming loudly in the other. "Don't you tune me out, Mando," you warn, using his professional alias as much out of displeasure as necessity. "I. Had it. Handled. But no, you just HAD to have things done your way. And now he's dead and we have to make a run for it."

"Warm or cold, makes no difference," he says gruffly, still not looking at you. He's a little too focused on the prone body of the asset, and you briefly wonder what's bothering him.

He doesn't usually act so impulsively when you're undercover.

With an exasperated snort, you shake your head and turn your attention to your modified slave collar, pressing the hidden release so it falls away, leaving you unchained once more. "This was a waste."

"We got what we came for." He rises and hefts the dead man across his wide shoulders with breathtaking ease, indicating the doorway with a sharp jerk of his head. "Let's get out of here before too many of his lackeys come looking for him."

You sheathe your knife and pull his pulse rifle from its holster on his back. He doesn't object.

He can tell you might need to disintegrate a few lowlifes before it's safe to hold a conversation with you again.

Your escape goes smoothly, more so than the actual mission, ironically, and soon the two of you are standing in the ship's hold, watching the carbonite seal over your latest asset. Din is acutely aware of how close you are to him, all his senses on high alert as his religiously conditioned mind struggles to process how you can just STAND THERE so exposed. Your slave dancer disguise is perfect, as far as it can be called a disguise.

As much as the pair of you shares under cover of darkness, he's never really seen so much of your skin before, bared between little more than straps of leather and the drape of filmy netting. He has to remind himself repeatedly that you consider yourself dar'manda.

He wonders too, if you'd done jobs like this before your partnership. Not once did he see anything in your stride that betrayed your discomfort. Images flash through his head unbidden, of the way you moved before your new "master", of how you remained still and silent even as that crime lord TOUCHED you....

Din Djarin is a controlled man. So his admittedly violent and perhaps unnecessary reaction to seeing that filth's hands straying -- too close to areas of you that belong only to him -- has him slightly shaken, though he'd never say so.

Does he regret having buried his blade in that scum's neck for his sins, for trying to take what's his?

No.

He doesn't.

He finally emerges from his brooding at the sound of your voice beside him. "I'm not angry at you, Din." Everything from this mission has finally caught up with you, drowning the adrenaline in exhaustion. "I just wish you trusted me more. I know I don't look dangerous like this --" you gesture down your mostly unclad form, not seeing the Mandalorian's gaze subtly follow, "-- but I can take care of myself. I had to, for a long time. I was in control, not him."

"I know." His voice comes out cold; he's struggling to keep himself from unloading all his confusion and dismay on you at once. "I do trust you, Cyar'ika. I just...."

You wait, but it's like waiting for a stone wall to open up for you.

Nothing gives.

Normally you would gently cajole that stone wall into eventually breaking down, but you just don't have the capacity to do so at the moment.

"I'll be in the 'fresher if you need me," you sigh, turning away. "I need a shower and a change of clothes."

He says nothing, and you don't invite him along.

For the first time in a while, the silence that falls between you two is taut, barely stretched over spiking emotions that are too rampant to reach the air.

The feeling of hot water pounding into your skin clears your head as it always does, letting your patience recharge and your frustrations bleed away down the drain. Sense slowly begins to reclaim your thoughts, and you let your mind drift as you wash away the scent of smoke and spice, your fingertips trailing absently across your body as new questions rise of their own accord.

You can't understand why you feel disappointed.

The job went well. It doesn't matter in the wider scheme of things whether you were the one to acquire the asset or Din, not really. You both get paid the same.

Were you simply hoping for more of a reaction to your dancer outfit from your laconic partner?

Your hand slips in the water, brushes over your ribcage. It's one of your favorite places to find Din's hands lingering when the two of you are half-awake in bed, your skin sensitive enough there that the calluses on his fingertips still raise shivers from you every time.

But to your disgust, this time it isn't his hand you feel on your body, but the memory of a much different hand, one with overlong nails searching for something that isn't meant for it. A hand that's been dead for over an hour now, but the sensation is still there, and not only there, but trailing down your neck, slithering around your waist, loitering a moment too long atop your thigh, and you can't keep back the sound of horror that forces its way up your throat.

You feel disgusting and helpless with the mere idea of those hands crawling your body.

And all you know is you need it gone now.

Desperately.

So as the sensations continue to heighten unpleasantly, you do the only thing you can think of.

"...Din?"

His footsteps are swift, and he's in the 'fresher before you even need to call for him a second time. You can see his hulking dark form outlined through the frosted door panel.

"What's wrong?" He sounds concerned.

"I...." You pause and take a deep breath. "I need you, Din. Please."

He doesn't protest, doesn't question you. The lights go out and you hear the clack of the beskar as he strips and sets it aside. Scant moments later, he's under the water with you, solid and familiar and radiating heat, and you're suddenly so needy for his touch it's all you can do to keep from throwing yourself at him.

"What do you want from me?" he breathes, water dripping from his hair down to your face.

"You." Most times you're a playful flirt, but this time you have no room left for games. You just want him to remind you who you really belong to. There will be time for other things later. "I want to feel your hands on me, Din. I need to get the feeling of that miserable scum off of me. Touch me, please."

He pulls you into him, a tad more roughly than usual. "Where, Cyar'ika?"

You melt into the welcome haven of his chest, your hands immediately finding their way to some of the more distinctive scars that ridge his skin. "Anywhere you want, my Love."

He's ravenous in his compliance, all but devouring you with his touch, lips joining his hands as he focuses first on your throat and shoulders.

It's as if he's as desperate for the contact as you are, and suddenly his strange actions become clear to you, as his hands flawlessly overrun all of the places where the other man had been.

He took note of every single unwelcome caress, each one still burning in his mind's eye, each movement of foreign hands a wrong against you and him that cries out to be righted.

And so he follows that path diligently, his heated touch obliterating any claim that vermin tried to make on his sacred space, reconquering everything you offer him like the Mandalorians of old.

You're surrounded by him, blind in the dark and the steadily falling water, held flush against his body, your senses reduced to purely touch and hearing as he growls broken phrases in Mando'a into your skin.

"I've never seen you so territorial," you huff out in a laugh.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs against your lips, as his pause in their journey across the landscape of you.

"Why?" you ask the well-loved chamber of his mouth.

"For my actions. I let my jealousy rule me in the moment and I offended you." He lifts you in his arms, your back resting against the 'fresher wall and your arms wrapping around his neck. You settle into the new position with a happy hum, letting your hips kiss his and feeling his hands slide down the backs of your thighs in reply.

"But seeing that son of a Hutt with his hands all over you like that --" his forehead comes to rest against yours. "That did something to me I can't explain."

One of your hands finds its way into his hair as the other gently scratches across his muscular back, making him sigh.

"Thank you, Din."

You can FEEL the curious eyebrow raise.

"For caring so much. For coming to my rescue when I need you -- every time. Next time," you add, mischief creeping back into your tone, "we can reverse the roles, if you'd rather. I can think of a lot of people who'd pay an exorbitant amount for a dancing Mandalorian. Think of that -- you, dressed in that get-up, but with the helmet still on, of course -- that would intrigue any crime lord, all right."

"You sound like you've imagined that more times than you should have," he chides teasingly.

Your only response is a soft laugh, though you do press yourself more insistently against him and give his hair a suggestive tug.

"Hmm. Someone's still not satisfied." He lets you slide from his embrace back to the floor, and you whine with disappointment, though to your relief all echoes of unwanted hands have dissipated.

Now you're just left hungry for more of HIM.

"Hush, Mesh'la, I'm not refusing you." The extra grit in his lowered voice suggests he wants more as well. His thumb brushes across your lips, rough and sensual. "I just think it would be more...pleasant to finish this in my quarters, don't you? Cold water and romance don't always go so well together if the heat runs out."

You nip at his thumb and smirk. "Thinking as always, Djarin."

"About you, at any rate." He falls quiet abruptly as he pulls away, as if abashed that such a flippant admission actually left his lips.

You laugh and duck back under the water. "Go. Get your hair dry and whatever else you need so I don't see your face. I'll get out when I hear you leave."

He starts to open the door, then suddenly thinks twice and is upon you once again, his fingers digging into the softness of your hips and his lips grazing your collarbone.

"You're beautiful," he grates out in a rush. "And I can't stop thinking about you in that costume. I just thought you should know that."

You sigh into his firm hold, a sinful idea taking delightful shape in your mind.

"How about I dance for you then, Din Djarin? Would you like to see that, ner'alor?"

The breath leaves his lungs all at once in a sharp exhale. "Yes, Mesh'la. Dance for me."

When he finally goes, you're left to finish your shower with an overwhelming ache for him and some very tempting plans turning over in your head.

Dar'manda = Not Mandalorian; separated from one's heritage

Ner'alor = My leader/boss

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #female reader #romance #steamy #comfort #suggestive #hes my husband #possessive #bounty hunter #shower scene #I love when he gets flustered he's so cute #obsessed with him

[phoenixkaptain]

Gotta be honest, the idea that Luke wouldn’t send a child alone in an X-wing with only a droid for company is funny to me.

Like, we’re talking about the same Luke, right? The one who spent years bulls-eyeing womp rats and took the experience from that to then blow up the Death Star? The one who was like “This is a trap… I’m gonna walk right into it.” The one who was like “I will rescue my dear friend by waltzing in without a disguise and being as obnoxious as possible.” “How do we get out of this situation? How about we convince these small bear creatures that our droid is a god, that will probably work.” “I know Darth Vader is a murderer who murdered my Ben and is trying to murder me and all, but he is also my dad and therefore I love him.”

Luke would send a child in an X-wing without even fucking thinking about it! Do you REALLY think LUKE SKYWALKER is a reasonable human being?? Are you honestly trying to tell me that this man who has been driving the same fucking ship for like ten years would understand how dangerous it is to put an unsupervised child in a vehicle??? Do you really honestly truly think that Luke knows how to care for children????

You see, a lot of people like to portray Luke as perfect. And this is the same issue I have with people who portray Obi-Wan as perfect, or Yoda, or Mace, or literally any character in all of Star Wars because the whole point is that the are flawed human beings!

But it’s ESPECIALLY egregrious with Luke because I don’t know where any of you got this idea that Luke is a sweet summer child??? This man has a death count of over one million. This man had Seen Some Shit that it is literally impossible not to be affected by. Why do so many people assume that Luke at the end of the Trilogy is the same as Luke at the beginning of the Trilogy? He’s changed! He’s a different person! That’s what makes the Original Trilogy such a good trilogy!! It’s basic storytelling!!! A character canNOT be at the same place mentally as when they began the story, or else it’s not a good story!

But also, I hate the way this colours shipping fics with Luke. Like, listen. There is no ship where Luke should be the straightman of the relationship. Luke Skywalker just is not normal. He’s weird, he’s deranged, he’s so strange; he cannot be a straightman, it just doesn’t work. It’s so completely out of character it isn’t even funny.

The joy of shipping Luke is that every single thing that you can ship Luke with will come out the other sode looking rational.

Han Solo is a smuggler who hangs out with a Wookiee and who does extremely dangerous, stupid shit, but next to Luke?? Rational. Normal. Someone who uses their brain, Luke, take notes-

Din Djarin is a bounty hunter who decided that he would rather destroy an entire group of highly dangerous men than give up the cute kid he just found. But compared to Luke? At least he has equipment on him!

Mara Jade literally was mind-controlled by the Emperor and was Darth Vader’s coworker and was also a Jedi (something that no rational person would be honestly) and even she comes across as normal compared to Luke Skywalker.

I know this is rambly and disjointed and I know people disagree with me, but like??? Yes, I think Luke is great with kids. Yes, I think Luke is a good teacher. Yes, I think Luke is the type of person to wave goodbye as an infant flies off in his warship. I think Luke is the type of person who would throw a child into the air way too high and then catch them. Where did the idea that he’s the responsible parent come from? Luke is teaching infants how to use laser swords, do you REALLY THINK that’s what a responsible parent would do????

#luke skywalker #star wars #star wars original trilogy #the mandalorian #dinluke #hanluke #maraluke #grogu #din djarin #han solo #mara jade #i keep seeing people treat luke like he is a preschool teacher #and i also view him as a preschool teacher #but not the preschool teacher who is seventy eight and croons about how good her darlings are doing #no luke is the preschool teacher who eats sticks with his students #he is absolutely unhinged and this is just a canon fact #luke skywalker would not see anything wrong with a baby flying an x wing #it just isn’t in character for him to think that’s weird #he was going to give the baby a laser sword #do you think he would draw the line at a gun ship #the inane ramblings of a madman #ranting #long post

[undercoverpena]

APRIL SHOWERS MASTERLIST

here is the masterlist for the april showers challenge. currently this is still open, so please feel free to enter until the 30th APRIL!

the fishing trip by @bluestar22x [frankie m x reader]

starstruck heights drabble: carpinteria by @yxtkiwiyxt [joel x reader]

monsoon by @sawymredfox [din x reader]

caught in the rain by @burntheedges [marcus p x reader]

marcus rainy moodboard by @secretelephanttattoo

just breathe by @mermaidgirl30 [joel x reader]

heavy rain by @lunitawrites [joel x reader]

coup de foudre by @ladamedusoif [lucien x reader]

weathered in by @rhoorl [frankie x reader]

don’t let yourself go by @survivingandenduring [joel]

the stranger by @punkshort [dave x reader]

fools in the rain (nebble files story) by @inept-the-magnificent [tim x jane nebbles]

911 by @milla-frenchy [joel x reader]

intermezzo by @maggiemayhemnj [joel/jersey + ellie]

midnight rainstorms by @thundermartini

when it rains by @bitchesuntitled

happenstance by @sawymredfox [joel x reader]

when the rain washes you clean, you’ll know by @thelightsandtheroses [javi p x reader]

with you I fall down by @joelsgreenflannel [javi p x reader]

like real people do by @mrsmando [joel m x reader]

right person wrong time by @mountainsandmayhem [joel x reader]

silver by @morallyinept [ezra x reader]

island rain by @javipispunk [frankie x reader]

july by @psychedelic-ink [joel x reader x tess]

sugar drop by @604to647 [pero x reader]

rain confessions by @toomanystoriessolittletime [joel x reader]

what he wants to be… by @theweedisasterxoxo [joel x reader]

angel in disguise by @nerdieforpedro [javi p x reader]

thunderstruck by @thetriumphantpanda [marcus p x reader]

come with me and escape by @jomiddlemarch [joel x ofc!grace]

into you by @toomanystoriessolittletime [dieter x reader]

a rainy escape by @malimomo [javi p x reader]

good girl by @aurorawritestoescape [joel x reader]

when it rains by @couldsewyouastitchandsavenine [javi p x reader]

drowning in you by @flightlessangelwings [frankie x reader]

rainy day brew by @loonmartell [joel x reader]

the rhythm of the rain by @viceofdionysus [jack x reader]

raining in baltimore by @schnarfer [marcus p x reader]

#jo: april showers challenge #UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #<- I will update as we go but so people can follow or read ✨ here you go

[feralsunspotandtincan]

Din: Cyar'ika, I hate this, I don't want you going alone.

Luke: Love, it'll be fine, I've been through way worse-

Din: That doesn't help as much as you think it does.

Luke: -AND you'd have to be undercover, which means no armour. I know how uncomfortable that makes you.

Din: That's fine, really. I'll, uh...wear a fake mustache. You know, for disguise. Then it won't really be my face, and I'll feel fine.

Luke:

Luke: Din. Sweetie. Love of my life. You already have a mustache.

Din: Yeah.

Din: But it'd be. You know. Different. A different mustache.

Luke:

Din:

Luke:

Din: ...if you say no I'm just going to stow away on your ship.

Luke: I fly an x-wing? You couldn't possibly fit.

Din: You're welcome to test that assumption at your earliest convenience.

#din worries and also sometimes his ligic doesnt logic #luke loves him so much #dinluke #luke skywalker #din djarin

[pridoo]

Time for @dinlukeweek prompt for Halloween Special!! This is Costumes and Disguises, and since I was inspired by @bleur-oi art here (I love these clothes too btw, like damn. Mogu has amazing fashion sense!) I wanted to draw Din with a jedi disguise. Whatever it is that they need it for.

Extra:

#dinluke #dinluke week 2022 #dinluke halloween special 2022 #skydalorian #clan of three #sw art #my art #I'm tempted to draw Luke with a mandalorian armor now…but my wrist will fall off if I do it this week #so maybe later :> #mm yeah I didn't have darksaber ref at hand #I was. busy making them look at each other Like That #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x din djarin #din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars

[justagalwhowrites]

Growing - A Beskar Doll Drabble

Aidla makes her case to become a bounty hunter like her parents. A Beskar Doll drabble.

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Female Reader from Beskar Doll

CW: Pregnancy. No use of Y/N. Drabble is SFW but Source fic is 18+ only, minors DNI.

Length: 700

A/N: The first chapter of Beskar Doll went live one year ago today so, in honor of that, here's a little peek at what Din and Doll are up to with their little family. This takes place about 2 years after the end of Beskar Doll and I hope you enjoy it!

Beskar Doll Master List | Full Master List

“But I’m ready, Buir!” 

Din sighed, looking over his daughter’s head to you. Grogu was on your hip, an amused smile on your face and a small fistful of hair in his little grasp. 

Aidla turned to you. Din couldn’t see her face but he was sure she was pouting. 

“Mama!” She protested. “I’m sure I can do it! Really!” 

“Patu!” Grogu said, drawing your attention. 

“OK, I don’t need the two of you teaming up on me,” you said, adjusting your hold on your son. “And no, Aidla. You’re not big enough.” 

“Finally, something we can agree on,” Din said, earning him a scowl from you. “Your mother is right, Aidla. You’re too little.” 

You insisting on coming along for every part of the bounty hunting process was a sore subject between the two of you now that you were pregnant again. 

It made Din incredibly nervous, watching you do anything dangerous in your condition. Of course, he had a whole new understanding of what dangerous was when it came to his children - and you, when you were carrying one. While you were the single most competent person he knew - a formidable adversary and the best partner he could hope for in any combat - that didn’t make what the two of you did for a living safe. Bounty skippers weren’t exactly ready to come quietly and they weren’t above using something like your pregnancy against either of you. 

You, however, were as stubbornly confident as ever. You were convinced that you could handle anything that got thrown at you as easily as you did before you were pregnant. Though, in your defense, you’d been correct when you were pregnant with Aidla. 

That didn’t make it any easier to watch you put yourself in harm’s way now. 

“Why can’t I at least try?” Aidla whined, her little beskar staff tight in her fist. “How can I become a warrior if you never let me really fight?” 

She turned to look at Din. 

“Buir, how old were you when you first fought a bad man?” 

He sighed. 

“Not much bigger than you,” he said reluctantly. 

She smiled, a little triumphant, before turning back to you.

“Mama,” she said. “I know you weren’t too much bigger than me when you and Aunt Sosha went to school. And you were fighting bad guys before that! Why can’t I do it?” 

You bounced Grogu on your hip for a moment before looking back at Din. 

“Don’t,” he said, looking between you and Aidla. 

“Patu,” Grogu said. 

“She has a point…” you said.

“She’s not old enough!” 

“Din,” you lowered your voice and moved closer to him, whispering near his ear on his helmet. “I’d been running information to the rebellion for years by the time I was her age…” 

“That doesn’t mean she’s…” 

Din didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence. His leg got pulled out from below him and he went down hard, his beskar armor clattering against the floor of the Razor Crest’s hold. He was barely on the ground when he felt the small feet of his daughter clambering up his back, the end of her staff pressed firmly into the back of his neck. 

“See, Buir?” She said from her place standing on his back. “I can do it! I’m ready!” 

“Aidla!” Din could hear you straining not to laugh as you scolded her. “That is not how we spar, you know better.” 

“Mama,” she said, exasperated as she climbed off Din’s back. “I wouldn’t spar the bad guys. I’d just fight them.” 

You disguised your laugh with a cough as Din got up with a grunt and sighed. He looked into his daughter’s wide, brown eyes, not unlike his own. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “You can try. But you have to follow mine and your mother’s orders the moment we tell you, understand?” 

“I understand!” She said quickly, throwing her arms around Din’s waist and burying her face in the armor there. “I’ll do so good, Buir! I promise I will!” 

“Better go get ready,” he sighed. “Desert clothes.” 

She nodded once before taking off to get changed and Din looked to you, a small smile on your face as you came to stand beside him. 

“She gets that from you, you know,” he said. 

You looked up at him, smiling smugly. 

“Finally,” you said. “Something we can agree on.” 

#fanfic #beskar doll #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x fem!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader