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lincolndjarin · 10 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter four : sarad'ika (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 6.8k

summary : you finally get a chance to see the gardens

warnings, etc. : language, panic attacks, general kodo grossness

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

Sarad'ika.

You won’t forget it this time, you can’t. So you write it in your book, just under Mando’s favorite color you write the two little words that have been keeping you up at night. Once you get that out of the way you’re left alone in the quiet, wide expanse of your room. You have about ten seconds of time alone with your thoughts before you get restless.

You need a change of scenery, and fast, because it’s taking every single ounce of restraint you have left to not stick your hand back up your dress, lock yourself in your room for the rest of the week, and think about that stupid, stupid dream. Opening the curtains you could see the sun starting to come up, so you pulled the rope that summons the girls because you desperately need a bath. You need to get rid of this dirty feeling that envelops you.

His phantom touch lingers on your skin. He had been so real, you swear you’ll have bruises on your waist when you undress.

Elaine and Lysa can’t get here fast enough, but when they do you’re already halfway out the door.

“Fresher, bath, now.” You’re still rocking a thin sheen of sweat and your mouth is dry. Lysa doesn’t seem thrown by your tone but you have to shoot Elaine a pleading look to make sure she doesn’t ask.

“Yes ma’am.” Elaine guides you into the fresher and quickly starts undoing your dress, while Lysa draws the bath. You know your entire body tenses up the moment she starts unlacing your bodice, thank the gods she doesn’t comment on it. You waste no time, the moment you’re free from your garments you step into the bath, you’re still not used to cold bathes like this, back on Hoth you’d pull from hot springs down in the planet's core to heat your water. But you couldn’t be more thankful for the cold now because it seems to be cooling the fire that lingers in your stomach. The girls retreat back to your chambers to prepare your outfit for the day.

“Not green.” You manage to squeak out as you sink lower into the bubbles. Watching them go. Alone with your thoughts again. Focus on something else. Don’t think about the Mandalorian. Think about how unnecessarily big this tub is. It’s less of a bathtub and more of a small pool honestly, you could swim laps in here. You float yourself over to the edge of the tub to find a washcloth, you need to scrub off any imaginary touches that might linger on your skin. You start at your shoulders, your mind manages to stay empty until you get to your chest. Then he’s there again, clear as day, so you try to think about something else, think about the least sexy thing you can, the first thing that comes to mind.

Your husband.

Yikes.

Surprisingly that works. You think about Kodo and the ache between your legs vanishes completely until you actually have to wash there. Gods, the last thing you need to do is start touching yourself here and now and have one of the girls walk in, so you make it quick, squeeze your eyes shut and shove the washcloth between your thighs and don’t think about him.

But you can’t get away from him, after a moment you open your eyes slowly and it’s like he’s right in front of you.

Fuck he’s actually right in front of you. The door to the fresher is wide open and it’s like he’s frozen in time, one hand on his blaster, the other on the door handle. His visor fixed on you.

He lingers way too long, you both know it.

Finally, in sync you both seem to snap out of it. He immediately turns ninety degrees to stare at the wall. You know he’s apologizing but you can’t hear him over the ringing in your ears as you feel your face turning crimson. You’re doing everything in your power to cover yourself with the bubbles but you know he definitely saw something, for Makers sake he was ogling you for a second there. There is a beat where it’s silent, you’re staring at him and he’s staring at the wall and finally you find your voice.

“Get out!” You’re covering your chest with one hand as you point at the door with the other. It might be the first time you’ve ever seen him stumble, Elaine walks in as he’s rushing out, wordlessly brushing past her, her eyes go wide as she turns from him to you. Your head is in your hands now. “I think I’m done.” She wraps you in a towel as you stand. She’s grabbing another towel to dry your hair as she extends a hand to help you step out. Guiding you to a stool and sitting you down, humming softly as she pats your hair dry. So much for the cold helping, now it feels like your entire body is on fire.

“He was just worried.” She says it matter of factly and you whip your head around to stare at her.

“What?”

“He was worried about you. We were in the closet when he barged in, all he saw was your bedroom doors wide open, and an absence of you. By the time I stepped out into the hall he was throwing doors open.” She smirks as she turns you back around so she can finish drying you off.

“He should have knocked…” You grumble as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Go easy on him, it’s the first time in what? Three weeks? Four weeks? He’s never been in a situation where he’s shown up to retrieve you and you weren’t there, he probably thought you were spirited away in the few hours he wasn’t keeping an eye on you.” Once your hair is mostly dry she starts loosely braiding it.

“I’m capable of surviving an hour without him.” You huff, you know she’s probably right. And there is a small part of you that kind of likes how much he seemingly cares.

“You’re his responsibility. I think it’s sweet how he takes his job so seriously.”

“Of course you think it’s sweet, he doesn’t follow you around like he’s your shadow.” You mumble but she laughs it off.

“Come on, Lysa is probably alone with him right now and freaking out, so we better not keep her waiting.” She covers you with a robe and takes you by the arm, ushering you back to your chambers.

You didn’t know it was possible to look ashamed through so many layers of metal and fabric, but there he is, standing outside your quarters like always except now he’s strung-out. You swear you catch his fingers clenching into a fist for a moment before brushing past him to get dressed, Elaine closing the door behind you before rushing over to Lysa. You’re standing in front of the mirror now and you can see them whispering to each other, you don’t bother trying to get involved when you see Lysa suppress a giggle.

They dress you in a lightweight pink gown, you’re thankful that they seemed to pick up on your distaste for heavy makeup as they do it much more simply, and before you can stop them they’re leaving. And now you have to sit and stare at yourself in the vanity, putting off the inevitable. It was going to be hard enough facing him without the whole bath incident but now it feels a thousand times worse. But you can’t put this off forever so you might as well get over it. Gritting your teeth you open the door and step out, before you can even look at him he’s rambling.

“I’m so sorry, I thought something might have happened to you, I assumed the worst and it was stupid and I should have knocked but I was worried and I promise I didn’t see anything and-” He stares at the floor the entire time and his words are rushed and quiet.

“Stop.” You cut him off. You had been prepared to let him grovel but the moment you heard how genuinely distressed he sounded you had decided to forgive him. You didn’t even know it was possible for him to sound so rattled, he’s acting like he saw a ghost.

“Stop?” He sounds like he’s got way more speech prepared and honestly, you don’t wanna hear it.

“It’s fine. It was an honest mistake and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” He hesitates for a moment. “But I am sorry.”

“Stop it.” You glare at him but start walking in the opposite direction of the library. “But… if you’re really sorry I know how you can make it up to me.”

“Anything.” Well you were gonna ask him to take you to the gardens but if he was offering up anything. It’s almost like he can read your mind because he immediately shoots you a warning look. “Within reason.” Damn it. Gardens it is.

“I believe you still have a promise to fulfill?” You stop at the fork in the hallway, no longer sure of where you’re going. It takes him a second to realize what you’re implying but after a moment he nods towards the right and walks slightly ahead of you instead of trailing behind.

By the time you make it outside and to the forest trail neither of you have spoken. There’s still an oppressive tension looming over you both. You can’t look at him and seemingly he can’t look at you.

Of course in your case it’s because last night he had stared in your own personal porno and in his case he just saw you naked and you just so happen to be married to the guy who pays his salary.

Maker, is this even salvageable at this point? Do you want to salvage this?

You have to. This is all you have. Even if you hate him, (although you’re not even sure if that’s still true) even if some small part of you is attracted to him, (you also aren’t sure that part is all that small anymore) even if he saw your tits this morning, (he definitely did.) He’s all you’ve got at this point. So yes, you want to salvage this. All you have to do is say something, if you say the right thing you can fix this whole mess. If you say the wrong thing he might never be able to look at you ever again but that has to be a risk you’re willing to take and your mind moves faster than your mouth as you blurt out what might be the dumbest thing you could possibly say right now.

“Are we friends?” Gods, are you a child? He doesn’t stop walking, doesn’t stop to look at you. His stride never wavers as he continues marching down the trail.

“I don’t have friends.” Well shit. Big surprise the guy who’s paid to spend time with you doesn't consider you a friend. “But, you are probably the closest thing I have to a friend. Even if you don’t have a choice in the matter of my presence.” He finally turns to look at you. Maker, he sounds genuine, why is your heart fluttering, he called you a friend, it doesn’t get less sexy than that. “Am I your friend?” Did his voice just crack? You’re imagining things.

“Well, I talk to you more than anyone else, I spend more time with you than anyone else, so I suppose you’re also the closest thing I have to a friend.” You’re about to say something snarky to make your statement less mushy but you step out of the trees and your eyes go wide.

It’s nothing like they say it is in books. You’d always imagined a garden to be one big mass of the same shade of green but it’s so much more than that. There’s so many different greens, they all stick out, and there’s so many other colors, nothing back on Hoth that compared to this. You’d all but forgotten about Mando as you just gawked. It was massive, you could probably spend all day walking and never step on the same spot twice. There’s so much you don’t even know where to start.

You didn’t even know real flowers could be that brightly colored. You’d only ever owned fake flowers growing up because nothing would grow in the cold, the sharp hues of your plastic lilies would look pathetic next to these. These were alive, they swayed in the wind. Bugs flew through the petals. Everything felt alive. Up until this point you had not found one part of this planet that you liked more than home, but this was better than anything you’d ever had a chance to see.

“Does it live up to your expectations?” He’s next to you now, you don’t understand how he’s looking at you and not the field, you can’t tear your eyes off of it. You want to hug him. Well, no, that would be inappropriate, but you’re so thankful you almost don’t care.

All things considered you probably shouldn’t even be alone with him at this point with your combined track record the only things that happen when you’re in the same vicinity are arguments. And now nudity. But you’re so happy you don’t give a shit. You’re so happy that when he holds his arm out to you, you take it without a second thought and let him lead the way.

You wonder if you’ve been this happy since you arrived. Have you been happy at all since you found out you were promised to Kodo? You can’t recall. He’s very thorough, he makes sure you get to see everything, every flower, vine, leaf and root. Everytime he stops in front of something so you can get a good look he waits until you move first, to make sure you’ve had your fill of every single thing. When you ask him questions about the flora he seems almost embarrassed that he doesn’t have answers for you. It’s kind of cute. You don’t know how long you stay like that, arm in arm. You don’t even hear him when he finally speaks, you’re completely captivated by a butterfly.

“What?” It isn’t the usual tone you take with him, there’s a warmth to your tone that you typically reserved for people back home.

“I asked if you wanted to play a game.” Well you certainly weren’t expecting that.

“What kind of game?” You can’t help but be skeptical, even though you don’t think he’d try and ruin your good mood and you want to trust him. This just seems out of character for him.

“Well, since we’re almost friends with each other, I thought we might get to know each other better. That’s what friends do, they know things about each other.” His voice is casual and he sounds almost relaxed. It suits him. And he’s right, friends should know each other.

Friends are good. Friends are safe. Friends don’t have sex dreams about each other. You should be friends. That’s the safest thing to be, and it would be nice to have a friend.

“So what… we just ask each other questions? That doesn’t sound like a game, it sounds like a conversation.”

“Sounds like someones scared of losing.” He looks straight ahead as the two of you begin walking towards what appears to be a lake, there’s a gazebo next to it and a few other things you can’t make out in the distance. You can’t help but scoff.

“Fine. What are the rules?”

“It’s simple, we ask each other questions but you can choose not to answer, you can pass. First person to pass on three questions loses.” Well this seems easy enough, and he’s so secretive you’ll win without a doubt.

“Okay, but I get to go first.”

“Of course.” Is he smiling under the helmet? He probably has a nice smile. Is that something friends think about each other? Who cares, you can let this one thought slide, it's innocent enough. you hesitate for a moment, why not start simple.

“Where are you from?”

“Pass.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly serious.” His tone is still light so you know you haven’t struck a nerve. How odd.

“Okay so wait, what do I get if I win? Since it’s obvious I’m going to.” That gets a genuine chuckle from him. It’s nice. It’s not as bassy as his voice is, but it’s still low, raspy and authentic. You want to hear it again.

“What do you want?”

For you to grope me in front of a mirror?

Well friends don’t certainly ask friends for that. What did you want?

“I want a question.”

“Well that just doesn’t make sense princess, we’re playing a question game.”

“No, the winner gets to ask the other person a question and they have to answer. No passing.” You know you have a smug look on your face, you already know what you’re going to ask. He thinks about it for a long time, long enough that you’re worried that he might say no.”

“Okay. Deal. Where are you from?” You’ve reached the gazebo now and you both take a seat. You rest your arms on the railing so you can stare at the lake.

“Hoth.”

“I didn’t know Hoth could sustain life.”

“We live underground, why did you take this job?” You kind of expect him to pass again but he answers without missing a beat.

“I needed the credits. This was the highest paying job.”

“Why did you need money?” You pull your eyes away from the water to look at him, you’re kind of surprised to find his helmet already facing you and not the scenery, it’s gorgeous here.

“It isn’t your turn.” He asks again before you can protest. “What’s your family like?” You consider passing but it could be worse.

“I have eight siblings and I’m really close with them. Well I was. I never got that close with my parents, small colony royalty, they liked to act like they were above it all so in our colony of less than 500 people who had nothing to do, we had nannies.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the memory. He nods slowly but doesn’t ask for a follow up so you just ask your next question. “Did you like being a bounty hunter?”

“I don’t really feel anything towards it. It was work, I didn’t hate it, I didn’t love it. I was just good at it.” He doesn’t even have his usual tone of arrogance, he says it like it’s a fact. “Did you choose to marry him?”

“Pass.” You respond way too quickly, and you know you’re practically giving him the answer by passing. But you don’t want to say it, don’t want him to feel sorry for you. “When do you eat and drink?” He chuckles again, Maker, you want to marry that laugh, you want to make love to that laugh, you want to bury yourself alive and die in that laugh. Nope, that’s not a normal thing friends think about each other you fucking weirdo.

“When you aren’t looking.”

“What? That doesn’t make any-”

“No follow up questions.”

You play for a long time, going back and forth until the sun is much lower in the sky. It’s exhilarating to have a real conversation go on this long, the two of you don’t even argue (for the most part.) He tells you so much about himself that you can hardly remember all of it, you keep a mental list of your favorite things.

“Did you really read the Smitten Paladin?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a little straw in your helmet so you can drink stuff?”

“No.”

“Do you sweat a lot in all those layers?”

“Sometimes.”

“Is your name really Mando? Cause that’s, like, super convenient if it is.”

“It’s not.”

“What is your name?”

“Pass.”

“What color is your hair?”

“Brown.”

Now you’re tied, whoever passes next loses. You had passed earlier when he had asked if you wanted the rest of your books back. Cocky son of a bitch. When you had asked if he had read them all he responded with, “ Not yet.” You need to win. So you think long and hard until you come to a question you’re sure he won’t answer.

“Where are your quarters?” You give him a satisfied smirk, let's see him worm his way out of this one.

“Why do you want to know?”

Yikes. He’s got you there. Do friends usually ask friends where they sleep? Doesn’t matter, you’re so close to the win that you just deflect.

“Are you gonna pass?”

He takes a minute. A long minute, just staring at the lake, and you’re ready to accept the win when he points out past the water.

“There’s a cabin just on the edge of the pond. I live there.”

You’re so shocked he actually answered that you don’t even care that he didn’t pass, you squint and sure enough there it is, you’re surprised you didn’t see it before but it blends in so well with the trees. There’s a small cabin by the edge of the water. You have a million follow up questions but of course he cuts you off before you can ask any of them.

“What did you mean when you said I was your least favorite?”

Shit. You can’t believe he remembers that. Gods you don’t want to lose, and you can’t bring yourself to lie because you would always know your win wasn’t real and there’s no satisfaction in that. So you sigh.

“My first couple of days here I was very bored so I made a list of my favorite people here.” You can feel your face getting hot. He must be getting used to seeing you get red like this, it practically happens hourly at this point. “You used to be on the bottom of the list but now you aren’t.”

“Where am I now?” There is no hurt in his voice, just speculation. He’s leaning closer to you now. You can’t help but close your eyes and just enjoy his smell for a fleeting moment. Smoke, metal, and fresh linen. That last one is a bit shocking, he must have other flight suits that all look the same.

“No follow up questions.” You smirk. “How did you know I left my room that one night I snuck out to the library if you live across the lake?”

“Pass.” You don’t even get to enjoy the win because you’re a little disappointed that you don’t get to know the answer. “You win princess.” He stands and holds out his arm again and you quickly take it as you start walking back in the direction of the trail. When had it gotten so dark? The sun was nearly set and you’d hardly even noticed. You’d spent the whole day out here.

You want to ask your question immediately but the moment you open your mouth he speaks.

“We should do this more often.” He sounds so carefree, it catches you off guard

“The game?”

“No, but we can do that as well if you’d like, but I meant getting out of the castle.” Honestly the thought of being out more often thrills you, you just aren’t sure what the rules for that are since you married into the royal family.

“I would love to get out to the garden more often.” You whisper it, almost just to yourself.

“Not just the garden. Have you ever seen the rest of this planet?”

“No.” You haven’t even been off of the royal grounds.

“Okay, new deal. On the first day of the week we go somewhere, even if it is just the gardens.” Your heart skips a beat. He has a day now, just like Kodo, Mando has his own day. You wish you could keep the dopey grin off your face.

“Deal.”

You don’t speak until you're back inside the castle, you don’t even speak when you walk through the halls, you’ve finally found a comfortable silence with each other. You do of course unlink your arms, you don’t know why you both feel the need to pull away at the same time. After all you’re just friends, but you do anyway. Now you’re at the door to your chambers and Leo is waiting for you, impatiently tapping his foot.

“You didn’t attend any of your meals.” His voice is short, clearly upset with you. You give him an apologetic look, and you are hungry.

“Sorry… I guess I just lost track of time, if you bring dinner to my chambers I’ll eat now.” Normally you’d just go to the dining hall but you want one more moment alone with Mando. Leo eyes the two of you but takes his leave.

“As you wish, ma’am.” As he begins walking away you turn back to your steel companion.

“You owe me one more question.” You grin up at him. You wish you could see if he was smiling too.

“Ask away, princess.” He puts his hands on his hips as the helmet turns down towards you.

“What does sarad'ika mean?” You say a silent prayer that this doesn’t ruin the perfect day you’ve had. He doesn’t respond or move for quite some time. Your stomach is in knots and you start mentally cursing yourself out for bringing this up again. But he clears his throat and when he does speak it’s so unexpectedly gentle you almost take a step back.

“In Mando’a, sarad means flower, or bloom, and ika means little.”

Little flower.

He had called you little flower.

You don’t think friends call each other little flower.

You honestly aren’t sure what to say so you just sort of nod, but you don’t want him to feel like he upset you so when you open the door to your room you turn back towards him one last time.

“Thank you Mando. I had a really nice day.”

“Good night princess.”

“Good night.” You close the door.

You wish he had called you sarad'ika again. ✩

The next three cycles are the best you’ve had so far.

You don’t talk about your question and honestly that’s fine because you still aren’t sure how you feel about it. But being friends with Mando is nice, once you convince him that you aren’t going to bolt the second he looks away you actually get him to read a few books, you’re surprised he never picked something up until now considering how much time you two actually spend in the library. You stick with your fiction novels and are surprised to find how much he enjoys history books. He's a fast reader and matches your pace of a book or two a day.

But it’s the fifth cycle of the week. Which means you’re dolled up in blue and you have dinner with your husband tonight. You haven’t seen Kodo since your last dinner when he humiliated you so you aren’t exactly excited. Something tells you Mando isn’t all that thrilled either, he’s quiet today. He’s always quiet until you get him going but you aren’t feeling chatty today so neither is he. You both read in silence for as long as you can until finally you can’t put it off any longer and you loudly slam your book shut and stand.

“We should probably get going.” You smooth out the wrinkles in your dress from sitting so long. He doesn’t speak, only nodding as he stands, setting his book down on top of yours. You begrudgingly make your way down the hall and are thrown off by the amount of noise coming from the dining hall, when Mando opens the large doors for you you’re shocked to see nearly a dozen men eating, Kodo is seated at his typical spot, the head of the table and he stands as he sees you.

“Wife! So good of you to join us! I thought I’d invite some of my brothers and cousins to dine with us tonight.” He’s just as drunk if not drunker than he was last time and much to your discomfort the rest of the men don’t seem much different. Taking a nervous step inwards Mando starts to close the doors once the two of you are inside. “One moment Mandalorian, you won’t be needed tonight. Afterall, it’s just family.” There’s suddenly ice in your veins. You spent so much time trying to get rid of him you hadn’t thought about what would happen when he wasn’t there to protect you.

“I’ve sworn myself to her, I’ll stay” A chill runs up your spine. You’d gotten so used to his voice being lighthearted and gentle that it sends a jolt through you to hear him speaking so sternly. You don’t recognize the tone, even from your first few days with him. More importantly, when the hell did he swear himself to you? Was that a part of the job Kodo was paying him to do? It seems a bit severe for a bodyguard gig.

Kodo doesn’t seem in the slightest affected by the inflection of his voice even though the other men in the room look wary.

“I insist, Mandalorian. Take the night off.” He holds his cup towards the two of you before he sits back down and starts rambling to the men, seemingly picking up where he left off on some sort of hunting story. You turn, your eyes wide with worry towards Mando, you want to beg him to stay, you want you grab him by the shoulders and plead with him to not leave you alone but you know that he can’t. Even if he wanted to. It’s not like he can fight every royal family member, all the staff, and the half dozen battle droids that trailed behind Kodo. He turns to leave and you turn back towards the table but before he opens the door you hear him whisper just loud enough so only you can hear it.

“I’ll be right outside. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.” And then he’s gone, the doors close with a loud thunk and you pull up a chair.

Surprisingly Mando’s promise helps you relax, you sip your wine and you don’t have too bad of a time. It’s a miracle that the presence of all of Kodo’s relatives is a bit of a blessing. Sure, the room being full of men originally was absolutely terrifying but they keep his attention off of you and you quickly realize that they’re too scared to even look at you, you don’t understand that bit for a while until in an instant it clicks.

You’re Kodo’s.

He calls you wife because that’s all you are. You belong to him, therefore it would be an insult to Kodo to leer at you. As disheartening as that is, it's a bit of a relief and you’re able to enjoy most of your dinner until the servants come around and take your plates, which is a welcome sight because it means you can leave. Funnily enough you miss Mando standing behind your shoulder. You feel almost empty without him looming although you suppose you’re bound to feel that way after spending four full weeks by each other's sides. You’re eager to get back to him, to feel the safety of his presence and you’re about to stand up and leave when Kodo’s voice fills the room, commanding the attention of everyone present.

“Isn’t she just a gem?” In the blink of an eye everyone's heads are turned towards you. “Such a pretty little thing,” His grin is viscous and the way he says it makes your skin crawl. “aren’t you princess?” You hate the way it sounds coming from his mouth, and not in the same way you “hate” it when Mando says it. You detest the way Kodo says it.

But he’s so drunk a small wind could knock him over. You can handle this. If you can tease a Mandalorian you can subdue a douche bag prince.

“Thank you, my prince.” You bite back the venom that inevitably tries to seep out.

“Don’t you all think she’s lovely?” Once everyone's eyes are on you, you feel less confident. You wish he would just go back to calling you bland as the men nod and hum in agreement. You feel sick. It’s like having dinner with a dozen Kodo’s, they all have the same dull blonde hair and unpleasant voices. You’re preparing to leave again when what you assume is a cousin speaks up. He looks like he has a few years on Kodo and you know that the prince is the eldest of his brothers.

“When do you plan on getting her pregnant?”

You want to throw up. You can’t stand the way they talk about you like you aren’t even there.

Kodo’s grin widens.

“I think we’ll wait. My father is still young and if her looks are her only redeeming quality, I'd like to keep them intact for as long as possible.” The table erupts in laughter and you think about throwing your wine glass at him. Would that be considered treason? You don’t know so you just tune them out, you know they’re still talking about you, they do for a while.

So you drink your wine and stare straight ahead. Now that Kodo has seemingly given them permission to speak of you they don’t stop. Every once in a while you’ll catch a sentence or two and you have to swallow down the bile that threatens to erupt from your throat. They’re shameless, and they’re vulgar. The only thing that keeps you seated is that you know that none of them will lay a hand on you. It’s the only perk to being seen as nothing more than an extension of your husband. They won’t touch you because you’re his. You have a hard time finding comfort in that fact.

After what feels like an hour you stand up, your chair screeching loudly against the wood.

“I’m rather tired. I think I shall retire to my chambers.” You don’t bother hiding the repulsion from your voice but Kodo only smiles and nods as you turn to leave.

“Goodnight, wife.”

“Goodnight, husband. ”

You don’t turn back around until you’re out of the room.

You let out a sigh of relief once the doors are closed and immediately look for Mando, you don’t see him at first and a wave of betrayal washes over you. Did he leave? He had promised to stay. Could you even be mad at him for leaving? Kodo offered him the night off, he hasn’t had so much as an hour off since he started. You think back to what he had said weeks ago.

“You’re a full time job, sarad'ika.”

You hadn’t even thought of how draining that must be until now.

But he had promised.

Stop being a cry baby, don’t act like some heartbroken little girl, you’re being overdramatic.

You only get a few steps away from the dining hall when you almost trip over something and when you look down he’s there. He had been so still you’d missed him entirely. He’s too still. He should have said something by now, or gotten up. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach as you look around. Kodo dismissed all the guards on this floor except for the several repurposed battle droids in the dining hall that served as his personal guard, there’s no one here to help you as you kneel down directly in front of him. His back is against the wall and his knees are bent, hands folded in front of him.

“...Mando?” you say it as delicately as you can manage, leaning your head forward so you’re in his direct line of sight. “Mando are you alright?” Is he shaking? “Mando, I need you to talk to me.” You can hear the anxiety in your own voice, echoing through the silent hallway. He doesn’t move so you just say fuck it and crawl between his legs so you can rest your ear against his chest, it isn’t easy with the chestplate but you settle in just above it.

Maker, his heart is racing.

You pull back and stare into the helmet. The concern is apparent in your expression as you place both hands on the sides of his helmet as you would when holding someone's face. His chest is rising and falling too fast.

“Can you breathe Mando? I need you to talk to me, can you breathe through the helmet?”

Fuck you can’t tell. You lean in closer, resting your temple against the Beskar until you can hear his breaths. The modulator isn’t even picking them up, you’re hearing them through the steel.

It sounds like he’s hyperventilating.

“It’s me Mando. I need you to tell me you're okay or I’m going to have to take your helmet off to make sure you can breathe.” Gods, you don’t want to have to do this. You whisper your own name a few times to him. “It’s me Mando, I’m right here.” You’re about to do it, you don’t know what other options you have so you squeeze your eyes shut tight and grip the steel of his helmet and take in a deep breath, in the beat of silence before you can bring yourself to do it you hear the modulator crackle.

“Are you hurt? It’s like he’s just waking up as his hands fly to your hips, holding onto you like he can’t even believe you’re real. The modulator barely picks up his murmur. But you drop your hands down and rest them on his shoulders as you sigh in relief. Thank the stars.

“No, I’m okay.”

He’s nearly incoherent as he speaks softly and quickly you barely catch most of it, the modulator doesn’t pick up the majority of it so you have to listen closely to hear his voice through the helmet, he’s still struggling to catch his breath.

“I didn’t know what to do… never felt so useless… never frozen up before… could hear everything… to rip his tongue out… talked about you like that… if any of them had touched… would have broken down that damn door … wouldn’t care about the stupid droids…”

All animosity you had ever felt towards the man in front of you vanished, even if temporary. Because that’s all he was right now. He wasn’t the Mandalorian, right now he was only a man.

“I’ve never… don’t understand what… wanted to stay… what if you… too many droids…” You press your forehead against his helmet to try and hear better and you finally manage to put together a couple sentences. “I couldn’t just go in, because if I got hurt, who would look after you? I can’t protect you from a jail cell, I’ve never had to worry about that before…”

You can’t take the way his voice shakes so you hold his helmet in your hands again and tilt it upwards to meet your gaze.

“Hey… I am okay.” You enunciate each word as you stare into the strip of black. “Nothing happened, I am unharmed.” You take his hand in yours and bring it up to your face so it cradles your cheek. “See? I’m okay, nothing happened to me. And if something was going to happen to me you would stop it. Okay?”

You sit like that for several minutes. Knelt between his legs, rubbing your thumb gently against the helmet as his unmoving hand rests on your face.

It takes him a while but his breathing finally seems to level out. When he speaks again he’s loud enough for the modulator to pick up and it’s jarring how normal he suddenly sounds.

“It’s late, you should be in bed.”

“Okay.” You’re just happy he’s okay.

Although now you feel a bit self conscious about the position the two of you are in. But it’s like he reads your mind as he puts his hands on your waist and easily lifts you as he gets to his feet. You don’t have a chance to say anything before he’s already walking. You just follow, and when you arrive he opens the door to your chambers for you.

You want so desperately to speak. You want to comfort him, you want to say anything to let him know that you’re okay, that he’s okay, but he speaks first.

“Good night princess.” He says it with a finality that lets you know that there will be no further discussion on what just happened. That tomorrow you will act as if this never happened. But you don’t want that.

“Good night, Mando.”

He waits for you to close the door, you wait for him to walk away. But neither of those things happen. So instead, because the two of you are just friends, you open the door a little wider.

“Do you wanna come in?”

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #RE UPLOAD

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luciferscowgirl · 2 months

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Okay, let’s make this a ✨masterlist✨

My most recent/ongoing work:

Never to Return - Catholic virgin fem OC x Cardinal Copia (let’s call it a slowburn maybe?) // most recent chapter here

(If you want to be included in a tag list concerning this ongoing series, hmu!)

My most recent one shot here (TW)

Dom Cardinal Copia:

In the name of Distraction - 1st person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he is a brat tamer in this.)

La piccola morte - 1st person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he helps you deal with a bad dream in his own ways.)

You and Me and the Devil makes Three - 2nd person fem POV x fem oc x Cardinal Copia (he likes to watch you watch him. A threesome.)

“This might’ve been a little bit too much” - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (Copia is not amused and he’s going to punish you for it.)

“Mangiamo!” - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he’s a bit switchy in this, but that’s your fault.)

One Morning with Cardinal Copia - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (he’s a soft dom in this, and he woke up horny.)

Lay all your Love on me - 1st person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (flash fic. He’s a soft dom and makes sure to kiss you properly before he goes all the way)

Morning Indulgence - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (a lovely somno fic. You wake up needy for the Cardinal. Soon, the two of you are busy waking each other up.)

Showtime - 2nd person fem POV x Papa/Cardinal Copia (established relationship. Copia is a lil jealous and wants to show you who you belong to. He also likes boxing, as it seems.)

One out of Three - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia x Special Ghoul (established relationship with Cardinal Copia. You two are getting a little freaky with a Ghoul. Copia takes the reins in this little adventure of yours. It’s also very gay in a way.)

Your Infernal Majesty - 3rd person fem x Cardinal Copia/Dracopia (CW/TW: NonCon stuff! | Year 1350. A young, untouched woman follows the mysterious Cardinal back to his mansion out of sheer curiosity, and what happens is something she is not going to remember.)

Sub Cardinal Copia:

An ice-capped Fire - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (Copia is a whiny, pleading little whore in this short one shot.)

Fics with more than one chapter:

If I could turn back the Time… - 2nd person fem POV x Cardinal Copia (my first fic ever. Never intended to write more than one part. I add to them whenever I see fit. // Reader basically meets her old flame after ten years of not having been able to see him.)

Until you’re Mine - 2nd person fem POV x Dracopia ! (Reader goes on an adventure to meet the Cun-, the Count and it’s oddly Bram Stoker’s Dracula coded.)

Never to Return - 3rd person catholic virgin OC POV x Cardinal Copia (Alice is a catholic woman who lives a pious life, well, does she really? Because one errant night, she meets a mysterious, satanic man who’s gonna help her with exploring new shores…)

My Wattpad account:

I’m slowly but surely transferring all my fics from Wattpad to AO3 so there might still me some which I haven’t uploaded on AO3 yet, like this one for example.

Copia is quite the violent dom in there.

Thank you all for reading my silly little stories! 💓💓💓

Here’s a photo of the man I am definitely not obsessed with 🤥:

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holewithinahole · 10 months

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The Spirit's in It | Egon Spengler x nb!reader [1/3]

Summary: “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Warnings: dubious science, non-native writer, non-beta'd

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Ao3 Link

Woopsies, I'm back to plaster my insecurities on fictional characters. This work is part of a two-part series which follows the events of the Ghostbusters primary canon. The first part, set during the first movie, will be cut in 3 smaller bits for Tumblr. When all parts will be posted, I'll upload it on Ao3. The parts are all written, so it'll be released soon enough.

I just want to do a little disclaimer. Usually my 'reader' characters are very loosely characterized so anyone can project on them. However, this reader might not fit everyone? I'm sorry about that. Overall, if you're autistic, on the aro/ace spectrum or just a tiny bit ND, you might feel more connection to the reader lmao.

Ah! Also, the science sucks, pls ignore. It can be read as a prequel to It's always the quiet ones, btw.

Summer, 1984

This is a good song, you think, the beat intense enough to distract the back of your brain as you write down the last advancements of your research. You’ve spent the entire month of July reading books and other scientists’ papers, but not managing – until now – to sit down and order the large number of notes you piled up. Running on the pure energy of your hyper-focused state, a dozen cups of coffee and a single chocolate bar, you definitely didn’t notice the man stepping into your lab, not until you randomly glanced up and met the disconcerted gaze of an unknown guest.

“Excuse me?” he mouths out.

You straighten in your chair so quickly your back snap.

“Ah! Yes! Sorry, what is it?” you stammer, taking out your headphones with shaky hands and fumbling with your Walkman.

The man stands at the entrance of the lab, strangely stiff, seemingly assessing his next course of action before taking exactly four steps toward your desk.

“I would like to borrow a soldering iron.” He rights his glasses up his long nose.

The first thing you take note of is the low modulation of his voice; an unusual pitch that seems to vibrate directly out of his chest. The second is his wide, rigid build. From your chair, he towers over you, and your neck is starting to hurt from stretching uncomfortably (it might just be your overall terrible posture.)

You’ve been staring a little too long so you clear your throat and get up. “And you are? Not that I’m unwilling to lend you a soldering iron but I can’t just give my tools to strangers–”

“Dr. Spengler, I work at the psychology pole of this university,” he interrupts.

He looks at you like you’ve got a stain right in the middle of your forehead. You glance away.

“Psychology? What do you intend to solder? A loose neuron?” You stand up, cracking up a joke nervously.

“I assure you I don’t conduct any dangerous experiments on unwilling subjects.”

Despite the tension, it’s the ‘unwilling’ that does it for you and you let out a chuckle. Finally meeting his eyes, the light frown he adorns is either one of incomprehension or irritation, making you drop the smile immediately.

“Uh–” you croak out before you decide better not to say anything. You both end up looking awkwardly at each other, and time seems to be stretching to amplify your discomfort – and probably his as well. It feels like orbiting a black hole while he’s rushing through the universe at 18.5 miles a second.

Smart enough to be a researcher, stupid enough to ruin a simple conversation.

Fingers fidgety, you walk away to rummage through your closets, taking out the tool and handing it to him. “I do intend to have it back soon, Dr. Spengler.”

There’s a slight hesitation in his hand before he takes it, nodding curtly. In your defense, you do try to smile, even if it’s an uptight, embarrassing attempt. Oddly enough, he doesn’t leave, staring at the iron for a couple of seconds.

Abruptly, he clears his throat, looking intently at your face. “I’m improving a prototype that detects the presence of paranormal entities and directs me to them using a boron-trifluoride counter tube and a platinum electrode.” He doesn’t even take a breath. “A component of the rate meter I installed seems to be defective, and the cable of my soldering iron broke while I was working.”

He comes to a sudden stop, mouth half-opened but doesn’t resume his explanation. At a loss on how to react –and surely gaping at him considering you weren’t expecting to be slapped across the face by a presentation on neutron detectors, you whisper a small: “I see.”

A nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth makes your stomach drop.

“Uh, I mean; you can borrow mine!” You let out a tiny laugh. “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

Ground control to Major Tom, your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong, screams your forgotten Walkman.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dr. Spengler didn’t come back to your lab after your disastrous first meeting. He did return the iron, though. You simply found it on your desk one morning at seven o'clock, electric cable neatly wrapped around the handle.

You were secretly hoping for the doctor to come back to your lab to hand the iron back, so you could have apologized and asked more about his work, about his degrees… anything really. You had planned the interaction at least thirty times, going through a series of ice-breaking sentences that all relied on the fact that he would be back. He had preferred to avoid you, which couldn’t compel you to go see him yourself. Clearly, you had left a bad impression, and anxiety wouldn’t let you go look for him to apologize.

In the meantime, intrigued by his academic history, you started going through published papers by Dr. Egon – you quickly learned – Spengler. And if you thought you couldn’t get more curious about this mystery of a man, you browsing through numerous seemingly random articles – like ‘Quantum tunneling in anastomosis formations and nuclear exchanges’ – made you raise many eyebrows. Your fascination reached new heights with his brilliant article on ionizing radiation, written in M.I.T. no less. Egon Spengler had become the person you wished to chat with the most yet the most inaccessible.

You can think of a million questions to ask him, a million conversations to have. Why ionizing radiations? Did he have an interest in cosmic particles? Were his studies on gamma radiation related to his microbiology degree? How did he end up working in the psychology aisle of Columbia? Could ectoplasms really be quantified as a network of negatively charged particles?

Your life became filled with thoughts of the doctor, so you blamed it all on professional curiosity and you pushed yourself back into your work. Labs have been deserted by most researchers, preferring to treat themselves to a well-earned vacation. Nothing you can’t agree with in essence but previously attempted vacations had instilled a strong feeling of dread in you: you showed yourself incapable of not visualizing the amount of unfinished work. It’s not as bad as it sounds, really, to be work-obsessed; you love your work. Summer in Columbia is peaceful, solitary but also desperately unstimulating. Researching alone is undoubtedly slower, especially in your field, and knowing there’s an ideal candidate for some great brainstorming a few buildings away is nerve-wracking.

After an entire month going by with no new interaction with Dr. Spengler – not even sighting him at the corner of a corridor, the awkwardness that made him run away fuels your guilt. However, the opportunity of meeting again with Dr. Spengler comes unexpectedly. It comes with a mandatory meeting with the dean of the academy.

“You’ve been summoned as well, uh?”

You snap out of your social distancing trance. “Sorry?”

Next to you stands another professor with an easygoing smile and a relaxed stance. “Dean Yaeger. He likes to summon us like he’s royalty,” he jokes followed by a low staccato of a laugh.

“Oh,” you pointlessly say. “Yeah, he tends to do that.”

He offers his hand, showing another pearly-white-toothed smile. “I’m Dr. Ray Stantz, department of psychology.”

You offer your name back as you shake his hand. “Department of Physics.”

“Neat.” Dr. Stantz grins. “You should drop by our aisle sometimes. Spengs has a degree in physics; I’m sure you’ll get along well.”

“Who?”

“Dr. Egon Spengler, my colleague and friend.”

“Oh.” How you despise idle chatting. “I know him. He came to my lab to borrow a soldering iron about a month ago.”

“Venkman – our other colleague, forced him to go ask; he was so grumpy after being stopped in the middle of his experiment.” Dr. Stantz sure does enjoy making conversation. “He returned it, right?”

You have the impression he already knows the answer. “Yes, he did.”

“What field of physics do you specialize in by the way?” he asks excitedly. You have to say his jolly attitude is endearing, slowly getting you more at ease.

“High-energy physics.”

“That’s amazing, man. ‘actually wish I knew more about it. You should definitely swing by our lab soon. You can take a look at what we’ve–”

“Ah. Dr. Stantz.” Dean Yeager has the most distasteful expression on his face. “You may come in.”

Dr. Stantz gives you an apologetic look as Yaeger nods at you. You remain standing in front of the door, anxiety spiking up. Now you have no other choice than to go, or it’ll be rude, right?

Shit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It took you more than a week of conditioning to get your ass moving, leading you, once more, in front of a closed door. You have to say, this part of the psychology department is far from what you’ve imagined. You wonder what Dr. Stantz, Dr. Venkman, and Dr. Spengler did to offend Dean Yaeger to the point of being located in the university equivalent of a demilitarized zone. No wonder they need to borrow equipment from the physics department. The bright red ‘Burn in hell Venkman’ tagged on the door isn’t the most welcoming sight either.

You reluctantly raise your hand and knock four times. The shuffling you hear inside almost makes you run away. But thankfully – or miserably you’re still unsure about that one, an unknown man opens the door. Dr. Venkman, you guess.

A lazy smile stretches on his face. “Can I help you?” There’s a low edge to his voice, something that’s intended and practiced.

You try not to come out as too appalled. “I’m looking for Dr. Spengler.”

Dr. Venkman raises an eyebrow, and you immediately chastise yourself. At that moment, you see Dr. Spengler popping his head behind him and you lose your train of thought… and your words. “Uh, Dr. Stantz told me to–”

Dr. Venkman opens his eyes almost comically wide, pivoting slowly between Dr. Spengler and yourself. “Aaal-right. You know what; I have to meet up with Veronica of the literature department so– I’ll leave you guys to it.” He claps obnoxiously on his friend’s shoulder before departing, sliding past you while whistling some tune.

You watch him go, slightly distracted when Dr. Spengler grabs your attention again. “Dr. Stantz isn’t here today.”

“Ah, I see…” No wait–

“He’ll be here tomorrow at 8 am.” He angles his body towards the inside of the room like he’s wanting to go back to what he was previously doing.

“Actually,” you force out, heart at the edge of your lips. “I wanted to apologize to you.”

Only the small widening of his eyes behind his frames indicates his surprise because his voice remains soft-spoken. “Apologize for?”

Better to be honest than invent a stupid excuse he’ll probably spot immediately. “Yes, I clearly made you uncomfortable last time. I was only trying to idle-chat, but I’m terrible at it.”

“What makes you think you made me uncomfortable?” Dr. Spengler asks.

A few seconds pass. “…because I went out of my way by questioning whether or not you had the knowledge to speak about particle physics?”

“Did you?” You realize he’s probably genuinely asking, not as a way to rile you up but as a way to understand. Somehow, it calms your nerves. Just a little.

“No,” you say. “I’m sorry… you just looked upset when you left.”

He faces you completely this time, taking his time to answer. “Then I’m the one apologizing. I was grateful for your help, but I failed to show it.”

Some part of you wonders if it’s entirely true. You brush it off. “It’s alright. I guess we’re not good at understanding social cues, uh?”

He seems to be pondering something. “I’ve been told that before.”

You chuckle. There’s a tension off his shoulders, and you thank Dr. Stantz internally.

“I’m actually working on a prototype of particle thrower. Your input would be appreciated.”

“A what?!”

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #ghostbusters imagine #ghostbusters #ghostbusters reader insert #non binary reader

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mysticalsoups · 1 year

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I need a way out | Joel Miller x reader

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Joel Miller 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Slight E4 spoilers! Splinters, kidnapping

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You are tired, hurt and lost in Kansas City after rummaging the suburbs, getting kidnapped and escaping. You meet Joel and Ellie

𝐖𝐂: 1,4k

𝐀𝐍: There will be another part! If there is enough animo, I might make a series out of this :) I haven't written for Joel before, and even though Joel isn't seen much in this part; I have many ideas! Also, warning: this chapter is not proof read, I wrote this and wanted to upload it as soon as I could :p

ao3

"Ouch." You hissed while flapping your left hand in the air as a reaction of plucking out a big piece of splinter from the palm of your hand. "That fucking stings."

Your right hand grabbed your bag in search of the flashlight you had packed in the side pocket. With a click came a flash of light and you placed the end of the flashlight in your mouth. You picked up the tweezers from the dirty floor and tried to pick out the remains of the splinter out your hand. With some cursing and grunting, you got all the splinters out. You had no time, or even the recourses to clean your hand the normal way before beginning, so all you did was splash over a little bit of the vodka you kept in your flask over your hand. You grabbed the bandages and before wrapping your hand you remembered you put down the tweezers on a dirty floor, so you had to desinfect your hand again. "There goes my fuel." You mumbled and poured down every last drop of your beloved drink on your hand.

After you had wrapped your hand and put everything back in the spot things belonged; the tweezers in your toiletbag filled with medical supplies, your flashlight in the sidepocket of your backpack and the flask was the only thing placed in a spot where it wasn't before; the front pocket of your bag instead of your jacket.

Your feet hurt, you were hungry and you felt drained. But you had to climb on these stairs, to the roof so you can scout for a way out of this damned city named Kansas. You have no clue how you ended up here in the first place, it was a day filled with chaos.

This morning you left your camp with a handful others, to go scouting in the suburbs for food and more medical supplies. When you got there, you all paired up with a partner and got supplied a list of houses that needed to be searched. You scoffed and cringed internally when Marshall teamed you up with Chase. Of course you would be teamed up with him, Chase did everything in his power to get you on this date he has been nagging you about for months. It did not surprise you he actually bribed Marshall to be teamed up with you.

"I hope you liked the flowers." He said while you were rummaging through some drawers of a kitchen. It was a nice kitchen actually, it had a lot of space; a long counter with a sink, microwave and coffeemaker; behind you was the kitchen island with a six gaspit stove and an oven; and of course, a lot of storage space with adorable cupboards above the counter. A lot of room to make multiple things at once, maybe a cake while cooking dinner even. You could see yourself use a kitchen like this, living in a house like this.

"Oy!" The nagging voice of Chase disturbed your thoughts and you looked up to him, confused. "Hm?"

"I said, I hope you liked the flowers, I know they are your favourite." "Oh! Uh- yeah, I did! They were lovely." You sighed back, not wanting to make a fuss about the fact that you actually gave them rightaway to mrs. Gallagher. They were beautiful, that was true. But what wasn't true was the fact that you liked roses, especially in the form of romance; you adored dandelions much more in general.

When he was about to open his mouth, the high pitched noice of trucks stopping abrupetley sounded through the neighbourhood. You ducked and crawled to the window, peeking open the curtain just a little bit to see what was going on. There were people armed with heavy machinery jumping off those trucks, kicking in doors and dragging people out. The same people you got here with. The sound of guns shooting and men screaming made you bolt for the backdoor. "Wait for me!" Chase yelled. He ran after you, into the line of trees.

"Fucking hell." Panted Chase, "Where did those guys come from?" You made a sussing noice, gesturing for him to get low to the ground. "Get low!" You yelled in a whisper.

"No way man! We need to get out of here." He yelled in a whisper back and continued his way further into the tree lines. "It'll get you killed!" You said back, too focused on him. It made you miss the gigantic dude walking up to you, now clicking the safety pannel on his gun pointed at your head.

"Stop walking or I'll shoot her brains out." The voice sounded heavy with a hint of a sore throat. You hope the bastard choked on a mouthfull of glass while raising your hands in the air. His mates followed along and grabbed you by the wrists before dragging you along to their trucks. Marshall already sat, by the rest of the group and he looked apologetic. You better hoped for that son of a bitch he also was sorry for teaming you up with Chase, because without him and his yapping ass you wouldn't be in this place.

They tied up ropes around your wrist before you could leave the truck and by your guesses, the rookie got assigned your wrists, because one swift motion and you would be out of them. That would get in handy later.

A couple minutes later, your group stood in front of the opening of a tall building, guards surrounding you. The building said something with FEDRA. The leader of their group was making big talk, you got bored quick. You got too focused on looking for ways out, you missed the part where one of your teammates spoke up. He was practically yelling and you couldn't make out his words, but by how everyone reacted on the enemy front and your own team; it'd probably end up in a fight. Just to be sure you took a step back, putting a bit of tension on the ropes. The moment one person gave the other a fist on the face, all hell broke loose. Everyone was too focused on the fight, you saw your chance to pry your hands out the rope and run for your life.

Just when you was about to turn a corner, you heard a male shouting: "We have a runner!". You knew this was going to be a long night, so you kept on running. Eventually you reached a dead end, standing between two tall buildings and a wooden fence. You knew going back was no option and certainly staying was no option either, so you did what seemed most logical and that was jump over the wooden fence. And holy fuck, that left your hand hurting a lot.

A quick scan of the area, you saw a door half-way open and you hoped by all the gods ever known to human kind, the door to the roof was open. Funnily enough, the door clicked close behind you so the enermy had less reason to search this building, they were probably dumb enough to think you took one of the alleyways.

So that's how you got here, okay so you lied a bit in the beginning; you knew how you got here in theory, but how will you find your way back to the camp?

Just a couple stories left to go, you can do this. With every breath you had, you almost reached the top of the staircase when you heard the giggling of a girl. "This is so goddamn stupid." The voice of a man sounded. "You laughed motherfucker." The girl said, which made you snicker in yourself. "I didn't laugh." The girl was out of breath from giggling you heard in the way she sounded when she said "Yes you did." With your hands raised up high, since you had no weapons because you lost them to the people from the trucks took them from you, you took some steps on the stair.

"Jesus, I'm losing it." Just a couple more steps, what were you gonna say? "You're losing it big time." The chuckles of both the girl and the male sounded through your head. You were now walking to the door with the broken window. They hadn't seen you, yet.

"Excuse me?" Your voice soft, yet drained of energy. The male grabbed his shotgun, pointed it at your head and the girl behind him, also with a gun pointed at you.

"Who are you?" The male asked, softly removing the safety with the sound of a click.

"I come in peace. Please don't shoot me. I just need a way out."

#tlou #the last of us #the last of us spoiler #tlou spoiler #tlou e4 fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams the last of us #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic

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satancopilotsmytardis · 2 months

Note

I mean this in the most platonic way possible, but I think I might be in love with the way your brain works; your writing is honestly phenomenal! Your stories bridge the gaps cannon can’t, satisfy all of the what-ifs I didn’t even know I had, and I cannot thank you enough for the escape from reality they’ve provided for me over the past few years <3 I wish nothing but the best for you, and hope that everything goes your way!

Additionally, please ignore this part entirely if it is not something you wish to touch upon, but I noticed you mention in response to another ask that you’re ‘uninterested in Hawks’, and wondered if this meant he would no longer be a main/POV character in your fics going forward? Or if it was simply referring to him being included in the ‘catbi’ story? I entirely respect the decision either way, but if it was the former, I was curious if there was perhaps a reason why? (Your shigadabihawks fics were how I originally discovered you, so they hold a dear place in my heart! I adore your purely shigadabi fics just as much though!!) You, of course, owe zero explanations for anything, I really hope this question doesn’t come across as disrespectful in any way, I apologise if so!

Again, thankyou for everything you do! Leaving public comments on Ao3 makes my skin crawl with the mortifying ordeal of being known, so I am relieved to finally get to express my appreciation to you! (Only took me 2 entire years to find your tumblr,,)

Stay safe <3

— Ako

Thank you so much! I'm so glad that my writing has been a source of joy for you! I've been having a great time writing and I'm so grateful that people have been enjoying reading it!

As for being uninterested in Hawks, essentially that this boils down to it my not liking him anymore as a character. I've seen a few leaks of the upcoming arc, and how his character has been handled completely ruined him for me, making me not want anything to do with him in my writing. I have not wanted to write him at all which is why I have been avoiding working on any of my ongoing Shigadabihawks fics (the recently uploaded chapter of Shattered has been written for 7 months I just edited it). In fics outside of those ongoing series, I will be writing around Hawks as much as possible, much like I do with Kurogiri, who is another character I have no love for. Updates for those series will be extremely infrequent as I will only be working on them when I have the mental fortitude to force myself to write for Hawks. This is just where I stand on him as a character right now, but of course this is no judgment on people who like Hawks/Hawks ships! I'm grateful for the Shigadabihawks stories I wrote starting this journey and for the opportunities they gave to meet so many wonderful people! And I'm even more grateful for everyone who has stuck around even as I've moved away from that character!

I'm glad you found the blog, and congrats! It's only been up for a little under 1 year now, so you're not that late to the party! Thank you so much for the kind words and I hope you continue to like the nonsense I spout!

#tanco speaks #ask #asks

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jokeringcutio · 1 year

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Update: The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours

Now that I have finally continued, I have rewritten the outline, adjusted the estimated length of the tale from 12 chapters in total, to 20 chapters. [ For those of you who don't know what I am talking about, you can check the story here ] As those of you who have read and been following the tale online know, I have uploaded 9 chapters in the past. That was with the original outline. The tale ended with Arthur having turned into the Joker and successfully kidnapping you, dear reader, already pregnant with his child. Can't have you all left stranded there, can I? What happens next: Things become more gritty and violent. I have rewritten chapters 10 and 11, and have kept some parts of 12 aside to be used in the tale later on. I had a bit of difficulty finding the right vibe now that the location has changed (no longer in your comfortable home or at the job) and Arthur has become the Joker. I didn't want to lose the feeling of the past chapters, which were mundane and full of smut. In my first drafts, the chapters lost that feel. Not enough smut. Too much I wanted to say in one go. Didn't work. I eventually found back the vibe and the right plot bunny to keep the tale interesting. Between chapter 9 and 10, I have added an interlude (so basically, an extra chapter), describing how the reader is taken by Joker and his new followers to a secret hide-out. I am currently writing chapter 14. This means we have 10, 11, 12 and 13 all written out as a draft. These chapters contain scenes which include cunnilingus, smut, a new friend for our Reader, a rescue plan, plotting against the Joker, violence and maiming (not against our Reader), jealous Joker, visibly pregnant Reader (and Arthur/Joker being all touchy because he wants to feel the baby kick) and well, there's loads more to come! Keep following me for more progress on the tale, snippets, and tidbits about what is going to come next. I plan to write the entire story till the end before I will publish it.

In the meanwhile, if you like my writing, feel free to browse my masterlist. New tales, drabbles and headcanons appear regularly. Feel free to send in suggestions and prompts as well, though I might be slow in responding to them. Make sure to check out my account for recent updates, as I usually post in a European time frame and I notice that many of my posts are overlooked because of it (which is why I sometimes decide to post prompt fills on different sites as well such as on AO3 ). If you liked The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours and are into Dark Romance/being kidnapped by an older man (with gorgeous dark hair and mental issues rofl) I can recommend my Black Phone Fanfic The Chance to make a Change. This story is complete in draft (so you won't have to wait 2 years or more to know the ending), and is currently being uploaded. It has the same kind of vibe as TMWCTBY. If you want to stick to our Arthur Fleck/Joker then I have tons of little fills written about him, as well as plans for new longer fics. I still want to continue The Princess and The Clown, perhaps rework it. But if you want something short that is complete, can I recommend No Family Man? If you like long-haired men, villains and age gap fics, then I would like to point you at the many Arthur Harrow fills I have written (don't worry, you don't have to have seen the Moon Knight series or read the comics. I haven't either). I am currently working on an asylum patient Harrow x Reader fic as well. Now, to end this post, I have posted a gif that is fitting for The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours. It's not the gif that inspired the entire tale, but it is pretty meaningful to it. I think many readers will know why. Hope you are all having a wonderful day, Yours sincerely, JokeringCutio

#Arthur Fleck #TMWCTBY #Arthur Fleck Joker #Joker 2019 #Arthur Fleck x Reader #Arthur Fleck x You #Joker x reader #joker x you #reader insert #dark romance #Arthur x reader #Arthur joker #joker #joker 2019 fanfiction #writing progress #personal note

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andromedastarrs · 1 year

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Trained For Sin - Abby's Interlude

a/n: I just finished mapping out the series and omgggg hahaha this is gonna be such a doozy for anyone who's following along! Might consider uploading on ao3 if all turns out well!

Summary: After arriving on the shore, Abigail and Lev rest inside the Firefly's medical station. Abby can't sleep, so she stays up and decides to wander around at night to try and wear herself out.

Content Warnings: mentions of trauma.

Link To Master-list <3

wc: ~1.2 k

Resting inside of a medical center served as almost a new starting point for Abby. She was on her back, closing her eyes hoping to find comfort in the infinite darkness. The sounds of the outside world disturbed her peace however; tree branches scratching the window every few minutes, the dull buzzing from the heart rate monitors, the sound of Lev softly whimpering in his sleep…that specific noise made Abby sit up on the medical bed, turning her head up to check on Lev. Thankfully, he was sleeping soundly, cuddled up with the blankets the nurse had offered the both of them moments earlier before she had turned the lights off for the room. Abby sighed. She tried rubbing her arms softly to help soothe her thoughts, though the act barely worked. It was like her memories were replaying through her eyes as a movie, even when they were closed.

Well, at least she was clean.

She laid back on the bed, staring straight ahead towards the ceiling. Her eyes felt heavy, but she knew she wouldn’t feel calm enough to sleep, at least not for a while. So instead, she opted to walk around the island while thinking about the day’s events. She stood up quietly so as to not wake up the young boy, making her way swiftly through the sleek tiled floor of the medical center. As she walked, she remembered being on the boat and catching sight of the shoreline.

The feeling was indescribable, not only because she saw land, but because she saw people there. She had clearly made out the soldier uniforms in the distance, which worried her a little since she didn’t recall the group having uniforms when she was younger. Nonetheless, people in uniforms brought a sense of comfort, she assumed it was due to the fact that she was a soldier herself for a few years.

Unlike the shoreline however, the medical center seemed to have absolutely no signs of life.

The whole island is probably Firefly territory, so they wouldn’t really need any security around these premises anyway.

Still, she decided that she wanted to be safe rather than sorry. Before heading out, she scuffled to the left side of the center’s glass entrance door. She knew that direction would lead down into the quiet side of the island, where she wanted to go. She peeked her head through one of the glass panes, and tried her best to look in all directions for any night patrol. She knew she probably wouldn’t get in trouble if she were caught, but at this point it was in her instincts to avoid people with weapons when she had none of her own. After a few moments, she came to the conclusion that the coast was clear, so she opened the door and headed out down the paved roads. It was slightly windy out, and she could feel absolutely everything through the makeshift hospital gown they made her wear…really it was more like a stretched out T-Shirt, but again, at least it was clean.

Letting out a soft sigh of relief revealed a puff of smoke, which in turn made her slightly shiver. She continued walking, dragging her feet on the ground, still not being able to put her mind at a pause. The street had working lights, making the atmosphere warm and comforting, but she felt neither of these things. She ran her fingers through her arms, and felt one of her fresh scars from her last battle, making her wince slightly from the pain… and the memory.

The sight of the young woman breaking down in the water, her sobs tearing through Abby’s head- in that very moment Abby knew that none of it was worth it. The pain, the sacrifice. She lost everything over and over again, and at this point her life felt like a never-ending battle.

Abby looked up at the sky. After a few moments, her body gave into the pain. She whimpered quietly, knowing now that she was losing the small amount of control she thought she had in her life. She crossed her arms over her chest and let her quiet sobs fill the silent streets.

She continued walking down, hoping that maybe her heart pouring out like this would help ease the sounds of her memories. The wind made some palm trees move in the distance, making Abby turn her attention towards the shore, which she had apparently mindlessly walked towards while she was crying. She wiped her tears away with the rough palms of her hands, taking notice of a small figure in the distance. Once her sight was cleared, she stopped her sobbing completely. She recognized the uniform instantly, it was a soldier.

She looked around, but saw no other soldiers, causing her to just stand there and wonder what this one person was doing out on the beach alone so late at night. Upon a closer look, the figure seemed to be laying down, making panic start setting in.

Are they alright?

She let her arms fall, and stared at the ground for a few moments, contemplating on whether or not she should check on the soldier. On one hand, she wanted to make sure that they were alright, on the other, she knew that she would risk being caught wandering about, and she didn’t want to find out about the consequence system for the new base yet.

Her sense of morality ended up getting the better of her, making her slightly sprint through the sand, making her way towards the figure sprawled on the ground. She slowed her steps down before getting too close, cautiously making an effort to not make any noise near them. When she was about two steps away from the soldier, she made sure to stay absolutely silent. The soldier didn’t react to her presence, motivating her to get close enough to squat down and hover next to the soldier's body.

Just then, you let out a sleepy sigh through your nose, making Abby slightly fall back in surprise. After a few seconds of her being suspended in disbelief, she forced her eyes shut and furrowed her brows, cringing at her own action.

I’m still jumpy, fuck.

You were sleeping. Abby, now sitting on the sand beside you, relaxed a little. She let out a tiny scoff, and breathed out slowly.

“If you can sleep on the sand that comfortably, then I guess I really have nothing to worry about.” she mumbled, knowing that you wouldn’t hear her in your deep state of sleep.

She stood up, still staring down at you. She took notice of the way certain parts of your face were highlighted, your hair, your gloved hands…her eyes darted all around you, analyzing all of your body and features in the dim light. She only then realized that you were the soldier who slightly interrogated her and Lev when they arrived on shore.

She couldn’t help but keep her eyes glued on you, but in her head a tiny little nagging voice reminded her that she knew she couldn’t stay here. So with that in mind, Abby decided to just walk away. You were laying in a spot that was high enough on shore to not make her worried about you getting drifted away during the night, so she made her way towards the road. Still, she couldn’t help but realize while walking up the street and back to the med center that looking at you brought some sort of comfort that made the bad memories stop, even if it was just for a few minutes.

#abbyanderson #abby and lev #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby x reader #tlou 2 #abigail anderson #afab nonbinary reader #abby anderson x afab non binary reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson fic #tlou fanfiction #abby the last of us

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oh-katsuki · 2 years

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Where The Panther Killed The Stag - Chapter 2 (Hanma x Reader)

masterlist | ao3 | series masterlist

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Pairing: Hanma x Reader

Series Content Warnings: THIS SERIES IS A PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR AND INCLUDES THEMES OF: murder, violence, abuse, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, hard kinks, rumination, guilt, depersonalization, dub/noncon, organized crime, mind break, and other similar themes.

Summary: You're a good student at the top of your university class and the vice president of your student-led club. A shiny toy on the top shelf of your social circle. Hanma likes toys he can break. Slowly but surely, you begin to spiral into a twisted situation that is entirely out of your control, putting your life and the lives of the people around you at stake.

Or, Hanma takes an interest in the University of Tokyo's resident good girl.

Chapter Title: Infection Of The Highest Caliber

Chapter Content Warnings: fem!reader, dub/noncon, loss of virginity, fingering, rough sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, implications of violence, threats, erratic / unpredictable behavior, coercion, slight fear play, blood, praise, slight degradation, sir kink, slight choking

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: I lied about uploading twice a week. i think im gonna do every other day or every two days for at least the first few chapters. or i might just do it ao3 style and upload whenever my heart desires lol. also im nervous about this series... as in i upload and immediately am anxious for several hours. i think its because ive been working on it for a while so the writing in the earlier chapters doesn’t reflect where I am as a writer now. oh well, enjoy this chapter! heed the warnings please!

The next week rolls around with little reprieve from the growing paranoia you’re experiencing. It’s almost neurotic, the way you’ve been watching your back, certain that someone is following you. By the time you arrive at your council meeting, you swear that your hair is standing on end.

But you’re flooded with relief when you see Suzuki seated in his usual spot, teeth intact. He’s bruised up, bottom lip busted and his delicate cheeks bruised and growing yellow. They must have waited for him last week. A shiver runs down your spine thinking that they could have seen you walking home. You aren’t careful enough.

“Suzuki,” you start, “are you okay?”

It’s a vague question but when he nods, you understand. He must have gotten the money to him, or at least enough to stave them off. You swallow thick, eyes drifting down to the bruises on his face and you wonder if they were left by sin or by punishment.

Tension is thick in the air as Hasegawa starts the meeting, clearing his throat in the way men with power do. He doesn’t command a room as well as Hanma does. That’s what you’re thinking as he’s talking and it’s making you insane. You’re bored hearing him talk, despite the delicate cadence of his words and your previous fascination with him. A week spent looking into perhaps the most dangerous man you’ve ever encountered and you’ve the nerve to sit here bored.

You remind yourself what all this is for, your silence, staying away from people like Hanma, not that you could ever find him again. You know from your research that he won’t be found unless he wants to be. Your future is everything to you, one tall man with tattooed hands won’t ruin it. You won’t let a panther among deer ruin your shot at your dream life. It’s what you’ve worked for all these years.

Or that’s what you tell yourself. You really should have known that he’d have you in his web if he wanted. You shouldn’t be surprised by the car that pulls up next to you on your walk home or the frighteningly handsome man inside who sits against sleek black leather seats. That familiar deadpan is set on you again as the heavily tinted window is rolled down, the glass humming with electricity as it reveals him.

And then Hanma Shuji says your name despite you never having told it to him.

You stare at him, eyes wide as he takes in your appearance. The clean-cut pants, sweater, tote bag filled with books and a laptop. Such a goody goody. Hanma wants to eat you alive and under his gaze, you feel yourself shrink, feel the way your fingers grip the phone in your right hand tighter. All while he watches you. No, it isn’t watching, it’s appraising. Hanma’s looking at merchandise.

“Get in the car.” He speaks, that rich baritone invading your ears. You feel the wall on the other side of the sidewalk bump your back, not realizing that you had been stepping away from the car.

“Why?” It’s an automatic response, a scared one.

Hanma rolls his eyes before setting them back on you and then he does something that shocks you further. You swear that there’s a smile on his lips. A sadistic one, but a smile nonetheless. “We’re asking questions now?”

You swallow thick, tiptoeing, choosing your words carefully. “I really can’t. I’ve got studying to do. Thank you for the invitation, sir.”

It’s too formal, but the honorific slips from your tongue easily. It fits him.

Hanma can see you shaking, the way your fingers tremble, the innocent look in your eyes. He likes that you’re so polite, such a pretty pushover. And all for him? Isn’t he the lucky one.

“Taking mommy’s advice and not going out with strangers?” Hanma asks. He seems to ask a lot of questions. “But I’ve got a dress for you and everything. It’s your size.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. It’s your size? Something in you sings, there’s an animal in your chest purring at the thought. The thought that you weren’t the only one thinking. That you’ve lived in his mind for this past week. It’s frightening and all too enticing.

“No, thank you.” You say it a little firmer, with more conviction. Hanma looks back inside of the car, the interior dimmed by the heavily tinted windows. He rolls his eyes and you can see the flash of white before they come to rest to whoever sits in the driver’s seat. You can’t see the driver from where you are, but Hanma seems to give him a look.

“We could do this all day but y’know, I really don’t think you want to see me bored. So get in the car, doll. I won’t ask again.” He folds his hands across his lap, staring at you, through you to the brick behind.

You’re a good girl. You’ve always been a good girl and it’s moments like these that you curse that part of yourself. The part of yourself that needs to be liked, to be praised. Because when Hanma Shuji tells you to get in the car, when he calls you a doll and threatens you so sweetly, you find yourself sliding in next to him, slick collecting between your legs shamefully as the leather hits the back of your thighs.

Hanma nods to the driver, reaching over you and shutting the door. His car smells like cedar, like leather and cologne. It’s clean, nearly untouched, and you find that the most unsettling thing of all is that, beneath the smell of his cologne, you can smell blood.

—

The dress Hanma bought for you could hardly be called a dress at all. It’s a little number, a small, shiny red dress with spaghetti straps. It’s made of silk and the fabric slips expensively over your body when you move. He’s right, it is your size. It hugs your curves perfectly and you’re beginning to feel like you really are a doll, brought along under threat and dressed up pretty.

Even now, in his car again as you drive to a place he hasn’t disclosed to you, you wonder how the fuck you ended up here. Your eyes glance down to the bag of clothes on the floor of the car, your belongings from class and the outfit you wore earlier in the day. Whatever attitude you seem to have beside him, your mind is different, confused, frightened, screaming profanities that your peers couldn’t even imagine would come out of your mouth. And beside you, Hanma is still, his chin resting on his hand as he stares out of the car window.

“How did you know my name?” You find the courage to ask.

“Friends.” He offers a one-word response, not sparing you a second glance until you inhale a sharp and frightened breath. “You worried I’m gonna hurt you?”

You shift in the seat, “duh.”

“Relax. It’s just some fun.”

“Why?”

Hanma’s eyes dart over to you. “Why, why, why. You sure ask a lot of fucking questions.”

You’re startled by the emotion in his voice, the way his expression curls up into something nasty as he mocks you as if your reaction isn’t perfectly normal. You’re beginning to think that Hanma has no concept of what normal is.

“You looked interesting.” He finishes his statement, eyes falling deadpan again as they drift over you.

You wouldn’t call whatever this is interest, but something about being praised by him satisfies you, if you could even call it that. You briefly register that this isn’t how someone should be treating you, but garnering the interest of someone like Hanma feels like an achievement of some sort and bite your bottom lip to hold your tongue.

You quickly learn that Hanma’s emotions are as erratic and unpredictable as his actions. When you arrive at the club, he tosses an affectionate arm over your shoulder, striding past the bouncers and through the crowded club to a table in an adjacent room. People stare as you pass. They stare at you when he walks you past them, bored eyes sparing the room little more than a glance as he brings you to your destination. It’s obvious that they’re afraid of him, but also of you.

He sits you down in a booth in the far corner of the club, separated from the rest of the room by a red velvet rope that matches the upholstery. One moment, Hanma is calm and cold and the next, he’s shouting. Through the evening, there is always someone to be upset with, always something to piss him off, always something less than satisfactory. You find yourself struggling to please him, sitting close, letting his broad hand roam up and down your thigh.

You don’t drink. You don’t like the way being drunk makes you feel. But when Hanma pushes a glass in front of you, you sip it. When he slips his hand up your dress to pinch the fat of your thighs, you widen your legs. When he asks you to sit pretty and wait, you do. Because Hanma is someone that you want to give what he wants. Because despite the fear creeping in your veins, you want him.

The lights in the club are dark, pulsing with each beat of the upbeat music. They flash across his features, illuminating the dull look in his eyes and moving across the hard edges of his face. It smells like sweat and liquor. Your shoes stick to the floor when you move them and it would bother you if you weren’t so hyper aware of the man next to you and the heat radiating off of him. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way bodies mingle on the dance floor, shapeless in the lights as they blend and shift until they are unrecognizable and abstract shapes glittering like gold under the strobes.

Hanma is reclined in the booth beside you, hands splayed over the top of the red leather that you’re matching so nicely. His fingers drum across the surface lightly with the music, long, vascular hands ghosting over the decor before his arm sinks down around your shoulder.

It’s a possessive grip, languid in movement, and in this position his long arm dwarfs you. You don’t miss the way he looks at anyone greedy enough to check you out, fingers running a circle around the ball of your shoulder as they realize their mistake. And it makes you feel good. Being desired, being possessed by someone other than yourself. As dangerous as this is, as strange as this situation is, you find Hanma charming. You find his hair-trigger sexy because right now you’re on the good side of it, safe under his arm while he frighteningly threatens another man.

“You’re not the type for clubs.” Hanma speaks, bending low by your ear. It’s not a question, but a statement rather, like he already knows.

You shake your head in response, turning to look at him. Over his shoulder you can see the entry way to a separate room, away from the pounding of the bass and the multi-color strobes. Despite the situation, the bags of drugs you can see being run from this room to the next, the guns in men’s belts that you have no idea how they got, you feel somewhat safe with him. Well, not safe per say, but far safer than you would be watching this from the outside. And Hanma loves that he can see that on your face.

He loves your uncertainty, the way you stick to his side like a good girl because when you’re here, he’s the only thing you’re somewhat familiar with. Hanma has a particular adoration for girls like you. The ones that break so easily. The ones that break forever.

He lets his gaze roam slowly down your figure, to where your thighs spill out of the sinfully small red dress he’d bought you. You match the booth like an accessory, like you’ve been bought. Hanma admires the way your unpolished fingers cup the drink he’d bought you in your lap, hardly touched, ice melting slowly in the glass. It clinks and shifts, sliding against its self and spinning with even the slightest movement.

He brings his fingers to the underside of it, knuckles grazing your upper thigh before he pushes it up delicately to your lips, all while maintaining your gaze as if he’s the fucking sun. Hanma pushes the rim to your slightly parted lips and his body hums when you let him tilt it back. Watching you like you’re an experiment, something fascinating and interesting.

The alcohol burns your throat. You’re not used to it and you’re sure that this drink is probably just straight vodka. But you let him tip it down your throat and you let him watch you while you do as you’re instructed.

Hanma hums, low in his throat as he takes the glass from you and sets it onto the table. Then, he leans in and puts his lips to yours in an open-mouth kiss. It’s aggressive and wet, his tongue dipping into your mouth and exploring. You part your lips for him, eyes fluttering shut because Hanma’s mouth is hot and his tongue is soft as it swipes across yours.

You’d be embarrassed to be kissed like this in front of so many people, but the alcohol is soaring through your veins and the kiss only makes you feel more separate from the situation. Even here, in your own body, you are an outsider.

Hanma’s lips move against yours, open-mouthed before he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites hard. You whine against him. It hurts, his teeth on the soft flesh of your bottom lip, but you’re squeezing your thighs together at the difference. The difference between how soft his tongue is in your mouth and the blood you’re sure he’s just drawn from your bottom lip. You can taste copper as he kisses you, gliding his tongue along the cut on your bottom lip. He shares with you, coaxing his tongue against yours as the metallic taste spreads through your mouth.

Hanma pulls away after a moment, eyes open as he looks over you with a bored expression, gaze flicking down momentarily to where you’ve tangled your fingers into his dress shirt.

“This is expensive.” He comments, pulling your hands from his chest and smoothing down the wrinkles. “If you want to ruin my clothes, you should at least do it at my place.”

Hanma tilts his head back and despite the fact that it sounded like an invitation, you know it wasn’t. In the short time you’ve known him, you’ve learned that Hanma doesn’t make requests because Hanma gets everything he wants. What makes you more nervous still is this growing desire to be that, to please him. You don’t think you could say no if you wanted to.

Alarm bells glare in your head as he stands and guides you from the club, the hand that reads “sin” pressed flush against your lower back, urging you forward with him. You should be getting home. You have work, club activities, organizational duties to complete, but your mind is foggy and your breath feels too loose to keep yourself together. Slowly, you unravel like string. All you can think about is the hand on your back, the way his long fingers would feel pressed up inside of you.

You’ve been touched before but never in a context like this, never in what’s shaping up to be something emotionless and filthy. You want to save yourself, to a degree, for someone you love. Hanma must know that you don’t have much experience because in the car, he eyes you from where he sits.

You’d expect the situation to be sobering because you’re afraid, but instead looking at him makes you feel drunker, makes you sink deeper into this unfamiliar intoxication that is Hanma Shuji.

Hanma doesn’t need to wonder what you’re thinking about. He already knows. You’re thinking about his hands, if his cock matches his height, if it’s going to hurt when he puts it in and if he’s going to hurt you after. He deals a lot with girls like you. The nice ones he finds in shops or on odd jobs. Innocent girls who want to please, who want to be something more than themselves for the sake of someone else. He loves the martyr type. So he lets you believe that you’re being a martyr. Hanma plans to let you think you’re making a difference even when he knows that you’re not. He’s not someone who can change and it’s fun to break things that don’t belong to him.

He staves off boredom with girls like you. That’s really all you’re good for. After all, someone who can’t think for themselves is nothing more than a dog anyway.

—

Hanma lives in the northwest portion of Minato Ward, in Aoyama, the wealthiest part of the city where he owns a penthouse overlooking the attractive neighborhood. It makes sense when you think about it. A man with a price on his head living in one of the safest areas, in a tower equipped with security and on the top floor.

His apartment is stale. That’s how you’d describe it. It’s full of sleek furniture clearly not designed for comfort and modern art that lacks feeling but no doubt has a high price tag. The floor plan is open with gray wood floors. It looks like it’s been pasted from a high fashion magazine and the space feels too clean to have been lived in. Against the bright interior, he looks like a devil, dark plastered against sterile whites and muted grays.

“Get out.” He commands, and behind you, you hear someone shuffle out of the apartment as the door clicks behind them. You’d almost forgotten that Hanma was accompanied by guards, high up on Tokyo’s underground food chain. You suddenly want to go home.

“Well, uhm-” You start, hooking your fingers together in front of your body. “Thank you for tonight but- I really should get home.”

Hanma doesn’t look at you while you speak, instead walking to the bar and pouring a glass of whiskey, liquid gold against a pristine glass. You think it’s for him until he walks over to you and hands it to you.

“Drink.”

“I don’t think I should.” You respond, holding it, fiddling with the dips in it.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to refuse a drink?” He muses, walking to the sleek black couch and sitting down. You follow him, caught in his gravitational pull, standing near him but not sitting because he hasn’t invited you to.

The last thing you want to be is rude. You’ve never been rude, not intentionally, so you nod, taking a small sip of the drink. You hate the taste of whiskey but all you can think of right now is how stupid you are for not accepting.

Hanma watches you take a sip, pleased again with your malleability before he reaches his hands out for your hips, pulling you between his legs.

“You’re pretty.” He says, low-lidded eyes looking over your figure.

You’re shocked by the praise. It’s the first real compliment he’s given you all night and despite yourself, despite the thrumming of your heart against your ribs, you melt a little.

“I like pretty things.” Hanma runs a hand over your cheek, stroking along the curve of it before running two slender fingers down along your jugular. “Red looks good on you.”

His fingers close around your throat and you suck in a sharp breath, screwing your eyes shut. This is a man who has killed. You wonder if the fingers around your throat now have ever done this to someone else. If they’ve ever closed around someone’s throat so tightly that the light fades from their eyes.

“Thank you…” You squeak out.

“Are you afraid?” He draws you closer by the neck, the hand on your hip giving a firm squeeze.

When you nod slowly, he hums his approval, bringing his lips to yours. They move against you languidly, tongue delving into your mouth like he’s claiming it, mouth hot and greedy. You let him kiss you, swaying slightly until he pulls you into his lap, taking the glass and setting it on the coffee table in one swift movement.

Hanma’s hand stays seated on your throat, your center pushed against his hips. He strokes the soft skin of your neck with his digits when he kisses you and each drag of his finger against your pulse point makes you feel like you’re choking, air catching in your lungs. He exhales languidly against your mouth, each movement calculated, meant to scare you.

As he guides your back to the couch, the tension feels like a chord about to snap. You want him, you do, but you also want to run. Your legs feel frozen as he lays down between them, covering you with his body that feels larger than life. Against your stomach, you can feel the hard ridge of his cock and your blood thrums with nerves you never even knew you had.

You’re dancing along a wire. You can feel it as he kisses down your neck where his hand used to be, biting harshly at the flesh, warning you against doing things he doesn’t like. You’re meant to just sit pretty for him, let him work you open. That’s what’s going to make him happy.

When Hanma drags his teeth harshly across your collarbone, you yelp and he chuckles into your skin. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh and it’s intoxicating, as frightening as it is. It means that you’ve done something he likes and you’re obsessed with the feeling of it.

He’s surprisingly gentle but, beneath it all, you can feel his hair-trigger. The paper-thin string is taught between your legs, caught between pleasure and punishment as his fingers trail under your dress and up your thigh.

He’s taunting you, gauging your reactions. You can’t decide if you want this. You can’t decide if you want whatever you’re spiraling towards but when his fingers come into contact with your clit and he closes his eyes at the feeling, you know you can’t turn back. This game he’s playing—and it is a game—is one you’re becoming more invested in by the moment.

It really isn’t until his fingers are curling inside of you, long and slender, that you realize what he is. Hanma is a predator, a panther with sharp eyes, and you’re caught in his jaw. But more so, as he works you open helplessly on his fingers, you realize that he’s the type of person who makes you want to end up as prey.

“You’re so tight down here, doll.” Hanma purrs. His voice is thick and deep and full of pleasure. For the normally cold man, the tone switch is disorienting. “You save yourself just for me?”

You don’t answer, instead gasping when he crooks his fingers up harshly. “H-Hanma-”

He stops, pulling himself from you. The faint trace of a smile falls from his lips, another sudden switch. You realized you’ve tripped the trigger. “Using my name now?”

Hanma lines his cock up with your entrance and you eye it, eyes wide. It’s long and slightly curved, tan and flush at the head with two angry veins running up it. He smears your essence over it, not watching what he’s doing, where’s he’s putting it as he feels around for the ring of your cunt.

“We’re familiar enough now that you can use my name, are we?” His voice is cruel, elated with the slightest uptick of anger. “If we’re so fucking close, let’s get a little closer.”

You put your hands against his chest, pressing back because you can feel what’s coming. “H-Hanma wait- wait-”

“There’s that fucking name again.” He thrusts into you and you gasp, fingernails digging into his shirt, ruining it like he promised you would. He looks angry, staring down at you with a nasty scowl on his face. “Show some fucking respect, eh? I’m not playing around here.”

“It hurts!” You cry out, back arching up at the fill.

“Yeah?” He says. “Does it hurt, doll? Got some fuckin’ nerve calling me by my name. Thought you were a good girl?”

“I am! I am!” You plead as he drags his cock along your walls and pushes back in with a harsh flick of his hips.

“Then what the fuck do good girls call me?” He spits down at you, pistoning his hips into you. “Only good girls deserve to feel good. Casual sluts get used like one.”

“Sir!” You say, tears brimming in your eyes. “Good girls call you sir!”

You feel Hanma’s cock twitch in you. He wants so badly to put you in your place, to ruin you now. He wants to take the knife from his pocket and drive the point home by pressing it to your neck, watch those pretty eyes well up even more than they already are. But if he breaks you too soon, you won’t break for him.

He pushes his hips flush against yours, stilling as he holds them there forcefully. “That’s right. And what are you gonna be?”

“Your good girl.” You respond, wary eyes finding him.

You need something to ground yourself with. You need something to tether you to earth and right now, you’re finding that he’s the only thing. The sterile decoration in the room around you offers you no comfort so you turn to the next living thing to validate you.

Hanma breaks out in an adoring smile. It reaches his eyes and sits wide across his face before he laughs.

“Oh, you’re so good.” He lowers his mouth to yours, pulling his hips back slowly and this time you can register the way he hits the sweet spot inside of you. “You’re my good girl now, right? Never going to let you go. So fucking good for me.”

You soak up his praise like a flower, like it’s a reprieve from everything else. When he likes you, when he wants you, you’re safe. Fear still hums in your veins but you pull him closer, for safety, to stay protected by walking the tightrope with this predator.

You moan your response, lost in it, the alcohol making your head fuzzy. You don’t have the mind to think about how fast this seems to be moving, about his words of possession and the adoration he regards you with so early into your tryst.

It’s a long while before he lets you go. A long while before he’s finally decided that he’s had his fill of your cunt and the loss makes you sad in a fucked up, perverse way. You’re half asleep by the time he’s finished, too fucked out to register that he’s cum inside of you with a deep groan, with threatening praises in your ear.

There is the distinct feeling that this is the cut that will cause the infection. You can feel the way it begins to invade your blood. It’s a new, unrecognizable part of yourself, brought about through your blood. Infection of the highest caliber.

---

The next morning, you wake up in his bed, or at least what you think is his bed. You’re clean and washed, a favor you didn’t think he would do you. His bedroom is as stale as his living room, a black duvet comforter covering your body. The bed beside you is empty and as you sit up, your head pounds with the hangover. You shift your body to move and your legs ache, body screaming for rest, for someone to massage the creak in your muscles away.

You let yourself think stupidly that he’s done this because he liked something about you last night. And you’re not entirely wrong. It’s never been this easy that he’s gotten a virgin to submit like that, but you’re also a fucking idiot to imagine that it makes you special. Still, you replay the words in your head, that he’ll never let you go, and though it sets a deep fear in your lungs, you also sing at the praise.

When you pad into the kitchen on shaky legs, unfamiliar with the layout of the apartment, he’s reclined on the couch, arm thrown over the back of it. His tattooed hand reading “punishment” lays idly along the cushion and in his other hand, he holds a newspaper. It’s oddly domestic and he tosses you one single sideways glance before removing his hand from the back of the couch and tossing a white and purple package to the end closest to you.

“Take this.” You walk over to the package, turning it over in your hand. You recognize the brand, Plan B. “I don’t need you getting fucking pregnant on me.”

You mumble your thank you, walking to the kitchen. As instructed, you take the pill and Hanma hums his approval.

“What are we doing today?” You ask, immediately regretting it when his eyes shift to you.

“You’re going home.” He responds cooly.

It should make you relieved to not have to stay here any longer with a man who’s known for being cruel, but something in your stomach drops. So he’s done with you? Bored with you already?

You don’t respond, in fact, neither of you says much to each other on the ride home. Instead, Hanma remains eerily quiet, uninterested in you once again. You watch out the window as the scenery passes, a bit dazed, but still registering as it begins to get more familiar. Beside you, Hanma does the same, cheek against his hand. He looks a bit like a child like this, spoiled rotten and unhappy with his new toy. It makes your stomach turn.

As the sleek black car pulls up in front of your apartment building, despite the fact that you haven’t told him your address, you find fear creeping back into your veins. He could kill you now. He could take you out to avoid any of this getting to the authorities, to avoid exposing where he lives, who he works with, what clubs he frequents, though you suppose the authorities already know. The problem isn’t not being able to find him, it’s that he covers himself so well. He could do the same to you.

You move to get out of the car but he stops you, a hand around your wrist. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir.” You respond, chest tightening.

“Hm.” He says, letting go and watching as you walk around the other side of the car to the sidewalk, dress from the night before still wrapped around your figure. Hanma rolls down the window, leaning out of it onto his arm. “Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I’ll fucking kill you. So be good, okay?”

You wonder how he can say such frightening things so easily, how he can look bored when he’s just pressed a metaphorical gun to your head.

“Yes, sir.” For some reason, it’s hard to find the words when you’re around Hanma. You think that when it comes to him, there is very little to say.

“Atta girl.” As he rolls up the window, you hear him tell the chauffeur to drive before he pulls off.

You watch him pull away before turning to walk back to your quaint apartment. You don’t have the mind to ponder if you were just kidnapped, if it still counts even if he took you home after. Does a death threat mean anything if you plan to take it to the grave? Did that really happen?

Even as you let yourself into your apartment, you’re not worrying about yourself. You’re home and safe, the bruises will fade. All you can think of now is whether or not he got bored of you. God, you hope he hasn’t already grown bored of you.

#hanma x reader #hanma x reader smut #hanma shuji x reader smut #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji smut #hanma smut #tw: dark content #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: praise #tw: loss of virginity #[ 📕 – writing ]#tw: blood #tw: coercion #tw: drugs/alcohol

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elvisabutler · 1 year

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quick update that is just warning y'all. i'm probably going to do an overhaul of my masterlist. partially to replace the links- in the case of kinktober and partially to i think- make it more manageable to read. this does mean i'm splitting my elvis and austin stuff into their own masterlists and what have you while just linking them to the main list. basically i'm trying to make it so y'all aren't scrolling twenty million years to get to my fics.

this does also mean i might do the little "hey this is what i just updated link" i've seen some people do but we'll see to be quite honest. i've just realized that bless my poor masterlist's soul but she's a bit unwieldy.

and beyond that, i'm in the process of actually uploading all of kinktober up on ao3 among other things. what i've realized it multiple chapter things/verses are gonna take a little bit longer to upload when i put them all in the same fic versus a series situation. because i can't just import them over like i do with one shots. but have no fear, they'll all get there eventually.

also also. period anon, i see you and know that i apologize for the potential rancid horny turn i took with this fic. but i too am having a grand old time with that time of the month. especially since it came early.

#*admin notes #*admin #*update #*organization

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willthelies · 4 months

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Fic update schedule (Byler and Hilson)

I'm pretty behind on most of my AO3 fics at the moment. And I want to get back into writing but only writing what I want to which is not always the same week to week. I'm adjusting my schedule a bit to give myself a bit more breathing room. The important thing for me when it comes to byler fics is to get a lot of Will and Mike POV chapters out for their respective birthdays. For hilson I want to get my one winter fic done in about a little over month. So, provisional schedule and rambling under the cut:

February 16

Vampires Within (hilson vampire blizzard fic, Werewolves Within AU): I said this would be once a week, but I definitely lied. I hope to do once a month but with multiple chapters each time, maybe about half the fic even. I might start another Hilson fic in the second half of the month.

February 22

Nobody is ever missing (lesbyler Succession crossover): This one I'm doing pretty well on a monthly schedule for. I'll probably stick to doing one chapter per episode of Succession, which means Mischa and Willa might not meet again for a few more chapters.

March 22 or later:

Demodog Store (bywheelclair Unicorn Store AU): I think giving myself a little more time until this next chapter should allow me to make it a longer one to start really moving the plot forward. I'll definitely have it out by Will's birthday.

Exactly who I'm supposed to be (Will prepares to fight Vecna, does shrooms and tells a lie for every letter of the alphabet): I'm hoping to have this fic revised (some scenes and chapters expanded, nothing cut) by Will's birthday, with the next new chapter out by Mike's birthday at the latest. After that chapters will probably be monthly.

The Brotherhood of the Traveling Pants (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants AU for the original Party): I should have put this on hiatus since I have no motivation for it right now. It's just more of a summer fic. I reached the midpoint of Mike's and Will's stories but am not quite there for Lucas or Dustin's. I'm thinking I'll release Dustin's next chapter (which is related to the Creel House) on March 24th, release Mike's on his birthday, then try to keep updating once every week or two until it's done.

Byler Parasite AU series: my third installment in this series will have more Argyle, though the main characters are still Jonathan, Will and Mike. I might wait until I'm done with the whole fic and then upload the whole thing on Will or Mike's birthday. If I don't get as much done, I'll just start it then.

Let's start a new Party, you and me (byler Riverdale crossover): Started for Bylerween, ended up putting on hiatus until next Halloween. Have so little of it written that idk if I should have left it up there, but I do have excerpts of scenes from later on in the story and if I expand on some of those excerpts, I might post them as miwips before then.

#byler fanfiction #hilson fanfiction #ao3 writer

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lincolndjarin · 10 months

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Best Kept Secret

chapter eight : solar markets (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 5.3k

summary : the mandalorian takes reader on a day trip

warnings, etc. : language, reader thinks about sex like a little bit

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

It’s nice to wake up excited again.

You wish you could say that it happened more often but hopefully it will from now on. It’s going to be your first time leaving the castle grounds since you got here. You’ve spent the last four weeks cooped up and you couldn’t be more thrilled to finally get to see something new.

As much as you love the library it can be suffocating to spend every single day between those four walls.

So you summon Elaine and Lysa as quickly as possible, grinning as you stand in the mirror until you notice the faint blooms of purple on your waist.

Shit.

You have to rush to find undergarments that will cover them and you’re barely pulling them over your hips as the door swings open.

“Good morning ma’am.” Elaine smiles at you as she grabs a brush, going to stand behind you to comb out the knots in your hair. She snaps her fingers sharply and points to the closet signaling for Lysa to fetch you a gown.

“Good morning Elaine.” You give her a smile, “Good morning Lysa!” You say slightly louder as you watch in the mirror as she brings out a flowy lilac gown. “I’m going out today girls.” You turn to smile at both of them.

“Is that so ma’am? Where are you going?” Elaine speaks as she pulls the dress over your head and begins lacing up the corset.

“The Mandalorian is accompanying me to the markets in the city today.” You try to hold back a bit of the enthusiasm in your voice.

“Mhmm. That sounds wonderful ma’am.” Her head turns. “Go get her a cloak, and then go find Leodall to give her some credits.”

“Of course.” In a rush Lysa threw a light gray cloak onto the bed and darted out of the room. Elaine dressed you in near silence after that, softly humming a song to herself every once in a while as you let her straighten the cloak over your shoulders.

It gives you time to think.

Are things going to be different now? It would be hard to go back to how things were at this point, but you don’t want to have to act like strangers again. You’ve agreed to keep having sex at the very least which is a huge relief, but you also want to make sure that you can still talk to him. Just act normal. Act like nothing is different.

She’s quick with your makeup, doing some simple little accents around your eyes and letting your hair fall around your face in a way she typically doesn’t.

“Even though you haven’t made many public appearances it will be best to keep your face mostly hidden my lady.” She adjusts the hood slightly over your hair to shield the top of your head. You nod slowly.

“Is there a bag I can take?” Is all you have to say in response, you aren’t particularly worried about any threats in the city. After all, you have Mando. Who, now that you’re thinking about it, you have never seen in action. Sure he’s big and imposing but it’s still troubling to think that he might be all talk. He does love to talk. You’ll be fine. He wouldn’t take you into the city if he couldn’t protect you.

Probably.

Elaine throws a white satchel over your shoulders and takes a step back to admire her work before nodding.

“If you’re ready I’m sure he’s waiting for you.” She gives you a grin before leaving. You take a good look at yourself in the mirror, Elaine really does work wonders. You honestly aren’t sure how she does it, it’s not like you’re unattractive by any means but you don’t think you were this alluring back on Hoth.

Is it okay to hope that he notices? That doesn’t break any rules right?

You don’t have long to wonder because Leodall is bursting into the room holding a small leather coin purse. Holding it out to you.

“I wish you had given me more warning princess… this was what I was able to put together on such short notice.” He’s seemingly trying to catch his breath still as you take the purse and open it, your eyes going wide. You were royalty back on Hoth but clearly not this royal. There’s more credits than you could possibly know what to do with inside.

“A-are you sure?” You manage to stammer out, you’re nervous just holding them.

“I mean if you’d like I can see if I can make it down to the vaults but it will take me much longer to get more, how much do-” You cut him off.

“Nevermind Leo. Thank you.” You give him a reassuring smile as you put the credits in your bag and dismiss him with a nod. You slip on a pair of riding boots before exiting the room yourself.

He looks different.

Scarier.

You clearly hadn’t been getting the full Mandalorian before because now there’s somehow more attachments. Ammunition. He’s shinier if that was somehow possible, like he polished his armor for this outing and he’s got a brown canvas bag thrown over his shoulder.

He looks like a proper killer.

Why does that send a rush of heat between your legs?

“Good morning, princess.” He gives you a curt nod.

So far so good.

“Good morning Mando. You look… nice.” You tilt your head slightly, getting a real eyeful of him before meeting his visor.

Okay this is a little more difficult than you thought it was going to be.

Of course it’s harder than you thought it’d be to have a conversation with someone you’ve had impulse hate sex with.

You just want things to be normal. Just friends. You can do this, this is what you wanted so you need to make it work, you will make it work.

“Are you ready?”

“Always.” He turns on his heel to start making his way down the hall and you swiftly follow.

“Will we be walking there?” You can’t stop smiling at the prospect of finally actually seeing other people.

“It’s a bit far for that. We’ll take a speeder.”

“Like a bike?” You can’t hide the excitement in your voice, as he lets out a low chuckle.

“No princess. I don’t think it would be proper for me to take you into the city on a speeder bike. We’ll be taking a landspeeder.” You try to hide your disappointment as he leads you through the twisting halls until you finally reach the familiar front gates. You’d only ever gone in through them when you arrived all those weeks ago. When you went to the garden you had taken back exits. Mando is already talking to a droid near the gate and you can’t catch what he’s saying but he comes back with two silver bands, holding one out to you. “Palace rules, if you’re leaving the grounds you’ve gotta wear it.” He easily clips his on as you fumble with the clasp on yours.

“What are they for?” You can’t help but bite your lip as you try to get the damn thing on before finally he takes your wrist and does it for you.

“Trackers.” He says it like he doesn’t like the taste of the word in his mouth but you choose to ignore it as he walks through the gate, scanning the bracelet as he does so, you follow his lead and then you’re outside. A light blue landspeeder is waiting for the two of you and you take his hand as he helps you get into the back seat before pulling himself up next to you. The driver nervously turns to stare at him but says nothing as he turns back around. “Solar Markets.” Is all Mando has to say in that stern, bounty hunter tone before you’re flying.

✩

It’s annoyingly beautiful.

You’d convinced yourself that Naboo was a place you had been condemned to but it’s stunning. It’s greener than you’d realized and you swear you hear Mando laugh at the awestruck look on your face.

He looks comfortable like this, leaning back, his arms spread out across the back of the seat. You must look like an over eager child the way your eyes keep darting around. You almost want to ask if you can keep riding around for a bit when the speeder stops.

Almost.

But the markets are much more enticing.

Alive and buzzing with people, there’s probably more people just on this street than there were in your entire colony back home. Mando helps you out of the speeder by lifting you up by your waist and once you’re on the ground you pull your hood back up. He leans down to whisper to you.

“No one is going to recognize you, it’s okay.” Is he smiling? It sounds like he’s smiling. You let the hood fall and run your fingers through your hair to try and brush the wind out of it. He holds his arm out and you briskly take it, clutching yourself close to him as he starts walking. It’s almost like a small path through the crowds clears whenever you walk and you immediately regret letting your hood down until you realize it’s not for you.

They’re scared of him.

People get quiet when you walk near them, they whisper, eyes start darting around frantically.

“I didn’t realize you had a reputation…” You mumble, leaning closer to him.

“Not me princess, my people in general. Don’t worry about it, it just means no one is going to mess with you.” He lets out a chuckle as he slows his pace.

“What are they saying about you?” You look warily around the crowds, holding on to Mando’s arm a little tighter.

He fidgets with something on his gauntlet and is silent for a few minutes as you walk before he fidgets with it again.

“Just your usual Mandaloian panic, mostly people worried about you.”

“Me?” You can’t help it when your voice goes up a pitch. It makes him chuckle softly.

“Some people are worried you're my prisoner.”

“Why would people think that?” You can’t help but look up at him in confusion.

“Usually we travel alone, or with other Mandalorians. Or people don’t see us at all, some people are just concerned that I’m holding you captive.” Why does he sound like he’s enjoying that fact?

“Well that’s annoying.” You scoff.

“So, what are we shopping for today?” He tilts the helmet down to look at you as you take in the dozens upon dozens of stands. It’s entirely possible that they will have quite literally anything you could ask for.

“I didn’t actually have anything in mind… can we just look around?”

“Of course.” Okay, he’s definitely smiling.

The two of you arm in arm walk through the first street of stalls. Nothing in particular catches your eye, it mostly seems like antiques and other such things, it must take well over an hour though and as he turns you down the next street you're hit with a wave of different smells as you start your trek through what you figure is the food stands. Your stomach lets out a small grumble since you skipped breakfast for this.

“Are you hungry? Can you eat if no one is looking?” You say softly, turning towards him.

“Someone is always looking. I’ll eat when we get back.”

You can’t help but frown. It passes quickly though as you get an idea. You keep your eyes peeled for a specific stand.

“You called this the Solar Markets earlier?” You say absentmindedly, still looking around.

“Yes. During the day they are called the Solar Markets, at night they do a quick turn around and then open the Lunar Markets.” He’s speaking so softly you can barely hear him and you wonder if he does it on purpose to keep up appearances of a stoic silent killer.

“Will we be able to stay for the Lunar Markets?” You turn to him hopefully and you hear the beginning of a laugh before the modulator cuts off. He takes a second before you hear the filter crackling back to life.

“No princess. I will have to find a way to sneak you out after hours to show you the Lunar Markets.” His voice is tinged with amusement.

“Why? Are they dangerous?” You instinctively squeeze his arm tighter.

“Not at all, we’re just going to have to make sure you don’t have a tracker on when we go, I’m sure I’d get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out you went, we’ll have to keep your hood up for that trip.” There’s a teasing tone to his voice that you don’t get.

“Are you going to tell me why or am I going to have to guess?”

“I think it will be better if it’s a surprise.” He whispers as he pats your arm gently. You’re about to interrogate him further but you see what you’re looking for and drop his arm, jogging up ahead to a stand, handing over what is definitely too many credits as you tell the Gungan running the stand to keep the change, Mando is right behind you when you turn around, you’ve got a big smile on your face.

“Don’t run off like that. Just because nobody knows you doesn’t mean you aren’t precious cargo.” His voice is stern but you don’t let it bother you as you hold up your purchase.

“Look what I got us.” You're beaming ear to ear. “It’s pear and some kind of spikey melon I didn’t recognize.” You hold the smoothie up towards his helmet and he tilts his head ever so slightly.

“Okay…?” He says it slowly like he’s being careful not to hurt your feelings.

“It has a straw! So you don’t have to take your helmet off.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world as you take a sip. It’s thick, and sweeter than you were expecting but it goes down smooth and you can’t stop smiling as you hold it out towards him.

“That’s very kind of you princess… but it might affect the presence I’m trying to put out if I’m walking around with a straw under my helmet.” He sounds serious as he says it which makes you lose the smile as you think again for a moment.

“Okay. I need to tell you something.” You take his hand and pull him just behind the stall, out of sight of most of the people.

“You’re confusing me princess.” He laughs softly. “What do you want to tell me?” He puts his hands on his hips and you hold a finger out to make a “come closer” motion.

“I have to whisper it.” He sighs as he leans down so his face is next to yours and your mouth is where his ear would be. “Release the airlock on your helmet.” You whisper it and he starts to pull back but you put your hands on his shoulders. “Please. Just for a second.” He lets out another exasperated sigh but after a moment you hear a hiss of air and you bite back a giggle as you bring the drink up between the two of you and shove the straw under the edge of his helmet, you use your body to shield him from anyone passing by. If anyone looked it would look like you were just whispering a secret to him. There’s a moment where you’re worried you’ve gone too far but then you hear a quiet slurping noise and you know you’ve won. After a moment he pulls back and you can see through the clear cup that he’s downed a solid quarter of it. The air hissed as he resealed his helmet.

“Happy?” He has a mock tone of defeat as you grin.

“Extremely.” You take his arm again and lead him back into the crowd as you sip at the drink lazily while you walk. “Did you like it?” You don’t bother concealing the satisfaction in your voice.

“It was a little sweet for me… but yes.”

“I knew you would. I’m always right.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Do you come here at night to buy food or do you just get stuff from the castle?” As you speak you walk over to a pastry stand and drop a pile of credits into the young woman's hand as you take a few small cakes and cookies and put them into your bag, waving off the change again.

“I usually just eat ration packets back at my cabin.”

Full stop.

“Why aren’t you getting food from the kitchens?” You take a step in front of him, staring up into his visor with your arms crossed. You’d had ration packets plenty of times back on Hoth when they were unable to get cargo ships in. They were filling but honestly you’d found them gross most of the time. You didn’t like the idea of him relying solely on those when he had so many other options available to him.

“I never thought to do so. I’ve always just eaten rations packs.” He sounds almost bored with the conversation as you glare up at him. You want to scold him but you know he won’t listen so instead you make a mental note to pick up a few things while you’re here. You take his arm and start walking again. “Do you need anything else from this street or do you want to go to the next one?” He whispers it like he’s unsure if you’re mad at him.

“I’m done here, we can go to the next one.” You keep it light, not wanting anything to ruin this day as he brings you down the next street. This is easily the biggest, most crowded area. It seems like the majority of the vendors set up shop here and you’re having trouble focusing on any single stand as you start your slow trek. A particularly sharp burst of color catches your eye as you approach the stand. The Toydarian manning the shop seems nervous about Mando but you ignore it as you start searching through the plastic flowers.

“We have the gardens at home, why the hell do you need fake flowers?” His eyes are looking around the shelves as he speaks and you find the plastic lilies you were looking for.

“I had these growing up. I just want some for my room.” You can’t help but smile at the idea of having a piece of home back in your chambers, as you hand the shopkeep the credits you catch Mando also handing him some as he shoves something into his bag. You don’t ask because once you leave another stand has already caught your eye.

“Oh no. You’re not getting that.” He’s groaning as you run up to the droid selling vibroblades.

“Come on, they’re all so small I won’t be able to do much damage with one anyway.” You’re peeking through the display case at the knives, settling on a simple dainty one, it’s entirely silver, handle and blade. The droid retrieves it the moment you point it out and you hand him the credits as you put it into the sheath provided before shoving it into your bag.

“Why do you even need that? You have me to protect you.” He puts a hand on his hip but you just take his arm and push him to keep him walking.

“Just for emergencies. Don’t worry about it.” He sighs as you keep walking.

“What emergency? You have a state of the art locking system on your door and a state of the art bodyguard.” He sounds almost offended and you burst into laughter.

“Please don’t tell me you’re jealous of a knife.” You can hear a little huff of air coming from the modulator.

“No.” There’s that bounty hunter voice.

“Oh come on, don’t be jealous, I promise I like you more than the blade.” You poke his pauldron as you tease him.

“I’m not jealous.” He scoffs out.

“Just making sure.”

✩

You spend the rest of the day in the third street of the market. It’s massive, you don’t even get a chance to see every stand. You aren’t even sure you’ve seen half of them. Around midday you take out one of the little cakes you’d bought and eat it, offering him half but of course he declines. You buy a lovely crystal vase for your faux flowers, a few other little snacks you find and several bowls with sealable lids. You’re sure that purchase has Mando raising an eyebrow but he doesn’t say anything.

You’re exhausted by the time the sun is lowering in the sky but you don’t want this day to end. You can tell he’s about to call it as you see a stand that catches your eye and you drag him along to it, you can feel a slight resistance as he realizes where you’re dragging him but it’s too late because you’re already talking to the woman folding fabrics at the entrance.

“Do you by any chance have other wares I could peruse in the back?” You give her a smile as she looks warily between you and the Mandalorian before nodding and taking your hand. He starts to follow but you put a hand against his chestplate.

“You’re not going anywhere without me.” His tone has gotten all stiff and bounty hunter serious as he gently takes your wrist and removes your hand.

“I’m trying on clothes. You need to wait outside.”

It’s way too tense for such a simple request. You can feel the shopkeep trembling behind you but you don’t drop the glare you’ve got trained on his visor. You don’t know how long you stand like that. Scowling at each other. Definitely too long but eventually he sighs and takes a step back.

“Ten minutes. If you don’t come out, I’m going in.” He points a warning finger at you but plants his feet and you know he’ll stay put as you give him a big grin before following the woman into the back.

It’s exactly what you thought it would be.

A lot of the stuff was classier out front but you knew there would most likely be skimpier options where the public couldn’t see them. You started looking through the shelves of lace and silk. You’re only doing so for a moment before the woman is clearing her throat.

“Are you okay, miss?” Her voice is small and timid as she looks over her shoulder anxiously. You raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes…? Why do you ask?” You look away from the woman as you find a shelf exclusively containing green fabrics. Jackpot.

“It’s just, I don’t mean to intrude but- but I’ve never seen a…” She leans in to whisper. “A Mandalorian traveling with someone before. I just want to make sure you aren’t being held against your will. Such a pretty young woman, accompanying such a dangerous man.”

Oh.

Well you should have seen that coming. You give her a reassuring smile. You want to be offended on his behalf but maybe you just didn’t truly grasp how afraid people were of him.

“I’m perfectly safe ma’am, he’s my friend.” She nods slowly, seemingly satisfied with your answer as you hold up a particularly revealing piece. A satiny green two piece set. They could probably pass as pajamas if the bottoms weren’t practically just panties. You put it over your arm as you look for something a little more racy. “Is this everything?” You turn to look at her again.

“No miss, but we don’t bring out what I think you’re looking for until after sundown.”

Oh. That’s why you weren’t staying for the Lunar Market.

“Ah, okay. I’ll be sure to come back for that at some point. Thank you so much for being so accommodating” You hand her half of your remaining credits and her jaw is practically on the floor as you make a swift exit, shoving the clothes into your bag. Finding Mando just outside. He’s in nearly the same position except now he has a small bag in his hands. You pay it no mind as you go to take his arm.

But you miss it completely as someone grabs your other arm pulling you in the opposite direction.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, are you new in town?” It’s a human man with long black hair, he’s got welding goggles strapped to his head. You try as gently as possible to shove him off.

“No, I’ve lived here for some time now, and I should be getting back to my friend…” You’re about to point to Mando hoping that would scare him off but the man is putting a hand around your waist and starts walking you down the street.

“Oh come on sweet thing, why don’t we just walk for a little bit, maybe you can show me what you bought from that stand.” You can hear his hot breath against your neck as he leans closer and you’re about to reach for the blade in your bag but you don’t get too because he’s already on the ground.

You don’t have anytime to realize what’s going on until it’s already happening.

“ Give me a reason to do it. ” Mando’s already on top of him, blaster pressed to the bottom of the man's jaw. His voice sends a chill down your spine, if you thought that the stern tone he used on most strangers was his bounty hunter voice you were horribly wrong. This was his bounty hunter voice. When the man didn’t respond you watched as the barrel of the blaster pushed a hair deeper into the man's skin.

You should probably unpack at some point why you find this so attractive.

Maker, would it be inappropriate to ask him to recreate this later in your chambers?

You don’t register what the man mumbles as Mando reholsters his blaster. Standing up and facing you. You do happen to catch the next words the man mutters as he gets to his feet, unlucky for him Mando catches the words as well.

“Have a good night with your whore, jackass.”

The crack of the punch is so loud, you’re absolutely certain that Mando broke his jaw. The man drops to the ground in an instant and your Beskar companion simply shakes his hand out once before offering you his arm again. You take it as you try to avoid looking at the crumpled body of the man.

Stars, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this attracted to someone.

As a friend. Obviously.

“You get everything you need?” He says as he starts backtracking you down the market street. He’s alarmingly casual.

“Yes. I’m ready to go now.” You give him a nervous smile as you walk, trying to enjoy the sun setting on everything.

It’s hard not to talk about it.

But it’s probably for the best all things considered, if you start reliving that memory, who knows how long you’ll be able to resist dragging the Mandalorian into an alley and getting on your knees.

On your way out you tell him you want to stop and grab some things for dinner, if he notices you buying more food than you could possibly eat he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t even say anything when you make him carry it. It’s a quick ride back to the castle and you can feel the exhaustion taking its toll as he walks you up to your chambers. Leo is waiting for you in the hall to take your tracker bands, Mando mumbles something about losing his but you pay him no mind as you hand Leo yours, telling him to inform the girls that you won’t need them, they can have the night off, and with that he departs. Mando helps you into your room and helps you set your things onto the bed.

“Did you have a good day?” He’s gentle again. Nothing like his tone when you were in public. It makes you smile, like he saves it just for you.

“I did. Thank you, for everything.”

“So you aren’t stressed?” He doesn’t look up, he’s setting a few of the bowls you’d bought out on the bed.

“No not at all, why? If you’re worried about the guy, don’t be I didn’t even have a second to process what was happening…” Your voice trails off as you realize why he was asking.

You idiot.

This is Purely Stress Relief.

Your rule.

You want to take it back immediately but he’s already standing up straighter, and you know you’ve already missed your chance.

“Do you need anything else or should I leave?” He says it with the same tone of disappointment that you currently feel.

Damn it.

You stupid, stupid woman, less than an hour ago you were gonna jump his bones in the street and now that you’ve got him alone you just blew your chance to… well, blow him .

Whatever. It’s for the best. It would be weird to have a really great day out together and then come home and have sex anyway. That’s something a couple would do. And that’s not what this arrangement is. But you can’t let him leave without executing your master plan.

You start opening the food containers and scoop half of everything into the bowls, sealing all of them before rummaging through your bag for one of the little cakes, setting it on top of the three sealed bowls, stacking them.

“Here.” You hold it all out to him and he just stands there for a moment.

“You don’t have to-” The voice that comes out of the filter almost sounds small.

“I know I don’t have to. Now take it, I’m ordering you to go home and eat actual food.” You shove it into his arms and he starts carefully tucking it into his bag.

“You don’t have the authority to order me to do anyth-”

“Shut up. For once, about that.” You give him a stern look and you both stand awkwardly across from each other. You aren’t really sure what he’s waiting for but finally he reaches into his satchel and hands you the small bag he had been holding earlier.

“I bought this for you earlier while you were trying on clothes. It made me think of you.” He doesn’t even give you a second to say thank you before he’s out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. You stand there dumbfounded for a moment before you open the bag, looking down at the contents.

You reach in and hold the necklace in front of your face so you can get a good look.

It’s a simple leather cord but what really catches your eye is the tiny charm. It’s a little silver outline of a flower hanging from the band. A little flower.

Sarad’ika.

You’re glad he didn’t linger to watch you open it because you have to hold back tears.

Even though he didn’t stay you can’t help but smile as you started nodding off. Closing the food containers before grabbing a few things, retreating to the closet. You lay down in your nest of blankets, setting your book down next to you as you stare down at the charm in the palm of your hand. You don’t think you ever had a day this fun even back on Hoth. No one had ever put this much thought into a gift for you. No one had ever defended you like that before either, he had even drunk what you offered him… Your fingers played with the small silver charm as you carefully tucked the necklace between the pages of The Smitten Paladin.

It was probably the most lovely day you’d ever had.

A specific scrawled line of text catches your eyes as they dart to the rules scrawled against the back inside cover and you slam the book shut, shoving it into your pillowcase for safekeeping.

No Romance.

Fuck.

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