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thesassypadawan · 2 days

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Puck Slut .5 (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: After meeting at a local sports bar, Hayden and you hit it off over your shared love of hockey. What starts off as an innocent friendship, soon progresses into a few casual dates. Which some, to no surprise, involve watching your teams face off against one another. Tonight’s date is a bit different. Even though your usual bet is in place, loser buys the winner dinner the next time you two go out. There’s a new, more interesting twist this time of… spice it up more. (The prequel to Puck Slut 1)

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Hockey, couch sex, taring of one lucky shirt and, as always…Hayden’s big dick.

Notes: An origin story for what will now be known as the Puck Slut series! Yes, I will officially be doing one for every time the Pens and Leafs face off!

Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

A little something for @myheartwillgoon2022! As soon as I read your request, I knew that I had to make it into the Puck Slut Origin story! I really enjoyed writing this, it was truly a pleasure! Hope you like it! And thank you for inspiring me to turn this into a series! ❤️

*Pregame*

- First of all, no hockey game would be complete without all sort of tasty snacks and a few ice-cold drinks. Especially ones that you may or may not have purposely picked, because they were someone’s faves.

- “Wow, you didn’t have to do all this; thanks.” Hay says so cutely, taking a sip from his bottle.

- You start to reply all sweetly. “Of course, it’s the least I could do; since you were nice enough to have me over.” Then teasingly add. “And you’re going to need some comfort food when the Leafs lose.”

- Gives your hip a playful pinch. “Oh, yeah? We’ll see who’s buying who dinner tomorrow night.”

- Squeaking a bit; you grab your own drink, along with a tasty treat. And plop ‘gracefully’ on the couch, somewhat close to him. “Which reminds me…I’d like to try that new burger joint.”

- You bet Hay’s going to pinch you again for that sassy, little remark. Snatching that goody from your hand, when you squeak and jump. What a butt.

- But he’s all adorable and smooth, wrapping an arm around you…pulling you right up beside him. “So, out of curiosity, would you want to make this game more interesting?”

- Besides getting to go out on another date with your ‘friend’… All right, you’ll take the bait. “Sure. What were you thinking?”

*Game Time*

- Normally you’d really be into the game. Cheering, hollering, cursing, the whole nine yards. But it’s kind of difficult to do so when your team hasn’t made a single goal and…you were sitting there completely, totally flustered.

- It was all because of the rules. Whenever your team scored a goal, you got a kiss from the other. Except…you had to "spice it up more" every time.

- The third period had just started with the Leafs up by three. And not even two minutes in…the siren went off. Seriously.

- A smug look crosses his face, and he looks down at you expectantly. “Well, angel; you know what to do.”

- Not really having any other ideas, you shyly climb into his lap. Resting your hands on his broad shoulders, pressing your lips softly against his. Little tongue slipping into his mouth; playing and wrestling with his. Just getting yourself more and more worked up.

- Before you’re able to crawl back out, Hay winds a strong arm around your waist. Holding you tightly against his chest. “Uh-uh, you’re not going anywhere. Leafs might score again.”

- Proceeds to make small talk about the game and feeding you snacks. Acting like this is the norm; like you’re not blushing mad crazy or wiggling from the growing bump pressing into your backside.

*Postgame*

- At last the final buzzer rang and the game ended, not before your team scored at the very last second.

- By then you’re so hot and bothered, that you’re sitting there impatiently. Hips shifting from side to side, pouting up at him. “Come on, Hay. My boys got one in. I want mine.”

- He flashes you that damn panty dropping smile. Big hands rubbing your arms soothingly, muttering in your ear. “You want a kiss, huh? All right, I’ll be sure to give you a real good one.”

- Lips crash together in a fiery kiss. Hands grabbing anything they could reach. Teeth nipping at one another hungerly. Hips bumping and grinding, passions just overboiling.

- Practically throwing you down onto the couch. He quickly removes his clothes before working on yours. Yanking them leggings and panties clean off, taring…taring your lucky team shirt. “What the-”

- “It’s fine, I’ll buy you a new one.” Tossing it aside like it was nothing, he lines himself up. Rubbing it up and down your wet slit, coating his fat head thoroughly. “Besides, you’d look better in blue and white anyway.”

- Plunging into your needy cunt, you two don’t waste a single minute. Your hips start rocking, his rolling back and forth. Massive cock stretching you; pulling out and thrusting so deep…you can’t help but whine each time he bottoms out.

- Hayden’s thick neck strains deliciously, slamming and hitting that lovely spot of yours repeatedly. Stealing your breath, making your whole body tense up. The dam inside you is about to break from all that pent up energy. “Gonna… Fuck…”

- “Yeah?” He grunts; pounding ruthlessly, tongue running across your collarbone. “Me too.”

- Biting harshly, you’re both sent spiraling. Gummy walls clenching around and clamping down on him. Dick twitching and filling you up with his hot cum. Moaning and groaning together.

- Taking a moment, the two of you try to catch your breath. Panting, grinning at each other like some love drunk fools. “See, told you I’d give you a real good one.”

- You bust out laughing, smacking him softly. “Shut up, Mountie Boy.” Before pulling him in for another ‘spicy’ kiss.

*Post Postgame*

- You don’t know how, but not only are you able to stand…you can also walk the next morning.

- So there you are, hovering over the stove. Busily making your new boyfriend’s 'mutually agreed upon' victory breakfast, wearing his very oversized Leafs shirt.

- Hay comes up behind, sporting only his extremely cheesy Leafs boxers. Pressing against you, one hand rests on your hip and the other snakes under your shirt…giving your breast a good squeeze. “I was right; you do look better in blue and white.”

- Shivering at his touch, a wicked grin spreads across your face. “Mmh, I don’t know…think you’d look better in mine…just saying.”

- You got a hard pinch for that…worth it.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

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beskarandblasters · 1 day

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Stonecatcher

Chapter One: Working for the Knife

Din Djarin x OFC!Athalia (Second Person POV)

Artwork: The Lovers by René Magritte Gif: @cherubispunk Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Series summary: An up-and-coming bounty hunter and a promising arms dealer cross paths on Dantooine. What starts as a business relationship quickly becomes more. How long can you bury your emotions and be a stonecatcher for someone else before you finally snap?

Series warnings: pre season one of The Mandalorian, instant smut but slow burn romantically, Athalia is able-bodied but other than that has no physical description, angst

Chapter summary: An introduction into our main character, Athalia, the people around her, and the world she lives in. And the fateful night she crosses paths with a certain Mandalorian.

Word count: 3.5k

Chapter warnings: sonic = shower, descriptions of nausea, taking medication, drinking, dub con/consent under the influence, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of birth control (implant)

Gas hangs heavy in the air, permeating the small room and suffocating your senses. Your hands are slick with the thick substance as you fill-up the cartridges, getting ready to load them into the blasters. Every so often you stop and look away, blinking and holding back tears from the fumes. It’s painstaking work, often messy and tedious but you suppose it’s better than working in a brothel or even a cantina like your friend Sheva.

But eventually, you need a break, pulling yourself out of your chair and stepping out back for some fresh air. Your house is located on the edge of Casia, a small village on Dantooine. There’s not much here yet but the influx of travelers leads you to believe Casia will be much more than a primitive village one day.

Your house overlooks the rolling hills and grassy knolls. The rainy season just ended which made the brown grass tinged with a shade of lavender. In the distance, there are a few blba trees, branches shaking in the gentle wind along with the blades of grass. The afternoon sun is shining and the air is invigorating, a harsh contrast to the stuffy gas-filled interior of your home. Moments like this where you’re appreciating the little things are few and far between lately. Your business has consumed everything– your thoughts, your time, your social life.

You take one final deep breath, closing your eyes as you do as if the stress will just melt away. If it only were that easy.

“Are you stopping by tonight?”

You startle with a jolt, turning around to find Sheva, standing with a smile and a hand on her hip. She’s wearing her work uniform, stopping by your place on the way to her shift tonight.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles.

“You’re fine,” you sigh, “But to answer your question, I think so.”

“You think so??”

“What?” you shrug.

“You should get out more often.”

“There’s not much to do in this town to begin with.”

She rolls her eyes and says, “Still, there’s plenty more to do here besides sitting in your house all day, huffing blaster fumes.”

“I’m building my business!” you protest.

“Mhm, sure.”

“Hey, once I gain a more steady customer base I can afford to get those gas cartridges pre-filled.”

“I am just waiting for the day,” she says sarcastically.

“I’ll be there tonight, I promise.”

“Holding you to it,” she says, turning and saying goodbye over her shoulder.

Once you head back inside to get ready for the evening you’re immediately sent into a coughing fit. A pounding headache follows soon after. Maybe Sheva was right…

Fresh air spills in through the windows of your front room as you open them one by one, but it’s not enough. The sonic might help. You turn on the water, shedding your clothes as you wait for it to heat up. The steam fills the small room, alleviating your headache just a tad. But as you wash the gas off your hands, you realize there’s one thing that’ll actually do you some good; a trip to the Apothecary. Medication will quell your headache but a conversation with Sulee, the owner, is perhaps the most healing thing on Dantooine. You’ve known her since you were a child and she’s watched you grow up. She’s been there for you through everything– every test you took in school, every breakup, every fight with Sheva. She’s watched you through every stage of your life and somehow she always knows just what to say when you’re feeling lost and in need of guidance.

Once you’re out of the sonic you dry off and look over your outfit choices for tonight, thumbing through your closet for the perfect thing to wear. Nights out are scarce lately now that you’re so dedicated to the business and it feels like you have endless options to choose from, all outfits from your younger, wilder days. But then you finally settle on one of your old favorites– a simple black dress with matching boots before locking up and heading to the apothecary.

It’s golden hour now and the village is cast in a hazy red glow. Now’s the time when people start pouring into the cantina because there’s nothing else to do. It’ll be a miracle if you get a seat at the bar or even talk to Sheva throughout her shift. She’ll just push you to try and meet someone and you fight back, telling her there’s no one to meet here, that this town is too small for dating. And then you’ll drink too much, filling up on revnog before going back to your fume-filled house, that’ll only contribute to the killer hangover you’ll have the next day. Sounds like a blast.

The Apothecary is located in the center of the village, a modest-looking building decked out in the same earth tones that match Dantooine. Spring is coming to an end but the flowers planted out front are thriving, blooming in a lavender color similar to the blades of grass. Sulee takes pride in keeping the outside of her building presentable, making sure the weeds are pulled and the flowers are cared for. But in her old age, it’s hard for her to get down on the ground by herself, finding herself stuck until someone walks by to help her up. You try to help her when you can but it’s been getting more and more difficult for you to help when the business has occupied all of your time. It makes you feel guilty, flaking out on someone who’s been there for you your whole life. You try not to think about it that much, only letting the guilt eat away at you at night when you’re alone in bed, staring up at the ceiling and telling yourself you can do better, you can be better.

Now’s not the time for guilt.

The Apothecary smells heavenly when you step inside but it’s also impossibly warm. Spring is transitioning into summer and there’s no need for the wood-burning stove to be on. But she’s old so she gets a pass, even though you can feel the sweat already building up on your back.

“You look sick, Athalia,” she says, not even looking up from the pot she’s stirring on the stove.

“I am not!” you say defensively, just as your headache pangs again.

“You don’t go outside anymore,” she sighs, looking up at you from her stool, “You know the sun is good for you, right?”

“You sound like Sheva. You two conspiring against me or something?”

“Just looking out for your best interest,” she shrugs, “Do you need anything?”

“I just have a headache.”

“Knew you looked sick,” she tuts, “Let me get you a pill.”

She goes to rise from her stool but you stop her, helping her sit back down.

“I’ll get it. Just tell me where.”

“Top shelf to the right,” she says, pointing to the shelf behind the counter.

You head behind the counter, glancing at the notepad open on a page with a to-do list on it. A quick glance at Sulee lets you know that her back is towards you still, giving you a moment to snoop. You look over the page, focusing less on the contents of the list and more on the state of her handwriting. It’s shaky and barely legible. You’re reminded again of her declining health and how absent you’ve been lately.

“Did you find it?” she asks, still facing the stove.

“Yup!” you lie, spinning around and scanning the top shelf.

You find the bottle she was talking about, downing a couple of pills before setting it back on the shelf.

“Have fun tonight,” she says, looking up at you as you walk to the door.

“I didn’t even tell you where I was going.”

“The cantina. Where else would you be going?”

“You’re right.”

“There’s nothing else to do in this town,” you both say simultaneously. You share a laugh and start to feel a bit better for once.

“See you later!” you call over your shoulder before leaving the Apothecary.

The cantina is on the other side of Casia, on the side of the village where the river sits. It’s sort of an unfortunate place for the cantina to be considering that many travelers will drunkenly stumble and fall into the river. Luckily for Casia, charging travelers rescue fees is one of the village’s largest sources of profit.

The cantina is just about as busy as you thought it would be. Many of the townspeople are packed into booths lining the outer edge of the room. But there are also a few people you don’t recognize, mainly humans but also a few other species such as a Trandoshan, three Twi’leks, and a Sullustan. The free-standing tables are full but luckily there are two seats left at the bar.

Perfect. You can stay close to Sheva like you had hoped to, enjoy a few rounds of revnog, and turn in early.

You shuffle past the sweaty bodies, the smell of smoke hanging in the air. Being here isn’t too far off from being home, given the smell. The only different thing is the noise. There’s an uncomfortable stillness in your house that’s present all the time.

Sheva spots you at the opposite end of the bar from where she’s at. She makes eye contact with you and stops talking to the customer she’s standing in front of, much to his dismay.

“What?!” she says, raising her hands in a faux defensiveness, “I’ll be here all night. Don’t get all clingy on me.”

She turns and grabs a glass, pouring your first drink for the night. She slides it down the countertop to you, mouthing the words “help me” and gesturing to her overbearing customer.

You take the glass and shrug, shooting her a smirk before taking a sip. Looks like you’re on your own until this schmuck decides to leave.

It takes another three rounds for this guy to leave. And thank the Maker he did because he was occupying all of Sheva’s time. She finally makes her way to you, sighing and slumping against the bar.

“New boyfriend?” you tease.

“Don’t start.”

“Where’s he from?”

“Tatooine. Don’t know what he’s doing here but to each their own.”

“Wow. Left one shit-hole and came to another one.”

“What a sad life.”

“Hey now. He traveled all this way to see you! Don’t be rude.”

She groans again while you erupt into a fit of laughter.

“Hey, sweetheart! I need another round of Spotchka,” a man three seats down from you calls out.

“Duty calls,” she says, standing up straight and putting on her best customer service smile.

“Sweetheart? Is that the best you can do?” she pretend-jokes, grabbing a glass for him.

You nurse the rest of your drink, getting ready to wind down for the evening. It’s a shame you didn’t get to see much of her tonight but it’s the weekend. At least you got to spend time with Sulee, even if it was brief.

Just when you’re setting your credits down on the bar, you sense a presence beside you. You turn your head and startle a bit. It’s a Mandalorian. You’ve only seen less than a handful of them in your lifetime. His helmet is silver but the rest of his armor doesn’t match. Instead, every piece of armor is a different earth tone, peppered with scratches from cycles of wear and tear. His gloved hands rest on his belt and his cape is black, also showing signs of wear.

“...Can I help you?” you ask, starting to feel the revnog. Your face feels hot as you talk to him. There’s something attractive about him even though you can’t see his face.

“I’m just passing through town and I’m wondering where’s the best place to purchase a part for my rifle.”

You don’t care if you’re slightly drunk. You’re not going to miss an opportunity to make a sale.

“What are you looking for? I might be able to help.”

You half expect him to chastise you, a woman offering to help a big scary man with his rifle. But he doesn’t.

“I’m looking for a scope for my Amban Rifle.”

“I’ve got plenty of those,” you say, standing up from your stool, “Follow me.”

You lead him out of the cantina, stumbling a bit as you walk. His hand rests on the small of your back and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“You alright?” he asks behind you.

“Mhm,” you call out, taking a deep breath of the cool nighttime air as you step out onto the street.

Silently, you walk side by side to your house. But deep down you’re excited at the prospect of a sale and potentially a new recurring customer. Until you remember he’s not from around here.

He follows you inside and your nose is still met with the smell of gas. You hope that he doesn’t smell it. Maybe he can’t with his helmet.

“How much are you charging for it?” he asks.

There’s that hurdle. The price.

You hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead. It’s your first scope sale.

“Twenty credits?”

“...That’s it?”

Kriff, that was probably too low. But you can’t go back on your price now.

“...Yup,” you say, closing the door.

“I’ll take it.”

“Great. Can I see the rifle?”

He pulls it off of his back and hands it to you. You take it in your hands and look at the scope he has attached to it currently, checking for the size he needs. The glass of the lens is cracked.

“How’d you manage this?”

“Broke it during a scuffle.”

You look up from the rifle and raise your eyebrow, silently wanting more information. He gives it to you.

“Bounty gave me a hard time.”

“You’re a bounty hunter?”

“Mhm.”

You return your gaze to the rifle, running your fingers down the barrel. It’s… filthy.

“When’s the last time you cleaned this?”

“Uhh.”

“Don’t worry. I got it.”

You turn towards your cabinet behind you and open the door, searching for oil and a pad. Meticulously, you clean his rifle, starting at the barrel and working your way down. There’s an uncomfortable silence looming over you two as he just watches you clean his rifle. You notice he’s shifting between both feet, almost like he’s nervous. His hands clench and unclench at his sides and that’s when you spot what’s making him fidget so much; the bulge in his flight suit.

This man is getting hard watching you clean his rifle. Maker, you’re going to have fun with this.

Once you’re done you set it on your table, getting ready to search for the right size scope. Turning and bending over a box in the corner of your front room, you rifle through the jumbled mess. Bending over while wearing a dress was intentional but not being able to find the scope was not. And now you fear that you look like an idiot, an idiot who’s barely cut out to run her own business.

“Do you need help?” he deadpans.

“Uhh…”

You hear him walk closer towards you just as you’re trying to lift the box from the floor. And before you know it his crotch collides with your ass. You stifle a giggle and he sighs. Kriff, that was inappropriate and you normally wouldn’t laugh. But in your drunken stupor, you thought it was funny.

“Do you have it or not?”

“What if I don’t?”

He lets out another exasperated sigh.

“Are you just gonna let this little trip go fruitless?” you press, wondering if he’ll catch your drift.

“No,” he practically growls, his hand cupping your ass, “I’ll take what I can get.”

“You’re not taking anything if I’m willingly giving it to you,” you chuckle, backing into him further.

He grabs you by your hips, dragging you over to the table where you do your work. He shoves the rifle aside and you hop up on the table, lying back and hiking up your skirt, spreading your legs for him.

“So eager,” he teases but in a way that actually feels mean. It doesn’t hurt, though.

Instead, you shoot back, “Says the one who got hard watching me clean his rifle.” He huffs as his hand palms your inner thigh and you press further, “What’s the matter, Mando? Got all hot and bothered watching a woman handle your blaster?”

He leans forward, bringing his helmet above your face. You stare into the visor, lips curled into a smirk.

“Shut up,” he says, most likely through gritted teeth.

“Or else what?” you counter.

“Or I’ll make you.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” you say, rolling your eyes.

He jerks his groin into you, bulge pressing against your underwear-clad cunt. You sit up and sigh, doing the work for him and tugging off your underwear. You toss it on the floor and lie back down, telling him, “If you’re going to have your way with me then just do it already.”

You spit in your hand and reach between your legs, getting yourself nice and slick for him. He pulls his cock out of his flight suit and you can’t help but want a look. You prop yourself up on your elbows, inching upright to sneak a peek. It’s as big as you thought but that was a given considering the saunter in his step. But it’s also thick and uncut. Seeing the head of his cock makes you wonder if the shade matches his lips. It doesn’t matter, though. Something about not seeing his face makes this even hotter.

He takes his cock in his hand and strokes it a few times, spreading the pre-cum that’s built up at the tip down his shaft. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you into him, thrusting his cock inside you.

Your breath hitches at the sudden girth inside you, his cock buried down to the hilt.

“You can take it,” he says.

“I-I know,” you breathe out, still getting adjusted to his size. You’re not about to let him get a rise out of you, even now when he’s balls deep in you.

His hands move to your waist, holding you steady as he draws his hips back and thrusts into you again. With each one you get more accustomed to him, your pleasure builds and core muscles grow tense. But he’s determined to make a mess of you. He brings his hand by your cunt, thumb rubbing your clit as he pounds into you.

Your moans grow higher in pitch and your front room is filled with the lewd, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you. With the noise you remember that you opened all the windows before you left for the cantina tonight, meaning that anyone walking by can hear Mando railing you.

Your back arches and your orgasm spills over the edge. Stars dance in your vision as he fucks you through your release, thumb still rubbing your clit.

“That’s it. Cum on my cock,” he says, keeping the same pace.

You’re too blissed out to come up with a witty response. Your walls clench his cock and the sensation triggers his own orgasm. His cum spills inside you and you panic for a second at the accidental creampie until you remember you have an implant. It’s just finally useful for once.

He pulls out of you when he’s done coming and you sit upright on the table, avoiding eye contact with each other.

He puts his cock back in his flight suit and after a beat of silence you say, “You still want the scope, right?”

“I do.”

You slide off the table and smooth down your skirt, walking over to the box of parts and crouching down. You find the scope and stand up, holding it out in front of you.

“Told you I had it.”

He sighs again as you attach it to his rifle. He reaches into his pocket, grabbing a handful of credits, and placing them in your hand.

“Here’s twenty-five credits. Keep the change.”

“Thanks, Mando,” you say, handing off the rifle.

He nods with a tip of his helmet and gets ready to leave, walking to the door and giving you a final look before disappearing into the night.

That was… hot. And certainly not how your business transactions normally go. It’s a shame he’s not from around here, though.

You close your windows, deciding that you gave your neighbors enough of a show tonight, and head to bed. You’re not one for one-night stands, but for an experience like that… you’d make an exception any day of the week.

End note: Today’s the one year anniversary of my first fic! Thank you to @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @clawdee for letting me talk out this series this y’all + being my beta readers 🤍🤍

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Tag list: @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @freelancearsonist @djarins-cyare @survivingandenduring @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @chiyo13 @pedrostories @schnarfer @burntheedges

#stonecatcher #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x oc #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x original female character #din djarin smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian x original character #the mandalorian x oc #din djarin x reader

54 notes · View notes

castiwls · 3 days

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tolerate it - a.s

Paring; anakin x reader

Prompt; 'If it's all in my head, tell me now. Tell me I've got it wrong somehow'

Requested; @simonsbluee

Notes;anakin version:) again all time fav cry song requests are open!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

The sound of the door opening pulled your attention from the data pad on your lap. A small smile grew on your lips as you placed the pad beside you before standing from your seat. “Your back,” You grinned. “I didn’t think you were due back for another few days.”

Anakin pulled off his robe before turning to you, his grin just as bright. “We got back early.” He closed the distance between you both pulling you into a hug. You felt his arms squeeze tightly around your middle as you tucked your head into the crook of his neck.

Taking a deep inhale you felt your body relax in his arms. He was safe. After weeks he was finally home again. After a moment you pulled back. His arms still wrapped around your waist. “I missed you.” He spoke quietly, his eyes slowly tracing your face.

“I missed you too.” You smiled slowly rubbing a hand through the back of his head. “How come you’re back so early?”

“Some sort of diplomatic thing.” He let out a breath, rolling his eyes causing you to laugh quietly. You knew how much he hated anything which involved politics. In all the time you’d known Anakin he’d never been one for anything which involved long boring conversations.

“The charity ball?” He nodded his thumb slowly rubbing circles on your waist. “Yeah. How did you know about it?” He frowned slightly, a look of confusion filling his features. “I got invited to,” You watched as a small smile grew on his lips at the idea of not being alone. “Well. That should make this slightly more bearable.”

You nodded thinking for a moment. “We could…we could go…together.” Your voice came out as a whisper. The thought was something which had been sitting on your mind for a while.

Every event you were invited to end up with you having to go alone. It was always the same questions asking when you were going to get into a relationship if you had anyone special in your life. By this point, you had mastered the act of politely brushing off anyone who brought up the topic, but that didn’t mean that it never hurt.

It hurt that you were unable to share your relationship with the other people in your life. That you had to act as if Anakin was nothing more than an acquaintance when you met him in public. You knew getting into this relationship that there would have to be sacrifices, you never expected anything less. But sometimes you wished that he would have enough trust in you to share your relationship with those closest to you.

Anakin let out a sigh, his gaze moving down to your feet. He pursed his lips slightly, looking back up. “Angel, you know we can’t…” He moved a hand to gently cup your check. “If the council found out about us…I don’t know what they’d do.” he frowned to himself as he spoke, his gaze seemingly growing distant for a moment before he re-focused back on you.

“I can’t risk them finding out.” He rubbed a thumb across your cheek. You kept your face passive as you stared at him.

Sometimes your relationship felt almost one-sided. You felt committed to him in a way that he could never commit himself to you. While you knew Anakin was by no means in love with the order and their rules you knew he was still committed. You came second.

The thought had you swallowing, trying to push back the sudden rush of emotions that ran through you. “Fine.” You pulled back from his hold before walking back to the main room. Anakin sighed following closely behind you.

“Are you seriously gonna do this again? You know why we can’t do that. It would put my rank at risk!” He stopped as you turned to face him. You jabbed a finger into his chest. “You. You. You. That’s all it ever is. Do you ever think about what I want?”

“Of course, I think about what you want. You are the most important person in my life!” He reached out to grasp your hand. He lowered his voice as he spoke. “Which is why I can’t lose you.”

You rolled your eyes letting out a quiet breath. “You know, sometimes I feel…I feel like you don’t even love me anymore.” You felt your lips quiver slightly as you swallowed back tears. “Like you're only here out of obligation.”

You watched his face drop slightly. “Of course I love you. You’re my wife.” He stepped closer, his thumb slowly rubbing circles over your palm. “Then why are you so scared of telling the people closest to us that we’re married,” You pulled your palm from his grasp feeling a tear slowly slip down your face.

“There’s dinner on the table if you want it.” You whispered before walking towards the bedroom.

You could hear him calling after you but you simply ignored it slamming the door behind you. Slowly you sank to the ground, your body shaking slightly as sobs began to fall from your lips.

You’d stopped feeling loved a long time ago. At first, you’d believed that the feeling was simply in your head that you were just having doubts about your relationship due to how new it was, yet those doubts never seemed to go away.

And Anakin did nothing to quell those doubts. Taking a breath you placed your chin on your knees, staring at the bed. You never imagined the man who you were supposed to love unconditionally and who was supposed to love you back could leave you feeling so unseen in your own relationship.

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vodika-vibes · 3 days

Note

hii i was hoping to request wolffe with topaz or ruby (your choice i’m good with either one!!) in winter at sunset for your follower event pls!!

Safe and Sound

Summary: You love watching the sunset, especially in the winter when the sky is painted in purples and blues. Wolffe isn’t quite so fond of it, but he loves you, so he’s there anyway.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN!Reader

Word Count: 677

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope that this is close to what you wanted. I was in the mood for some massive Wolffe fluff. The title is brought to you by the song that was playing when I started writing it, lol.

You sit on the couch in your sunroom, your gaze directed at the setting sun as you watch as the sky is painted in purples and blues. You pull your legs up to your chest, carefully making sure that the fleece blanket is covering all of you.

Maybe you should take a picture, so you can try and replicate what you’re seeing on a canvas later-

Your head tilts to the side when the side door opens. A small smile crosses your face when Wolffe, your Wolffe, stops in the door and stomps snow off his boots.

“Welcome back,” You say in a light voice.

“Thanks,” He rips his gloves off and tosses them in a pile of winter clothes, “Kriff, it’s freezing out there.”

“Mm, the weather did say that the temperature was going to drop tonight.” You reply, “Come and sit with me?”

He glances at you, his mismatched eyes flickering over the blanket wrapped around you, and he laughs, “You know, it’s probably warmer in the main part of the house.

“I’m plenty warm here,” You counter, “And I’ll be warmer when you sit with me.”

“So bossy,” Still, Wolffe tosses the last of his winter gear to the side and walks over to you, dropping on the couch with a heavy sigh, before he tugs you onto his lap. Almost immediately, he buries his face in your neck, pressing a feather light kiss against the skin there. “Are we watching the sky again?”

“It’s pretty.” You offer.

“Mm. Seen one sunset, seen them all.” Wolffe counters, as he continues laying light kisses against your skin.

“Well, you don’t have to sit with me, Wolffe.” You point out logically as you reach up to lightly pet his hair.

“Sure I do, wouldn’t want you to get lonely.” Wolffe’s lips curl up into a small smirk, and you yelp when his hands dip under your shirt. His hands are like ice.

“Cold!” You yelp, trying to squirm away, though his grip around you is firm, holding you in place, “Were you pushing snow around with your bare hands?” You demand, shivering as his hands drift a little higher.

“Just wanted to share the love, since you’ve done everything in your power to avoid the cold, cyare.” He pulls away from your neck and he has a mischievous little grin on his lips.

“Mean.”

“You’ll live.” Wolffe replies, as he shifts you so that you’re facing him, “There we go, now I can see that pretty face of yours.”

You pull your hands out from under the blanket and press them against his face, “Mm, well, one of us is pretty, but I think it’s you.”

“Yeah, the scar really brings out the color of my eyes.” He jokes, his eyes closing as your soft fingers lightly trail against the scar over his eye.

“There’s a reason I spend most of my time painting you, handsome.” You point out, “And it’s only a little bit because I love you.”

“Hm, and what’s the rest?”

“Because you’re gorgeous and everyone should see you like I do.” You say stubbornly.

“Everyone, huh.” Wolffe asks with a small smirk.

Your face heats, “Well. Maybe not exactly like how I see you,” You admit sheepishly.

He laughs and pulls you in for a kiss, “I love you, you know that?”

“You might have mentioned it once or twice,” You say with a small grin.

“Only once or twice? Well, I’m clearly neglecting you. Let me fix that.” He presses his lips against your forehead, “I love you.” His lips trail down your nose, “I love you.” Across your eyelids, “I love you. I love you.” Down your cheeks, “I love you.”

You dissolve into giggles just before his lips catch your own in a heated kiss, “I love you.” He murmurs against your lips, his gaze heated.

Your lips curl up into a smile as you trail your fingers up into his curls, “Show me?”

A low chuckle falls from his lips, “Oh, cyar’ika, as though you have to ask.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 follower celebration #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

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iron-strangers · 2 days

Text

That's my girl!

aka Din watches you fight with the biggest heart eyes in the galaxy as Wildest Dreams (Taylor's Version) plays in the background (a WIP of my 3+1 fic)

gif credit @1038276637

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Female Jedi!Reader

Length: 690+ words

Tags: Mand'alor Din Djarin, Swearing, Kid Fic

A/N: Written in Expanding Clan Mudhorn universe. Link to the series on ao3, tumblr

“I challenge you for the Mand’alor’s hand in marriage.”

The lively chatters around the market shifts into a quiet whispers when a challenger appears from the crowd. She has her full armor on, holding her blaster up for everyone to see. Shrugging, you took your squirming fourteen-months toddler from his birikad (baby harness) into his buir’s (father’s) arms before walking into the fight. Aranar laughs, clapping his chubby hands and pointing at you. “Bu-ee! Look, momma!”

“Yes, Ar’ika, momma’s gonna kick some s-h-e-b (ass), so we have to stand aside and let her do her thing, okay?” Din sighs, bouncing the boundless energy out of his toddler, getting a ‘Kay! and a grin from his son who’s currently munching happily on his small portion of uj cake, with that sweet tooth no one will ever doubt that he truly his momma’s son. Aranar is getting a lot of ‘copikla’ (cute) from every passer-by, enthralled by his mop of dark curly hair and his adorable toothy smile.

“I accept your challenge,” you smile, turning your saber on. The snap-hiss of lightsaber ignition rips through the air and Aranar whoops. “Bu-ee! Pu-pel!”

“Yes, good job Ar’ika! Momma’s laser sword is purple!”

“How many time should I tell you it’s called lightsaber.” Kryze sighs, holding her head in her hand. She insisted to come during their visit to the newly opened Sundari Market for this exact reason, security of the Ven’alor Mand’alor. “You married a jedi, osik (shit), you have two jet’ika.”

“Osik!” Aranar parrots, laughing without caring how his buir is going through all five stages of grief in three seconds. “Kryze! I swear to the Manda-”

Din is cut-off by the sound of lightsaber hitting beskar. You deflect blaster bolts with the force and hits the challenger on her pauldron. You swipe your saber low, aiming for her leg. She jumps and brings her other hand up, shooting grappling hooks out of her vambrace, straining you. You groan as you fight against the ropes until it budges a little, enough for you to slash it with your saber. You pull on the leftover rope, sending the challenger towards you and you punch her in the middle of the T-Visor of her helmet, sending her to the ground with a loud crack.

“That’s my girl!” Din cheers, earning snickers and adoration from the passer-by. Flustered behind his helmet, he nuzzles Aranar’s soft curls, pointing and narrating the fight to the baby. “That’s your momma, ad’ika. Isn’t she the best? Buir and momma will teach you just how to fight like that when you’re ready, ner ka’ra (my star). You’ll be unstoppable.” Din can't take his eyes off of his riduur (wife). You fight with grace, your steps calculated and you never miss your attack. Every hissing sound of lightsaber meeting beskar only adds to his love and adoration.

She shoots another round of blaster bolts and you deflect them all to the ground with the force, careful not to let stray bullets hit the crowd. You stalk over her, the tip of your saber dragging on the ground. You flick your hand and her blaster flies from her hand, crumpling in the air when you curl your hand into a fist and brings the tip of your saber up to her neck, so close to her pulse point.

“Yield,” you command. She stutters, forfeiting the fight and scurrying back to the crowd.

“Anyone else want to challenge our clan?” Your question is met by silence and you smile, turning the saber off. Addressing the crowd to go back to their activity as the purple light disappear into the hilt of your lightsaber.

Aranar lights up when he sees you, making a grabby hand and asking you for uppies. Smiling, you pepper the laughing boy’s cheeks with kisses and lift him up to your shoulder. Din leans his helmeted forehead to yours and leads his family away from the crowd.

“Hey, Kryze made Ar’ika swore back then.”

“By the force- Kryze!”

Yeah, that’s my girl, Din smiles adoringly behind his helmet, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together before you can go smack some sense into Kryze.

#expanding clan mudhorn #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #drabble #din djarin is a simp for his wife #it's okay he's allowed #this is the way

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split-spectrum · 2 days

Text

Water and Rock

Chapter 14

Pairings: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: slow burn, angst

Chapter Length: 5.5K

Description: There are only so many excuses a master and padawan can make to kiss under "extenuating circumstances" before circumstances stop arising and start being created. You are an expert at your craft - a Jedi knight in service as a spy for the Republic. When your former master Obi Wan joins you on a mission, it's clear things aren't the same as they once were. The trials you face together may break your bond, or turn it into something else entirely.

☆☆☆

Hour Fifty-Eight

The hot water feels good on your skin, and Obi Wan's soft strokes down your arm feel even better.

Your refresher wasn't built for more than one person at a time, so it's a tight squeeze. You aren't complaining, though, with his arm slung so nicely around your waist. You've finished washing up, having luxuriated in the heat long for far too long, but you don't want to step out.

His hand grazing your arm feels nice, but it isn't quite comforting. Not with the way his aura is slowly dissipating around you. When you'd stepped in together and turned on the water, he'd felt so serene through the Force. Now, he's pulling back into himself.

You lean a little harder into the hot, unrelenting stream. He kisses your shoulder, resting his chin in the crook of your neck, his skin warm and wet against yours. Then, he starts to drift away. As if his hand is slipping away from yours, his Force signature dims and finally disappears, leaving only emptiness.

"No," you say, a little too quickly. You turn your head a bit, although you can't properly see him while he's holding you this close. "Not- not yet."

Without a word, he opens the bond you've created and you close your eyes, feeling him again.

You're ready. You're ready to lose him. But not a moment - not a second earlier than you must.

He'd moved his robe near the door sometime before breakfast. You catch sight of it behind his head when he leans in to kiss you, leaving the refresher. You're half-dressed - clothed from the waist down, and his hands are taking advantage of every glimpse of skin you're still offering him. You step slowly backward, quietly guiding him into your bedroom.

Now that the heat is restored, your quarters are warm and inviting, and exactly where you'd like to keep him. It's been light outside for a long, long while, and as he lays you down into the blankets, you try to ignore the way the sunlight spreads down the angle of his cheek. The starlight only reaches Ilum every nineteen days. Normally, you try to enjoy every moment out of darkness. But right now, all you want to do is close your eyes and shut it out.

He catches your lips again, and you nearly flinch away at the softness of it. The end of things is soaking through him and pouring into you. You can't pretend anymore.

"Obi Wan," you whisper against his mouth, pushing your fingers through the thick locks of wet hair at the nape of his neck.

"Mm," he quietly answers you, letting his lower lip drag against yours.

You can't stand it. The aching - it's already begun, and he's still here. You press your fingertips hard to the back of his head and open your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose as you crush your lips against him. When you pull back, he looks a little dazed, and he searches your eyes.

"Don't be gentle with me. Please," you say, gazing up at him. "I can't take it."

His eyes soften with understanding. He's leaving, and drawing it out with tenderness is growing crueler with every touch. He kisses you again, passionately this time. When he pulls away, he cups your face, keeping you close as he lies down beside you in the bed. His aura still glows for you, surrounding you with warmth. That much, you know he can't help.

You press your body into him and he raises an arm to put it around you. He hasn't put on a shirt yet. You can smell your soap on his skin.

"What do you plan to tell the council?"

Your question pierces the silence, frosts over the heat in the air.

His chest falls a little with an exhale. "I will tell them I'm prepared for my next assignment."

You lift your chin to look at him. "And when they ask where you've been?"

The muscles of his shoulder shift beneath you in a shrug. "It's quite unlikely they'll ask. And I certainly won't volunteer the information."

You let the silence linger. "But we aren't keeping your visit a secret?"

His voice lowers when he finally answers. "Being a member of the council comes with many difficulties. But, one of the benefits includes very little questioning."

You blink, letting his indirect response sink in as you consider how well it will go over if you avoid being questioned. You're not eager to lie to Master Tiin, but you've spent more than enough time undercover to learn the art of deflection.

There's no reason for any member of the council to suspect anything beyond friendship between a master and his former apprentice. But, now that you've gone several hours without reporting in... it would be easier to claim technical difficulties with your communication than to explain why Obi Wan hadn't left the minute the storm ended.

"When you get your next assignment..." you trail off, hesitant to broach the subject but forcing yourself to proceed logically. "When we both get our next assignments... What- what I mean is..."

He takes your meaning without your needing to finish the thought. "The position of High General also comes along with a number of advantages." He shifts you in his arms to look down into your eyes. "If your name finds its way onto one of my duty lists, I will find it another one."

You pull your eyes down from his, feeling relief at the simplicity and a pang of stunned sadness at how easily you can be removed from one another's lives. It's very unlikely you would have had another mission together anytime soon - Oba Diah had been the first time in years, and when the war ends, you'll be able to choose where you go. But hearing it out loud is... new.

"So, that's it, then," you say after some time, carefully leaving the bitterness out of your tone. "No loose ends."

He presses his lips together, not saying anything. His eyes trail down your face, and then he leans down to kiss you again.

When his lips drag, inch by soft, wet inch down your neck, you close your eyes, and you try to imagine a lifetime in a handful of minutes.

Hour Sixty

Even the brightest days on Ilum are nowhere near the brilliance of a morning on Coruscant, and yet, the sunlight feels like it's searing you down to your core. Your doorway illuminates the back of Obi Wan's head in a faint glow as he faces you.

You hand him something small and wrapped, drawing your eyes down to your hands. "I packed you a few yalo cakes for the road."

You hear the smile in his response. "You spoil me."

Blinking, you force yourself to match his smile and toss a glance at the chrono in your kitchen.

Six more hours. There were supposed to be six more...

You finally look back at him when he lets out a soft sigh through his nose. "We seem to say goodbye more often than hello."

"It's not an easy thing to do," you respond.

"Yes, well," he says, stepping closer. "Perhaps we just needed more practice."

It's nonsense, this little back-and-forth. The last few hours have been steeped in these exchanges. Talking just to keep hearing one another.

You want to kiss him, and instead you just straighten one of the shoulder straps of his bag. "I guess we've pretty much perfected it."

Heat begins to prick at the back of your throat, so you tighten your manufactured smile, turning away from him to pull on a heavy robe and open the door. "Come on. I'll walk you out."

He says your name quietly, gently placing a hand on your arm to slow your hurried movements. He holds you still in the doorway under his suddenly penetrating gaze. "There are... so many more things I want to say to you."

You don't - can't - say anything in return. He searches your face, then tells you the rest in silence.

Maybe this would have been easier if you had allowed him to sever your bond earlier. But you don't want this to be easy. You want it to hurt. You want to feel it all, and a small, selfish part of you wants him to feel it, too. Because even after everything, that same small part of you has always believed he could walk away and forget you.

The larger part of you immediately pushes back with warmth and light, and you take his hand in yours. "You've told me more than... than I'd ever thought possible. You don't need to say another word."

You turn away quickly then, to finish putting on your outer robe and boots, and he follows you out the door to his speeder. He dusts the snow from the seat and straddles it, then starts it without trouble. Your heart sinks a little. Even if it hadn't started, you would still have a speeder to loan him. It wouldn't have bought you much time - just a walk to your supply shed. But it would have been time nonetheless.

You watch him shift in his seat, getting ready to pull away. You're determined to keep your smile in place, and determined to keep flooding him with nothing but contentment and peace until he's gone.

Suddenly, he leans the speeder to the side and stands up, keeping one hand on the handlebar and using the other to hold your face in his gloved hand.

"I am not in the habit of asking the Force for favors," he tells you. "But nearly every time I have, it has been for you." He holds you steady in his hand, gazing deeply into your eyes. "To keep you safe. To bring you strength. To bring you peace. To allow me to see you again."

You're speechless at his admission; struck dumb as he lays himself bare.

"May the Force be forever with you."

The words and the sentiment behind them penetrate your mind as he kisses you, tightening his grip on your jaw, sinking his mouth into you like he's taking his last breath before a plunge. Your arm lifts up, your palm snaking around the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him close-

And he breaks away, tearing his mouth from you in the same swift motion he uses to mount the bike again. The cold whisks away the warmth of his touch instantly. The speeder takes off all at once.

Your fingers are still tingling from where you'd curled them through his hair - hair that's whipped back by the wind as he races across the barren ice sheet, disappearing into the distance.

He doesn't look back, and it's his last kindness to you. Because when he severs your connection through the Force, your face crumbles.

Your eyes blur and his tiny outline on the horizon trickles sideways into an indistinct line. His form meets the planet's just as his signature sinks back into the hum of the rest of the universe.

You aren't sure how to stay standing. You're not sure you can walk back to your doorway. After some time, you eventually turn around. Squeezing your eyes against the sting of the wind, you begin by putting one foot in front of the other.

Hour Sixty-Six

You've finally managed to will yourself to begin tidying your living space, unable to concentrate on meditation or any other means of distraction. You've never been so blissfully full and yet so empty and numb. The hollow feeling in your chest is nearly unbearable. You can hardly think of anything else. But you can force yourself to move, even if it's focusing on simple tasks, for now.

You pick up a blanket, fold it, and rest it on a chair.

You gather one candle, and then another. You store them back in the cupboard.

You begin to sweep the bits of ash on top of the wood stove with your hand-

Your knees nearly give out beneath you, and you manage to catch yourself on the edge of the stove. The hollowness in your chest is replaced with a sudden and unyielding pressure. The Force cries out, stabbing you with a single word. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Utapau.

Days begrudgingly morph into weeks, your determination to keep putting one foot in front of the other the only thing keeping you upright for the majority of the time. The first time you leave your home again, a quick trip to the main base for resupply becomes an extended visit. You spend too much time talking to the port authority workers there, dragging out your conversations until hours have passed. You feel strange and embarrassed when you finally leave.

You'd always been good at compartmentalizing. At least when you'd been performing your security duties and maintaining your outpost, you'd been able to turn off the part of your mind that handled emotions. Up until now, you'd thought you'd gotten pretty good at it.

As you chart a quick path home, you make a mental note that it may finally be time to return to the land of the living. Meditation can only go so far as a coping method, and evidently you're a bit starved for contact with other sentient beings. Perhaps it's time you finally reach out to a friend - if you can really call any of your working contacts friends - and try to regain some semblance of normalcy over dinner. Maybe a drink. Maybe several.

Later that night, you lie in bed, as you often have been, wide awake. During your daily duties, it isn't impossible to keep your thoughts from straying to Obi Wan. But as you try to find rest and your mental barricades lower, it's inevitable. You can't hold it off forever.

Utapau echoes constantly within you.

You turn, lying flat on your back, closing your eyes. You've had plenty of opportunity to reach out to him and share the message the Force is obviously trying to send you.

But what would you say? What would be worth breaking your promise never to contact him? A vague feeling? A single word?

"Careful of your thoughts, young one."

Your eyes snap open. Your head turns toward the voice in your room. You loose a sudden breath from your chest.

You want to say his name, but you're afraid the lump in your throat will harden and choke you. Instead, you just stare long enough to gather yourself and speak. "What are..."

"What am I doing here?" Obi Wan smiles. "I could ask you that very question."

You blink. "I... I don't..."

"You called." He says, slowly stepping closer. Then, kneeling, he reaches a hand up to your face. "You called out in the Force. And now I'm here."

Your eyes search his as he brushes his palm gently against your skin. Is this a dream? A delusion? Or could he really be here?

"I'm... sorry," you finally manage to say, when the gravity of what you've done sinks in. "I didn't mean to reach out. I didn't mean to... to-"

"Don't apologize," he says softly, interrupting your mumbling. "Sometimes the Force works through us in ways none of us can expect. But I am here now." He moves his hand from your cheek and places a kiss where it had been. "I will always come when you call."

Your eyes close of their own accord when his lips brush your face. You can't fathom a reply. This can't be real.

"Now, I'll ask again: Why am I here?" He looks at you with that dazzling sparkle in his eye, and it makes your stomach flip. "You called out to me for a reason. What is it?"

The single word that's been thrumming in the back of your consciousness for months bubbles to the surface. You take in a shaky breath.

"Come now, you must tell me," he says, a bit more sternly.

It catches you off-guard. He's hardly given you a moment to collect yourself. You hesitate. "I... there is... something. I don't know what it is, really, but-"

"Tell me," he insists, locking his eyes with yours. Your face heats with frustration; uncertainty. He's cutting you off before you can even form your words properly.

You keep your eyes steadily on his, and you nod. "Okay. Yes. I'll tell you. It's... it's just a feeling, and... and a word - a place-"

The holocomm chirps from the other room.

Your eyes break away from Obi Wan to the blinking light of the incoming call behind him. His gaze follows yours. Neither of you moves for what feels like an eternity. You know you shouldn't ignore it, but Obi Wan is right here, back in your arms, after everything. You can't simply turn away from him for...

... for your duty.

Suddenly it's all clear again. Like waking from a dream. That part of things is over, and you made your choice.

"I should answer."

He backs away, strangely silent, giving you the space to sit up in bed and push your covers off.

The alert begins to repeat itself, and you step onto the floor, turning back toward him. "Will you still be here when I come back?"

He just looks at you, then behind you to the holocomm. "Take the call, darling. It could be important."

The sense in his words urges you on, and you hurry gracelessly out into the kitchen to catch the caller in time.

You had sent a short update about your "communications issues" many weeks ago, and since Obi Wan had returned without further delay, you'd gotten a brief message back about his safe arrival. If the council wanted to give you a new assignment, they would have left it in a message or sent the orders electronically. You can think of no reason for a direct call.

You release your apprehension into the Force and press the button to allow the call through. Mace Windu appears before you.

"Good evening, Commander. I am sorry to disturb you outside of your working hours." He gives too brief a pause for you to respond before continuing. "The council is requesting that you immediately report to Coruscant, and we needed to be sure of your availability."

You take a moment to let the information sink in before answering. By the slightest raise of his eyebrow, you realize you've gone too long without a response.

"Yes. Of course, Master. I am at your service."

He nods graciously. "Please depart within the next standard day. We will arrange for you to meet with the council as soon as possible."

"Yes, Master," you answer, without hesitation this time.

There's a long pause, and you realize he's not going to continue.

"Might I ask what this is about?"

"I am afraid all details will need to wait until you arrive," he replies.

"I understand."

"See you soon, Commander. And please, plan on an extended stay. "

You incline your head in a slight bow, and the transmission ends. The glow of the hologram fades into blackness where you're left staring, seeking answers where there are none.

You turn back to the bedroom, and as you'd slightly expected, it's empty. As you walk through the doorway, you whisper into the darkness.

"Obi Wan?"

Silence.

You wait. You close your eyes and reach out in the Force, where you sense nothing. Sitting on the bed, you cross your legs and begin to meditate on the image of the man you'd been trying to wipe from every corner of your mind.

You stretch out your consciousness to its furthest limits, finding nothing and hearing no one. Squeezing your eyes shut, you're determined to continue trying anyway.

Hours later, you've finally given in. Your heart is no longer racing, though your mind will continue to spin with the implications of both Obi Wan's visit and the council's order. You decide it's best for now to try and get some rest. And just as you begin to slip into the fog of sleep, you swear you can feel a familiar presence.

You hear your name as if called from a great distance; stretched across the stars. Blurring the lines of reality as you drift from the waking world, you hear the voice, closer now.

"You must tell me. Bring me the message the Force has sent you."

Falling into the warm blackness, you take in the words without responding, half-certain they're a dream.

"We will speak again soon, my dear."

When your journey to Coruscant finally ends, you exit the landing dock as if it's been an eternity since your last visit. Your legs feel unsteady beneath you, the Jedi temple looming over the rest of the skyline before you. You've had plenty of supply trips here, but this is different. This is coming home.

You've arrived early. Your meeting with the council isn't set until tomorrow, which will give you some time to check if your old quarters are still available and settle in for the night.

On your walk down the corridor, you take a moment to greet some old friends and catch up briefly. The tightness in your chest begins to unwind.

Until you hear the name you'd been hoping to avoid.

"Have you heard the news of your Master Kenobi and General Skywalker?"

Your master. That, he will forever be. It will be especially hard to ignore here, of all places.

You shake your head, and then you listen to the tale of the two Jedi heroes rescuing the chancellor from the clutches of the Separatists and defeating Count Dooku at last. The story is filled with brilliance and chaos - everything you would expect from the pair in question - and when it comes to an end, you politely thank your friend and smile at the comments saying how proud you must be; how lucky to have been his padawan. It brings a glow to your face, despite your best efforts of tamping down your pride and affection.

The galaxy's greatest hero. No surprises, there.

The conversation flows on, and when you've caught up on the latest reports of temple life and the war, you take your leave to locate your quarters. It's a bit of a relief when you find them unchanged from your time away. You decide to take your meal for the evening alone, a bit overwhelmed at the idea of dinner in the main hall - every old acquaintance no doubt dying to discuss your master.

As you fall asleep that night, a heavy weight seems to press down on your chest. You're exhausted from your trip and from the anxiety tugging at your mind about your meeting with the council. You keep your eyes closed, letting yourself drift into the welcoming current of the Force, reminding yourself to let it all go.

And yet, somehow, the weight worsens. It's like you're pinned to the bed. Your breath becomes tight and restricted. You try to open your eyes but you're sinking ever deeper into a black abyss, unable to awaken.

"Blast him!"

An eerily familiar voice calls out the command and you see his body plummet from the cliffside, careening through the air...

He's been shot down by a blaster cannon. He's falling, and there's nothing you can do. If only you could reach out. If only you could-

He will die.

Unless...

You gasp awake. The vision is gone.

You chase after it in your mind, reaching out desperately to the Force for answers. The harder you claw for the images to come back, the more quickly they seem to dissipate, like mist, swirling away from your touch.

You catch your breath, panting in the darkness.

The room is cold all night. Your sleep is fitful.

When the light is just beginning to hint at the horizon, you close the door to your quarters behind you. The gardens are usually quiet during this time of the morning, and though your body is aching from a mostly sleepless night, you think perhaps your mind can find rest in meditation, if the surroundings are a bit more suitable.

You're wrapped in full robes, walking down a familiar hallway when you catch sight of Master Windu leaving his quarters.

"Good morning, Master."

He greets you with a soft smile and a slight nod. "It's good to see you, Commander. How was your journey?"

"Long," you admit. "But it's nice to be back."

He turns to match your direction as you continue toward the gardens. "Your absence has been noticed. It's a shame your return was not under better circumstances."

You hesitate, then decide to use the opening. "Might I ask what circumstances have brought me back?"

"Unfortunately I am not at liberty to discuss it." He slows to a stop, facing you with hands folded beneath the long sleeves of his robe. "The good news is that Master Kenobi is expected to return from the senate ceremony early this evening, and then our meeting can commence."

"There's a ceremony today?"

His solemn expression seems to brighten a little. "Not even he can say no when the entire senate insists on a ceremony in his honor."

You quirk an eyebrow. "An afternoon with politicians?"

"Indeed. He didn't seem very enthused when Anakin informed him that they would both need to attend."

"I'm sure he was thrilled," you say, smiling. "And you must be very proud of your former padawan."

He lifts his chin. "Anakin... has become a very impressive Jedi. He has come far, and learned much."

It isn't quite an admission of pride, but then, you weren't expecting one. You nod in agreement. "It seems the senate would agree."

Master Windu doesn't mirror your affectionate smile regarding Anakin. He's never been one to overpraise the young man, but you're surprised when he stays completely silent. If you didn't know better, it would almost seem like a sore subject for the Jedi master.

His lack of response draws out until you decide to change the subject, turning toward the adjacent hall leading to the garden.

"I thought I would spend the day in meditation. I'll be visiting the gardens on the lower level if I'm needed," you tell him, smiling, while he gives you another unreadable expression in response. "I look forward to our meeting, Master."

"Be well, Commander."

You note that he didn't reciprocate your eagerness for the meeting, either. You decide not to dwell on it, and take your leave.

Master Windu has a lot on his mind at all times, let alone at this critical point in the war. You all do.

When you turn the corner, your feet are suddenly held in place. With the sight before you, it's as if gravity has become insurmountable.

Obi Wan is sweeping down the corridor, looking as if he's stepped directly from the pages of Jedi legends.

You haven't seen his ceremonial regalia since early in the war, and you'd nearly forgotten how incredible he looks in it. 'Handsome' is a word that falls short in every way, and yet it's the word running rampant through your head, replacing all other thoughts at the moment.

He's wearing full armor, brilliant white in all the places it isn't marred with battle damage. The shining golden pins on his chest plate hold in place a long, flowing cape which is draped behind his broad shoulders. His face is stoic, but his eyes are bright. He walks with the type of swagger that you imagine gives even non-Force users an idea of the latent power he holds.

You suppress your own signature, stepping into the recessed doorway to a closet where gardening supplies are kept. There's quite some distance between you - there's a good chance you could still make it to the exit where the lower level gardens begin without him seeing you. Blaming your lack of sleep for your questionable judgement, you stay still, watching him for a moment longer.

A padawan - a human boy - scampers down the hallway toward Obi Wan, skidding to an awkward stop a few feet behind him and forcing himself into long, dutiful strides. He carries a datapad, and when Obi Wan turns around to look at him, he seems to nearly drop it.

"Good- good morning, Master," the young man stammers, glancing down at the floor as he hurries to catch up. He reaches out, offering up the pad. "I was told to bring you the new seating chart for the ceremony."

Obi Wan slows to a stop, thanking the boy as he takes it. After a quick glance, he makes a 'tsk' sound between his teeth. "Of course, he must he seated next to the Chancellor..."

He seems to be mumbling to himself, but the young man tenses at his irritation. "Sir?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing, nothing." Obi Wan raises a hand to wave off the comment, then finally glances up to see the padawan's face. It's striken with nerves.

It's not like it had been in the old days of the temple, when masters spent much of their time with the younglings. Nowadays, serving on the front lines means that most Jedi don't encounter the younger generation until they join the battle. Many of them have become more like stories than flesh and blood. This padawan clearly hadn't thought of this as a normal errand.

At last, Obi Wan seems to notice, looking down at him.

"What's your name, young one?" he asks with a slightly softened voice.

"Jeerick, sir."

"Thank you for bringing this to me, Jeerick."

The boy smiles, bowing his head slightly. The padwan is probably not yet attuned enough to the Force to feel the way Obi Wan is calming him like a frightened bantha. But you can sense the subtle shift in the air when he extends a bit of comfort.

"Will you and your master be attending the ceremony as well?" he asks, handing back the datapad.

Shaking his head, Jeerick looks down at his hands. "No, I have an assignment with the younglings today."

"Ah. No doubt a better use of your time than an afternoon of long-winded speeches."

That earns a small smile. Jeerick seems to hesitate - perhaps working up the courage to say something else. When Obi Wan bows politely and turns to go, Jeerick finally blurts, "Master Kenobi, is it, um, true what they say? That you blew up a whole Separatist fleet and saved the Chancellor?"

Obi Wan raises an eyebrow. "Oh, dear. I hope that isn't what they're saying in the training halls. I'm afraid General Skywalker did most of the heavy lifting. I was barely involved."

As deferential and magnanimous as always. Some things will never change.

"Oh," says the padawan, nodding. "I see."

A whisper of a smile touches Obi Wan's mouth. "But as for the Separatists... it wasn't quite the whole fleet. I had to leave some for the rest of my men."

A grin lights up Jeerick's face again.

"Run along, now. Mustn't keep the younglings waiting."

"Yes, Master!"

Your smile mirrors Obi Wan's as you watch the padawan hurry on his way. You take the opportunity with Obi Wan's back turned to slip out of the doorway and make it to the exit. Your footfalls are soft and careful, and when you're far enough away, you look over your shoulder one last time.

He's beautiful, truly. You wish you could tell him just how magnificent he is.

Instead, you step out into the gardens and put distance between you as quickly as you can. You let out a soft sigh when you finally allow yourself to sit and relax, easing into your meditation, hoping the Force will help you pass the time without feeling every minute of it. Unfortunately, you're already well aware your hope is futile.

Knowing that you'll be presenting yourself before the council with Obi Wan presiding had been hard enough. Knowing he'll be looking like that while doing it...

You close your eyes, sending a silent prayer to the Force for strength.

For strength, and for a short meeting.

A/N: For anyone who might be interested, I have a new, short, multi-chapter Obi Wan/Reader fic that will be straight smut with very little plot called Concessions. The first chapter is up here and on AO3.

As always, thanks for your support and readership. It is very much appreciated!

Tag List: @cosmicsierra @projectdreamwalker @guacam011y @thriving-n-jiving @reverieisaway @cursedfaechild @honeymoon7770 @cool-ontherun-world @ladytano420 @eddythewitch @immajustvibehere @thegreatwicked @marrily @millercontracting

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#obi wan x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #fanfic

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pomplalamoose · 3 days

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mkay soooo what if when the rebellion was living on hoth u and (like late anh!luke or esb!luke both would be cute lwk) went to a more tropical planet w lots of beaches tghr whilst looking for more possible bases and of course you guys just happen to get stranded n day a few vacation days on the beach!

but since luke is from tatooine n there’s barely even water in the AIR he’s never seen in a girl—specifically you, in a bikini. and since you guys have been on hoth for a time he’s never even seen you in a t shirt. like you just “what’s wrong” n he’s as red as a tomato.

anyway what i’m trying to say is you two making out in the beach n then leads to beach sex please please please oh my god. and don’t hold back on the gross details

18+ !!!

cw: a little bit of pining, a little bit of fluff, eventual smut, like seriously, mdni!

• initially you think nothing of it when the unbearable heat forces you to remove your jacket

• too great is the relief of feeling the gentle breeze cool your sweaty skin that you fail to notice the way your exposed arms seem to impact Luke

• Luke who is trying his hardest to be respectful, who is giving his best not to stare

• Luke who fails spectacularly

• Luke who, upon you sensing his distress and turning around, turns beet red and wide eyed, looking away immediately

• "it's just a pair of arms", he tries to tell himself staring down at his feet in the sand

• this certainly is nothing he hasn't seen before

• Force, he intimatedly knows what a person looks like naked and you are nowhere even near that state, he needs to get it together!

• though no matter how plausible he makes it sound in his head, the reality is, in fact, a lot harder to deal with

• because it's not "just" a pair of arms

• it's yours and he can barely tear his gaze away

• he can't quite recall the moment in which he first let his thoughts wander and they settled on you, doesn't remember when it was that he first started wondering how you'd look under all that thick winter clothing necessary to survive on Hoth

• only, that he never got the chance to hold your hand in his without those damned gloves on

• that it was never a possibility to even touch your face

• that your body was nothing more than an illusion he made up for himself during his countless daydreams

• only, that he half-feared you'd simply disappear into a cloud of cold air without all those warm layers keeping you tightly wrapped together

• but now, sitting before him, is a picture he'd nearly didn't dare to hope ever laying his eyes upon

• there you are, in nothing but a T-shirt and pants, and so close, so real, he desperately wants to reach out his hands

• he longs to finally find out how you feel

• he wants to trace his fingers up and down your arms for no particular reason, wants to touch every single freckle and mole he can find

• is your skin as soft as it looks?

• is the fine hair he sees shimmering in the sunlight when you move a certain way?

• when you raise your arms to fix your windswept hair, so does the hem of your shirt, revealing a sliver of your mid-riff and Luke nearly explodes

• he's at a loss for words, completely helpless in light of your beauty

• there's nothing more except the need to latch on to you and never let go again

• of course, at this point, you would eventually come to realize your appearance's effect; Luke is not being what one would call subtle and the love-drunk look in his eyes is hard to miss

• "have you been to the water yet?" you ask gently, feeling a little shy at being gazed at so intently, hoping to focus his attention on something else

• it works

• Luke, absolutely clueless and very happy to follow you everywhere you want to go is concerned immediately

• "wait, wait...do you know how to swim?"

• of course you do and he's so relieved until he remembers he can't

• imagine his face when he eventually admits to it

• the slight crease between his eyebrows, his unhappy, nearly upset frown

• how is he supposed to keep up with you now?

• how is he supposed to keep you safe?

• imagine his smile returning like the sun rising in the morning when you assure him you don't mind

• you only want to dip in your feet, would he not like to join you?

• imagine his eager nod, the delight in his eyes at the foreign sensation when he's finally standing beside you

• imagine the giggle that escapes him at how the water draws back and returns swiftly with every gentle wave

• at how it washes around his feet, how it feels when he wriggles his toes in the wet sand

• imagine Luke's surprise, the light shock, when you splash him, the droplets suddenly raining down all over him

• then his delight, the childish excitement

• he wasn't aware this was something you, and he too, could do!

• before you know it he's chasing you down the beach trying to get back at you

• with his long legs and ability to move over sand much faster than you are, you don't stand much of a chance

• though of course this doesn't stop you from fighting back as soon as he gets to you and it's not long after that both of you are sopping wet

• imagine him laughing freely, something you don't think you've seen him do before

• your heart beats faster

• it's when you're both out of breath, staring each other down to gauge your next movements, that the mood, so playful before, switches

• you can't put your finger on when it happened, can't explain how, but the dynamic between you has changed

• like your little game helped Luke make up his mind, emboldened him even, his blushy look and adoringly shy eyes are no more

• instead you're faced with a determination that raises goosebumps all over your skin, as he slowly makes his way towards you, his strong thighs parting the water with every step

• you don't know where to look

• not when he's suddenly this close to you, so close you can smell the salt on his skin and the wind in his hair

• carefully, as if afraid to scare you away, he reaches out, starts to run the fingers of his right hand up and down your left forearm

• you let him

• his gentle touch makes you shudder and unbelievably so he moves even closer, drinking in your subtle reactions

• "Luke I-"

• your voice is breathy, a little unstable

• but when you turn your head aside in embarrassment, he's quick to reach for your chin

• for a moment it's quiet, words simply eluding you in the face of your confusion and desire

• it's Luke who finally speaks again, who voices aloud what you had been thinking about, secretly hoping for, all along

• "please, may I kiss you?"

• and then, nearly inaudible, with such longing that it makes your heart ache, "just this once?"

• and all you can give in return is a nod

• imagine the light in his eyes, brighter even than the most radiant of stars, as he cups your face in his large hands and touches his lips to yours

• imagine how he slowly, so very slowly, pulls back, clearly not wanting the moment to end already

• imagine the look in his eyes, a look that seems to silently plead for more

• and the relief when he finds the immediate answer in yours

• imagine the gasp that escapes you when he finally, unabashedly, dares to take initiative and pulls you flush against him with a jolt

• imagine the pure joy that arises at being kissed like this, with such fervor and enthusiasm it weakens your knees, for once silencing your mind

• imagine the deep sense of peace that comes with being held so closely in strong arms as if they never plan on letting you go again

• you feel safe

• the persistence and thoroughness with which Luke continues to explore your mouth surprises you

• he kisses like he's starving, like he can't get enough

• like he may never get the chance to taste you again

• like he's afraid you're going to stop him any moment now

• meanwhile nothing could be further from your mind and it is without hesitation that you follow his lead, that you let him place you down upon the warm sand as if on the softest, most luxurious bed made just for you

• quickly his lips are on yours again and it's not long before they start to wander, to explore your features and limbs as leisurely as his hands do

• mesmerized, like in a trance, Luke traces the lines of your body, peppers kisses to every inch of you he can reach, his excitement at the ability to draw soft sighs and moans from you palpable

• soon unintelligible pleas start to spill from your lips as your arousal heightens with every passing minute

• you're growing desperate, are aching for more, for his deft fingers between your thighs

• but despite Luke's hardened length pressing insistently against his wet pants and repeatedly brushing along your upper legs, he makes no move to fulfill your wish nor to sate his own desires

• not even when you experimentally roll your hips upwards in hopes of gaining at least a little bit of friction

• he's not done exploring yet

• his attention focuses on your chest instead and you have no other choice but to continue clenching around nothing as he tentatively licks and, at length, begins to suck your nipples into his mouth until you're ready to cry out in frustration

• covered in sweat, the sand has begun to cling to your skin, rubbing against you with even the smallest of your movements and you're not sure what to make of it

• you're overwhelmed, helplessly overstimulated, almost wishing for it to stop

• though when Luke presses his knee in between your legs, giving you the chance to grind against him, it's suddenly not enough

• it's not nearly enough and your impatience finally exceeding your shame, the urge to beg becomes too strong to withhold

• for his touch, his fingers

• his cock

• "please Luke. Please just- just fuck me already"

• this catches Luke off guard though he remains silent, takes time to observe your shaking legs, your flush, quivering skin, the quick rise and fall of your chest, your wet eyes

• it shakes him out of his revery, like your words only now led him back into the present moment, made him realize for how long he's been toying with you

• how painfully desperate he is to seek his own release

• truly, he has no intention of leaving you like this, on the brink of an orgasm and close to tears

• but he's stalling, he knows, holding back, unsure of how to proceed and afraid to hurt you

• what if you're not ready to take him yet?

• lost in thought his fingers move gently along the waistband of your underpants until they dip lower in wonder, his knuckles slowly grazing over the wet spot where your dripping arousal has soaked into the fabric

• he is the reason for this, the reason for your pleasure, he realizes

• and he wants you, has wanted you for a very long time

• having made up his mind he carefully pushes a finger deep inside of you, pleasantly surprised at how easy you allow him entrance

• "no", he breathes when you try to strip off your panties to better grant him access

• "I want you like this"

• Luke makes you cum several times before even considering to free his cock from its confines

• too deeply does he enjoy your cries and twitches growing in intensity to accept for pleasure of his own to distract from it

• too hypnotizing it is to watch his fingers disappear into you again and again until they're deeply coated and practically dripping with your arousal

• too satisfying are the obscene squelching sounds that arise, louder and louder the faster he drives into you

• if it were up to him he would continue like this forever, unbothered by his own urges, content to simply watch

• though as you grow tired he eventually takes mercy

• he fucks you until you're close to passing out with pleasure, your face held tightly between his hands

• until your back is sore with being rubbed over the sandy ground over and over and over again

• until there's sand everywhere, in places you don't even dare to think about right now, and your legs are quivering from how long you had to keep them this far apart

• until he is panting, ruthlessly chasing his orgasm with hard, fast thrusts that shake your entire body and cause your eyes to roll into the back of your head

• until tears are streaming down your face and not even the sounds of the crashing waves are able to drown out the wet slapping noises when his hips meet yours in a near frenzy as he buries himself balls-deep in your throbbing heat

A/N: I'm so excited I finally, FINALLY had the time to work on this request!! Really, I couldn't get it out of my head since you first sent it in and not being able to write it all down immediately was pure torture😩

Thank you for your patience! I hope you don't mind the way this turned out to be a little fluffier than anticipated, I just couldn't help it. I love my Luke being desperately head over heels for the reader <33

#ask #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke star wars #luke skywalker smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars a new hope #star wars empire strikes back #star wars return of the jedi #star wars smut

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renlyslittlerose · 2 days

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Heartbeat Drives You Mad - Chapter 12

Tags: Alternate Universe - 1980s / Getting Together / Explicit Sexual Content / Depression / Grief/Mourning / Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism / Older Man/Younger Man / Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms / Loneliness / Anakin Skywalker in Booty Shorts and Tube Socks / Codependency/ This Fic is a Horny Depressing Mess / Just Like Obi-Wan Summary: Anakin was wearing his customary shorts - blue with yellow banding today - and a cut-off shirt. He was dark all over, skin an even deeper shade of brown that made him look like liquid honey and bronze, supple yet sturdy. The sun had bleached his hair, bringing out the blond tucked away in the brown strands, curls on top of curls shimmering like spun gold. He leaned back next to Obi-Wan, hot against his side and smelling of cigarettes, clean sweat, and the sun. — After a devastating loss that Obi-Wan can’t seem to recover from, he decides to pack up his life and move to a small lazy town on the outskirts of a desert. Depressed and alcoholic, Obi-Wan figures fucking his pain away with the pretty nineteen year old neighbour boy is a good idea. Turns out, it is anything but a good idea.

Thank you to @tideswept for the moodboard 💖

#obikin #star wars fanfiction #lemon fanfiction

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midnightdjarin · 10 hours

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Crosshair enemies to lovers drabble cause why not 🤭

- Crosshair is DEFINITELY enemies to lovers like cmon don’t lie. The two of you would CONSTANTLY argue but like the kind of arguing where when he finished yelling he would stare at your lips a lil bit AHHH😫 ALSO the banter would be crazy

The two of you had argued at least 18 times on this mission. After walking through the forrest for what seemed like days, crosshair turns to you, who happens to be walking a few feet behind.

“Struggling to keep up, pretty?”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

He takes the toothpick out of his mouth, “I don’t think so. I have too much fun watching you squirm.”

“I do not squirm”, you insisted.

He stops walking and turns to you completely, “You’re playing with your shirt sleeves and your face is pink. Thats squirming”, he puts the toothpick back between his teeth.

You smirk, “It’s so flattering that you’ve memorized my body language, you must pay an awful lot of attention to me.”

He said nothing and turned back around to catch up with the group.

You stay a few feet behind but were still able to hear everyone laugh after hunter muttered, “She got you there.”

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freesia-writes · 1 day

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Hunter and Omega Hiking to the Waterfall!

For Chapter 33 of Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt! 🥹

Another check off the Fanart Wish List!! 😭❤️

Giant thanks to @acryliccassetteart for this one!!

How sweet is this?! Omega's adorable eager little face... the gorgeous setting... beautiful colors... Y'all BLESS ME so much and I'm so excited to showcase the many amazing artists who have contributed!!

@lightwise @have-a-hiddles @sverdgeir @roam-rs @littlemissmanga

@dystopicjumpsuit @523rdrebel @solstraalaa @skellymom @photogirl894

@reader6898 @moonstrider9904 @hipwell @lamiliani @catoo

@ilarria @padawancat97 @yve-barr @lucyysthings @flowered-bicycles

@maddiedrmr @techhasmjolnir @arctrooper69 @spicy-clones @ezras-left-thumb

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars fanart #tbb fanart #bad batch #the bad batch fanart #bad batch fanart #hunter fanart #omega fanart #beyond the shadow of a doubt #hunter fanfiction #hunter x oc #tbb fanfic #hunter fic #star wars the bad batch #star wars fanfiction

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roughdaysandart · 2 days

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HEY MANDALORIAN CREATORS AGAIN!!! FREE RAZOR CREST PINTEREST BOARD FOR Y'ALL.

YES I WENT TRHOUGH ALL 3 SEASONS AND TOOK HELLA SCREENSHOTS BECAUSE PINTEREST DIDNT HAVE ENOUGH.

Also, my Rough Day comic idea boards are on that profile too, if any of yall like that 'behind the scenes' thing! Still organizing though...its gotten way too big and I may need to make another board JUST for environments etc...I already have a board just for chapters and one for general construction lol...its gotten way too big.

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wanderingjedihistorian · 2 days

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Chapters: 1/9 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, Alpha-17 & CC-2224 | Cody Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex, Alpha-17 (Star Wars), CC-10/994 | Grey, CC-1010 | Fox, ARC-77 | Fordo, CC-1138 | Bacara, Original Jedi Characters, Original Clone Trooper Characters - Character, CT-5597 | Jesse, Clone Trooper Wooley (Star Wars), The Bad Batch - Character, Alpha class troopers, Clone Commander Monnk (Star Wars), CC-2237 | Davijaan | Odd Ball Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Order 66 Happened Differently (Star Wars), Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Treason, Rescue Missions, Clone Cadets, Clone Trooper Inhibitor Chips (Star Wars), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Break, Angst and Feels, plotting and planning, How to rescue and de-chip a planet's worth of clones, Survivor Guilt, Guilt, Anger, Coming to terms with everything that has happened Series: Part 5 of The Road to Risk and Rebellion

Summary: The time has finally come to rescue the young clones on Kamino.

#my writing #star wars fanfiction #road to risk and rebellion au

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sashketter · 12 hours

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Passing Stars (Chapter 1)

Summary: Din Djarin meets Omega.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Mild violence (blaster bolts, two implied deaths)

Notes: This takes place after The Book of Boba Fett and maybe before season 3 of The Mandalorian, I haven’t decided yet. I've actually had this idea since season 1 of The Bad Batch, wrote it all out last year when TBB and Mando overlapped for a month, and then forgot about it 💀 Now that TBB is ending, I wanted their story to continue. For ease of convenience, I’m ignoring Favroni's weird naming convention and keeping Din as his first name.

Din couldn’t believe it. For years, he had evaded stormtroopers, warlords, gangsters, and smugglers, carefully plotting his movements through the galaxy to minimize his chances of capture and complications. Whenever he found himself in a dog fight, shields down and cannons hot, he always found escape. This band of pirates, however, were unfamiliar to him. With the New Republic preoccupied with the Core and Mid Worlds, the Outer Rim remained the lawless frontier it had always been.

Din had stopped on a small planet to refuel the N-1 on his way back to Nevarro. The kid played in the grass while he looked over the ship, noting damage that could be handled later at better facilities. No point wasting more credits here, Din thought. Satisfied, he had knelt down to pick up Grogu when he felt something hard hit the base of his head, and everything went black.

He woke up sitting in a chair with his wrists tied together behind his back. Cool air met the ache in his jaw, and a chill ran throughout his body. He was in his flight suit, stripped of his helmet and armor. Anger and indignity flared on the edges of his hazy consciousness, but was soon replaced by sharp fear: Grogu was nowhere in sight.

With his heart beating in his ears, Din looked around the dingy room. He could make out a mix of Trandoshans and Weequays along the opposite wall, palming his Beskar like ancient artifacts, no doubt as rare and valuable as kyber crystals. He saw a door on the far side of the room just as a fist connected with his left temple. He was jerked to his feet, heavy as his battered head, towards the door and down a narrow corridor. Hyperspace flickered outside the portside windows.

“Put him in the brig with the girl,” a voice behind him said to the one holding his handcuffs.

“Together?” Din didn’t appreciate his captor’s tone.

“No, you karking scughole.” A muffled punch mingled with the sound of the lift doors opening. “In an empty one.”

Din was surprised by the size of the brig. Ship’s not big, he calculated. The edges of his vision were still blurry, but he could make out at least eight cells descending from a long, central platform, four on each side. The third on the right glowed red. When they stopped in front of it, he peered through the ray shield while his captor, one hand on his wrists, opened the opposing cell.

“Got company for ya, doll.” The pirate turned around and saw no one through the ray shield. “What?”

Shoved down five short steps to the floor of his cell, Din landed on his side, too sore and dazed to get up and see the pirate hurry to the other cell. He heard the opposing ray shield open as his closed. A few seconds of silence followed before sounds of a scuffle echoed across the platform. Din heard grunts and sharp blows land before the distinct sound of a neck snapping. He got to his feet, arms fused to his sides. He didn’t think to call out, still unused to the prolonged feel of air on his face and injuries.

Looking up through the flickering entrance of his cell, he saw a small shadow emerge on the platform. He couldn’t see her eyes grow wide with the discovery of another prisoner. She hurried to the panel next to his door and opened the ray shield.

“Are you alright,” she asked as he stood motionless at the bottom of the steps. “Are you hurt?”

She noticed his arms before he could answer. Her mouth opened and her right index finger shot up before she disappeared from view. As she made her way back down into her cell, Din tiptoed out of his. They reached the platform at the same time.

“Turn around,” she said, flashing the keys to his cuffs in her palm. The pirate’s blaster was tucked under her arm. He turned reluctantly, wary of being unarmed.

“You’re not hurt,” she pressed, concerned by his silence.

Din fumbled for words but finally coughed, “N-no, I’m fine.” He felt air on his wrists. “Thank you.”

“Good,” she said as he turned to face her. “I’m Meg.”

He hesitated, surprised by her friendliness. “Din.”

He looked down at her. Blonde hair curtained brown eyes where it wasn’t pulled back in a long braid that fell over her left shoulder. She was slight, yet strong and capable enough to overpower a Trandoshan alone. How’d they manage to knock her out, Din wondered. She also wore a flight suit, black and frayed at the hems.

She nodded. “I take it you didn’t come like this,” she asked. She held the blaster in both hands and motioned for him to follow her down the platform. On the wall past the empty cells was a panel with a monitor.

“Can you shoot,” she asked, grabbing the barrel of the blaster and pointing the handle towards Din. He stared at her a beat too long - she trusts too easily - before taking it and positioning his back to the wall.

With one hand on the wall next to the monitor, Meg started tapping on the panel’s keys, looking for schematics of the ship.

“They took my armor,” Din confessed. “And my child.”

“They separated you?” Meg’s fingers came off the panel briefly as her eyebrows scrunched and her head turned halfway towards Din. “That’s odd.” She shook her head and returned to the panel.

“There,” she said after a moment, pointing to the command deck on a map of the ship. Din turned to look at the monitor. “Looks like they’re holding your kid on the bridge. And your armor,” she moved her finger in an L shape over two corridors, “should be there with mine.”

Before he could ask, a blaster bolt sparked across the left corner of the monitor. Din and Meg ducked and turned around to face three pirates stumbling through closing doors. Din sent a bolt through the chest of one, the bottle of nog in his hand flying and spilling on the walls.

~~~

Din dressed quickly. Nothing was missing or out of place, all whistling birds accounted for. They had no idea what they had, he mused. He checked his scanner and found the N-1 onboard.

“Did you come with a ship,” he yelled at the wall. He had his back to Meg who was hidden behind two rows of crates.

“Yes,” she offered breathlessly. “But I’m not going anywhere without my droid.”

Din scoffed quietly, but swallowed his scorn. “Is it that important?” He holstered his blaster and wondered if they should part ways now.

“You have no idea,” Meg said. “But we’ll get your kid first.”

Din started to turn in her direction but stopped, respectful of her privacy as she continued to dress. I guess I can trust her, he concluded. “Thank you.”

Before he could put his helmet on, he heard Meg exclaim, “You’re a Mandalorian! Haven’t seen one of you in awhile.”

He turned around to face her. She stood in the middle of the room with her helmet tucked under her left arm, its front painted to look like a skull. It and the rest of her armor was weathered black with red and white markings. Is she older than she looks, Din wondered. Her armor was clearly old. Maybe she stole it. And it was familiar, even similar to his.

“Interesting armor,” he said as he put his helmet on and walked past her to the door. No time for questions.

“Not as shiny as yours,” she chuckled before putting her helmet on, too. She followed close behind, vibroblade in one hand and blaster in the other.

These pirates seemed uninterested in strategy. The route to the bridge was unguarded. The few that crossed Din and Meg’s path seemed to have more stumbled in their direction than intentionally sought them out.

“Why are you stunning them,” Din growled as he clotheslined one pirate while shooting another. They don’t deserve mercy.

Meg was handling her own pair a few steps ahead. “I don’t want to hurt them!”

When they reached the bridge, they found the doors jammed.

“Cover me,” Meg instructed. Shuffling behind Din, she punched the air with her left arm and unsheathed a scomp link under her vambrance. She plugged in and maneuvered through the ship’s protocols until she unlocked the command deck doors.

They walked onto an empty bridge. Din and Meg’s helmets turned slightly towards each other, confusion suffusing the air. Ahead, they could see the ship was still in hyperspace. On the right, Grogu was perched on a control panel, eyes and ears downcast. As he looked up at the sound of footsteps, he squealed and put his arms up. Din rushed over.

“You alright, kid,” Din asked, picking Grogu up. It was Din’s turn to examine something priceless in his hands.

Meanwhile, oblivious to the reunion on her right, Meg rushed to a table on the left where a droid had been taken apart, its head and arms separated from its torso. Wires connected the head to a monitor where lines of code and information appeared and quickly crawled up the screen.

“Oh, AZ, what did they do to you,” Meg sighed. She cradled his head in her hands, and his eyes flickered on slowly.

“O-O-O-Omega?” His voice ascended quickly to its usual register.

“I’m here.” She seemed to take a moment of silence before remembering where she was. “It’s alright, I can fix you” she said as she put his head down and started unplugging wires. “We’ve been through worse.”

A short minute passed before AZ’s eyes were fully lit. “L-l-l-l-look who-who-who else is he-he-he-here.”

Meg turned around and saw Din with a small, green creature in his hands. Her mouth opened but couldn’t find words. She hurried her helmet off and onto the table. Grogu saw her face and jumped out of Din’s hands, squealing and scurrying across the floor as quickly as his little body could take him. She covered the remaining distance and met him in the open expanse of the bridge, scooping him up in her arms and squeezing him to her chest, her chin on his fuzzy head. Grogu cooed excitedly, happily.

“What are you- How-?” She still couldn’t find words. She pulled him away to smile down at him. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Din’s left foot came forward as his right hand jerked towards his blaster. They were smiling and laughing, momentarily forgetting him. He lowered his hand.

“You know each other,” he interrupted, more curious than cautious now.

Meg looked up. Delight dropped to disbelief as she eyed the Mandalorian, her face betraying her suspicion. “You said ‘your child’…”

Before Din could explain, Meg cradled Grogu in her left arm and aimed her blaster at Din’s T visor. The bolt whizzed past his helmet and sparked against the monitors behind him. His arms went up in surrender. Surprised, Meg looked down at Grogu. Recovering quickly from deflecting her shot, he motioned downward with his right hand and Forced Meg’s blaster out of her grip and onto the floor. Din lowered his arms and met her glare.

Without warning, the ship lurched forward and dropped out of hyperspace. The flickering lights through the viewport gave way to a golden haze from a yellow star far too bright to be at a safe distance. Before Din could register the panel behind Meg light up with each ejected escape pod, the proximity alert rang. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

#star wars #the mandalorian #the bad batch #din djarin #tbb omega #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #*#fic

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vodika-vibes · 19 hours

Note

Hi! Congrats for your follower event!! (Though I'm surprised you're not hiting 1k for now. Also surprised I did not miss it... but almost 😁).

Could you maybe indulge us with both Fox and Wolffe in ruby at sunrise?

Theirs

Summary: Sunrise is your favorite part of the day, because it’s the only time when your boys are solely yours. And you’re solely theirs.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader x Commander Wolffe

Word Count: 674

Prompts: Ruby - Passionate Love

Warnings: Both Fox and Wolffe are handsy.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I'm so tired, lol. Sorry if this isn't what you were expecting, but I hope you like it anyway.

You wake to the sun creeping across your bedroom. You forgot to close the curtain properly last night, which means that you’re awake and you're not likely to fall back to sleep.

A silent sigh falls from your lips as you roll from your side onto your back, and you stretch. You carefully stretch, the last thing you want to do is wake the men sleeping in the bed next to you.

Of course, you aren’t careful enough.

Wolffe releases a quiet groan as his mismatched eyes flutter open. The sleep fades from his eyes almost immediately as he sees that you’re eyes are open, and for a moment you’re envious that he’s able to be alert so quickly.

It takes you forty-five minutes and a cup of caf before you’re even half as alert as him.

A glance to the side shows that Fox has stirred awake as well, though he seems to be doing his best to try to fall back to sleep.

Wolffe chuckles, “We know you’re awake, vod.” He says, his voice low as he shifts closer to you, and drapes an arm around your waist, before he presses his nose against your bare shoulder.

“Shh. If I keep my eyes closed then the morning hasn’t arrived yet.” Fox counters, but even as he says that, he slides across the bed so that he’s pressed against your side, his lips pressing against your shoulder.

“You don’t have to wake up if you don’t want to Foxy,” You murmur, and his lips curl up into a small smile against you.

His eyes open, and he’s surprisingly alert for someone who was trying to fall back to sleep, “What? And let Wolffe have you all to himself?”

Wolffe releases a noise and smacks his twin with a pillow, “As if you don’t get to have her all to yourself when I’m off planet.”

“Not my fault that you’re a front line commander,” Fox counters as he effortlessly tugs you from Wolffe’s grip and pulls you flush against him, your back pressed against his chest and one of his legs sliding between yours.

“Yeah, yeah. Not like I had a choice in the matter.” Wolffe counters as his gaze drags down your bare body, now fully exposed to him with how Fox is holding you. He clicks his tongue, “We left bruises.” He notes as he brushes a thumb across your hip.

You yawn and try to snuggle back into your pillow, made easier by Fox propping the pillow up on his arm, “I don’t mind.”

Fox chuckles and nuzzles the back of your neck, “Ah, Princess, you’re so pliable for us in the morning.”

“I bet you’d let us do anything,” Wolffe agrees as he lightly trails his hand up your side to grip your chin. He leans in and brushes his lips against yours, a soft laugh falling from him as you try to deepen the kiss.

“She’s needy in the morning,” Fox confirms as he tightens his arms around you and presses a light kiss to your shoulder.

You pout, “It’s the only time of day when I don’t have to share you with your men.”

Two pairs of almost identical eyes soften at your words, and you squeak when Wolffe presses himself firmly against you. “Move your leg, vod.” Wolffe orders, his gaze locked with yours, “If this is the only time of day when our perfect cyar’ika gets us to herself, then we’d better make full use of it.”

Fox chuckles, his arms and legs moving slightly to make room for his twin, “So glad you agree.” He turns your head so that he’s able to catch your lips with his own, “And when we finish,” there’s a hint of promise in his voice, “We’ll make you breakfast, how’s that sound Princess?”

A small smile crosses your face as their hands, warm and familiar, slide across your body, mapping out the dips and curves that they have memorized at this point, “Sounds perfect~” You say with a sigh.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #commander fox x reader x commander wolffe #fox x reader x wolffe #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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iron-strangers · 19 hours

Text

we will raise warriors

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Female Jedi!Reader

Tags: Established Relationship, Mand’alor Din Djarin, PWP, Vaginal sex, Creampie

CW: Breeding Kink, No use of Y/N, Smut (MINORS DNI)

Length: 2.036 words

Read this on AO3: we will raise warriors

Link to the series on ao3, tumblr

“Happy love day!” You greet Din at the front door of your home by tackling him with a bear hug, armors and all, presenting a small gift, wrapped rather messily, with a huge, silly red bow on top. “Got you a little something, cyare!”

Din just walked into your home, a grand three-bedroom apartment-style room in the eastern wing of Keldabe Palace. I want to see the sunrise every morning, cyare, you had said when Din asked you to pick your family wing upon moving to the ancient, though newly renovated palace. Din had no preference. No actually, he’d prefer not to live in the old castle. He’d rather live in a house in the countryside, somewhere near a body of water, where he can enjoy nature with his family, away from the responsibility of being The Mand’alor. But anywhere is just as good if he has his beautiful riduur and their foundling with him , Din claimed.

You help your riduur to pull off his cape, hanging the long fabric on its stand near the door. Gone is the old and tattered one, replaced by a floor-length, crimson, soft fabric that more often than not got folded into a birikad for Grogu. You excitedly rush him towards the karyai , sitting him down on a couch and placing the gift in his hand. Not used to getting presents, Din eagerly removes his helmet before pulling the red ribbon off, revealing a small T-shaped metal in a transparent box. He stares at it with a puzzled look on his face before looking back up at you with his head tilted sideways.

“Is this, uh, a new bullet?”

”It is not a bullet, don't you dare to load it into your blaster,” You scold, snatching the box from your riduur's hand. “You remember how we’ve talked about trying for a baby? We’ve been planning it for a while, and then there was that time when we kinda, you know, get excited about it in the throne room?” Oh yeah, Din can’t forget that one, nuh-uh , top ten moment of his life. “So, here it is. This is an IUD, mine. It’s my birth control. I went to the healer this morning to take it out.”

Din stutters, his eyes wide open, looking back and forth at you and the IUD, so expressive behind his helmet, trying to process what he just heard. You smile at him patiently, your hands steady on his shoulder, rubbing tight circles with your thumbs, giving him some time to process the news. A few seconds later, the frown morphs into a smile, a huge grin now adorning his handsome face as he then pulls you to his lap and claims your lips in a flurry of hungry kisses. His hands come up to your jaw to cup your face, holding you ever-so-gently as he peppers your face with kisses, stealing giggles out of you.

“How soon can we start?” Din asks eagerly, beaming to you like a verd’ika who just got his first set of beskar’gam, holding you by your ass and lifting you both from the couch, ignoring your protests, holding tightly around his neck.

“Well, my healer said it might take a few weeks to purge the hormones outta my system, but she also said that anything can happen,” You shrug, absently playing with the tuft of hair reaching his neck, he needs a haircut, you duly noted. “Anyways, the elders are begging for us to start training heirs already, so how about you give us what we all want and fuck a baby into me, ner Mand'alor ?” You lean in to whisper playfully, lightly nibbling on his earlobe.

You watch with a smirk when Din is, once again, completely at a loss for words. His pupils are dark with desire and you can feel him starting to harden in his pants against the swell of your ass. Smirking, you grind down on his growing erection, earning a groan from him, always so easy to tease. “Cyar'ika,” He warns you, pressing your back against the bedroom wall.

“But we all know how much you want to,” you tease, trailing your hand down his beskar-covered chest all the way to the tenting length straining his flightsuit pants. “Want me all soft and pregnant, looking absolutely yours . Your riduur, your baby- Oh !”

Din throws you on the bed, ignoring your squeals. He immediately crawls on top of you and pins you down with a kiss. His hand sneaks down to pull your armors off one by one. He studies you thoroughly, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing his left vambrace that you have worn since your riduurok. He brushes your robes aside, sliding his hand down your belly, admiring your body for a moment. You take his gloves off, wanting to feel your riduur's blaster-calloused fingers on your skin. Your breath catches and the feeling of his hands on you makes you shudder. His middle finger slips beneath the panties and between your slick folds.

“So fucking wet for me, cyar’ika.” Din's lips are back on yours, swallowing your gasps as he circles your sensitive nub. You break the kiss with a sob when you feel Din gathering up your slick on his fingers and he nudges his thick fingers into your heat. You gasp as he slides his fingers deep, crooking his fingers into your sweet spot.

“Right there, Din,” you whine, throwing your head back onto the bed. Your riduur’s hand travels up, cupping your breast and rubbing the pad of his thumb over your pebbled nipple, pulling and pinching. He watches as you chew on your lower lip, trying to stave off your moans.

“Fuck mesh’la , I can’t wait until these are filled with milk. Aching and leaking all day long until I can milk you dry.” Din leans closer to you, rolling your nipple with his tongue. His mouth closes around you and he sucks hard while his other fingers are still leisurely pumping in and out of you, ignoring your pleas.

“Please what, cyar'ika? Where's that smart mouth now, hmm?”

“Please fuck me! Need you to come inside, fill me up with our verd’ika, please, ner alor- ah!”

Din swears hearing your needy whines, eager to give whatever his riduur's wants. He pulls his fingers out of you and taps your drenched folds with the tip of his cock. Din growls, he has denied himself for way too long, tucking his face in the crook of your neck he buries himself all the way into you in one thrust, knocking the breath out of you.

“Force, you fill me up so fucking good .” You moan, letting your head fall down the pillow and grabbing a fistful of the sheet as Din immediately pounds into you. Your walls flutter around his girth, struggling to take him.

Din burns with desire and his primal need to breed takes over. One rough snap of his hips makes you scream as the head of his cock nudges your sweet spot just right, severing the connection to your brain for a moment.

“Yes, please, Mand'alor, please fuck a baby into me, wanna make you a buir.”

“You like that, cyar’ika?” He leans down, kissing your sweaty temples. You nod, trapped underneath your riduur, wailing and begging and taking everything Din is giving you. He claims your lips and kisses every plea from your mouth before he pulls back, indulging himself by staring down where his cock is buried inside of you. His length is wet and sticky with your arousal and his pre-cum, making him growl and pace himself harder, faster, rougher.

“I know how much you want it, rid'ika- fuck , look at you, made such a mess on my cock, mesh’la. You don’t want me to stop fucking this pussy until you’re all round and swollen with my ad’ika, huh?”

“Manda - Soak my cock, mesh'la, c'mon, gonna get you all wet and pregnant.” he snarls, spitting filthy promises as he thrust harder. “That’s it, cyar’ika. Keep on squeezing me like that, sweet girl. Not gonna stop fucking this tight pussy until you're all nice and full with our verd'ika.”

“Yes, yes, fuck yes, Din, cyare,” you moan, rolling your hips greedily. “Wanna give you a baby, Din. Come inside me, please. Please give me your cum, oh, Force-”

Din can’t control himself any longer, he growls gutturally, his fingers digging into your hips as his pace grows sloppier and he shoots the first of his hot, heavy load deep inside of you, holding you hard against his front and rutting his hips as he pumps his seeds into your willing womb. The feeling of Din's seeds flooding your insides is overwhelming, your mind is whiting out, legs trembling and you’re cumming hard, milking the thick shaft, enticing him to pump more loads into you until it leaks down your thigh.

“Don't waste any drop now, cyar’ika.” Din hums, grinning and kissing on your jaw. Slowly he eases himself out of you and watches his cum dripping out of you. He tuts with dismay, gently fingering it back into your puffy cunt, then he gives you his fingers to suck clean.

You settle in his arms, making out with him lazily when he pulls away and smiles, his hand a comforting weight on your tummy. His smile gives you butterflies. Running your fingers up and down his forearm, you beam to him and he almost tips over with the weight of his love and adoration for you.

“I'm so excited,” you whisper softly, admiring the blissful look on your riduur’s face as he sounds his agreement and presses a tickling kiss on your nose. Din plays with your hair, brushing the strands sticking on your sweaty forehead back. “Mesh’la? I like the name Aranar,” Din thinks, and you beam at him, nodding and testing the name on your tongue.

The sun is setting, painting a beautiful glow on both his and your mismatched vambraces. There's a peaceful silence between you, the sound of his breathing evening out lulls you to sleep, almost swallowing you into a slumber when you remember something-

“Oh, I have another present for you, an actual present!”

Din tries to protest, claiming you’ve already given him the best present in the galaxy when you shush him, levitating an equally small box from the side table. You open the box, revealing two identical keys on a plush velvet. Din eyes you curiously, picking one key up.

“Remember that one house we saw near your covert?”

“The one with the big yard near the pond? Did you- No, cyar’ika!”

“It’s ours! No, listen to me,” you huff when your riduur tries to protest again. “We can’t live in the palace forever, Din. I won’t let you to. You don’t like it here, and therefore, neither do I. I figured we’d stay here until Mandalore is stable enough, or until we’ve reached about seventy percent of our rebuilding goal, then we’ll move out. We’ll get speeders to get here every morning, show our adi’ke around, then we’ll come home when the day is done, to a place where the Council of Alor can't steal you away from me. We can make it work, my love.”

Din stares at you adoringly with his big brown eyes, too overwhelmed with the weight of your love to honestly do or say anything other than holding you close and kissing you, caressing your jaw lovingly with each kisses, murmuring a soft thank you over and over again against your lips. “I’ve never- No one’s ever do this much for me,” he mumbles, holding your hand to his heart. “You don’t like it here too? Why don’t you tell me?”

“Oh cyare, you deserve the world and you gave so much for me and our foundling, so of couse I will try to give you a place we both can call home, where we can watch our aliit grows,” You lean into his touch, nuzzling his hand with your jaw, offering him a smile. “And no, I don’t like this place, the force ghosts of previous Mand’alors are creeping me the fuck out!”

“THE WHAT NOW?”

Mando'a translations

Karyai: main living room of a traditional mandalorian house

Riduur: Spouse

Birikad: Baby harness

Mand’alor: Ruler of mandalorians

Alor: Leader

Cyare / cyar’ika: beloved

Riduurok: Love bond / Marriage agreement

Mesh’la: Beautiful

Verd’ika: Little warrior

Aranar: Defend

#expanding clan mudhorn #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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