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absurdthirst · 6 months

Text

Vivid {Mando x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN, dubious consent, fuck or die, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69, face sitting, blindfolds, sex in the dark, vaginal sex, rough sex, overstimulation, cream pie, cum eating, masturbation

Comments: A chance encounter in the canyon just beyond Din's little house on Nevarro leads to a sticky situation. A vivid pink flower, a powerful aphrodisiac, and a need to fuck has Mando bringing you home.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The changes around Nevarro are….nice. The little house that was deeded to Din is far enough away from town that he doesn’t feel crowded, yet it’s close enough that he can walk Grogu to the little school that he had enrolled him in. His journeys needed to include more socialization than bounty hunters, killer droids and Mandalorians. He needed to be able to move throughout many different cultures respectfully and what better place to learn than school?

Din’s own education happened in the Fighting Corps. Effective, but he had a mind to raise his adoptive son and apprentice better than his own teacher had. Especially since Grogu had an advantage that he had never wielded, the force.

“No Grogu,” Din shakes his head and sighs softly as the fifty year old baby tries once again to float his little school pack off the shelf to where he is sitting. Wanting to go to school, even though it’s the weekend. “There is no school today.”

****

It had been a long day so far, you’d run your usual errands and finished a few tasks around your home. A few of the children in your class had been requesting some more painting time during the week, and never one to dim anyone’s excitement for the arts, you couldn’t say no.

You like to make sure that art class is just as educational as it is fun, so you grabbed your book of plants and flowers and got ready to make your way out of town to collect and pick some plants and flowers for the kids to paint and learn to identify.

The cool breeze was welcomed as you began your trip, a wicker basket hanging comfortably from the crook of your elbow as you made your way through the town, greeting everyone politely and with a warm smile as you did so.

You like Nevarro. Especially as of recent, the town was much friendlier and a new sense of community had fallen across the planet.

After a brief chat with one of your overexcited students and his parents you continued your walk while nibbling on some fresh fruit from a stall you had passed.

The kid is passed out in the little bed that Din had bought for him, the Mandalorian steps out of the house, striding off towards the canyon. He needs to tune his blaster, having replaced the plasma cartridge earlier. The domesticity is unusual, but he likes it, a set schedule and a home to make meals in. It’s oddly appealing, even though he does often wonder how the covert is doing on Mandalore.

After a nice breezy walk, your basket is almost full, you’ve picked multiple flowers and plants for the children to paint and learn about. The canyon is quiet, peaceful, the only sound coming from the soft breeze shaking the trees and the occasional twitter from the out of sight creatures.

You’re just about to leave and make your way back home, before it catches your eye and steals your attention. A vivid shade of pink and standing alone. The petals are perfectly uniform and it’s the most perfect looking flower that you’ve ever seen.

Din sighs, seeing someone in the canyon ahead of him. There wouldn’t be any practice unless the person was just leaving. Making him huff under his helmet and hope that it wasn’t someone who is looking for trouble.

You kneel down in front of the flower, appreciating its beauty before reaching into your basket and pulling out your holopad. Unable to resist taking a few snaps of the gorgeous flower.

Zooming in on the photo you notice a figure in the background that you immediately recognise as the father of Grogu - the new and unbelievably adorable little green foundling in your class.

You place your holopad back in your basket, figuring he’ll want some space. He’s polite, not much of a talker but there’s something about him that’s… intense. The kind of intenseness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand upright and makes that magic button downstairs pulse uncontrollably until it gets the attention it deserves.

You gently snip the bottom of the stalk and gently scoop up the flower in your hands, inhaling its gorgeous and intoxicating scent and letting it flood your senses.

And then it hits you.

Walking closer, he recognizes that it’s Grogu’s teacher. You are a newcomer to Nevarro, at least, you hadn’t been here when it was a bounty hunter’s hive. One of the more gentle settlers, and it doesn’t hurt that besides him, you are Grogu’s favorite person.

He smiles slightly under his helmet, wondering what you are doing out here in the canyon, although he spies the basket on your arm.

The effect is immediate, within seconds fire is coursing through your veins and pain meets a new type of pleasure in the most delicious way.

Every nerve ending in your body is set alight, and the pleasure center in your brain is working overtime. Arousal floods your core, your nipples harden and your clit is pulsing with desperate need out of nowhere.

You start to whimper as your legs threaten to fail beneath you, you’re still kneeling but you feel as though you’re about to collapse in a heap on the floor. The sounds that leave your mouth are nothing short of filthy, and you become more and more aware of your need for something to quench the flames that are burning stronger with every passing second.

Seeing you stumble, Din rushes forward. Hand on his blaster as he tilts his head up, searching for danger. Why else would a healthy woman nearly collapse? “Hey! Hey, get down!”

“The flower,” you say with a breathy moan, “I think it’s the flower.”

He’s already reached your side, grabbing you and your basket and dragging you behind a craggy outcrop in the canyon, getting you to cover. Unaware of your moaned words, they were too unintelligible. The pollen from the flower drifts under his helmet, not pressurized against contaminants and floods his nostrils in a heady rush.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you babble, as you start to pull on the collar of your dress. The material feels much too constricting and far too warm despite the cool breeze.

“Dank ferik.” Din hisses, his own armor suddenly feeling as if it weighs more than the great forge on Mandalore. “It’s- it’s the pollen.” He croaks out, slapping the basket out of your hand, but he knows it’s too late.

“What’s w-wrong with the pollen?” You gasp out, unsure why your clothes feel heavy and your body is trembling uncontrollably. Your need to be touched now is desperate.

“It’s an aphrodisiac.” He grunts, cock already hardening and tenting the fabric of his flight suit. “It- it lasts for hours and-“ His eyes under his helmet widen as he remembers one particular trait of this toxic flower.

“And?” You ask frantically, “And what?”

“Your heart explodes if you don’t- uh, have sex.” His hand slaps against the rock wall of the canyon and he groans, thinking about an activity that he has long denied himself. He’s been too busy with the kid to seek out any companionship, even for a night.

“What?” You say with a pained laugh, “How is that -fuuuuck- how is that even possible?” The lace from your bra rubs painfully against your hardened peaks and you have to physically fight the urge to free yourself of your dress and bra.

He doesn’t fucking know, but the digital display in his helmet is broadcasting that fact as he looks down at the flower. “What the fuck were you doing with it?” He demands, trying to think about something other than pushing you against the rocks and burying himself in your cunt.

“I was just.. I’m picking flowers for the kids to paint,” you say between labored breaths, “Please, do something. It fucking hurts.” You start to beg, unsure what can be done.

He hadn’t anticipated that response. Groaning, he shakes his head. Knowing that a quick fuck in the canyon isn’t going to do it. Plus it’s too exposed out here. “Hold on to me.” He orders, stumbling next to you and wrapping his arm around your back before he kicks on his Rising Phoenix.

You squeal with shock as you’re shot upwards into the deep blue sky, your arms wrapping so tightly around The Mandalorian that it hurts.

Din’s groans are covered by the sounds of the jetpack and the wind. His cock is throbbing and leaking into the flight suit and he knows you have to be feeling worse. Your exposure was vastly greater than his own.

He senses the moment that the pain becomes too much for you to bear, his arms wrapping even tighter around you as you start to lose your grip. Pain shoots throughout your body as you whimper in his arms.

“We-it’s- it’s close.” He groans, his own body used to pain although he’s never experienced an arousal that might override all his senses like this before. All he can think about is stripping you down, burying himself in your body over and over until relief is finally achieved.

“I can’t hold on much longer,” you gasp, as the aching between your thighs grows stronger and more uncomfortable.

The outline of his small cabin appears and it can’t be a second sooner. His entire body is tense and his jetpack is nearly sputtering as it sets down on the ground in front of the remote dwelling. His star-fighter is parked off to the side and he is grateful that the baby is still asleep in his own little room.

His grip on you stays firm as you reach the ground, and he gently pulls you into his cabin. Spinning you around he presses you up against the door and gently palms your tit with his gloved hands.

“Tell me-“ Din groans and bites his lip under his helmet. “Dank ferik, tell me I can fuck you, Mesh’la.” He begs.

“You can fuck me,” you say with a moan as you press yourself up against him, desperate to feel him inside of you.

His head turns towards the door where Grogu is sleeping, relieved to find it still closed and he steps back to drag you away from the wall. “My room.” He demands, knowing the kid didn’t need to wake up and see anything.

“Yes, sir,” you say as you follow him on shaky legs into the room. Your clothes feel heavy against your skin, but you wait for his command to remove them. Standby patiently but writhing in discomfort as he walks towards you. “I need to take my dress off,” you say, as the material irritates your skin.

“Take it off.” He knows he will rip your dress if it touches it and he needs to get out of his armor. It’s chafing his skin and he’s overheating.

You immediately unzip the dress and let it fall to the floor, before working on your bra and panties. “Need you so badly,” you whine and you climb down onto the bed, and spread your legs. Dipping your fingers into your entrance and spreading some of your arousing through your folds and circling your clit.

“Dank ferik.” The armor clanks to the floor carelessly. Unable to treat it as reverently as he normally does. Fingers fumbling as his cock throbs, visor trained on your cunt.

“Hurry,” you beg, as you circle your clit faster, you’re soaked enough for him to slide right in with little resistance. “Am I allowed to touch you?” You ask as you continue working your clit, you know a little about Mandalorian creed but you’ve never fucked one before and want to make sure you’re respectful and you don’t cross any boundaries.

“I-I’m going to turn out the lights.” He groans, wanting to see you, touch you. And have you touching him. “And I need to blindfold you.”

“Whatever you need,” you say, as you turn your head so he can blindfold you. “I won’t touch you unless you explicitly tell me where it’s okay, and I promise the blindfold will stay on until you take it off.”

“You can touch me.” He is panting as he ties the blindfold and quickly strips out of the flightsuit and his boots. Even though he is burning, he hesitates when reaching for his helmet.

You reach out and let your fingers run across his chest, “Fuck,” you say, as your pussy clenches around nothing, “Want you to fuck me so badly, but I really wanna suck your cock first, Mando. I want to rub my little pussy while you fuck my throat.”

“No.” He chokes out, knowing that your body is screaming for release worse than his own is. It makes the decision easy and the click of the locks is accompanied by a slight hiss as he lifts the helmet off his head and it clatters to the ground.

“Oh,” you say, clearly disappointed but still rubbing your clit as fast as you can and chasing your release. “How do you want me?”

Din knocks your hand away and climbs up on the bed to pull you up and spin you around. A lifetime of training makes picking you up easy and he flips you onto your stomach on his chest. “Suck my cock and I’ll lick you.” He rasps out, his voice unmodulated and clear. “Never done it, but I want to. You need it.”

The sound of his voice is even sexier when unmodulated. Raspy and rough. Each word going straight to your pussy. “Yes, sir,” you say as you feel around and finally get his cock in your hand. It’s thick, veiny and dripping in pre-cum, the room is dark enough and the blindfold is opaque enough that you can’t see it but it feels glorious in your hands. You give him a teasing lick, lapping up all the pre-cum before taking the tip of him in your mouth.

Din groans, his gloveless hands reaching for your hips and his entire body shudders when he realizes that it’s full skin to skin contact. Dragging you back and immediately plunging his tongue inside your quivering and leaking cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you choke out as you pull off his cock, loving the dexterous heat of his tongue. You take him back into your mouth and hollow your cheeks, your moans vibrating against his cock as he eats your pussy. For someone who said he’d never done this before he’s unbelievably skilled, eating you with such vigor that after a few minutes you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

There have been a lot of holo vids around oral sex in his past, learning and aching to try the things that he saw. Although he’s not got a forked tongue like some species, nor one as long, he still grunts in pleasure as you moan loudly around his cock. Rocking your hips back to taste you more, getting deeper into your cunt.

“Gonna cum,” you croak out around him, before swirling your tongue around the tip of him and pulling away before cumming with a loud whimper of the only name you know for him, “Fuck, Mando!’

Din nearly whimpers at the loss of your mouth but the sweetness of your cum makes up for it. Soaking his face like he’s never experienced before. His cock throbs and he pulls away. “Close.” He chokes out, knowing he’s going to cum from this alone.

You take him back into your mouth and double down on your efforts, sucking him harder and licking your tongue around him. You take him as deep as you can, working the bottom of his shaft with your hands, saliva dripping everywhere as you work him towards his high. Needing to feel his cock twitch and start to flood your mouth with his cum.

It doesn't take him but a few more seconds when your mouth wraps back around him for Din to start to cum. Groaning out your name harshly, it's the only warning you get when he shoots a hot rope of cum down your throat, immediately followed by another.

You swallow around him, humming at the rich yet salty taste of him. Not letting a single drop go to waste, eagerly awaiting each burst as your mouth milks him dry. He’s delicious, salty and musky and you want more. You keep sucking until he orders you to stop and you slowly pull off of him with a groan.

Even though he's cum, his body still aches, his cock is still hard and he knows you aren't satisfied either. "My tongue or my cock in your cunt this time?" He pants out, needing to know where to bury his cock again.

“Your cock, please,” you beg as you lift off of him, “Do you want me to ride you, Sir?”

"For now." He knows you might need him desperately and he wants to see how much you are willing to grind on him for his cock.

His harsh tone makes your chest clench, but you push away that feeling and position yourself over him, slowly sinking down on this thick cock and moaning loudly as he stretches you open. His cock fills you entirely, your walls flutter and hug his cock as you get used to the delicious stinging from how stretched out you are from him. You start rocking your hips slowly, before increasing your pace, grinding down on him over and over. Desperate moans slipping through your plush lips as a wave of euphoria floods through you.

The darkness is just enough that he can see you move. A shadow and he wishes that he could turn the lights back on but he can't risk your blindfold coming loose. It's barely a loophole and technicality of the creed, but you can't see him. Not unless you were going to bind yourself to him.

“You feel so good,” you choke out, as you rock your hips a little faster. “So big. So thick.” You murmur again and again as your pace quickens, chasing a high and feeling a desperate need to have him cum hard and paint your walls with his delicious cum.

"Fuck." Din chokes out, puffing up at the praise. It's better than the moans with his cock in your mouth and he palms your tits, plucking at them and pinching your nipples while you bounce on his length.

“Tell me what you need,” you moan, “Fast or slow? Need you to feel good, baby, want to feel this cock fill me up.”

Din curses again. "Fuck, fast." He hisses, squeezing your tits harshly. "Fucking ride me hard."

You do as he commands, increasing your pace and bouncing up and down on him as fast as you can, moaning in pleasure as he hits that spot inside of you. Your hands cover his as he squeezes your tits, holding on tightly as he starts to fuck up into you, matching your pace with his own.

The loud sounds of sex fill his room. His hips snapping up as you bounce down on his cock. Both of you moaning and cursing greedily as the fire of the pollen rages in your systems. He knows you’re craven for his cum, the only thing that can soothe the effects of the flower.

You reach down and start to circle your clit, as you keep the same pace, wanting to clamp down around him and hear those delicious groans from him. “You’re incredible,” you pant as you near your high, circling your clit with perfect precision as he fucks up against nirvana inside of you. “Gonna cum,” you warn, before pleasure washes over you and squeeze his cock like a vice. Yelling his name as you cum, hard.

Letting go of your tits, he grabs your hips again and starts the hammer up into you. His hold on your body is the only thing keeping you from being thrown up into the air. Harsh punches of his cock that hit deep and wrench a cry out of you every time he hits your cervix, he can’t even care if it hurts you because you gush another wave of heat around him.

“Fuck,” you choke out, as he pushes the air from your lungs with every thrust. You’ve never been fucked like this before, but it’s addicting, you crave more and more from him with each harsh thrust of his hips. “Fill me up,” you beg, each word more strained as his pace quickly overwhelms you.

His arms wrap around you and he’s thrusting up into you like you are his personal fuck toy. “Fuck, fuck, gonna, fuck- fill you up.” He promises, grunting out a word every time he buries his cock into your spasming cunt. One harsh thrust later and a harsh bark of your name, he delivers on that promise. Cumming just as hard and as much as when he came down your throat only minutes before.

Falling forward onto him your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck, he’s still hard and twitching inside of you but a wave of exhaustion starts to make an appearance. You pant into his warm skin, arms tightly wrapped around him and you can’t ignore how tense he is. You’re unsure if you’ve crossed a line, but you need to catch your breath again before you’re able to move off of him and ask how he wants you next.

Din is tense from how close you are to his face. It’s been so long but you don’t reach up to touch it. Your arms around his shoulders and your face tucked into his neck. He rolls you onto your back and starts to rock into you again. Knowing that the night isn’t over by a long shot.

You moan as he rocks into you, his stamina clearly better than your own as you attempt to gather up some strength. But he seems content to pick up the slack as your pussy flutters around him and your walls hug him tight. “Are you allowed to kiss me?” You ask, barely above a whisper as his hips snap forward.

Din groans and he nods even though you can’t see him. “Can I?” He breathes above your lips. He’s never kissed before and right now as he fucking you both through a dangerous exposure to sex pollen seem to be a good time to experience it.

“Yes, please.” You plead softly, wanting to taste his lips despite not knowing what they look like. Not caring at all that you have no idea what he looks like.

Permission granted, he crushes his lips to your in a messy kiss. Much less coordinated than when he licked into you, he had avoided kissing holo vids because he had felt jealous.

You giggle a little at the way he smashes his lips against yours, before lightly touching his chin and taking the lead. Licking his bottom lip gently until he parts his lips enough for you to slip your tongue inside and press it against his own. It doesn’t take long until he’s mastering the art and taking control, his lips now refusing to part from yours as he rocks his hips into you. Kissing you just as hard as he fucks you, changing up the pace every now and then and swallowing your moans of delight.

Groaning into your mouth is like ambrosia. You are the best thing he’s ever tasted and he can’t get enough. His cock steadily fills you with strokes and his tongue mimics the motion into your mouth as he pants his pleasure loudly.

With a few more strokes of his cock, he has you clamping down around him and crying out the name you know him by in pleasure. The stuttering of his hips as your pussy acts like a vice around him makes him grunt your name before pulling you in for another breathtaking kiss. The effects of the pollen start to lessen but the effects of him growing stronger. Everything about him is consuming, his scent, the power he commands and with every snap of his hips and grunt of your name; you want more and more.

Din can barely rock his hips but the clenching and squeezing of your cunt pushes him over the edge. This time he is moaning your name into your mouth while pushing more cum into your pussy. Sliding down your cheeks and soaking his bed underneath you in growing puddle.

“Fuck, Mando,” you say against his lips, with a bright smile. “Picking that flower was the best decision I've made in months.” You love the way he twitches inside of you, your walls still hugging him tightly as he groans against your mouth. You gently run your hand up and down his back as he works on catching his breath.

“Din.” There are plenty of people who know his name now and he doesn’t see why you shouldn’t. Given that he had just fucked the life out of you and still had a few more rounds in him before the pollen is completely gone. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Din,” you repeat softly, “I like that. Din.” You press a light kiss to his lips before repeating his name a few more times. “Do you think I can jerk you off next? My pussy isn’t used to being fucked this good. Give her a little break before you fill her up again?”

“Do you want my mouth again?” He asks, knowing you might still need something. “I can just suck on your clit.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, “I know you said that was the first time you did it, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it again if you don’t want.”

“I liked it.” Din twitches inside you as he admits that and kisses you again. “Unless you didn’t like it?”

“I loved it,” you giggle, “Can’t believe that was the first time you’ve done it. Best oral I’ve ever had.”

“Good.” He grunts happily. “Then I’ll do it again.” He pulls out of you and rolls onto his back.

“You want me to sit on your face and I can jerk you off as you eat my pussy, baby?”

“Fuck yes.” Din groans. “Want to taste your cunt filled with my cum.”

“Fuck,” you moan at his filth, “Yes, sir.” He helps you position over his face, and you hover a few inches above his mouth before reaching down and gripping his cock. Giving it a few languid strokes before finding a pace that has him groaning. “I bet you’ve got a gorgeous cock, Din, I can feel how good it is. But fuck. It’s so thick and long and those veins… I.. fuck. It’s so perfect.” You tell him before he pulls you down and starts to eat your pussy like a man starved. You work his cock like it’s the most important job in the work, each flick of your wrist designed to make him groan and grunt with pure pleasure. “Do you like that? Do you like me stroking your cock while it’s still dripping with my cum, Din?”

He huffs, nodding his head as he continues to lick and taste both of you combined. He’d love it if you sucked his cock again but your hand is good too. Tilting your hips up, he finds your clit and sucks it into his mouth.

“Fuck, Din,” you yell out as he sucks on your clit, “Maker- I could get used to this.” You squeeze his cock a little harder, changing the pace from fast to slow. Wiping your thumb across the tip and gathering up the pre-cum to taste on your fingers. He groans as you let him, bringing your fingers up to mouth and licking them clean before gripping his cock again. “Going to suck your cock again after this, you taste so good, baby.”

Din groans and sucks on your clit harder, pushing his tongue against it and releasing it to lick it and suck it back into his mouth to start the entire process over again. He could get used to this too. Eating your pussy every night and having you on his cock.

“Diiiiiiinnnnnn,” you moan, over and over as he works magic on your clit. You stroke his cock over and over as his hips stutter, “Gonna c-cum.”

He pulls away just to gasp out, “me too.” Before he’s reattaching his lips to your clit like a hungry sucker fish.

“Din, Din, Din,” you chant his name over and over like a sacred prayer, pumping his cock until he’s spurting out thick ropes of cum, cum that you’ve desperate to scoop up and lick from your fingers. You feel your pussy clench down around nothing as your orgasm pulses through you, soaking his face with your arousal as he continues his delicious assault on your bundle of nerves.

You stopped stroking his cock, too focused on your own pleasure but you squeeze him. Making him pulse as his balls draw up against his body again.

“Din,” you pant one last time, as he grunts beneath you. You feel his cock twitching in your hands, clearly desperate for more release, and you resume your strokes. Milking him free of his pleasure and loving the way it pants your skin. Your fingers, wrists and arms are covered in his cum. All of it begging to be licked clean.

Letting go of your clit, Din groans your name as you stroke his cock and milk it of every drop of his release.

The second he stops cumming, you gently let it go and start cleaning it from your skin. Moaning at the taste and humming in content as you swallow it all down. “You taste delicious, Din.”

His cock is still hard but he’s not desperate to be inside you. The fire in his veins nearly burned away and it will only take once more before it’s all done. “You taste good, Mesh’la.” He praises roughly. “Could taste you everyday and be a happy man.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say with a giggle. “It’s wearing off, I think, it doesn’t burn as badly but I think I can go again. You wanna fuck my mouth or my pussy this time, baby?”

“Is your pussy too sore?” He asks, knowing he’s been rough with it.

“I can take you again, I’m definitely going to be feeling you for a while, but I'm not complaining.”

“Why don’t you ride me then?” He asks, stroking your hip. “You can kiss me this time.”

“Perfect,” you say, wasting no time and getting into position and sinking down on him again. You press your lips against his and start to rock your hips, the ache between your legs getting drowned out with pleasure as he matches your pace.

"Shit, shit, fuck, you are so tight?" Din groans in surprise. "How are you still so tight? We've been fucking for hours." He doesn't stop touching you, anywhere and everywhere he can while you ride him, stroking your back, your hips, sweeping his hands up to your breasts. Greedy for that skin to skin contact now that he's not quite as focused on cumming. "Kiss me, mesh'la." He begs.

You immediately press your lips to his, and moan into his mouth. His hands feel perfect on you, they explore your body with ease as you rock up and down, chasing relief once more around his cock.

This time is less frantic. It’s slower and almost more intimate. It’s almost like you are making love.

“Need you to cum,” you murmur against his lips, exhaustion taking its toll on your fucked out body, as you rock your hips slowly. His thumb pressed up against your clit as you chase some friction

“I will.” He promises. “After you, Mesh’la.”

You move your hips just a little faster, still keeping the pace slow and intimate. His thumb circles your clit perfectly as you grind down on him, cunning with a soft moan of his name, clamping down around him and relishing the groans of pleasure he fills your ear with. “Cum for me, Din,” you plead, as you can come back down.

Now that he feels your entire body melt, he knows the pollen has worked completely out of your system. “Good girl.” He grunts, rocking his hips as he wraps his arms around you. “I’m gonna fill you up again.”

“Please,” you beg, needing to feel his release. “Please, Din.”

He doesn't rush, knowing that you have to be exhausted at this point. Only his ability to go beyond his limits allows him to keep rocking his hips up. As soon as he cums, he knows he will pass out to sleep for a good while. You are almost asleep as he fucks you.

You sink your face into the crook of his neck, unsure how you’re going to find the strength to pull yourself out of bed and make your way home. Rocking your hips more and more, his release clearly moments away, you ride him harder, determined to give him every bit of his pleasure.

"Fuck." He groans and thrusts up one more time to bury himself deep. Throbbing again and feeling your walls grip him tight when he starts to spill inside of you again. Groaning your name quietly as he fills you. Feeling the heat and need of the pollen falling away with the last pulse of his orgasm.

“Din,” you murmured into his skin, “Tha-thank you.” Exhaustion rumbles in your joints, everything aches, but everything feels worth it when you’re wrapped up in his arms.

"Sleep, mesh'la." He hums, his hand sliding up and down your back gently. He's still inside you and doesn't want to pull out right now. He wants to sleep inside you. "I know you are exhausted."

You hum happily into the crook of his neck, letting him move you slightly and wrapping his arms around you. “Goodnight, Din.”

Sleep comes easier than it has in months, safely pulling you into slumber as he gently rubs your back and holds you tight to him.

Sometime during the night, Din wakes up. opening his eyes and letting his vision adapt to the darkness. He's softened and is barely inside you but it was probably the most relaxed and the best sleep that he's ever had. Possibly in his entire life. Reaching up, Din gently unties the blindfold that is still firmly over your eyes. He's decided that he wants you to see him. Or have the choice if you wanted him to turn on the lights. Now he just holds you, waiting for you to wake up.

Waking up, you hum contentedly in his arms, nuzzling your nose into his warm skin. The fact he’d removed your blindfold not fully registered yet as you wish him a ‘good morning.’ It’s only as you pull back and the light hits your eyelids that you realize the blindfold is off. “Din,” you say quietly, “Is it ok to open my eyes?”

"Opening your eyes comes with consequences, mesh'la." He admits quietly. "I am not allowed to let anyone see my face. Or I become darmanda." He explains. "I would no longer be Mandalorian."

“What do you want me to do?” You ask, before pressing your lips against his, “Tell me.”

"There is a way that you can see me and I am still Mandalorian." He tells you, slightly nervous about what you would think. It's crazy, but he couldn't stop thinking about it when he woke up.

“Tell me,” you repeat, “If you want to.”

"If you are my riduur....you can see my face without any consequences."

“Riduur?” You repeat slowly, “What is that?”

“Spouse.” He whispers the Basic word and waits for your reaction.

“Oh,” you say quietly, before bringing your hands up to his chin and gripping it gently. “Riduur,” you repeat, loving the way it sounds, “You could see me as yours one day?”

“You would be mine then.” He tells you. “If you want.”

“I want to be yours,” you say against his lips.

“Then open your eyes, Mesh’la.” He murmurs softly. “You can look at me before we say our vows.”

You kiss him first, pressing your lips firmly against his before pulling back and slowly opening your eyes. Staring deeply into his brown eyes and feeling a smile spread across your face as you take in his features. “Gorgeous,” you say quietly, before letting your fingertips gently run across his face.

His eyes softly and his lips part when your fingers drag across them. He’s been touched by Grogu but this is different. “Pleasant enough? Or should I put my helmet back on?” He jokes self-consciously.

“You’re perfect,” you say honestly, “I can’t believe you’d want me. You’re gorgeous.”

“You are mesh’la, it is Mando’a for beautiful.” He hums, smiling up at you.

“Mesh’la,” you repeat, “You are mesh’la, Din.”

Biting his lip, he says, “repeat after me. Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” you say as clearly as you can, eyes still focused on his as you do so.

Din grins. “It is our vows.” He explains. “It means - We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors."

“We are one.” Taking his hand you bring it to your lips and place a small kiss on it. “Yesterday took an unexpected turn… But I’m so glad I picked that flower.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Good thing I wasn’t secretly a Gungan under my helmet.” He teases.

You giggle back at him before pulling him in for another kiss, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk normally for the next few days, you realize that right?”

“That’s to be expected.” Din flashes you a dirty grin. “Make sure you tell them that when we go to Mandalore.”

“So every time you fuck me, I’m going to be feeling it for days?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Not every time, but when you’re fucking to stay alive, I’ll make sure you feel it.” He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and grinning up at you. “You can pick those flowers anytime you want….riduur.”

“I might just have to do that,” you giggle, “Thank you for saving my life, Din.”

“I think I’ve gotten a pretty good reward.” Din hums. He had settled here for Grogu and it was a nice little place, maybe a little lonely since he’s not so busy, but now he has a feeling he will never be lonely again. Not with you by his side.

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icysnails · 8 months

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Kissing Their Forehead

Genre: Fluff, a tiny bit of angst

Pairings: Xiao, Welt, Kafka, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Kaveh, Blade x gn!reader (Seperate)

Warnings: Spoilers for both Genshin and HSR, Established relationship, Slightly Suggestive (Kafka), mentions of blood/wounds (Xiao + Blade), Kissing, some have more plot than others (╥﹏╥) - If I missed any, please let me know!

Word count: 400 - 600 words per character

Xiao

Nights like these were common for you and Xiao. The two of you meet up on the roof of Wangshu Inn every night, catching up on whatever you missed in each other’s absence during the day. This is also the time when Xiao listens to his heart, and allows you to get closer to him. Even after you’ve spent so much time together, he still isn’t used to the flurries of affection you throw at him, and tonight was no different.

When you lovingly press your lips to the diamond on Xiao’s forehead mid-conversation, his mind goes entirely blank. Surprise reflects in his amber gaze, and a wave of gut wrenching emotion surges through him. It’s a mix of joy, confusion, and grief- almost as if he’s experiencing both his terrifying past and his peaceful present at the same time. He had been alone for so long, keeping himself away from humanity unless absolutely necessary, to avoid the risk of hurting anyone should he lose control. He knows things aren't like that anymore- not with you around. He loves you and you love him in return, but he can’t help but feel guilty for being able to experience such affection. After what he had done over the course of his past, after he had stained his hands with so much blood, how could he ever deserve love? He views himself as dangerous- as a monster, and deep down, he thinks you deserve so much better than him. He had voiced this to you before, but you just cupped his face in your hands and smiled sadly at him, whispering that you wished he would think better of himself and that you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Xiao couldn’t begin to understand why you felt this way, but at the same time, he is eternally grateful to have you with him. Your presence soothes him and illuminates the darkness of his heart- even if it feels selfish, he can’t help but melt whenever your lips meet his forehead. Xiao closes his eyes, leaning into your touch, pushing his spiral of insecurity to the side for now. When you pull away and look at him with your shining, lovestruck eyes, he can’t help but flush and move closer to you. His hand comes to rest on your cheek as his forehead comes to rest gently on your own. The world seems to stand still as you make eye contact, your lips only inches away from his. Xiao’s shoulders relax and the intolerable screams of dying demons he usually grapples with fade into serene silence. The Yaksha’s touch is careful and light, and his expression displays how deeply he longs to stay in this moment for as long as possible. However, he knows well that this desire is nothing but an empty fantasy, rendered impossible at the hands of time. Soon, danger and duty would cruelly pierce through the veil of peace, tearing you away from each other. So Xiao holds you and leans further into your warmth, cherishing the moment before it slips away once more.

Welt

Welt is a kind, tired old soul. He’s been through a lot, he’s seen a lot, and he’s lost a lot- two examples being his old friends and his home planet. He knows how quickly a once peaceful life can fade due to the dangers of the universe, and he knows how irreplaceable loved ones are. Unfortunately, he learned that the hard way. So, he wastes no time in showing you how precious you are to him. Luckily, you accept his displays of affection with excitement and return it back tenfold.

The two of you are going about your regular duties on the express when you catch Welt’s eye from across the train car. No one else is around, so you sidle over to him, trying not to be too obvious. Welt gives you a side eye as you do this, not knowing what to expect from the cheeky grin that’s making its way across your face. Only a minute later, Welt feels your presence next to him, and he swears that the smile you have plastered on is contagious. His own lips quirk up into a smile, and before he knows it, your body is pressed up against his, your arms constricting around him like there's no tomorrow. He lets out a sigh of endearment, his own arms gently moving to envelop you. Honestly, what was he going to do with you?

However, his infatuation quickly changes to confusion as you pull away slightly and rest your hands on his shoulders. You raise yourself a bit, attempting to reach his forehead, brows furrowing slightly in frustration due to his height. Soon enough, you manage to reach his forehead and your lips quickly make gentle contact with his skin. Welt chuckles softly, moving his hands to your waist, pulling you against him a second time. A massive grin breaks out on his face, and you swear you’ve never seen him happier in your life. Welt then cups your face and drowns you in a flurry of kisses, his own cheeks flushing profusely as he watches you become more and more flustered. The sounds of lovestruck giggles and playful remarks bounce off the walls of the train car, hours passing before the two of you remember your duties. Undoubtedly, the whole exchange ends with Welt fondly clinging to you with one of his hands carding through your hair, work entirely forgotten, as you wait for the rest of the crew to return.

Kafka

As expected, Kafka loves to tease. Her demeanor is alluring, drawing people to her in both hatred and love. While most disapprove of her title as a Stellaron Hunter, you seem to be an exception. In fact, it’s become very clear to her that she’s got you eternally and willingly caught in her web. She watches your every movement with immense amusement, her gaze dark yet loving as you fall apart from the products of her captivating existence. Often, she was the one initiating affection through words and subtle touches, adoring the way you choke on your words and desperately fumble for a half-decent response. More often than not, these interactions result in bolder acts of physical affection. Whether that’s innocent acts like allowing Kafka to tilt your chin up to kiss you, or you quickly embracing her as a way to hide your hopelessly heated face, or acts that are more… risque, you love every second you get to spend with her. And although Kafka wears a mask of cold, calm deceit, you know that when it comes to you, she doesn’t think twice about showing how genuine her love is.

Even if Kafka was skilled in making you flustered, you had been itching to initiate something on your own for weeks. To watch her get thrown off balance instead of you, all because of something you had said or done- it seemed like an impossible fantasy. Yet you persist in building up your courage, determined to express your love for her and pay her back for all the times she set butterflies off in your stomach. So, you carefully mapped out how you would go about your initiation, knowing that you would have to surprise your beloved in order to elicit any kind of reaction. The next day, you keep your eyes peeled for a moment when she’s idle and unaware of your presence. You manage to catch her while she’s reading, legs crossed casually as she sinks into the cushioning of her chair, eyes glinting with amusement at the book’s contents. Quietly, you enter the room, seemingly ignoring her- that is, until you reach her chair and swoop down to kiss her forehead before she can say anything. Afterward, you turn away and speed walk out of the room, internally reveling in the surprise that overtook Kafka’s features. Her eyes shot open wide, lips slightly parted, eyebrows raised. However, in your absence after the kiss, you didn’t see the fierce blush that spread over Kafka’s cheeks or hear the lovestruck giggle that involuntarily escaped her lips. And you definitely didn’t find out about Silverwolf walking in a few minutes later, only to find the woman folded over in her chair with her face in her hands, giggling like a schoolgirl and entirely refusing to look up. You had caused the most calm Stellaron Hunter to break her collected facade for once, which was incredibly hard to do. After making her feel so lovestruck, there’s no way she could just leave you alone. She would have to get back at you somehow- expect nothing less than to be smothered with her love over the next few days.

Wanderer/Scaramouche

Scaramouche had been going about his day as normal, bored out of his mind, desperately trying to find something interesting to do while vivid thoughts of you plagued his mind. Nahida had attempted to immerse him in different human activities, yet none of them seemed to take- he was either pretty bad at them, or he just gave up on them because he lost interest. Even the few battles he encountered during his day weren’t enough to take his mind off your absence. Needless to say, when you arrive home he’s all over you, trying to hide his longing for you behind a false mask of annoyance. But you can see right through him, adoration reflecting in your eyes as you quickly grab his face and press a firm kiss to his forehead. As you do so, a confused protest escapes his throat, the poor man startled by your sudden loving gesture. Afterward, you take his hand and drag him further into Sumeru to go get some food, but Scaramouche’s mind is entirely elsewhere. His pace is much slower than yours, making it slightly hard to lead him into the city, but he really can’t help it. Even now, even after the two of you have known each other for so long, you still manage to surprise him. He shields his face with one hand to hide his reddening cheeks and uses the other to tether you to him, picking up his pace so that you’re the one who’s being pulled. The giggle that this elicits from you doesn’t help either, as it only causes the butterflies in his stomach to burst even more.

After all, Scara wasn’t used to this. All his life, he’s been alone- always being left behind, always being used. He had become so accustomed to the feeling of anger and resentment that he didn’t realize how lonely he had indeed become. After he had the Electro Gnosis taken from him and his identity erased from Irminsul, his anger morphed into an overwhelming feeling of emptiness. Sure, erasing himself gave him a second chance at life, but his own loss of identity left him feeling void of any purpose or desire. That quickly changed when you were introduced to him though. As time went on, as he got to know you better, the void in his chest slowly became filled with the undying urge to protect you. The puppet didn’t understand what these emotions were or why he felt like this, but that didn’t matter to him. As long as you were safe, as long as he got to see your smile at the end of the day, he would be content. As you both reach your destination, Scara turns back to look at you, his heart immediately starting to hammer in his chest. You were beaming at him, a playful glint in your eyes- it was painfully clear that you were about to start teasing him for getting so flustered. Before you can say anything, Scaramouche gently takes your face in his hands and kisses you, gaze hopelessly soft. His gentle expression then turns into a devious smirk, amused by the way your eyes widen, entirely unsure of what to say. Now he can see the appeal of surprise kisses, and he’ll definitely be using them more often if this is the reaction he’ll get.

Kaveh

Kaveh cares for you more than anyone else. His passion for you is immense, so much so that it makes his passion for architecture pale in comparison- which is saying a lot because he loves architecture. In fact, it was practically his life until he met you, (aside from bickering with Alhaitham), and in his eyes, you're the greatest work of art to ever exist. Even the glistening walls and windows of the Palace of Alcazarzaray couldn’t match your glory. His genuine admiration for you often makes it hard for him to communicate how he feels- only one look is enough to get him red faced and stuttering. He does try though, he tries incredibly hard, but it just doesn’t work. The architect is constantly fighting with his own mind, wanting to spill out every ounce of love he’s feeling but not wanting to say the wrong thing. This internal conflict only intensifies during big projects, when all he can think of is you. He doesn’t get to see you often during these periods of time, which only makes him long for you more. So, when you pass by his desk, leaning over to see what he’s working on, you can imagine how deeply sidetracked he gets. When you ask what he’s doing, he starts explaining the details of the project, but quickly trails off as he sees the gentle smile on your face. Oh archons, you’re stunning, he thinks, fighting to find his words once more.

When he does, he quickly finishes his explanation, clearing his throat to try and cover up how deeply flustered he is. You nod and raise your eyebrows, impressed by his ambition and talent. Needing to get on with your own work, you wish him luck, brushing his bangs back and kissing him delicately on the forehead. Kaveh’s face explodes with red and suddenly he feels like the room is far too hot. He fans himself off with his hands, attempting to focus, but the feeling of your lips on his skin keeps replaying in his head. His thoughts are scattered all over the place, each stream of thought overlapping to become an insufferable cacophony of noise and feelings, to the point where he just can't take it anymore. Throwing his pencil down, Kaveh quickly gets up from his seat and somewhat aggressively hurries into the other room, where he finds you sitting on the couch, peacefully flipping through a book. He takes your hand, pulling you up toward his chest. His arms wrap around you tightly and he buries his face into your neck, your confused exclamations completely unheard by him. The architect’s resolve to continue working shatters as soon as you hug him back, his attitude clearly indicating that he doesn’t plan on letting go of you any time soon- not that you mind, of course.

Blade

Blade doesn’t understand why you like him so much. He doesn’t understand you, and how you keep going despite everything you’ve been through already. Though he doesn’t openly show his admiration for you, it's definitely there, despite the cold expression on his face. If you look just closely enough, you can see the way his gaze softens slightly whenever you enter the same room as him. You take this as permission for you to get near him and a confirmation that you aren’t being a burden by physically displaying your fondness for him. One way you show your infatuation with him is by patching him up after missions or fights, and unsurprisingly, he doesn’t understand why you do this either. He can heal himself for the most part, so why would you go through the trouble? Despite his lack of comprehension, he never fights back. The feeling of your gentle, loving hands on his skin soothes him, even if he has an abundance of painful gashes all over his body. The feeling of your lips on each of his wounds after you’ve tended to them is enough to get his heart beating faster, which is something that he thought was impossible to achieve.

Each time, just before you finish patching him up, you take his face in your hands, so carefully that you may as well be handling porcelain. From there, you guide his head slightly forward to almost meet your lips. Blade closes his eyes, his bandaged hand lifting to rest on top of one of your own, wanting to keep your warmth on his skin for as long as possible. A relaxed exhale slips past his lips as the tension in his shoulders deflates. When you finally press your lips to the soft expanse of Blade’s forehead, you can feel his hand start to shake slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. You pull away, smiling warmly at him, washing away any confusion or sadness that lingers in his gaze. Your eyes meet and Blade’s mind becomes consumed by your touch. It’s been centuries since he’s felt this way- since he’s felt safe, since he’s felt like he has a home. Blade moves back, pulling you forward and into his lap. His hands carefully support your back, your chest pressing against him tightly while your head falls onto his shoulder. His breathing syncs up with yours as you shift to shyly return his embrace. Blade’s lips upturn into a small smile as you gently chastise him for moving so suddenly, warning that it may reopen his wounds. His chest grows tight in appreciation, his love for you growing with every breath he takes. No matter what tomorrow may bring, no matter how much pain he must endure, he knows it will all be alright as long as you’re safe.

#xiao x reader #alatus x reader #adeptus xiao x reader #welt x reader #welt yang x reader #kafka x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kaveh x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #genshin impact x reader #hsr x reader #genshin x reader #fluff

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dejwrites · 1 year

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀recovery, nanami kento

the shibuya incident shook the sorcery world (and japan) drastically and nanami kento is slowly transitioning back into the world. the dreadful feeling of not being able to help the youth he worked to protect sits heavy in his mind as his scarred hands tremble to do simple tasks. but nothing causes his stomach to twists in the most horrendous knots until he have to face his five year old daughter and the world again with his new battle scars. but as a good wife

♔ ˖ ✧ — general warnings: female reader, her/she pronouns, female anatomy described, black reader written in mind, physical descriptors, canon verse but also a what if nanami survive au, jjk spoilers, established relationship (reader and nanami are married), mentions of ptsd, mentions of scars and burn scars, cane usage, mentions of therapy, reader and nanami have a daughter named yu, same reader & nanami from family affairs series, first half is told in 2nd/reader pov & other half in nanami’s pov // smut warnings: cowgirl/riding position, breasts play, pet name usage (baby), finger sucking, praise kink, // word count: 4.4k, minors dni.

OCTOBER 31ST WAS A DAY THAT CHANGED YOUR LIFE DRASTICALLY. You remembered dropping your five-year-old daughter Yu off with a friend after an emergency call for many sorcerers to the Shibuya district. You remembered kissing both sides of your daughter’s cheeks because whenever her father wasn’t with you to drop her off, he always told you to make sure you gave her as many kisses as he would give her until she was a giggling mess begging for you to stop. You recalled how your fingertips were imprinted with the fragrance of blood despite you wearing latex gloves the whole time—with the number of deaths you marked down, perhaps that scent just was in your mind. You remembered having a drag of your first cigarette (complementary of Shoko) after the long day of horror—you hated it. You thought it would ease your growing anxiety when you didn’t know where your husband was at. You recalled how you noticed Shoko’s whole demeanor changed as her quick strides towards you seemingly were used to push you further away from seeing the horror that was soon displayed in your view.

You remembered how disoriented you felt. You couldn’t keep much food down and practically slept at the hospital. You just didn’t feel like yourself—but who would when they knew that the events at Shibuya had nearly killed their loved one? It broke your heart lying to your own daughter. Your tongue stinging, even uttering out the words that mommy and daddy had to take a work trip and will return as soon as possible. Your daughter thought you were away at work, but here you were, staring at the monitor in Nanami’s room beep. You didn’t want to lose him; you didn’t know what to do without him. You didn’t know what Yu would be without him, she was such a Daddy’s girl, and it would crush your soul for her first love to be taken away from her.

Nanami was strong. He pushed through. He wouldn’t be the same, but he pushed through. It was quite a journey of physical therapy, support groups, and even him deciding to stay at a hotel for a while, fearing how his daughter would react to seeing him like that. It took him two weeks and your constant encouragement until he finally decided to return home. Even when he decided to let his daughter see him eventually, you still basked in silence in the car, waiting until he was comfortable. Although your daughter wasn’t home yet, Nanami hadn’t stepped foot into your shared home in what seemed like a year—when it only had been a couple of months. The words of what he would say to his daughter swirl around his mind like a carnival carousel curling around. He had to do this. He couldn’t avoid being in his daughter��s life because of the triggering aftermath of Shibuya.

He refused to give Mahito that much power over him.

“I’m just afraid of how she’ll react.” Nanami lets out a sigh as he packs up his clothes. His scarred hands trembled as he folded his clothes to put them in his suitcase neatly. Nowadays, it takes him longer than usual to do simple tasks like buttoning his shirt, and he now attempts to fold his clothes.

“Our daughter is extraordinary; she’ll understand what we do when we explain it to her fully.” You grabbed Nanami’s trembling hands to get his full attention. “We told ourselves that we want her to enjoy her youth. We’ll protect her just so she can do that, but she‘s growing and becoming more curious—we can’t shelter her from a life that she could soon be interested in pursuing.”

You watched as Nanami’s lips formed a straight line. He couldn’t argue against your words because they were true. His daughter was five. It was no point to stir her away from the lifestyle her parents (and a good portion of people she interacted with) were so familiar with, especially when she could possibly already see the ghoulish creatures that haunted his nightmares when he closed his eyes.

“You’re still her father, Ken,” You mumbled as your eyes glanced up at him. “No matter how you look right now, she will still know it’s you because of this.” Your index finger pokes his chest where his heart is.

During some moments within the day, you watched Nanami do simple tasks around the house as the two of you were waiting for you to have to pick up Yu from your friend’s house. Deciding to do what you guys usually do on a bright Sunday morning: clean the house. Your eyes couldn’t help but shine in worry seeing his right-hand shudder while he tried to do something like help you cut up vegetables for dinner. You knew this took a toll on him because cooking dinner together was your thing. A form of love language created when you first started dating blossomed into a tradition—it was just something you two did together. Even after long days of work and raising a very bright personality five-year-old—you two always met in the kitchen, whipping up dinner together and sharing subtle kisses here and there.

Your lips parted to ask if he needed help, but it was as if he read your mind—Nanami shook his head as he continued to cut the vegetables. This time he had a better grip on the knife and was doing it perfectly. If you looked closer, you could even see a twinkle in his eye at him being able to do such a task. Your lips curve into a small smile before you return to doing what you were doing. The two of you moved in sync in the kitchen as if you were competitors in a cooking show—managing to finish dinner and set the table just in time for you to have to pick up Yu. You kissed Nanami’s cheek, mumbling about how you’ll be back as soon as possible. Your friend only lived about fifteen minutes away and didn’t mind dropping Yu off, but you felt it was best for you to talk to her first.

You hated to admit that you were afraid of how Yu would react at the sight of her father—especially considering that you never went into detail about what you two do. She knows you’re a doctor and heal people, but that was it. She had no clue about curses, cursed energy—any of that. Was it wrong to shield her from that, considering that her parents would die? Maybe. But you and Nanami wanted to do everything to protect her youth and her ability to be young. When you picked Yu up, you couldn’t help but smile, seeing her bright smile as she skipped out of your friend’s house with her belongings in one hand and taiyaki. She hugged your leg as you opened the car door, rambling about her adventures with your friend. You helped her in her booster seat and strapped her in before climbing back into the car and returning home. Your mind is running with thoughts of telling your daughter that her father was back from the work trip, but he got hurt. He didn’t look like the last time she saw him.

“Yu, we have to talk.” You said while stopping at the red light. You look in the rearview mirror, watching her snack on the sweet treat. Mentally, you’re cursing your friend for giving her sweets so close to dinnertime—but maybe that would help her process the burdening news.

She glances at you with a smile. A toothless one because Nanami lost one of her front teeth after biting an apple while she was going. Another moment Nanami has missed. You broke eye contact with her to continue to drive, and you could even see the familiar driveway of your home.

“Is daddy finally coming back?” Yu asked. You could hear her kicking her feet, and you simply sighed.

You were turning into the driveway and parking the car. You unbuckled your seat so you could turn to look at her. Her curious expression looked rather adorable with the taiyaki crumbs on them. You knew you couldn’t lie to her. Ignoring her question, you exited the car and helped her out. You figured it would be better to be closer to her when you dropped the colossal bomb that could alter how she sees her father. Closing the car door and kneeling to her height, “Sweetie, I need to tell you something about your father.”

Yu’s head tilted in confusion, and her eyes shone with curiosity and fear. Your hands would give her a comforting squeeze, tugging the coils out her face that fell out of the red headband Yuji brought her on one of his free days from being a sorcerer student.

“Daddy got hurt badly at work.” You tried to explain, but your voice seemed to crack in the back of your throat as you tried not to cry. This hurt.

“Your dad was hurt really bad, and I just wanted to let you know that you must take it easy on him. He’s still your dad, who will protect you no matter what.” You rubbed your thumb against her cheek brushing away any crumbs off her face.

Yu only give you a nod. The five-year-old had to comprehend that something happened so quickly that she didn’t even know if she should be asking more questions. She was one curious kid that always had a question about something. You opened the front door holding onto Yu’s hand, and the house seemed too quiet other than the sounds from the dining room. You glance down at Yu and lead her to the kitchen; you can’t help but chuckle at the sight.

Nanami set the table slowly; he didn’t even notice that two of his favorite girls had returned. You felt Yu grip your hand harder at the sight as you cleared your throat to get his attention just in time as he set the last place at the table. When he looked up and saw the two of you, you gave him a reassuring smile. It was okay. It was a huge step, but it was okay. The skin on the right side of his body was bare and burnt and could be considered quite distracting to people who walked by him when he went to physical therapy. His mangled scars traveled up from the side of his face and down to his foot. His right eye was covered with a black eye patch as he stared at his wife and Yu.

Yu’s mouth gasped open as she clutched to your pants leg. You didn’t want to nudge her forward; you were aching to know what was running through your daughter’s mind. Yu’s eyes seemed to be eyeing Nanami, who was standing before them. Nanami feared what his daughter would do and how she would react. He was afraid that his daughter wouldn’t recognize him due to the permanent scars he now had on his body. His palms grew sweaty at the silence in the kitchen. He still remembered the conversation you two had before all of this. He couldn’t shutter away in fear in a situation like this, and it was something Mahito would want.

Yu finally detached herself from your pants, dropping the snack she once was eating and running to hug her father’s leg. The sight shocked you as you watched Nanami lift her in his arms and pull her close. Yu’s small arms wrapped around Nanami’s neck as she started to cry. Your eyes began to burn with your tears, quickly going to swipe them away before you became an emotional wreck. You were happy to see her show that emotion to you and Nanami.

Yu lifts from the crook of Nanami’s neck to say through sniffles, “Daddy, I can’t believe you’re a pirate now.”

You chuckled at her statement before speaking, “How about you two go get cleaned up, and I’ll put the food on the table.”

Nanami put Yu down, and he extended his hand for her to take so she could lead him to the bathroom so they could get ready for dinner. A warm feeling overwhelmed your heart watching Yu drag him away, but she did it so gently, considering that Nanami still used a cane to help him walk better to his destination. You let them get cleaned up while you cleaned up the snack your daughter dropped and finished setting the table.

Dinner felt like a nostalgic feeling—a nice nostalgic feeling that made you smile so hard. Yu was telling you about all the adventures she went on while you were away, from going to the countryside with Nanami’s parents to going to a pig cafe with your friend. She had so many stories to tell that she must have been holding in to tell the two of you.

“And I lost my tooth.” She grins at the two of you as she lets her tongue glides across the place where one of her teeth once was.

“I’m sure the tooth fairy came and visited you,” Nanami adds.

“Yeah,” Yu placed her fork down to dig into her pockets, and she pulled out her yen bills. “Then I also made a new friend at school.”

“You’re one social butterfly,” You said aloud, sipping your water.

“He’s so nice but has an ugly imaginary friend.” Yu shoved her mouth with vegetables leaving both Nanami, and yourself stunned at her words.

“Sweetheart, it’s not very nice to call someone ugly. Even if it’s an imaginary friend.” Nanami glances at his daughter, who lets out a familiar dramatic sigh he has heard from you.

The blonde-haired male tends to forget that his daughter had a carbon copy of your personality. He watches as she pushes her vegetables around her plate before speaking again, “It’s just his imaginary friend who makes weird noises, and it looks like they make my friend unhappy.” Yu explained

Nanami’s head tilts in curiosity, hearing his daughter describe something he was acquainted with. His hold on the fork tightened as he realized what his child was describing, and his stomach formed the most monstrous knots. He took a sip of water as he watched you grab hold of his hand and give it a nice squeeze.

“How long have you been seeing this imaginary friend?” You asked.

“Hm, since Monday,” Yu admitted.

“How about we invite your friend over? Hm?” Nanami asked.

“Really?” Yu questioned excitedly.

You made eye contact with Nanami. You didn’t want him to push himself so much that he was uncomfortable. “Are you sure about that?” You questioned as you collected Yu’s plate in front of her.

“It’s okay.” Nanami gives you a grin. “We’ll just have to ask the little guy's parents, that’s all.”

Dinner continued with laughs and stories. Yu was so excited just to see her two parents together again. She couldn’t stop discussing everything she wanted to show you and Nanami. Even as you wrapped up dinner and told her to get ready for bed—she begged Nanami to help her. Due to Nanami being the girl dad he was, he couldn’t resist that charming smile and the puppy dog eyes Yu gave him when she wanted her way.

“I’ll meet you in our room when I’m done. Make sure she brushes her teeth.” You smile as Nanami pecks your lips and watches him disappear towards the stairs with your energetic daughter.

NANAMI’S FINGERS GRASPED AT THE FLUFFY PINK TEDDY BEAR AFTER HE HAD TUCKED YU IN. Nanami Kento hasn't done this in months. He hadn't tucked his daughter in and placed a soft kiss upon her forehead in months, and the feeling felt so foreign to him even though he had held her so close when she was only a tiny baby. Or the fact that he witnessed her take first steps towards not him or his lovely wife Y/N, but freakin’ Gojo. Then Nanami couldn’t forget holding her hand as he walked into her first dance class.

Yu looked at him as if he was the whole world—as if he was her protector and knight in the fairytale world that she dreamt about. Now, the guilt and the harsh stab in his heart hit him that he possibly wasn’t strong enough to protect her however he wanted. How can he protect something he promised to protect when she was just a baby now that his scarred hands shook doing simple tasks like tying his shoes, and when he closed his eyes, his nightmares were filled with him.

“Daddy?” Yu broke the blonde-haired male out of his thoughts as she looked at him. “Where’d you go? Mommy said you went away for work.”

He sits on her bed, and his weight causes the mattress to sink. He felt that question was coming; she just didn’t feel comfortable asking just yet. “Yes, I did. I just got hurt while doing so,” His lips form a reassuring grin that he hopes she will return.

Instead, her chocolate brown hues only lit up in curiosity. It was a look he had seen in Y/N’s eyes many times when he stepped into the medical room at the Kyoto school. Yu snuggles closer to the teddy bear in her arms before asking, “Does it hurt? Mommy can make you feel better with her mommy powers, or Auntie Shoko can help you..” She then flashes Nanami a smile, and it just hits Nanami that his little girl was missing one of her front teeth.

She extended her hand, and Nanami’s scarred one held on to it. He watched her small thumb rub against his hand with a small smile. “I missed you, Daddy.” Her eyes start to water, and the waterworks begin.

He cradles her in his arms so tightly, similar to when she was only a tiny baby in his arms years ago. Nanami didn’t want to let go. He held onto his daughter until she fell asleep with dried tears staining her cheeks. When he tucked her in tightly with her favorite stuffed teddy bear next to her, he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“I will protect you forever, no matter what, princess.”

After those words, he knew she probably wouldn’t remember, he turned off her room light. The only thing that illuminated Yu's room was a nightlight plugged up near her bed while Nanami closed the door just a bit for it to be cracked.

Nanami settled in bed after showering. With one of his favorite books in his hand, he didn’t even notice that Y/N had skipped into the room after checking on Yu one last time before bed. The oversized Star Trek shirt that once was owned by Nanami hugged your figure, and with each step, you took to climb into bed—Nanami could get a glance at the cup of your butt.

Y/N climbed into bed, and Nanami expected her to snuggle up close to him like she usually does when he reads before bed. She’ll always tell him how comforting his voice is when he reads aloud to her. Subtle jokes about how he could have been a speech coach or something instead of fighting curses. He wished his life was as simple as that. Instead of being scouted to go to a school to fight curses, he would have lived an everyday life. He would meet Y/N in a hospital in another life because now that he’s been married to her for years, he couldn’t fathom another life where she wasn’t a part of it.

Nanami’s chocolate brown hues scanned over the words of the book he was wearing as he felt the weight of Y/N climbing on top of him. Her tummy was now supporting his book as she glanced down at him, and when his eyes finally looked up from his book—his lips formed a crescent moon-shaped smile at the sight. She hadn’t wrapped her hair yet, so her kinky coils were sprawled all over her head like a golden crown.

“I missed you, you know? I missed this.” She says as her teeth grind against the plump lower lip.

Nanami folded the corner of the page; he stopped reading and closed the book. He placed the book on the oak-colored nightstand, and his hands found comfort on Y/N’s waist. “Me too.” He answered truthfully.

“I can tell, Ken,” Y/N says lowly as her hips rock against Nanami’s bulge, which displays how much he had missed his wife since his months of being away.

His fingers tiptoed up the shirt, but he soon snatched his scarred hand away in embarrassment. The insecure feeling of his rough and tainted fingers caressing something so soft as his face grows red. Y/N’s eyebrows raised in confusion because he didn’t want to touch her. She didn’t take offense to it, considering that she knew this was something Nanami would have to get used to. That half of his body was permanent with scars that she would help him love.Y/N tugged her shirt over her head, tossing it on the floor. Her hand grasped Nanami’s scarred one and she kissed his knuckles before placing his hand on one of her breasts.

“It’s okay. I want your touch. I crave your touch.” Y/N says. She guided Nanami’s hand up and down her soft brown skin before she began to rock her hips again. She knew Nanami was enjoying because, through the curls that fell in her face with each rock of her hips, she saw how his chocolate brown eyes lit up. “And I can tell you’re craving my touch also. You’ve missed me so much, didn’t you?”

Nanami’s words were so caught up in his throat that he didn’t even know how to respond. His mind couldn’t focus on everything all at once because he wanted to do so much for Y/N. His scarred index and middle finger rolled her nipples in between them, gaining a moan from her, and it hit him hard at how much he missed this. He missed seeing how Y/N’s eyes fluttered close in pure bliss when he touched and kissed her. He’s so eager to get out of his boxers that he didn’t even catch the way she had some shit-eating grin on her face.

But it was another thing that Nanami adored. He adored seeing that expression on Y/N’s face when he finally slid in. The way she would chew on her lower lip to muffle a moan when he had only slipped his tip inside her. Which only would cause Nanami to finally shove his cock further inside her just to hear her yelp out his name and have that dreamy expression on her face.

That same expression she had on her face right now that Nanami’s cock was inside of her. A look of affection that the retired sorcerer missed so much. His hand grasped her waist, guiding Y/N’s hips in a pleasurable, rhythmic pace for both of them. Y/N props her hand on Nanami’s chest to help her balance upon riding him. Moans trembled out her mouth with each roll of her hips, and she had only had Nanami on her mind. It was quite strange how he could plague her brain like a catchy summer tune. That was just the type of spell he had on her.

Nanami tried his best to thrust upward just to hit the spot that had Y/N speaking one of the languages she knew, but it had only taken a toll on his body, and Y/N noticed immediately.

“I got it, Ken. Just relax.” Y/N’S leaning down, kissing at the corner of his lips (specifically the side that’s decorated with burn marks and soon his lips as she cocked to bounce upon his cock. “I know you want to ensure I’m getting more out of this than you.” She adds.

“Y/N…” Nanami breathed out. “I just want to make—”

His words were cut off by her, “Make sure I orgasm; when do you not make me orgasm?” She glances down at him.

“Can I take care of you for once? Hm?” She asked that question with a roll of her hips for each word and syllable that left that pretty mouth of hers.

And Nanami’s brain turned into mush, his face got so hot, and his balls grew heavier. The only answer he could give to Y/N was, “Fuck.”

“Good answer.” She cockily responds before her hand reaches at the headboard to help her ride him some more.

The mess built between their naked bodies was driving Nanami insane but in a good way. After months of being touch-deprived due to surgeries and physical therapy, he needed this. He relaxed under Y/N; he let her take control until he could feel himself about to cum.

“I’m about to—Shit,” Nanami uttered. Before he could say anything else, Y/N could feel the thick ropes of cum shooting inside of her. She’s leaning down, capturing his lips upon his and slowly grinding against him to ensure his cum stays inside of her.

When the kiss broke apart, Nanami looked up at his wife as if he had hearts in his eyes. “I fuckin’ love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N giggles through her subtle pants.

With the Star Trek shirt back on Y/N’s body, which was now stained with the scent of Nanami and sweat, she glances over at her husband, who is sincerely thinking about something. She hoped he still wasn’t thinking about the scars on his body. “What’s on your mind?” She glances up at him through her eyelashes.

“Yu can see curses now.” Nanami looked at his wife. “She’s only five.” He adds with a sigh.

Y/N hated to admit that her assumptions of what their daughter told them during dinner were accurate. She felt like Yu was too young to see them and finally realized that her world was much different than her friends in class. But Yu had two amazing parents. Two parents would guide her through this. Due to Nanami being the wonderful husband he was, it was as if he read Y/N’s mind.

With a sly grin and a quick, playful peck on the tip of Y/N’s nose, he says, “We’ll guide her through it, though.”

━━ ♡ // @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @unknownspecies @violxtbxbyy @kama-star @superluckystar @minniecums @neesiewrote @lisia-primary @plopifuee @discobeachbarbie @yeagerfushiguro @dontmockwhatilove @omb-lnn @sukunasdirtylaugh @zu8her @loveupeople @atiny-dazzlinglight @p00pdev1l @macxera @onlybambibambi @dior-fawn @sleepysnorlaxsblog @mstsukii @jujutsukaisenfan @adcree @aichaaa @sexlapis @syomi @si00p @madness1999sworld @pt6dio @daisynik7 @woahhajime @blaxxbutterfly

thanks for reading, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #anime x reader #anime smut #black reader #x black reader #jjk x black reader #anime x black reader #female reader #fem reader

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janumun · 3 months

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A Lemurian’s Guide to Love (LaDS Rafayel – General NSFW Headcanons)

Rated: NSFW/18+ Tags: oral and vaginal sex, body worship, fingering, praise kink, facial, hand kink, Rafayel shenanigans, allusions to spoilers for Rafayel’s myth dates, certain ASMRs and his character story Words: ~3k

Author’s Notes: The chokehold this man has on me (!!!) has led me to exploring Rafayel’s sexual foray as well as smidges of how I imagine his relationship to progress with his beloved in these headcanons.

Please take careful note of those tags and rating and proceed at your own discretion!

With that said, I hope you enjoy your read.

Rafayel has stood by and waited for you; over the course of several years — from that fated meeting and the result: a promise borne and broken — and through the descent of the sands of time.

And while he likes to consider himself a patient man — and to a degree, he has been just that; endurance incarnate over the course of those long, arduous years without his beloved at his side — when he does finally come across you, Rafayel finds his resolve ripple, and then gradually implode, into paper-thin fragments of yearning and fond desire.

From how Rafayel oft presents his public persona to the world — cool and dispassionate; a tepid smile on the ready for strangers who wish to garner his favour or attentions, one wouldn’t even think to scratch past that surface. The task of avoiding unnecessary engagements, especially since his return to Linkon City a few years prior, preceding his debut as an artist, is one he finds particularly cumbersome.

But during intimate moments, reserved for just the two of you, you see that exact same Rafayel — that handsome, charismatic artistic talent plastered, glossy, across covers of magazines and billboards — mould into silly scowls. A flair for the dramatics the minute he senses your attentions are not his alone for the taking. Ridiculous and feline-like in his excuses of demands from his ‘bodyguard’, to allow him her company.

After an endurance survived this incredibly long, he finds that in certain matters, he can no longer wait.

Great Lemurian entity he may be, but his habits fit firmer akin to a cat’s rather than any fish you’ve kept as a pet.

He likes to tease and prod at you, wind you up and then, burst into subdued laughter the moment you take his bait. He’s frighteningly adept at stringing you along to his whims, a certain boyish charm you’ve never seen him utilize on any of his vast majority of fans in public.

He loves to drag you out to impromptu sea-shell collecting ‘dates’ along the shores of Whitesand Bay, to capture the perfect pearlescent pink and silvers, to grind into paint on days he moans of “not having enough inspiration to paint’.

Tows you along for long drives in the vermillion convertible he was provided by Thomas, purchased from Rafayel’s private funds [the correct color he insisted on getting for the car before a poor Thomas was finally able to fulfil his request].

Had you both stranded miles away from home once, when he had a punctured tire and ‘forgot’ to ensure he had a spare to change, in case of emergencies.

And when you biked him back the rest of the way on a rental bicycle, you had the very nagging suspicion he wasn’t too upset about the mishap as he hummed an odd tune, seated behind you. Bodies close enough you felt the gentle vibrations of his voice deep within your bones, along with the steady movement of the tires hitting the paved road.

Truly a feline more than any amphibious creature.

A wondrous man, a delightful dissonance of character.

That very same man, when the two of you hold each other for the first time:

His digits scour a delicate path across your face, your jaw, down your neckline; Rafayel is incredibly, uncharacteristically quiet the first night you are his. Bathed a sterling blue under the watery gaze of the moon. Save for the thick hitch of his breath with the unveiling of bare skin, he is mute.

His eyes, however, a crisp indigo, seem to set an inextinguishable fire to the rest of your clothes.

He observes — engraves into memory — first with his gaze, and then, his fingers follow. Long, tapered digits mapping the shape of your breasts, thumb denting gentle at the peaks of them. A grip he tests, firm, against the supple flesh of your waist, flaring outwards into the soft squish of your hips.

He makes a sound then; incoherent, incomprehensible. Perhaps, an unconscious break of language into his native Lemurian tongue; the hoarse, barely compacted passion of it, however, conveyed to you in feelings.

You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Your first night is incredibly long, Rafayel shows you truly what it means to be made love to, you nearly weep of joy and pleasure.

He has waited, oh he has pined and wanted, for so long. It’s a surreal and soul shattering experience for him, just the blessing of you naked underneath his fingers alone, has all of Rafayel’s pretenses unravelling, all masks and facades falling away.

The first time, there is no teasing, no hiding.

Rafayel is immaculately thorough in his exploration of your body. His fingers; his preferred medium of following the swells and dips of his canvas — your body.

Unfortunately, and yet so very delightful for you; he takes his time sketching across your body throughout the night, providing no chance of rest or relief from the torrential waves of pleasure he crests through your body. His eyes trained fast on your face, for every slight quiver and break of you, witnessing your response to each single pinpoint of pleasure his fingers brush against.

Responding obedient to pleas of “oh, there, right there, Rafayel.”

This very first time, the sounds of you alone, moaning his name, could bring him to completion but he resists. Your pleasure, first and foremost, in his near-tunnel vision.

When the calls of his name upon your lips become unbearable, with the curve of his index and middle up into your warm wetness, Rafayel caves, like sand carried back into the depths of the sea, underneath the unrelenting break of waves. Long fingers indenting into pliant thighs as he cleaves them up and apart for unobstructed access to your weeping slit and presses a parched tongue to lap up your essence.

Curling his tongue up into your fluttering walls as his fingers dance against the tight bead of pleasure in between your legs, to the steady compresses of your thighs against the strength of his shoulders.

Rafayel adores and encourages your honesty in bed.

Ready to slow down when and if you tell him how overwhelmed you are. Takes you faster when you beg him to make you come with his mouth. All the while, that dark azure gaze is fixated upon you, the flush beneath them turned a deeper crimson with each sound of satisfaction he triumphantly plucks out of you.

Lashes descending involuntarily, only when you crest at the peak of your pleasure and flood yourself onto his waiting tongue. The taste of a delectable sea; he laps up every single drop of until he is sated.

And it is only when you implore Rafayel to put his cock inside you does he startle at the negligence of his body; hard and leaking, soiling the sheets beneath him.

When you finally, finally connect, painfully slow; the push comes without resistance offered, from how wet he has had you from his ministrations, for a good part of the night.

Rafayel has to struggle to breathe at the sensation of your warmth around him, tight, herculean control the likes of which he hasn’t ever had to scrabble for, ever in his life. To not just spill the moment he is inside you.

Her pleasure, I want to feel it. I want to make her feel good.

Still the sole thought behind that glazed, hot gaze. A moment of odd, emotional vulnerability when your eyes finally lock, your hands wandering now, to cup across his face.

And when he begins to move, Rafayel needs to feel each and every single part of you with every single fibre of his own. Fingers resuming their trek of their now favorite canvas as you murmur love and praise into his ears. The weight of a breast hefty against one large palm, the other with his fingers intertwined through yours as he propels into you.

Both of your releases, one and the same; as his eyes remain on the scrunch of your brow, just before he too falls, burying his face against the crescent of your neck.

Rafayel’s style of love-making is firmly passionate.

It is emotional, relieving and often times fun. He is incredibly adept at reading your cues and adjusting his pace according to your wants. Sex, in his mind, is an activity, as deserving of time and patience as his art — an intricate worship — and hence he usually requires the two of you have those several, long hours to spare before he gets to undressing you. Quickies, as such then, he isn’t a massive fan of.

Neither public spaces — a private dressing room at one of his events, requiring the two of you to be out within a certain time period — no matter how desperate or wanting he might be. Silencing your own protests with a long, hushed kiss and a skewed mischievous, flushed smile that has your heart quivering inside your chest. “Be a good girl now and wait,” he remarks before setting your disheveled collar back in order. The graceful sweep of his hand; for you to take, once you are done, ready to escort you out into the venue.

Open but private spaces, however, where you have time to spare and none to disturb, his private beach behind his home, is where you might find yourself spread wide across soft cloth. The cool waves of the shore lapping gentle at your tightly furled toes while Rafayel’s mouth works at the slick in between your legs. Truly his idea of a well-enjoyed romantic date.

On the note of basking in the benevolence of seas, Rafayel loves giving oral as much as he enjoys receiving it.

He isn’t incredibly vocal when it comes to giving voice to his desires, for having your mouth on him, often because he is more than happy [and engrossed] to have his mouth do all the talking (and lapping), while you luxuriate underneath the feel of his tongue and lips, like the [his] Queen you are. He loves servicing you to completion, no matter how much his tease of a foreplay may point to, otherwise.

It is only when your mouth takes him in for the first time, on your request do you make the delightful discovery of Rafayel’s little give-aways. The quiver of his fingers threaded firm through your hair. The clench of a fine toned abdomen, ripples of tight pleasure splaying across his torso.

“You’re doing so well, baby— hah, just like that. What have you done to me? You’re so good.”

The drop of his jaw, the fine, dark dusting of red smeared across his cheeks and ears. His slow, stuttered groans and pants. A deliberate suckle at his tip has him throwing his head back at the sensation, fingers spasming against the back of your skull. Your own resistance shattering and you take him in whole, the moan that chokes out of Rafayel’s throat in reward for your efforts is heaven enough, you keep returning for more.

Rafayel is loud and has no shame in showcasing his love and desire for you through the sounds he makes, just for you.

Part of the reason also why he prefers privacy to public displays of affection or quick sexual encounters. And he encourages just the same for you.

Be it the sounds of appreciation that leave his mouth, muffled and undulating, into your pussy or while he is inside of you, enjoying every single inch of your drenched, clenching flesh against his length.

“If you squeeze me that hard, I’m going to—”

Words fracturing apart into a long, stuttered moan he presses right against your lips. Foreheads slick with the sweat of your desires as he bears down against you. Bright blue gaze meeting yours — the gentle florid fringe of pinks — steeped in pleasure as his fingers curve about your jaw, pleading a kiss from your lips.

“My pretty girl.” A flushed devastating grin. “Let me come inside you. I want to feel the way your body clamps around me when I do. Gods, please.”

Rafayel is an immensely flexible lover. No rules are set in stone, no bedroom innovations entirely over-ruled before the two of you knock it at least once.

There is no sole lead; only the steps you weave in between you two, together. He is receptive to a wide variety of tastes and kinks; ever the most studious, eager participant, save for the rare personal boundary or two, he has set in place (see above: feelings regarding public sex).

Grasping your hand to fold a kiss against your palm as he moves within you. Bidding on sex-hoarse whispers to entrust yourself to his care while he sets to plunging your entire being into flames, pleasure so exhilarating you’re left grappling for air by the end of it all. All the while, he shapes his marks of adoration against your skin, soothing warmth to set nerves lax from all their previous exertion.

Or, when you ask it of him, supplicates himself — a willing, grinning participant — loving, puckish desire set to blaze within his dark eyes. Tracking each single move, the delicate fingers that sketch against his heaving abdomen, the hand that moves to enclose his cock in between eager digits and pump, slow: a delectable torture. And he responds in kind to your enthusiasm, if you leave his mouth unbound and able — sings for you as you so enjoy, in that rapturous voice you so adore. Lent a lascivious flavour from how his head rolls back across his neck in the throes of incoming release, the flush of him flooding down across his chest from how aroused he is for you to be doing what you are to him.

The sight of him in his entirety is enough for your own patience to wear paper-thin, drenched wet from the erotic picture he paints beneath you.

Rafayel’s house is a mess.

...Something he often brushes off as personal ‘creative choices’, declaring he finds a certain order to his disarray of things strewn about.

The colors he knows exactly where to pluck off the floor of his studio. A second draft of an upcoming painting, pinned underneath a [fish] magnet against the kitchen cabinet. A spare shirt draped across the arm of a sofa for when he wants to quickly switch out of pigment-stained clothes in between paintings.

However, he takes special care to keep his bedroom — or at the very least, on worse days, one sofa — in acceptable, spruced order. Especially so, after you start coming over to visit or stay the weekend, accompany him on days he holes himself up in his house, to pore over an artwork. Often so preoccupied, by the time he snaps out of it, several hours later: to a velvet sky outside and you scrunched up in an upright position, with your head coasting sideways at an uncomfortable angle, in your sleep.

The first and last time that happens as he carts you into his arms and off to his bedroom to tuck you into his bed and insists you retire to his bedroom on your own, the next morning, whenever you feel like dozing off. Making a point, then onwards to always have it ready and at your disposal.

For sleep and when you’re both not; tangled within each other and the sheets, cooling down from your highs.

Rafayel craves chaste physical intimacy post-coitus as he drags you into his arms, your breath warm against his chest. He despises being away from your comfort for even a moment’s breath; extra adorable and tetchy in his phase of dramatics if you try and squirm away.

Has startled you on one particular occasion; hunched, stark naked, by the door of the bathroom as you stepped out of it. A frown knit in between his brow, a disagreeable moue to that beautiful mouth and a simple, “I’m cold, warm me.”

An amalgamation of just how Rafayel is like and something else; deeper, you suspect it stems from unspoken fears of loneliness. There are nights you don’t quite understand, when his emotions run rampant and his need for physical affirmation and constant connection are strong; the man immediately soothed to rest the moment your hand is across his cheek, fingers caressing down the sculpt of his jaw. Tiring him at last into exhausted sleep. A vulnerability to his visage only you are allowed to stand witness to.

There is something so incredibly erotic about his girl when she lets him put his cock against her mouth...

Testing every single mental fortitude, he has ever had thrown up, walls of iron built over the course of centuries, crumbling at the feeling of your wet mouth against his length. Drawing him in before you swallow him, right to the base.

Taking his seed down your throat like the damn, amazing girl you are but if you pull back at just the right moment, firm fist bringing him to spill against your cheeks, traversing down the arc of your neck—

Rafayel’s thoughts frizzle into a numb void, mouth agape and panting. A scarlet flush dashed across the ridge of his cheekbones, his ears, to witness your face dirtied by smears of his cum. The sight truly untethers a carnal, primitive want in him, he isn’t able to fully parse himself.

Truly imprinted upon as the bride of the Sea God.

Your sexual sessions are more often than not, kicked off on sensual, fun notes and back-and-forths.

A stray jibe you might throw his way at one of his odd habits and he’s plucking you right off your feet. Nimble digits feathering down the expanse of your abdomen in retaliation before you’re reduced to giggles; both of your fingers catching at the other’s clothes in an attempt for dominance before you drift, natural, against the other’s mouth in soft, scheming smiles.

Or, when you reach to strike the firm muscle of his behind, the sweet, silly twist to his mouth right as he startles, an indignant, scandalized gaze he rolls your way. “Why, you—” Before you reach to grasp him by the collar and drag down towards your waiting, open mouth. Lips drawing wide into a smile as you feel his reciprocated urgent squeeze across your ass; the pads of his fingers tracing the lining of your panties beneath your skirt. “Don’t make me return the favor several fold, pretty siren.”

The bite of restive teeth he sinks into his lower lip as he hauls you up and against his rigid length. Before you reach forward, disengaging his lip, to suckle it into your own mouth. “Try me.”

The act itself leaning more into the romance of the moment and slow, deep thrusts into your body as Rafayel drifts against you. Mouthing every piece of spare skin in sight, affirmations and assurances as clear and heard as the moans that tumble from his lips.

Link to Master List

#lads rafayel #lads rafayel smut #ns/fw text #lads smut #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace headcanons #lads headcanons #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #l&ds rafayel #rafayel #lads x reader #janussary

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jettingtothemoon · 2 months

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Daughter of the Spirits; chapter 12

➳ pairing: zuko x f!reader ➳ genre: a retelling of the show from season 2 onwards with a heavy focus and expansion on zuko’s story (canon divergent) ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut (underaged if your age of consent is above 16), spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the show ➳ word count: 3570 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n comes across the fire nation prince during her stay in Ba Sing Se. ➳ tags: @harmlessoffering, @lammello (i’m sorry if i’m forgetting anyone, lmk if i am or if you want to be added)

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13,

A New Start

The western air temple, that is where Zuko was sure the avatar would go. It was the nearest place for them to regroup and recuperate. They would be safe there. Well, as safe as they could be. So, the western air temple was where you went.

“We should be careful. They, uh, they probably won’t be very happy to see me,” Zuko stated as he prepared the ropes, making sure they were tight enough for you to safely climb down into the temple.

“You’ve been chasing after them for the better half of a year now, but they haven’t seen you since Ba Sing Se. It was Azula who tried to kill the avatar, not you. I’m sure they’ll be able to find it in their hearts to give you a second chance.”

“Well,” his tone was almost high in guilt as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “I might have hired an assassin to hunt him down when I found out he was still alive.”

“Zuko!” you yelled, scowling at him.

He hushed you, clearly afraid that someone nearby might hear you, and avoided your angry gaze. “I know, I know. It was a bad idea but it was before I… before I decided to be good.”

You sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few moments and dispelled your anger with a long exhale. A was a trick your mother had taught you when you were young, one that always helped you keep a cool head. It was a teaching Zuko could certainly learn from as well.

Zuko was quick to descend into the temple after that, tugging on the rope when he reached the bottom to let you know it was safe for you to follow. He seemed lost in thought when you landed beside him, the sound of your feet hitting the floor hadn’t even caused him to glance your way.

Then came the sound of a beast, a sound the both of you recognised all too well. Zuko grabbed you and jumped back, making sure to conceal you both as the avatar’s bison flew overhead. He narrowed his eyes before gesturing to a staircase behind you both. “Come on, up here.”

It didn’t take you long to realise that Zuko had been here before, likely on his search for the avatar, which meant the last time he had visited this temple was with his uncle by his side. You could only imagine how strange it must have felt for him to have been here now, still in search of the avatar but this time as a friend.

Zuko insisted you took a moment to rest before seeking out the avatar and his friends. He joked and said the two of you would need all your energy if they turned hostile and chased you away but you knew what was really troubling him.

He, Prince Zuko, was nervous. Nervous of how they were going to react when they found him. Nervous of how he would speak to them. He wasn’t the most sociable person, as you both knew, and he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted to be sure he wouldn’t say the wrong thing, especially when he knew that he was the last person any of them would want to see.

When he was ready and had finished practising his introduction to a nearby toad — much to your own amusement — he took a deep breath and slumped to the ground.

With a soft smile, you sat down in front of him. “It’ll be fine. Just speak from the heart, tell them that you want to help — that we want to help. He’ll need someone to teach him firebending and I doubt he’s got too many options. They’ll come around.”

“Yeah, okay. Speak from the heart. I can do that.” He smiled back at you and pulled himself to his feet with a newfound determination. At the very least, having you by his side helped boost his confidence.

You approached the flying bison as it came to land, frowning just a little when the two of you had gone unnoticed and the avatar and his friends began to climb off on the other side.

“Oh, and you’re gonna love the all-day echo chamber!” the avatar exclaimed, clearly excited to show his friends around one of his people’s temples.

Just hearing his voice almost made you excited too but the looming fear that the conversation you were about to have wouldn’t go well was weighing too heavily on your chest. Zuko only wanted to help, you only hoped they would understand that. At least they had no reason to doubt you, other than the fact that you were once again approaching them by Zuko’s side, but you had tried to help them back in Ba Sing Se. Surely they would remember that.

“I think that’ll have to wait,” the young girl whom you remembered to be called Toph spoke, clearly noticing your presence with her earthbending.

The bison moved aside, revealing both you and Zuko, who raised his hand with a smile. “Hello, Zuko here.”

All four of the group adopted a defensive stance with angry scowls on their faces, clearly expecting you and Zuko to attack. To try and show them you came in peace, you both stood at their mercy, neither of you raising your arms to fight.

“Hey, we heard you guys flying around down there so we just thought we’d wait for you here.”

The bison was the only one to move, roaring loudly before licking Zuko from his feet to the top of his head.

You chuckled as you watched the creature’s clear display of affection. “Looks like someone remembers you.”

When the bison licked his face again, the avatar finally lowered his staff with wide eyes. Not that you could blame them for their confusion since there was no way they could have known it was Zuko who had freed the bison back at Lake Laogai..

Zuko rubbed the slobber from his face as he spoke, “I know you must be surprised to see me here.”

The watertribe boy, Sokka, frowned. “Not really since you followed us all over the world.”

Awkwardly, Zuko looked away. “Right… Well, uh, anyway, what I wanted to tell you about is that I’ve changed… and I, uh, I’m good now and well, I think I should join your group,” he looked at you and corrected himself, “we should join your group. Oh, and I can teach firebending… to you.”

The four of them only grew more confused, their eyes flicking between you and Zuko. They seemed to be thinking but they had still not let down their guard. Getting them to trust either of you, especially Zuko, was going to be no easy task.

“See… I, uh—”

“You wanna what now?” Toph cut him off with far too much anger residing in her soft features, her jaw almost clenching as she made it clear she thought what Zuko was saying to be crazy.

“You can’t possibly think that any of us would trust you, can you? I mean how stupid do you think we are?” Katara snapped before turning her attention to you, “And you? You may have tried to help us back in Ba Sing Se but even now you’re still with him? Don’t you remember all the things he’s done?”

Sokka chimed in next, he too wishing to say his peace, “Yeah, all he’s ever done is try to hunt us down and capture Aang!”

“I’ve done some good things!” Zuko cut in, trying his hardest to defend himself, “I mean, I could have stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I set him free. That’s something.”

The bison licked him once again, proving to them all that he at least approved of Zuko being there.

“Appa does seem to like him,” Toph concluded and finally began to let down her guard.

“He probably just covered himself in honey or something so that Appa would lick him,” Sokka shrugged, “I’m not buying it!”

You went to speak, hoping that you would be able to sway them, but Zuko beat you to it.

“I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me and I know I’ve made some mistakes in the past—”

“Like when you attacked our village?”

“Or when you stole my mother’s necklace and used it to track us down and capture us?”

The watertribe siblings both stepped forward as they hurled their accusations at him. Zuko had told you that he had hurt them and that they would not be likely to trust him but he hadn’t given all the details. Hearing directly from them some of the horrible things he had done somehow didn’t surprise you but it still hurt to think that he was capable of such things before. He wasn’t that person anymore though and you knew that, you just needed to convince the rest of them of that too.

“Look, I admit I’ve done some awful things,” he confessed and pushed a frustrated hand through his hair, “I was wrong to try and capture you and I’m sorry that I attacked the Water Tribe… and I never should have sent that Fire Nation assassin after you…”

You seemed to realise it before he had because Zuko kept rambling about how he had wronged them and was trying to make things right but all four of them had grown angry once again. They clearly didn’t know that he was the one who sent the assassin after them, not until now.

“Wait!” Sokka cut in again, reaching for his boomerang, “You sent combustion man after us?”

Zuko seemed startled as he realised he had only made things worse but knew that all he could do now was come clean and hope they would eventually come around to the idea of him helping them.

“Well, that’s not his name but—”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your friend!” Sokka remarked with a roll of his eyes, looking about ready to pounce.

“He’s not my friend!” Zuko snapped, clearly growing frustrated that they were still being so hostile toward him when he was all but wearing his heart on his sleeve. Not that you could blame them, in their shoes you would have felt the same.

Toph pointed an accusing finger at him with a scowl. “That guy locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up!”

Seeming to notice that the avatar was the only one not shouting at him, Zuko sighed and asked, “Why aren’t you saying anything? You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.”

Without a word, Aang looked at his friends who all shook their heads with a frown. Then, he cast his eyes to you, someone he himself had seen as an ally once. You pleaded with him without words, silently begging him to give the two of you a chance.

Finally, he spoke, “There’s no way we can trust you after everything you’ve done. We’ll never let you join us!”

Your heart sank in your chest but you were nowhere near as crushed as Zuko. It was his actions that had brought him to this point. All his mistakes and bad decisions leading up to yet another rejection. It only hurt more this time because for once, he really was trying to do the right thing.

“You need to get out of here. Both of you.” Katara glowered at the both of you, her eyes two steely daggers.

Somewhat ready to admit defeat, you moved to place a hand on Zuko’s shoulder to urge him to leave. The two of you would be able to make a difference elsewhere, you were sure of it. Even if the avatar was refusing your help. Before your gentle touch could reach him, however, he burst again and began moving forwards as he flung his frustrated arms in the air.

“I’m trying to explain that I’m not that person anymore!” he cried out, trying one last time to convince them of his sincerity.

The four of them readied themselves once again, clearly taking his frustration as a sign of aggression. Once again, you couldn’t blame them. His notorious temper was getting the better of him again — a temper they had only seen before a fight.

“Either you leave, or we attack,” Sokka exclaimed, once again threatening Zuko.

The prince bowed his head before kneeling before them. “If you won’t accept me as a friend, then maybe you’ll take me as a prisoner.”

“Zuko…” you spoke with a soft breath, worried but also warmed by what he was willing to give up to help them.

“No! We won’t!” With a swing of her arm, Katara sent a force of water flying towards Zuko, knocking him back.

You ran to his side, kneeling in the puddle to help the drenched prince up.

“Get out of here and don’t come back!And if we ever see you again, well, we better not see you again!”

Dejected, he let you help him to his feet and shrugged you off, bowing his head as he walked away.

Before following him, you looked at the four of them, your eyes finally falling on the avatar as you spoke, “I know it might be hard to believe but he really is just trying to help.”

They didn’t utter a word as you followed after him, walking in silence as you left the western air temple.

You couldn’t blame them for their lack of trust in him, or you for that matter, but it still hurt to see Zuko so downtrodden. Finally, he decided to do what is right only to be ridiculed and chased away.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how stupid I am!” he began as he paced up and down, speaking more to himself than you, “I mean, what was I thinking? Telling them I sent an assassin after them? Why didn’t I just say Azula did that? They would have believed that! Stupid!” He groaned again and fell to his knees with a thud.

“You told them the truth, Zuko. That’s all you could have done. You tried and that’s better than not trying at all,” you tried to reassure him but he only flopped down onto his back, letting his hair spill out across the ground.

You sighed and moved to lay beside him, both of you watching the leaves sway in the canopy above. “Your uncle would be proud, you know.”

He turned his head towards you and waited until his eyes met yours before speaking, “You think so?”

With a tender smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you reached up to cup his cheek, smoothing your thumb across his skin. “I know so.”

He smiled back and pressed his forehead to yours, sinking into the warmth of your touch.

“I just… I don’t know what to do now. I can’t go home, not that I want to, and I can’t face my father alone. Not when it’s Aang’s destiny to stop him.”

You pulled back and sat up, stretching your limbs before rising to your feet. “We’ll find those that we’ve lost. We’ll find your uncle and then go search for my parents. If we can help anyone suffering at the hands of the Fire Nation along the way then we will. We don’t have to confront your father head on to make a difference.”

Zuko hummed and closed his eyes only for them to jolt back open when you lightly kicked his side.

“Well, come on then. If we’re going to be fighting firebenders I should at least know some basic moves.”

He crossed his brows and began to sit up, looking at you questioningly. “You want me to teach you?”

You only grinned. “Well, who else is going to?”

“Hmm, since you already know how to hold a flame I think we can start off with some basic techniques.” He returned your smile and stood before you, adopting a stance you had seen him use time and time again.

Standing opposite him, you tried your best to mimic his stance. He circled you, eyes scanning for any flaws, and nudged your knee forward, forcing you into a slightly lower squat. When he came back into sight again, he crossed his arms and hummed in approval.

“Good. Now, take a deep breath in. It is this breath that becomes the energy you need to extend from your body, creating fire.” He returned to his position and demonstrated, taking in a deep breath before punching a fist out in front of him. With a burst, flames shot from his fist, flickering around his knuckles and flew through the air beside you.

You steeled your expression and strengthened your stance, determined to learn at least some control over the element you feared most. As Zuko had done before you, you sucked in a deep breath, focusing on how it felt as it travelled through you. It was similar to the breath you had taken earlier to dispel your anger and you could feel the energy tingle under your skin as you focused it into your fist which curled at your side.

The prince watched on intently, moving to the side as you closed your eyes. When they opened again, you pushed your fist forward through the air with great force and, to your surprise, nailed the move first time.

Zuko clapped, applauding you as he stated, “You’re a natural.”

As the hours passed by, you were relieved to have managed to provide a good distraction for Zuko as he taught you move after move, honing your firebending skills. By the time the sun began to set and the cold night air closed in, you felt much more confident that you would be able to divert attacks from other firebenders by using their own flames against them.

You found some food for the night and made a small fire to keep you warm before cuddling up under a makeshift tent. Although you were worried Zuko would find it hard to sleep with so much still on his mind, you were relieved to find that teaching you had worn him out. His soft breaths hit your ear as he slept with one arm slung around you, holding you close.

The two of you slept for a while before you felt Zuko stirring beside you, sitting up slightly as he called out, “Who’s there?”

You sat up beside him, eyes peering through the darkness to see who or what was out amongst the trees. Before you could do anything though, Zuko pulled you behind him and sprung into action, conjuring a flame as he yelled, “Stay back!”

“It’s me!” a voice you recognised called out only just too late as the girl bended a wall in front of her to block Zuko’s attack.

Both yours and Zuko’s eyes widened when she stumbled back with a yelp, falling to the ground. “You burned my feet!”

Zuko was up before you. “I’m sorry, it was a mistake,” he protested as he began rushing towards her.

Toph backed up, crawling across the ground as she hurled boulders at Zuko. “Get away from me!”

“Let me help you! I’m sorry!” He tried again but the young earthbender only continued to flee.

You were finally on your feet as she yelled at him to get off of her and with one final move of offence, raised a pillar from the ground, sending Zuko flying. You were at his side in a second, already noticing he was hurt as he continued to yell after the girl.

“I didn’t know it was you!” he winced and grabbed his likely already bruising side, “Come back!”

With a cry of anguish he fell to his back and yelled at the world, “Why am I so bad at being good?”

You hushed him and pulled his head into your lap, already running your fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, she’ll be okay. Katara is a healer like me, she’ll be able to help Toph.”

He groaned and sat back up, holding in a sob of pain as he clutched again at his side. “I know, it’s just all I ever seem to do is make things worse.”

You squeezed his shoulder and moved to untie his shirt, reaching over for your waterskin as you pulled it open. The bruise was about as bad as you had expected from such a forceful impact. His skin was turning a dark shade of purple and was littered with painful scrapes and scratches. He sucked in a breath as you placed your hands against his skin, water already swirling around your fingers.

“Shhh,” you hushed him and smiled slightly as he visibly relaxed while the pain began to subside. It had been a while since you had been able to use your healing, what with having been in the Fire Nation for so long, but it felt good to be doing something to help someone again. You couldn’t relieve all of Zuko’s pain, but you could at least heal his physical wounds.

When you finished and whisked the water back into your waterskin, he pulled your hands back to him, placing them on his skin once again, and leaned forward until his head rested against your shoulder.

“They hate me,” he mumbled.

“They just don’t know you. Not the way I do.”

You smiled softly when he looked back up again, his amber eyes searching for refuge in your own. You were the only person who had ever looked at him like that, he realised. The only person to look at him with such tenderness in their eyes — such pure, unbridled love.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13,

#prince zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko smut #zuko angst #zuko fanfic #zuko fluff #atla zuko #atla #zuko avatar the last airbender #avatar #sokka avatar the last airbender #prince zuko x you #prince zuko

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ryker-writes · 11 months

Text

hehehe finished it sooner than I thought

Here's the second part! If you didn't see the first part, you can find it here

Warning: spoilers for book 6

Request rules and Masterlists

Broken Sibling relationships

Idia as a sibling (Broken relationship continued...)

eventually, you and Idia ended up at NRC together

your parents even decided he could bring the fake Ortho with him

all three of you got assigned to Ignihyde

still, Idia avoided you, and you avoided the fake Ortho

it was difficult since Idia always had the robot doing things for him around Ignihyde and the rest of the school

there was one time that it tried to talk to you

"I wanted to try and find a way for you and big brother to make up! We're family, and I think it would make you both much happier if you did. Then we can all play video games together, just like we used to. I really miss that and I know he does to. Don't you miss it?"

of course you did

you wanted nothing more than to play games with Idia and Ortho

but as the Ortho look-alike said that it missed playing games, you could help but think of the real Ortho

and once again, you're brought back to the scene of Ortho being ripped apart in front of you

a memory that served as a constant reminder that this was not the real Ortho

despite the robot's nice request, you couldn't do it

as long as Idia saw that robot as Ortho, you would never be able to be near them

months later, Charon broke into the school and took many students

a few even stopped you saying they needed you back at Styx

if you had to go then your parents must not be at the facility

which meant Idia and Ortho would be going too

not having much of a choice, you went with them back to the Island of Woe

the goal was to gather more data on the overblots at NRC

though you didn't need to do much work, your presence was still required

if anything went wrong they needed a Shroud to help fix the facility

that was your role

to sit there just in case something went wrong

Idia was the one working and running the tests

you were required to be near or in the main control room just in case

so when Styx started having an emergency lockdown, you were there

Idia had disappeared and the staff were saying that they couldn't override it

you quickly entered the Shroud authorization into the system, but it didn't work

the fake Ortho appeared as a hologram in front of you

"Sorry! I can't allow you to stop this."

"What's going on?"

"Me and big bro are working together. We're going to be heroes, just like we said when we were younger! All we have to do is open the underworld and release the phantoms to reset the world. Once that's done, we can do whatever we want! We can all play together again and be happy! You should help us!"

"You can't reset the world! Idia of all people should know that the real Ortho wouldn't want that!"

The robots expression shifted to one more...familiar, and he spoke in a much calmer tone

"I know. But I want you and big bro to be happy. My death has torn you two apart, and I'm sorry. You two deserve to be happy, no matter what it takes."

the hologram then disappeared

that didn't seem like it was the robot talking...it reminded you of Ortho

could he really have been talking to you?

that should be impossible but some part of you was saying that it was the truth

that was the real Ortho talking

he wanted you and Idia to be happy

of course he did

that's just like Ortho

you could feel tears running down your cheeks, but you didn't care

you got to talk to your brother again

Idia...

you want him to be happy too

but is resetting the world really the way to do it?

no, that would only make things worse

you had to help the other NRC students stop him

But there was no way you could face Idia and Ortho like this

What would you even say to help them?

After so long of Idia and you avoiding each other, what could you even say?

You wouldn’t be much help going down into Tartarus with the others anyway

Ever since what happened to Ortho, you can’t bring yourself to face the phantoms

So, you did your best to help them from the main control room

And you watched everything from the cameras

…including Idia’s overblot

You didn’t even think it was possible because of the Shroud family curse, but there he was

and he was attached to a giant phantom

but it wasn't just a phantom

it was Ortho

it used his voice and personality

some of it may be the robot, but you know the real Ortho is also in there

has the blot reached him too?

even though you were just watching through the cameras, you felt terrified

Were you about to lose both of your brothers for good?

but there was nothing you could do aside from watch the others battle Idia

thankfully, they were able to beat him, but Idia and Ortho both fell down into the underworld

Vil jumped after them and pulled Idia out

...but Ortho couldn't be saved

once again, Ortho had died

and it hurt all over again

but at the very least, you got to talk to the real Ortho again

Vil and the other students were talking to Idia about everything, and he closed the gate to the underworld

the others ended up coming out of Tartarus, and leaving, but Idia and you had to stay and fix Styx

he spent some time down in Tartarus before finally coming up

even then, he didn't talk to you

Styx was back up and running pretty quickly after that

and Idia shut himself in his old room again for a few hours

you dreaded what was happening

would he just make another replacement for Ortho?

sure enough, when he came out there was another robot following him

when you and Idia saw each other, he froze

he wasn't avoiding complete eye contact, but he wasn't saying anything

feeling nothing but disappointment in him for making another robot, you left

left him in the hallway, left Styx, left the Island of Woe, and went back to the school

not to long after, the both of them came back too

and things were back to normal for a while

you avoided the robot, and Idia avoided you

except, he didn't completely avoid you anymore

he (or sometimes his tablet) would hover in the same room as you, before sighing and leaving

that was pretty much the extent of it

until one day, there was a knock at your door

when you opened the door, Idia was standing there with the game you all used to play together in his hands

"I...I know that isn't Ortho. He knows it too, and I'm not going to force him to be Ortho anymore. He's developed his own personality...but he still wants to be part of our family. You don't have accept that right away...I just figured...the real Ortho wanted us to be happy. So, uh, do you maybe want to...play a game or two?"

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud #twst idia #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #ortho shroud #twst ortho #ignihyde #ignihyde x reader #i love their sibling bond so much #idia and ortho #twisted wonderland idia

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stevie-petey · 6 months

Text

episode three: holly, jolly

Jonathan, your Jonathan, would never do this. He tries to approach you again but you find yourself stumbling back, knocking against Steve’s chest. Hurt flashes in his eyes, you’ve never flinched at Jonathan’s touch, but what he did has changed everything. Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.” He begins tearing up the pictures, and you can’t believe Jonathan of all people is making you agree with Harrington, yet here you are.

summary: you and jonathan talk it out and things are better (spoiler alert: they aren't), you somehow end up agreeing with steve harrington ?? then you have a minor breakdown in front of the kids and once again fail to prevent them from experiencing more trauma.

rating: general, slight cursing.

warnings: cursing, use of the word “slut”, fem!reader, use of y/n, and description of a dead body. this chapter is pure angst, steve is steve, jonathan is jonathan, and... well. we know how this episode ends.

words: 6.2k

before you swing in: hello ! i'm currently in the early stages of chapter 5, and it's a loooong chapter, so i figured i'd treat y'all to this one before taking my time with updating. this chapter was a bit difficult in terms of bug and jonathan, but i promise that they'll have more time later to really figure out why they keep clashing - for better or for worse lol. if their relationship feels stilted: that's why ! after all, season 1 is literally titled: we don't talk about it or have the time. the title has immense meaning for the overall tone of season 1 (and the song for the series shhh). anyways, enjoy <3

The next day you bike to school alone, not bothering to see if Jonathan’s car will pick you up as usual.

The two of you have never fought before, at least not like this. From the moment you met him when you were twelve, there has never been a time where the two of you haven’t been on the same page. You’ve been in sync from the moment you met.

Now it feels like everything is off between the two of you. It feels as if the tiny planet you live on is now off kilter, angled ever so slightly now, rotating out of sync. The change is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. You can feel it.

Last night just proved that there’s something wrong with your relationship with Jonathan, but you can’t figure out what.

Jonathan has never yelled at you before, and you’ve never turned your back on him; then again, he’s also never kept anything from you. While he didn’t admit it last night, you know him. He was hiding something from you last night and it frightens you that he seems too ashamed to tell you what it is.

You trust him, you do, but the guilt you saw in his eyes makes you uneasy.

As you walk the school hallway towards your locker, you overhear some girls from your English class talking about Steve and Nancy. You normally wouldn’t eavesdrop on such a conversation, but the girls were talking obnoxiously loud and by the tone of their voice, they weren’t being kind about what they were saying.

“I heard Harrington got little Miss Wheeler to sleep with him.” One of the girls giggles, looking around to make sure no one is listening.

“What a slut!” Her friend sneers.

You clear your throat loudly, making sure they hear it, and send a glare their way. “Well, aren’t you guys just peachy?”

The girls lower their eyes and shift uncomfortably, which pleases you. Good. They should feel bad. What does it matter if Nancy slept with Harrington? It’s always the girls who get labeled the slut, never the man who has slept with more girls than classes he’s passed.

Typical.

You roll your eyes at them and continue towards your locker, spotting the couple in question up ahead. Your locker is a few down from Nancy’s and usually you’ve been able to avoid their gross lovey-dovey sessions in the mornings since Jonathan is always running late, but since you didn’t ride with him, you’re forced to deal with two hormonal teens who you don’t necessarily like.

“Hey, Henderson!”

Steve stops you as you walk past, causing you to look up in confusion. “Yeah?”

“How’s Byers doing? Ya know, with everything going on?”

You stare at him, trying to figure out what the punchline is supposed to be. Steve may not be a massive dick, but he’s still a dick, and you can’t imagine he’d ever ask about Jonathan given the fact that he can’t even remember Will’s name.

“He’s… dealing.” You say, uncomfortable with the entire conversation.

Steve nods, letting out a slight hum. “Well, tell your guy that any friend of Henderson’s is a friend of mine.” He sends a wink Nancy’s way, and it’s then that you figure out what he’s doing. He’s playing the nice guy card, trying to impress her with his “generosity”, and you’ve had enough of idiotic and emotionally constipated men these last 24 hours.

“Funny, I don’t tell my friends to get fucked, yet here we are: get fucked, Harrington.” Steve’s eyes widen at your words, taken aback, and Nancy goes to say something but you cut her off. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Nancy. Why don’t you ask him why everyone’s staring at you? I’m sure it’ll be a thrilling conversation.”

You shove past the two of them and make your way to class.

–

You don’t see Jonathan for your next three classes, which only makes your shitty day worse. Not only have you guys never fought before, but you’ve never done the silent treatment either. As far as you can tell, there’s no reason for him not to be in class today besides your fight the night before.

When it’s your lunch hour you try to find him, because at this point you just want to put it all behind you and move on to focus on Will. You never got the chance to tell Jonathan about El last night, you hadn’t had the time to before things blew up.

You wait at your usual corner of the lunchroom for Jonathan, but he never appears. You sigh in defeat and pick at your meal, which honestly looks more like prison food than anything else, trying to figure out what you should do next.

While you’re thinking, Carol’s obnoxious moans carry through the lunchroom. “Oh, Steve! Steeeve!”

Tommy joins in now, banging the table to get a bigger reaction. You see Steve trying not to smile at their antics, but it’s obvious to everyone how uncomfortable Nancy is. You feel pity for her, she deserves better than Harrington and his immature friends. Then again, you suppose she chose this for herself the second she started dating him.

King Steve has never hidden who he is.

You watch as Steve says something to appease her, but something catches Nancy’s eye and she turns to face it. Curious, you turn as well and spot Jonathan staring right back at her. They share a look, one that you can’t decipher, and you feel something twist within your stomach.

It’s not jealousy, at least, not in that way. Jonathan is your only real friend in Hawkins (the kids don’t count, you recognize how embarrassing that is), and you’ve never had to share him before. Clearly Nancy has taken an interest in him of some sort and Jonathan, being ever the private person, has allowed her to, so you just have to swallow down your pride and accept it.

Besides, you did always tell Jonathan that the two of you needed more friends.

Taking a deep breath to will your nerves away, you ditch your lunch and follow after Jonathan. Screw whatever silent treatment is in place, he’s your best friend and you honestly don’t think it’s possible for you to ever be angry at him. It just isn’t in your nature.

For better or for worse, you could never hate Jonathan Byers.

You catch Jonathan as he’s leaving the photo developing room. He’s holding some pictures in his hands but quickly hides them away when he sees you.

“Y/N, hi.”

You ignore the voice in the back of your head telling you that something’s wrong, that he’s still acting weird with you, but you ignore it because you just want some normalcy in your life. You need your best friend. “Hey,”

“Look, I’m so sorry for what I said last night…”

You brush him off, “It’s okay, I promise.”

Jonathan huffs at you, exasperated as always whenever you let people get away with things that they shouldn’t. “No, it’s not okay. You’ve been nothing short of amazing and I was the dick who yelled at you for it.”

The two of you are walking out of the school as you talk, and you let out a weak laugh. “I guess you were pretty awful, huh?”

He doesn’t laugh along with you, instead shaking his head in shame. “You didn’t deserve that, not after all you’ve done for me and my mom. I was lying through my teeth last night, you are family, Y/N.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s genuinely okay-”

“Bug, I was a dick. End of discussion. I just… sometimes it feels like I don’t deserve your help, you do so much for us. I let it get to me last night, and I’ll never stop apologizing for it.”

You don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the vulnerability. “Just… don’t do that again, alright? If something is bothering you I’d rather you tell me about it than take your frustration out on me.”

“Deal.”

“Anything else on your mind?”

Jonathan thinks for a moment and you can tell he’s trying to word whatever is on his mind correctly. “While I know you’ve always loved to help, there’s some things that I have to do on my own, okay? Will, my mom… they’re my responsibility, not yours. I mean, not in a bad way-”

“Hey, I understand. I need to back off a bit, I recognize that now. I’m sorry, bee.” You kick at a rock in the parking lot, “so we’ve got ourselves a deal?”

The boy gives you a quizzical look and you laugh at him, extending your hand. When he grabs it, you turn the hold into a handshake. “I’ll calm down my fretting antics and you’ll come to me about whatever is on your mind, no matter what; we don’t hide anything from each other.”

The slight smile Jonathan briefly had on his face vanishes. He pales slightly and quickly releases your hand. “Right.”

You eye him. “Bee, what aren’t you telling me?”

Caught up in conversation, you and Jonathan don’t see Steve and his gang resting against his car until it’s too late.

“Hey, man.” Steve approaches, effectively ending your conversation with Jonathan. He glances at you. “Henderson, good to see you again.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“What’s going on?” Jonathan asks, putting himself between you and Steve.

“Nicole here was telling us about your work.”

Confused, you look at Jonathan. “What, did you start another photo series or something?”

Steve laughs coldly. “You could say that.”

Jonathan ignores him and pulls you close behind him, ducking his head down to whisper into your ear, “it’s not what it looks like, trust me.”

“Bee, what-”

“Henderson, want to take a look with us as, you know, connoisseurs of art?”

You look at Steve now, more confused than ever, but you feel a slight sense of dread. You know that whatever photo he’s about to pull out will be bad. You know it’ll be connected to Jonathan’s behavior last night, to the guilt he’s been carrying, to the way he hid the same pictures from you not even ten minutes ago.

You look back to Jonathan now, silently pleading with him for more of an explanation, but he averts his eyes. Exhaling deeply, you face Steve. “Show me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jonathan says, trying to walk away, but Tommy grabs at his backpack.

“Hey!” You run up to Tommy and start pulling at the bag, but the guy is twice your size and easily wins, accidentally flinging you to the ground.

Jonathan runs over to check on you. “Y/N!”

At the same time, Steve berates his friend. “Woah, Tommy, easy man! Henderson isn’t who we’re here for, leave her out of this.”

Both boys crouch next to you and offer you a hand, but you bat them away. You’re irritated and confused and pissed the fuck off at both of them right now for vastly different reasons. You pick yourself up and brush away some dirt that got on your jeans. “Show me the photos, Jonathan.”

He looks at you, hurt. “Do you not trust me?”

“Do you trust me?” Your words hang in the air.

Steve is now right behind you. “Oh man he’s like, totally trembling. He must really have something to hide.”

Jonathan tries to step closer to you, but Steve is now the one who blocks him. You watch silently as he unzips Jonathan’s bag and pulls out the photos, ignoring the pleading look that your friend sends your way. You trust Jonathan more than anyone else in this world, but something doesn’t feel right.

The photos are tame at first, though admittedly creepy. They’re all still shots of Steve and his friends from the night before, you recognize the famous pool that the whole school talks about when it comes to Harrington’s parties.

“Your boyfriend is a creep, Y/N.” Steve says, nudging you with his shoulder as he continues to flick through the pictures.

“He isn’t my-”

“I was looking for my brother.”

Jonathan’s words make you freeze. “You went looking for Will without me?”

Steve says something else, but you don’t catch it. You stare at Jonathan, hurt that he’d search for Will without even telling you first. He’s his brother, you understand that, but what would you do if Jonathan went missing too?

Nancy then appears, causing Jonathan to finally look up to catch your eye, but he quickly looks away. “Here’s the starring lady!”

She laughs nervously. “What?”

Carol explains what was going on, and you’re too upset to speak. There’s too many thoughts going through your mind, but when Carol flashes you a picture of Nancy, naked, it takes everything in you not to throw up.

Jonathan, your Jonathan, would never do this.

He tries to approach you again but you find yourself stumbling back, knocking against Steve’s chest. Hurt flashes in his eyes, you’ve never flinched at Jonathan’s touch, but what he did has changed everything.

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.”

He begins tearing up the pictures, and you can’t believe Jonathan of all people is making you agree with Harrington, yet here you are.

Nancy is his girlfriend, and even outside of that, Jonathan had no right taking pictures of her naked without her consent. You agree with Steve’s actions, but then the camera comes into play. He reaches for Jonathan’s camera, causing him to dive forward to stop anything from happening to it, and it’s finally what breaks you from your shock.

You react as well, shoving past Steve to try and get to the camera first, but it’s no use. He beats you to it, Carol now holding you back as she digs her claws into your skin. Jonathan is being held back by Tommy, and all the two of you can do is watch helplessly as Steve dangles the camera high in the air.

What Jonathan did was wrong, there’s no denying that, but you know how long it took him to save up for the thing. How many awful shifts he picked up at the theater to pay for it, adamantly refusing any money both you and Joyce offered him to help pay for it.

This camera was his and his alone. Paid for with his own money, bought for his own enjoyment, his pride and joy.

“Here you go, man.” Without even hesitating, Steve lets the camera fall to the ground.

You gasp, watching as the lens shatters and you crouch down to try and piece it back together. Your hands are shaking, you don’t know what to feel right now, but with how badly your hands shake, it’s no use trying to fix the camera; you need something to distract yourself with.

Jonathan and Nancy join you on the ground, but you’re too overwhelmed to really notice them. The combination of emotions leaves you wondering if you’re about to cry, throw up, or both. It’s only when Nancy begins snatching up the torn pictures that you acknowledge her presence.

You grab her hand and catch her eye, “I’m so, so sorry.”

She doesn’t respond, only giving you a slightly confused look, and you recognize how stupid it is that you feel the need to apologize for Jonathan’s actions. You aren’t his keeper, and until now you never even considered he’d do something like this, and yet the guilt creeps in. You open your mouth to say something else, but Steve calls her over to join them and she leaves.

Jonathan is still next to you, remaining silent even after Nancy’s departure. You can feel his eyes on you as you continue to fumble with the broken camera pieces as a gust of wind blows away the remaining photo shreds.

“Shit!” A shard of glass from the lens cuts your finger, drawing blood.

“Bug, let me-” Jonathan grabs at your hand to inspect the cut, but you pull away harshly.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Y/N…” The hurt look on his face is almost enough to make you crack, but the blood drips from your finger and falls onto a picture that somehow didn’t blow away. You look at it, seeing the outline of Nancy’s back in the photo, her beautiful side profile perfectly captured.

The urge to throw up returns.

“You’re hurt, let me look at it.” Jonathan pleads, his voice soft, with more empathy than he’s ever shown you these last few days. It’s as if last night never happened. As if you’re some idiot who is always ready and willing to come crawling back to those who discard you whenever they please.

In a way, you suppose that you are.

You hate it.

Jonathan tries to grab your hand again but you stand up before he can. “I said don’t touch me.”

He tries to grab you once more but again you pull away. Your brain is a mess right now trying to comprehend everything that happened within the last fifteen minutes. You look down at the broken camera pieces still laying on the ground, its glass reflecting in the late afternoon light.

Those photos of Nancy…

God, you’re an idiot.

“Nancy is the reason you were such an asshole to me last night, isn’t she?”

“Y/N, those photos-”

“You knew that the second I looked at you I’d know you’d done something terrible.”

Jonathan is silent beside you, but you don’t need to hear whatever excuse he’ll give you to know that you’re right. Instead of telling you what he did last night, he kicked you out of his home in a guilt-crazed daze, saying horrible things to you that he can never take back.

Instead of being honest with you, he had been a goddamn coward who hurt you in the cruelest way possible.

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, you know I’ve never been able to lie to you-”

“So naturally you resorted to screaming at me and saying we aren’t family-”

“I regret what I said, but how was I supposed to tell you about the photos if I don’t even know why I took them in the first place?”

You start pacing around the parking lot, too overwhelmed to stay put. Jonathan’s words only confuse and upset you more. In the midst of your frantic pacing the cut on your finger begins to bleed more, which causes you to wince and catch Jonathan’s attention.

“Bug, you’re in pain,” his voice is gentle now, the worried crease between his brows now prominent in a way that you’ve always found cute. “I’m not just going to stand around while you’re hurt. Let me help.”

Unfortunately for Jonathan, his words only piss you off more.

“You’re not just going to stand around while I’m hurt? That’s fucking rich coming from you, Jonathan.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This entire week I’ve been hurting! I mean,” you let out a laugh laced with tears threatening to spill out. “I lost Will too, did you ever consider that? And I understand he’s your brother and I would lose my mind if anything ever happened to Dustin, but I’ve done nothing but love and support you through this shit show and you haven’t even asked how I’m holding up. I mean, what kind of best friend does that?”

Shame washes over Jonathan. “I didn’t think-”

“I’ve been exhausting myself trying to help and not once have I considered it a burden because I’m doing this for Will, for you. I’m doing what any decent person is supposed to do, and I’m not asking for praise or-or for a reward but holy fuck, Jonathan! I mean, I understand now that maybe I was bit too much but,”

You’re yelling at him now, all the frustration you’ve been swallowing down these last few days now spills out. “At least treat me like a human being! I mean, the stunt you pulled last night was such bullshit and I was ready to excuse your actions because you’re my best friend and you’re hurting, but then you hide those damn photos from me? Scream at me like I’m some pathetic fucking child because you’re too ashamed of your own actions? We don’t lie to each other.”

Jonathan steps towards you and it isn’t until he’s cradling your head in his hands to wipe away your tears do you realize you’re crying. He’s so tender, gently wiping the tears as they fall, and you feel weak against him, closing your eyes as you soak up the affection.

“Bug…” His voice cracks, not knowing what else to say.

You open your eyes now. “You went looking for Will without me… did you even think about what your mom would do if you disappeared too? What I would do if you disappeared?”

“I…”

“And Nancy…” you pull away so that he’s no longer touching you. “That was a line I never thought you would cross. And to lie to me about it, I just… why?”

Jonathan shakes his head, a few tears of his own now beginning to fall. “I don’t know.”

There’s nothing else you can say; you’ve drained all your energy. A headache is beginning to form and with the parking lot clearing out, indicating the end of the school day, you know you need to leave for work soon.

Normally when you look at Jonathan, you feel a sense of security, but now all you feel is dread. His shoulders are hunched, the bags under his eyes darker than ever, and at this moment you’re not sure you know who he is anymore. It terrifies the shit out of you.

“I should go,” you wipe your nose with your sleeve, side stepping Jonathan as you start walking towards the bike stand.

“You’re leaving?” There’s fear in his voice, and you can hear the undertones of are you leaving me, too?

“I have to work tonight, so I need to-”

“Let me drive you then, it’s cold and-and we can talk more about this-”

He follows you to your bike and you feel such pity for him. You know he’s right about needing to talk more, but all you want right now is to crawl into bed and pretend that this whole week has been a dream. A horrible, awful dream.

You offer Jonathan your hand, the cut on your finger no longer bleeding, and intertwine your fingers with his. “I want to be alone right now, okay? Please, just give me some time.”

He wants to argue with you, you can see it in his eyes, but just like you know him better than anyone else, he knows you just as well. He knows there’s no use trying to change your mind when you get like this; when the feelings become too much and solitude is your only solution. It's happened before in the past, but never with him.

All he can do is wait for you to come back when you're ready.

“Okay, I can do that.”

You squeeze his hand, like you always do, before you let go and bike away.

He watches as you leave.

–

Tonight’s shift is another slow one, which you’re grateful for.

It was just last week that Jonathan had been driving you, Will, and Dustin to school. You’d been singing some song on the radio and the November air had a slight nostalgia of August warmth. Will and Dustin complained about your singing as you wailed on, Jonathan eventually joining in so that the two younger boys could only cover their ears with their hands and groan in annoyance.

Now Will is gone, taking the August warmth with him and leaving behind only November cold that leaves your bones feeling raw.

The laughter is gone, and now you’re afraid that your best friend is gone as well.

You come home to an empty house, a note on the kitchen counter informing you that your mother is at her knitting club and that Dustin is off with his friends.

Wonderful. Your brother has once again gone off on some adventure without informing you first. What a lovely addition to your already horrible day.

You call the Wheeler’s first, hoping that maybe you don’t have to bike around the entire town to find the little shit, but like always: you’re mistaken.

“I’m sorry, but the boys went out biking right after school.”

“Oh, lovely then. Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler, have a good night.”

“You too, dear!”

As soon as you hang up, you allow yourself a moment to just scream. The headache that formed during your fight with Jonathan hasn’t left, you’re tired, you have so much homework that you’re too afraid to even look at, and you still have no idea who El is or what she really knows about Will.

And now you have to bike all around Hawkins to find said girl, because there’s no way the morons have listened to your orders to stay put with her.

You check Lucas’ house first, but Erica tells you that they aren’t there and requests that you inform Lucas that her lying fee has been raised to $5.

“That’s a bit steep, don’t you think?”

“Do you wanna pay?”

“Good point, have a good night then Erica.”

You then search around the middle school, but there’s no sign of them anywhere. After another thirty minutes of nothing, you finally give in to your hunch and bike to the Byers. You’re not sure if Jonathan will be home, but your idiot brother may need you, so you just have to suck it up and check.

Ultimately you’re glad you do, because as you ride up the driveway you see the boys circling around El.

“Why did you bring us here?”

“I have a better question Mike, why did you bring us here?” None of the kids had noticed your arrival, so they all jump at your voice.

Dustin’s face goes pale. “Y/N! What-what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you little assholes for an hour now,” you park your bike and step closer to the kids. “Why do you never listen to me when I tell you guys to keep me updated, huh? Do I have a giant sign on my head that says ‘hey, ignore me and treat me like utter shit!’, is that it?”

No one responds, too stunned by your words. You never cuss at them, and apart from last night, they don’t think they’ve ever seen you so angry before.

“I’m just so sick and tired of people treating me like I’m some throwaway toy, just casting me aside and forgetting about me until it’s convenient. I have feelings too, isn’t that a wild concept? I mean, who knew Y/N Henderson had any real emotions behind her pathetic need to help everyone around her!”

Dustin can hear the hurt in your voice and knows that this isn’t just about them sneaking off. You’re upset about something else, someone hurt you and he needs to know who, so he softly asks, “Y/N, what happened?”

You spin around to face him. “Nothing! That’s what happened! None of you told me anything, everyone has just decided to keep me out of the loop because god forbid I deserve any honesty after years of being there for you guys-”

“Okay, this is definitely about Jonathan then.” Lucas mumbles, which Mike nods in agreement to.

“This is not about Jonathan-” The sound of sirens cuts you off.

Everyone freezes, and your heart stops. This is Hawkins, where nothing ever happens; cops don’t just go flying down the street late at night.

You know, even before you can fully comprehend how, that it’s Will. You can feel it; the sirens are for him, the precious boy you’ve come to love like your own brother.

Then, to confirm your fears, an ambulance follows behind the line of cop cars, and you feel your entire world shatter.

“Will…” Mike exhales, and the second the name leaves his lips everyone scrambles for their bikes to follow the cars.

You know you shouldn’t, you know this won’t end well, but it’s Will. Maybe he’s alive, maybe he simply got lost in the woods and has been wandering around the last three days or so. There’s so many other possibilities, an endless array of explanations, and yet…

Your legs feel heavy as you pedal after the kids. You know that, no matter what you guys end up finding, that nothing will ever be the same again. As you follow, the route you take begins to look familiar, back when you and Jonathan would spend your summers exploring the forest and its surroundings.

The quarry.

Suddenly you can’t breathe. “I… I can’t-”

“Y/N, we have to see if it’s Will!” Dustin calls behind him, too eager to realize exactly where you guys are going.

If you could just warn them, maybe speed up to block their paths, you could convince them to turn around, but it’s too late. The five of you arrive at the quarry’s edge and toss your bikes behind the fire truck. You see the firemen in the water, sloshing around for something, and you realize what they’re doing a second too late.

Immediately you begin to pull the kids away, not wanting them to see what you desperately hope you’re wrong about, but you’re too late. “Guys, get away from the truck, we shouldn’t be here-”

You’re always too fucking late.

“Please, we need to leave,” your voice shakes as you try to shield the kids from the sight of Will’s body being pulled from the water.

Mike pulls away from you. “No, it’s not Will. It can’t be.”

“Mike…”

The firemen lift the raft up higher and the light lands on Will’s lifeless body, and you feel a piece of you die. He’s always been the smallest of the boys, but as the men lift his dead body out of the water, he’s never looked so small. Will is gone; he’s taken all the light with him.

Dustin reaches for your hand and is the first to start crying. You pull him into your chest as he sobs. Lucas looks over at you, a silent acceptance in his eyes. “It’s Will. It’s really Will.”

You grab the boy and pull him into you as well, the two of them now crying as you hold them. All you can do right is hold your boys, staring off into space as you feel them shake with grief against you. This isn’t real.

From the corner of your eye you see El approaching Mike, and you’re too numb to warn her against it. “Mike…”

“‘Mike’? ‘Mike,’ what?” He slaps her hand away, which causes you to become alert. He’s hurting, you know Mike loved Will more than anyone else, but he’ll only hurt himself more if he pushes everyone away.

“Mike, I know you’re upset-”

He faces you, a betrayed look in his eyes. “Upset? She was supposed to help us find him alive. She said he was alive!” he turns to El now, “why did you lie to us? What’s wrong with you?”

As he yells at the girl you hear his own tears beginning to form, and as you hold his friends, you lean closer to Mike and use your other hand to console him, but he begins to run away.

Dustin and Lucas watch helplessly as their friend leaves, you all call after him but are ignored. They beg him to stay, too scared to be separated once more now that Will is gone, but Mike doesn’t listen. He grabs his bike, leaving you and the boys alone with El.

She looks at you, tears in her eyes and a pleading look on her face. She’s looking to you for reassurance, to console her and tell her that everything will be okay with Mike, that he’ll forgive her, but you can’t.

You also feel betrayed by the girl. You don’t think she was lying, in a sense, but then how can she explain Will’s dead body 50 feet away? El promised you and the boys that Will was alive, but he’s not.

Tears start to fall down her face. “Y/N?”

You’re sure that when you look back on this moment later, you will have wished that you had done something braver, something more kind to the terrified girl, but you don’t. Instead of wrapping her into your arms alongside Lucas and Dustin, you give El a curt shake of your head, dismissing her.

It hurts to watch her leave, and you’re ashamed of yourself, but then Dustin lets out another sob while Lucas tightens his hold around you, and you know that you’ve made the right choice for now. You don’t know El or her intentions, but her actions have hurt the people you love the most, and right now you have to put them first.

You let the boys cry, barely registering anything else.

–

Later, much later, after getting Lucas home and tucking Dustin into bed, you finally allow yourself to grieve. You lay in your bed, staring at the framed drawing on your desk that Will had made you for your birthday this year. It was a sweet gift, having drawn you as a princess in one of their DnD campaigns with your sword and shield. Jonathan stands next to you in the picture, holding his own sword and wearing a crown, while Will and the boys are next to him, dressed in their own armor.

In the picture the six of you are facing a dragon, but there’s a smile on all of your faces as you fight the creature together. You, Jonathan, and your boys; together, there’s nothing that you guys cannot defeat.

It’s your favorite drawing of Will’s.

And now it’s your last drawing from him.

The tears come slowly at first, then all at once. You find yourself hunched over, letting out anguished sobs as you mourn for the boy, for Jonathan and Joyce, for your brother and his friends. You mourn for the Byers losing a child, a brother. You mourn for your brother’s now tainted childhood. He’s too young, they all are too young to be experiencing such a loss.

Will was too young.

You cry until there’s nothing left within you, and yet the sobs still wrack against your body long after the tears have dried up. It’s a pain like no else.

Then, as you’re finally beginning to calm down, you hear a knock at your window.

You get up and fling your curtain open to find Jonathan on the other side.

Neither of you say anything as you open the window and let him in. Once he’s inside the two of you face each other, unmoving and silent for what feels like years. There’s still a tension there from earlier, though this afternoon feels like decades ago. Jonathan stares at you, a guarded and unsure look on his face, as though he’s afraid that if he breaks in front of you that you’ll push him away.

Instead, you surprise him by throwing yourself against his chest and into his arms.

You’re not sure who begins to cry first, but it doesn’t matter. His cries only make you cry harder, having never seen your best friend this heartbroken before, and it’s all so fucking unfair. He doesn’t deserve this, no one does, but especially not Jonathan. He loved his brother so much, with such an intensity that rivaled your own love for Dustin.

Jonathan pulls away a bit so that he can look at you; tears stream down his face. “He’s gone, bug.”

“Bee,” you don’t know what more to say. What can you even say? While it feels like your heart has been ripped from your chest along with your bones, you know it only feels worse for Jonathan. No words could ever soothe that ache.

“He’s gone,”

You grab at his jacket and gently guide him so that you sit on your bed. “Jonathan, look at me.” It takes some coaxing, but eventually he listens. “I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

Your voice cracks at the end, your own grief getting in the way, but it’s all you can say right now. You’re not sure how else to phrase it, how else to tell him that even if everything and everyone else is gone, you’re still here. You’ll never, ever leave him, especially not when he needs you the most now.

Despite the vague words, Jonathan nods, always able to understand you, and he rests his head against your shoulder as the two of you cry. Faintly you can hear Dustin’s cries through the wall, but you leave him alone. You know he needs to process this alone, just like you needed to, just like Jonathan had before coming here.

Tomorrow you’ll comfort your brother, you’ll bake the cookies that Joyce loves, and tonight will pass. A day must always end. This day will end, and tomorrow will come. Then, you’ll face this together with everyone you love.

For now, your best friend needs you, so you let him cry into your shoulder and you run your nails against his scalp and whisper soothing words. Fuck whatever is going on between the two of you.

Will is dead. The best of you, the purest of you, is dead.

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⌑ taglist - @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #jonathan my beloved...#i promise he gets better guys #and steve was valid for his reaction to jonathans pics of nancy yall can argue with a wall #and the ending :(#the trauma these kids go through so young is insane

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enassbraid · 9 months

Text

𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧’ 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧’ - 𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠

-> Dan Heng comforting his quiet s/o after they have a nightmare (req by @minimallyminnie)

-> I wanted to write this in a different way from all my other fics. I feel like most nightmare comfort fics have rose tinted lenses over them, so I wanted to take a different approach while also keeping a comfort factor.

Cw) nightmares (obv), implied/hinted ptsd, misunderstandings, nightmare remains vague so no spoilers here, cheating accusations, eventual comfort i swear (sorry minnie)

Dan Heng wouldn't say he sleeps good per say, but he wouldn't say he slept horribly either. Perhaps if he wasn't so alert in his sleep, he'd be able to wake up the next morning and tell March "I slept great."

But that wasn't to say he wanted to rid of that sense of alertness, not at all. In fact, in times like these, he was ever so grateful for training himself the way he has.

You stirred ever so slightly in your sleep. It was brief and quiet, but not to Dan Heng. He always focussed on your movements when you were near. From your body language, to the way you faintly tilted your head when something piqued your interest.

With all the attention Dan Heng given you, it was safe to say he had you memorized.

And the way you were currently stirring in the midst of your slumber was out of character.

It was brief at first, nothing that concerned the young man too much. But his concern grew just as gradual as your distressing movements.

What started as a light shake of the head soon turned into your body violently shaking as you clutched your pillow for dear life. Dan Heng watched over your sleeping frame cautiously, refraining from causing you any more panic incase you were to wake up.

It didn't take a genius to realize you were having a nightmare.

Soft cries emitted from your lips, almost inaudible. But to Dan Heng, they were as loud as the Astral Express making the jump.

He wanted to wake you up, he really did.

But he was aware of the risks of waking someone up from a nightmare, especially someone with your condition. It could be jarring, even making the episode worse in some cases.

He knew it was best to let you wake up on your own, but it didn't stop the way his heart clenched each time you hugged your pillow tighter than before.

“Dan Heng…”

His ears perked up at the sound of his name, were you… dreaming about him? No, it wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare, that was made clear since his senses heightened.

But why would you be calling his name out in the midst of a nightmare?

“Dan Heng!” You jolted up, eyes wide and full of terror. You were panting heavily, as if you had just ran a marathon.

Dan Heng stayed near, examining your features just as he did many times before. He wanted to hold you, comfort you, tell you everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn’t.

If you had been having a nightmare about him, wouldn’t that be the last thing you wanted? The way you shook and avoided his gaze made him believe that was the case.

“I’m… I’m so sorry.” Dan Heng muttered under his breath. He knew deep down he didn’t do anything wrong, but he still felt the need to apologize for whatever his actions caused in your sleeping mind.

You didn’t respond. You were no longer panting however, rather, shaking anxiously. A chill ran up your spine.

It was a warm night.

“You- what did you—“ Your eyebrows furrowed, staring into the dimly lit void in front of you. “You didn’t… right? You couldn’t have…” Ah

Was he sure this wasn’t his own nightmare now?

“I was going to tell you… one day… I can’t run from it, can I?” His voice held hostility. Not to you, but rather, himself. He knew he would have to tell you his origins one day. But he never expected your own consciousness to tell you first.

“You were going to tell me what? That you were cheating on me?” Your voice cracked, refusing to believe that it wasn’t just a nightmare.

“What…?”

“Yeah, you can’t run from that, can you.”

“(Name) wait, you’ve got the wrong idea. I thought you were referring to something else.” He let go if his self restraint and finally reached out for you, only for you to swat his hand away.

“The wrong idea? What else could I be referring to!” You shouted.

“My past!” He yelled.

Dan Heng never yelled.

You went quiet, staring at him in shock.

It wasn’t like you were upset he yelled. More like… shocked. The guilt of your accusations hit you like a brick. But both of your reactions were justifiable to some extent. After all, you just woke up from a nightmare where Dan Heng cheated on you, just to hear him say it was true. On the other hand, he believed you were referring to something else entirely.

It was a confusing situation.

“I apologize- I didn’t mean to raise my voice like that.” He softened his voice, giving you a loving gaze you had almost forgotten about.

“I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that.”

You two sat in silence for a moment, a comfortable silence.

#honkai star rail #hsr #star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng fluff #dan heng comfort #dan heng x you #dan heng scenarios #dor writes

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violetken · 8 months

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what if megumi's mom never died?

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR JUJUTSU KAISEN MANGA!!!!!!!

(I’ve been thinking about Toji x Megumi’s mama so much and I decided to make a long rant about an AU where she lived! I’m not Gege, so take this with a grain of salt.)

To start off, it is canon that megumama was the only woman that Toji ever ‘truly gave himself to’. She made him a better person, and her death highly influenced him to do the actions we see in canon. That being said, if she was alive, ‘hidden inventory’ would be pretty boring. Toji wouldn’t assassinate Riko, and would ideally be working a random job in an office to provide for his family. However, Haibara’s death would still occur, and unfortunately, Geto would turn to the dark side. Geto was born cursed to begin with, and there are so many other factors besides Riko’s assassination that drove him insane.

Gojo’s personality had a significant change after Toji attacked him in canon. Since Toji never attacks him in this AU, I like to think his personality would be slightly different than we see now. Probably more annoying/immature. He also might not always keep his limitless technique on 24/7.

Megumi’s cursed technique would still be here in this AU, and therefore he still is Toji’s winning card against the Zenin clan. Toji likely would have more children with megumama as well, so there is a possibility of having other children with powerful cursed techniques. However, Tsumiki and Megumi would have no knowledge of one another, since Toji wouldn’t have married her mother.

Speaking of Megumi, he’d be a happier teen, and have a good childhood since he has both parents, siblings & an overall stable family life. His personality would be very different! I like to think he’d be a little bit more like Yuuji or even Gojo. In canon, he thinks his parents left him, and he had no one to rely on, which is why he behaves the way we see. In this AU, it is the opposite.

I believe Toji would allow Satoru Gojo to mentor and train Megumi. Megumi and Gojo would likely get along very well. Toji would form some what of an alliance with Gojo. Additionally, Toji would definitely train Maki & help her reach her highest potential. Toji & megumama might even take care of both Mai & Maki, knowing how cruel the Zenin clan was to them, and they all bond over their hatred of their clan. If Toji chooses to take both the girls under his wing, the relationship between the sisters would have been much much much stronger, and Mai likely wouldn’t have died.

In this AU, Sukuna and Kenjaku are still lurking and scheming. Therefore, Shibuya & the culling games & everything after would still occur, but certain things would just be a tad bit different. For example, Granny Ogami wouldn’t bring Toji’s soul back from the dead, and he wouldn’t wreck havoc. There is a 50/50 chance of Gojo being sealed. It doesn’t matter much though, because he will eventually be unsealed anyway.

If Toji interferes in the Shibuya battles that take place, there is a slight chance that deaths could’ve been avoided, such as Nanami & Nobara. However, the deaths of some characters seem unavoidable, such as Principal Yaga, Mechamaru & Grandpa Zenin. There is always the possibility of Toji dying in Shibuya too, but let's say that he survives Shibuya. Characters would still be heavily injured from Shibuya: Inumaki losing his arm, Maki & Nanami getting burns, Nobara & Nanami both losing an eye.

Since Mai is alive in this AU, the Zenin clan massacre likely would not have occurred. Megumi & Naoya would still fight over the position of the new clan head. With Megumi having support from Choso, Toji, his siblings, Maki, Mai, Yuuji, and literally so many more people, Naoya wouldn’t even be a problem & Megumi would win in a landslide….Therefore, the Zenin clan would go through vast changes, now that Megumi is in control, and has the help of Toji/Maki/Mai.

Sukuna likely would not have been able to possess Megumi. Instead, it likely would’ve been Yuuji’s body or maybe one of Megumi’s siblings (if they have special cursed techniques) bodies that Gojo is fighting in the current arc. Without Megumi/Sukuna’s shikigami, Gojo would have a much easier time defeating Sukuna. It won’t be easy to save the vessel while defeating Sukuna (we don’t even know currently in the manga what is going to happen…), so the chances of Sukuna’s vessel dying are 50/50.

After defeating Sukuna, the group likely would go after Kenjaku, and most likely return victorious. Gojo would put Geto’s body to rest once and for all.

Overall, Jujutsu Kaisen would be a bit less dark and would have a somewhat happy ending with most of the characters being alive (although some of them are not in good shape, but who gives af at least they are alive).

That’s it for now, let me know what you guys think!

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absurdthirst · 1 year

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The Future of Mandalore {Mando x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Creeds, marriages, unprotected sex, mentions of breeding, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal sex, canon-style violence

Comments: You never thought you would see Din Djarin again, joining Axe Woves's crew of Mandalorians. Now reunited, you marry him the night before your quest to retake Mandalore.

A/N: Tonight is the season finale!!! Spoilers for season 3 episode 7 in this fic.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

|| MasterList || The Mandalorian MasterList ||

Gif by @pedropascalsx

Din Djarin. You wouldn’t believe that it is him. Never in a million years would you think you would see him standing beside Bo-Katan Kreyze in all his shiny glory. The last time you had seen him, you had been back on Nevarro. The covert gave themselves up so that he could escape with his foundling. The same foundling that sits in his cradle beside him as he stares blankly at the group of Mando’s you have fallen in with since removing your helmet. Axe Woves convinced you that you were no less Mandalorian because of removing your helmet and you are grateful to be counted among them. Though your heart quickens when you see the man who had been courting you before the fall of the covert, his gift of a vibro blade is still your most treasured possession and you often think of him at night. The man you had hoped to become his riduur. To bear him children. Standing in front of you now as if no time had passed at all.

Din glances around the new group of Mandalorians, each of them removing their helmet one by one and he shifts his weight, unsure of the new group, until he sees you. Maker, it’s been so long since he saw your helmet and he swallows harshly when he sees you remove it. He’s only ever known you wearing your helmet and to see your face, your eyes, almost has him on his knees. “Mesh’la.” He murmurs until his breath and you turn to meet his gaze, knowing you won’t be able to see his eyes beneath the beskar but you smile at him and it’s like everything is right in the galaxy.

“You two….know each other.” Bo-Katan deduces as she looks between you and Din. Stepping forward, you nod.

“I was once a part of the covert on Nevarro.” You explain. You had never exactly said where you had come from when you had joined them, and once Bo-Katan had left, you had said even less. “I- I know you no longer consider me Mandalorian, Din, but it is good to see you.” Your eyes slide back over to beskar covered form and you remember the small touches and conversation when he was at the covert. The walks along the lava river to spend just a few moments together. You had been sure he was going to ask you the next time he had come back, but then….things had changed.

Din doesn't like the distance between you. He wants to surge forward and pull you close, tell you he's thought about you during nights he is able to sleep in a bunk. He bites his lip, stepping closer. "It's good to see you, cyar'ika. It's been a long time." He says and Bo-Katan raises her eyebrows at the nickname.

The Armorer steps forward, distracting the clans from you and Din as she announces a feast for everyone. "I shall leave you two to catch up." Bo-Katan says coyly and Din glances around for Grogu before he turns back to you.

"You are - I haven't seen your face until now but I always imagined you'd be beautiful and I was right."

“I have often wondered what had become of you and the child.” You look to where the child in question is standing in a suit that looks like an IG-11 unit. “If you had managed to get him to safety, but it looks like he is still in your charge.” You had been very willing to risk your life and your creed for Din, but you never expected to see him again if you were honest with yourself.

“It’s a long story. I- I have traveled the galaxy with the little one and he is now my foundling.” Din tells you, knowing you’ll recognize the seriousness of the relationship. You had discussed foundlings when you were courting, expressing the desire to have ads if you were to form a riduurok. You had discussed your futures until it got torn apart by Moff Gideon. “I have missed you.” Din reveals softly, not wanting the others to overhear what he would consider an intimate moment.

“I’ve missed you, Din.” Your eyes are soft as you look at him, still not able to totally school your expressions like the Mandalorians who have taken off their helmets for their entire lives. You haven’t quite learned how to not show your every thought. “Have you- did you decide to move on?” You ask, suddenly fearful that he had courted and married another.

Din wants to scoff but he just shakes his head, “I- I could never move on from you, mesh’la. I have been traveling the galaxy with Grogu. I’ve met so many people and none of them made me remotely feel anything close to the way I feel when I’m with you.” He confesses, “if you were to accept me now, I would follow you until the ends of the galaxy.” The heartfelt speech is very unlike Din but after everything he has experienced, he doesn’t want to waste another moment without you.

“Din….” You bite your lip and step closer to him, your helmet set aside on a box. “I would accept you. I had hoped that the last time you had come back to the covert that you would ask for a riduurok.” You confess quietly. “I would always accept you as my riduur.”

Your words make his heart pound in his chest and he knows he’s tired of waiting. Reaching for your gloved hands, he takes them in his own and squeezes them. “Will you be my riduur?” He asks, wanting to do what he should’ve done so long ago.

“I- removed my helmet….” You remind him, as if he is not staring at your face right now. “Will you- are you going to accept that? Or will you believe that I must redeem myself and put the helmet back on forever.” You are curious if he believes that you can remove your helmet with a riduur or not. It is not really talked about amongst the covert. At least it hadn’t been when you were with them last. “Because I don’t want to put it back on permanently.”

Din frowns, unsure of why you think he would be angry about that. Spending time with Bo-Katan has allowed him to understand the different sectors within the Mandalorian culture and although redeemed himself, his creed is interpreted differently by him. If you feel your creed is intact, then who is he to judge? He is not the leader of Mandalore. He gave the saber to Bo since she is the true leader. “I would never force you to do something you do not want. I have decided to keep my helmet on. It is my creed. You have your beliefs and I have mine. It doesn’t stop me loving you.” He promises, squeezing your hands again.

“Do you- do you believe that your riduur can see your face?” You ask quietly. Before you had been willing to never see Din’s face, but now….now you want to see it. However, you would respect if he could not allow it. Your hands are steady in his and your heart hammers in your chest. Nearly giddy that your Din still wants you. It would have crushed you if he found you to be dar’manda.

Din looks down at your hands, “I- I don’t think I should show my face to my riduur. Is that- will that be a dealbreaker for you, cyar’ika?” He asks softly, praying that isn’t the case but he nearly died trying to redeem himself and he couldn’t stand it if it was all for nothing.

You’re disappointed and you are sure that your face displays that when you nod. “I- I had expected it when we were courting.” You reason. “I cannot expect your beliefs to change for me. It is enough that you will be my riduur.”

Din is relieved that you aren’t rejecting him for not converting to your beliefs. He squeezes your hands again, “thank you. Shall we find the armorer? Arrange for us to marry tonight?” He asks, wondering if you are ready to marry him now.

You know that tomorrow you will go to retake Mandalore. The rumors have already begun to swirl that you will be asked to step forward and volunteer. Which you will. You nod. “I don’t want to wait.” You confess quietly. “I wish to be your riduur tonight so we can go to Mandalore together.”

Din smiles under his helmet, taking your hand in his, and he guides you over to the tent where the Armorer is situated. “Din Djarin. You have finally come to your senses to marry this one?” The Armorer jokes and Din chuckles, pulling you close.

“I think enough time has been wasted without my riduur. Can you marry us tonight?” He asks and she nods, “of course. Go prepare. I shall take care of the rest. Tonight, you are a clan of three.”

Grinning, you turn towards Din. “I have quarters on the light cruiser. I- I will go shower and get ready. Will you have someone watch your foundling?” You ask, looking towards the small child. You want to spend the night with your husband. “I don’t have an implant, do you?”

“No. No. I don’t. Is that- is that okay or do you want to wait? I will wait for you. I’ve waited so long, I can wait longer if you wish to have an implant before we consummate our riduurok.” He assures you, knowing he can ask Bo to watch the child.

You bite your lip, trying to search his visor and wonder what he is thinking. You don’t want to wait another day to have him touch you, to touch him. “I don’t want to wait.” You confess, almost shy about it. “I- we will raise warriors, right?” You smile, shifting your gaze towards Grogu. “Maybe we can give your foundling a sibling.”

Your words make Din's cock twitch and he is both terrified and turned on at the thought of you carrying his ad. "We will raise warriors." He promises, "I don't want to wait. I want you. I need you, mesh'la." He murmurs, getting more aroused at the thought of claiming you in every way. "Go prepare for our riduurok." He orders softly, knowing he wants to use the 'fresher on Bo-Katan's ship to clean up.

Making your way onto the light cruiser, nervous butterflies swim in your stomach. You aren’t pure, you’ve had your share of lovers like Din had. But you haven’t been with anyone since he had started courting you and it’s thrilling to think about his touch on your skin. He might not remove his helmet, but you want the rest of him bare.

The crowd is gathered for this joyous celebration before the clans return to Mandalore. The Armorer stands before you and Din, gesturing for you to take hands. You are wearing your helmet and Din had cleaned his own beskar for this event. He's nervous, excited, knowing this has been a long time coming.

“Today, we are honored by a bearing witness to the first Riduurok of our newly united tribes.” The Armorer speaks, her voice projecting out to all who have gathered. “Din Djarin has claimed a riduur.” She starts your name as well, along with your claim on Din. “United they will be one. One heart, one spirit.”

Grogu coos in delight, smiling up at you and Din who squeezes your gloved hands three times, wanting to relay how he feels, and you smile beneath your helmet, squeezing back. The Armorer continues her speech until it's time for the vows. ""Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde." Din recites the sacred vow, his heart pounding in his chest.

The Mandalorians gathered around the two of you are completely silent, there isn’t the twang or rustle of armor or shifting of feet. Just a sea of helmets, the ones you had arrived with also donning their helmets out of respect for the ceremony. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.” You repeat the vows and exhale in nervous happiness when you are done.

"You are now one. May the Maker shine upon your union." The Armorer announces and the crowd of Mandos cheer, clapping while Grogu coos. Din smiles, pulling you close so he can press his helmeted forehead against yours. "Riduur." He murmurs in awe that you are now his and he is yours.

Mandalorians know how to party when they want to. The spirits of the evening are joyous, despite the fact that you are leaving tomorrow to retake Mandalore. You’ve already volunteered. The roasted meat is served and games and competitions are started, but all you want to do is celebrate the night with your new husband.

Din laughs at Paz's attempt to educate him on what to expect during a riduurok night and Din rolls his eyes at his humor. "I am certain I will be able to navigate the situation without your guidance." Din promises Paz who snorts, "well, I have an ad." His defense makes Din chuckle until you squeeze his hand and he knows you want to retreat from the celebrations. He is eager for you too.

I will watch the child." Bo-Katan promises and Din nods.

He swallows and stands up, "are you ready, riduur?"

You have shouldered your own share of helpful hints and ribald jokes from those that are around you, your helmet still on to hide your embarrassing eagerness. Everyone around you chuckles as you leap to your feet and rush over towards your riduur. “I am.” You will be spending the night together in your quarters and you have made sure that it was neat and ready for Din. Turning your head towards the group, you give them all a respectful nod. “Tomorrow we retake Mandalore.” You murmur quietly. “Tonight I celebrate my riduur.”

Din takes your hand, turning to look at Bo-Katan who nods at Din. “Be good.” Din tells Grogu who coos and he squeezes your hand, letting you guide him onto the light cruiser and he lets you escort him to your room.

“I respect your decision to not remove your helmet.” You promise as you walk down the hall towards your quarters. “I do hope you will remove your armor, though. I have dreamed of touching you, kissing every scar and pressing my bare body to yours.” You groan quietly at the thought and stop in front of a door. Pressing the button, the door slides open and reveals your private quarters, once an Imperial officer’s room. Now yours.

"I will remove my armor. I - I want to touch you too. I want to feel all of you. I wish...I wish I could kiss you. Taste you." He admits, wishing he could throw his creed aside in favor of lust but knows that once he was satisfied, he'd be ashamed of being so lax. "Strip for me." He orders, "strip for your riduur." He sits down in the chair in the corner, removing his weapons while his helmet is pointed towards you.

You remove your helmet first, revealing your face so he can see your lust blown eyes. Wanting him to know that you want him. More than anything. Removing your weapons and setting them beside his as he watches is thrilling. Your vibro blade, the one he gave you, comes out of its sheath and you smile as you hold it out to him. “I kept it close.”

He smiles under his helmet, rubbing his thighs still clad in beskar. You are so beautiful, he knows he has won the lottery for riduurs. You are strong, smart and gorgeous. He only hopes he can be good enough for you. “I’m glad you had it when I could not be by your side to protect you.” He says and you work on unclipping the beskar from your body.

Within moments you are standing in front of him in your flight suit, nervous and excited. Revealing yourself completely to your riduur. “I should have tried to come with you.” You admit, wishing you had. It was only when he was gone and you were helmetless did you realize that you should have chosen a different path. “I could have helped you on your journey.”

Din shakes his head, “I wouldn’t have wanted that. I- it was dangerous. I had to protect the kid. I would’ve made mistakes if you were there. I would’ve sacrificed too much to keep you safe. You are here now. I’m here now. That’s all that matters.” He tells you softly, “now…remove the suit.”

You smirk, aware that Din finds you attractive no matter what you look like under the suit. Mandalorians don’t have a traditional sense of beauty standards. Just like you’ve never seen a bare inch of his skin and you are already dripping went in anticipation. Pulling the zipper of your suit down, you reveal your panties and breast band, boots and socks already discarded.

He inhales sharply at the sight of your figure, concealed by the beskar, and when you kick your flight suit aside, he is lost for words after you remove your breast band. "Fuck." He murmurs, cock hard in his suit, and he knows that this is what he wants to see until he dies. "Mesh'la." He murmurs, standing up from the chair, and he removes his gloves, tossing them aside so he can caress your skin. His hands explore your waist and up your spine until one hand cups a breast and the other squeezes an ass cheek.

Moaning softly, you reach up to hold onto his shoulders. Din knows you won’t remove his helmet, so he doesn’t tense up. Your eyes flutter closed and you want to stay just like this forever. “Riduur.” You pant quietly.

His hands explore your body, in awe of your soft skin and he traces the scars on your body, thanking the Maker you are a strong warrior and here with him. He squeezes your breast, pinching your nipple, and he loves the way you gasp. “Remove my armor. I want you to strip me down before I pleasure you.” He demands, taking charge.

Din is not a man who insists on being in charge so for him to take control is thrilling. Starting with his pauldrons, you start to whimper as his fingers grow bolder, sinking between your thighs to swipe between your folds before moving on. Teasing you with his touch. Your fingers fumble as you remove his vambraces and lay them down, his chest and back plate next as he continues to distract you with his touch.

Din groans when your fingers dip beneath his flight suit. It’s been so long since he’s felt anyone touch him skin to skin. Maybe that one time he went to a brothel and she kissed his neck from the gap in his suit. It’s almost overwhelming but he doesn’t stop sliding his fingers through your folds until he rubs your clit, loving the way you moan for him. When you need to get to the rest of his armor, he reluctantly stands and steps back so you can strip him off before you are pushing his flight suit off of his body. He’s nervous. No one has seen him bare like this.

Like you, Din has scars on his body, but there are more of them. Telling of his years as a bounty hunter and putting himself in danger to earn coin for the covert. He’s beautiful. Stepping forward, you lean down and kiss a scar that is on his forearm, leaning in more to reach the one of his side. “Mesh’la.” You murmur under your breath. “My riduur is beautiful.”

Your words make Din fluster, his heart pounding in his chest. To hear you say that you think he’s beautiful, it’s almost too much to bear. He swallows harshly, wishing he could kiss you mouth to mouth but he settles for leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. “I love you, riduur.” He murmurs, voice modulated as he watches you caress his chest.

“I love you.” You promise back softly, sliding your hand down to wrap around the turgid length that is jutting up between you. His moan is guttural, hips jerking up towards your touch. “I want to- can I taste you?”

Din hasn’t really had anyone go down on him before. His experience is confined to hasty fucks in back alleys behind cantinas. He wants to experience everything with you. “If you want but…I cannot reciprocate. I want to. If - if you don’t want to, I understand.” He promises, groaning when you squeeze his length in your grip.

“Don’t worry, I’ve never done it.” You wink as you guide him back towards the surprisingly large bed. “I might not be good at it.”

He shakes his head as he shifts to lay down. “I don’t care. It’s you. You’re my riduur. I want you. Whatever you will give me.” He assures you, watching as you shift to kneel on the bed and he groans at the way your breasts swing with the motion and he reaches out to cup one.

Moaning softly at the way his bare hand feels caressing your beast, you wrap your hand around his cock again. “I’ve watched plenty of holovids about it.” You confess, pulling his foreskin down and exposing the leaking tip of his cock. “Always wondered what you would taste like.” Lowering your head, you press the flat of your tongue against his slit.

“Oh fuck!” Din yelps in shock, “fuck, mesh’la.” You take him into your mouth and he hisses, lost in the pleasure as you explore his cock with your tongue. “Good. You’re doing well.” He praises you, closing his eyes as you take him deeper.

Humming around him makes him moan again. Causing you to feel that you are doing something he likes. You keep your palette soft, lightly sucking and rolling your tongue around the leaking head. Wishing you could see his face as he receives his first blow job from you, but you know he is enjoying it.

You are taking him so well considering this is your first time. He loves it. He loves you. You’re so gorgeous and all his. He wants to see you round and full of his ad. Full of his cock. Full of him. He needs it. “Fuck, so good, riduur.”

You slowly squeeze the base of his cock and start to pump him. Taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you gag slightly when you press him too deep and pull back.

He lets you set the pace, lets you explore his cock and see what you like without telling you what he wants. A dirtier fantasy would be to trap you against the wall and see how deep you could take his cock, but he won’t do that. Not yet. Maybe you have similar darker fantasies. All of those discussions will come in time and with understanding if you aren’t into that. “Fuck. Mesh’la. I- I won’t last if you keep doing that.” He confesses when you take him deeper, able to control your gag reflex.

Pulling off of him with a reluctant pop, you look up at him, a line of drool and precum sliding down your jaw and your eyes watery. “One day I want to be on my knees while you are in full beskar.” You confess, clenching at the thought. The day he had been outfitted with his new armor, you had kept your hands between your thighs for hours thinking about him. “But for now, I want you to fuck your riduur. Fill me with your seed.”

Din growls, reaching for you to flip you so you are on your back. “Don’t worry riduur. I am going to look after you for the rest of our lives.” He vows, caressing your thigh before he pulls it over his hip. He wants to be inside of you. Craves it. He grips his cock and starts to push inside of you after rubbing the head of his cock through your folds.

It should look strange. Bare shoulders and a neck covered in a Beskar helmet above you as your eyes widen and you gasp his name. His cock is thick and it’s been a long time since you have taken a lover. Stretching you out deliciously and it’s even sweeter considering that he is your riduur. Yours until the Maker takes you. All you see is Din though.

He pushes deeper until he’s fully inside of you. Lost in the feeling of your tight walls, the heat of your cunt has him on the edge but he inhales deeply, trying to control himself. “Fuck.” He hisses when your walls flutter, adjusting to him. “Mesh’la. So - fuck - you’re so tight.” He groans, leaning in to rest his helmet against your forehead.

You moan softly, unable to even tell him that it’s not you that is tight, but he’s just that big. Your short nails scratch at his shoulders but you don’t do any damage; wrapping your legs around him tighter and moaning softly when you are fully relaxed. “Move, riduur. You won’t break me.”

Following your order, he starts to rock his hips, moving inside of you with a low groan of pleasure. You are wet and hot and he isn’t sure if he’s gonna last but he tries to think about how much he hates droids while he rocks inside of you, wanting you to enjoy every moment of this first time together.

You love the groans of your riduur. Holding onto him and moaning his name when he starts moving inside you. Feeling every ridge and throbbing vein of his cock as he rocks forward and you clench around him.

“Imagined this so many times. When I was alone on the Razorcrest. Imagining you. My hand wrapped around my cock. I- I would - I would imagine you beneath him, on top of me. Fuck, you are everything.” He vows, sliding his hand under you to arch your back, allowing him to sink even deeper and hit in a different angle.

“Din!” You close your eyes, crying out his name and your hand slides up to his neck. Not to remove his helmet, but you want to feel the way his heart hammers in his chest. “Love you. Oh fuck- you feel so good.”

“Love you, cyar’ika. You’re mine. My riduur.” He murmurs, loving the feel of your skin pressed against his. He won’t last long, not with how emotional he feels and the way you’re squeezing him, so he shifts his weight onto one forearm so he can slide his other hand between you to rub your clit.

Pretty much all Mandalorians know how to finger and rub a clit. It’s practically required since the removal of the helmet isn’t a thing. At least in your covert. Whimpering his name, your hips rock up to his touch and you feel the tension building in your core.

He can feel you tense, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips and he pulls back so he can see your face. Maker, you are fucking beautiful. “Mesh’la. I need you to cum for me. Cum for me. For your riduur.” He pleads, his cock twitching inside of you as he gets closer.

It only takes another two thrusts along with his clever fingers on your clit for you to fall over the edge. “Din, Din, DIN!” You cry out, back arching in pleasure as you soak his cock in a torrent of your cum.

“Maker. Maker.” Din groans when you clamp down on his cock and he won’t last much longer. His fingers work you through your orgasm until he’s grabbing your thigh, pushing it back against your stomach as he starts to push deep inside of you. Three more thrusts and he’s done, spilling inside of you with a low groan of your name.

You whine, closing your eyes and smiling at the feel of his cum filling you up. The heat rushing through and kissing your womb. “Riduur.” You reach up and caress his helmet softly. “I love you. I hope it takes.”

“Me too. I want to see you full of our ad.” Din pants, trying to catch his breath as his cock twitches inside of you, still spurting cum. “I love you.” He sighs, nudging your neck and wishing he could kiss you. It’s not possible. Having Grogu has shown him that he can have a child and to have another child with you would be his dream come true.

“I love you.” You murmurs quietly, feeling him settle into you as if he has no intention of moving. You don’t mind. You want him to stay just like this after so long being apart. “We will have a child born on Mandalore.” You predict quietly.

“I will pray to the Maker that you are right, riduur. I cannot wait to spend the rest of our lives together. I will follow you to the end of the galaxy. I serve you, mesh’la. I am yours.” He vows, staying inside of you. Tonight belongs to you. Tomorrow you will be taking Mandalore back.

****

“Move out!” Everyone is under heavy fire, your own position behind rocks perilous, although you will protect Grogu with your life. Din rushes towards the tunnel, the baby behind him in his IG-11 suit and you follow up the rear, keeping close to your family. It’s a trap, it feels like a trap. Those are Imperial and you have to wonder what the hell they are doing on Mandalore.

Din is worried, knowing that they are outnumbered and he is trying to protect his family. His fellow Mandalorians. “Quick, this way.” Din escorts the Mandalorians into the forge and through the halls, aiming his blaster at every Imperial he sees, knowing that winning this is getting more and more unlikely.

As soon as the doors go down between you and Din, you are pulling your blaster and starting to beat against the door. Watching helplessly as the other Mandalorians fall and the troopers start to capture Din with the wires. Taking three of them to subdue him and force him to his knees. You see the way he tilts his head down and it breaks your heart, his fear that they will remove his helmet. A figure in black armor rockets down to the platform and a knot of dread wells up inside you, watching as the figure removes his helmet and reveals that it is none other than Moff Gideon.

Din struggles as the Imperial goons tangle him in their wires, restricting his moment to the point he kneels down. His helmet tilted up and his eyes widen when he sees Moff Gideon. He wants to curse the Maker, thinking he had finally gotten rid of this asshole, and here he is. “Thank you for gathering the Mandalorians into one place.” Moff says. Din struggles against the holds as Moff gives a speech about Mandalore. “Forged from beskar alloy.” He declares and Din’s eyes widen. How did he get beskar like that? He steps closer to Din who pants, praying that you get off planet. You and the kid have to be safe. “And the most impressive improvement is that it has me in it. You see, every society has something to offer. The cloners. The Jedi. And even the Mandalorians. By aggregating the best of each, I will create an army that will bring order to the galaxy. Why don’t we take your fleet off the board while we still have the element of surprise? Activate the interceptors and bombers.” Moff orders and Bo steps closer to the door. “No!” She says but it’s too late, the TIE fighters are activating. “In but a few moments, the Purge of Mandalore will be complete.” Moff says and Din pants, starting to panic at how helpless he is. “Take him to the debriefing room.” Moff orders and Din tries to struggle, looking back at you through the glass. “Go!” He commands as he is dragged away.

Angry, you slam your fist against the blaster proof glass and call out for your riduur. “Din!” You hate that he is in Gideon’s clutches, knowing that it might be the last time you see him. Din had told you about avoiding him, besting him and taking the Dark Saber from him through combat on the Light Cruiser. The same Light Cruiser you had spent your wedding night on. “I should have killed you when I had the chance!” Bo-Katan hisses and you agree, knowing you will hunt him to the ends of the galaxy if it means getting Din back. “I will kill you now.” You vow. “Open the door and face me.”

Moff steps closer, tilting his head as he looks at you before he focuses on Bo-Katan. “Do you have the dark saber? The one that is rightfully mine?” He asks and she holds it up. “And you…you are Din Djarin’s…lover?” He guesses, pleased with this information. Djarin has weaknesses other than the child that can be exploited

“His riduur.” You spit. “One who will never stop coming for the man who has taken him from me.” You promise, glaring at him through the visor of your helmet.

Moff raises his eyebrows, “congratulations. I will make sure your husband is in good hands.” He says like it’s the last thing that is going to happen. You slam your fist against the glass and Moff snorts, stepping back to offer Bo-Katan a chance to hand over the darksaber. “Now, surrender the Darksaber and tell these people that this planet is mine.” Moff orders and Bo-Katan nods to Paz. “This is the way.” He nods, looking over at you. You withdraw your blaster, aiming at the glass while Bo-Katan slithers back to work on opening up the metal door.

“Open the blast doors.” Moff Gideon orders, looking at you with a vaguely amused expression on his face as you continuously fire your blaster towards his head. “Kill them.” He puts his helmet back on and lifts off, leaving the squadron to do his bidding as the doors open and you start killing his troopers. Part of you wants to use your Rising Phoenix, to follow Moff Gideon to where Din is, but you can’t leave your fellow Mandalorians. Not until they are safe.

“Go!” Bo-Katan orders her people, knowing they won’t be able to stand strong against the Imperials. She grabs onto you, “you need to go. Take the child.” She orders, knowing it’s likely you could also be pregnant right now. Everyone thinks that. Even Paz. “You need to go. Protect Djarin’s ads. This is the way.” He says, lifting his weapon to step forward and take the heat.

Closing your eyes behind your helmet, you curse the circumstances behind your separation from Din again. Your hand slides down to your stomach, that portion not protected by armor and you nod, whirling around and running towards Grogu and the door. If you cannot save Din now, it’s better to escape with his ad and potentially his next child.

Paz knows he has to protect the next generations of Mandalorians. His ad, Din Djarin’s unborn ad. He aims his weapon at the Imperial bastards and he’s prepared to die to save the ads and his people. This Is The Way.

Tears stream down your face under your helmet as you make your way back towards the surface, praying that you can find a way out. If Din doesn’t survive, you need to protect Grogu and keep his clan strong. But you will never stop fighting for him and all Mandalorians. Including the future one you carry in your belly.

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