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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 5 months

Text

never penelope, always calypso

pairing: leon x reader

cw: infidelity?, p in v, alcohol usage, oral sex, angst, smut, possible misuse of words, questionable metaphors, allusions to the odyssey (i'm cringe), pseudo-poetic nonsense

summary: leon is married to ashley and they have an open relationship. you become fwbs when he visits dc. accidental feelings happen

a/n: the title is a reference to the odyssey (no discourse/analyses allowed on this post!!)

wc: 5.5k

taglist: @rigorwhoring @porcelainseashore @mrswint3rs @dilfprayers @pawrincss

link to join taglist in bio! link to commissions & ko-fi in bio! link to ao3 in bio!

Winter 2012

You first meet Leon at a bar near your apartment. Outside, it's freezing, yet you order your drink on the rocks. Drunkenness makes your cheeks match your ears, rosy and slightly numb to the cold.

It’s been a rough day for you and the way Leon’s head hangs as he looks blankly into his glass - half-empty - lets you know that he’s in the same boat. He’s got blonde-ish hair, icy blue eyes, and a hint of a five o’clock shadow. His voice, low and tired, holds a sympathetic chagrin, subtle and genuine. He must feel your eyes on him because he picks himself up as best he can and smiles at you.

He’s not drunk. Neither are you, only tipsy.

“Hi,” you say because you’re not good with pickup lines.

“Hey. How’s it goin’?”

“It’s goin’,” you say because it’s the best way you can tell the truth without being too much of a downer.

“Not great, huh?”

“A complete shitshow if I’m being honest.”

“I can relate.” He thrusts his right hand out and you take it. His palm is calloused with a life much rougher than you’ll ever know. “I’m Leon.”

You tell him your name and he releases your hand from his grasp.

You recount your disastrous day and he laughs at all the right times and keeps his smile sympathetic for the rest of your story. He doesn’t say much about himself, and the next morning you worry you were venting, but you come to find over the years that he prefers to listen rather than to talk. He has unparalleled patience. He’s not like other guys. You’re just like other girls.

The one time he speaks over you is to insist to the bartender that he is paying for your drinks too when he asks to close his tab.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He grabs his wallet from his back pocket and you notice on his left hand, a wedding band. It was all just friendly conversation, you realize. Your smile drops and you don’t have time to pick it back up before he turns to you.

“What’s up?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You give him a fake smile.

“You sure?” He probes you with minimal force. His questions never make you feel like you’re being interrogated, strapped to a metal chair despite the fact that a gun sits on his hip; not like an interview either with bright lights an audience; more like a surgery, penetrating, tearing and mending your organs while you’re numbed by alcoholic anesthetic.

“Mhm,” You respond. You are already falling into a dreamless sleep, breathing, but comatose.

“Okay. Do you live close? We could split a cab.” He places his hand on the small of your back and whispers while you walk to the exit, “Unless you want to come back with me to my hotel.”

You look at him, almost angry for her – the woman you don’t know – and yet, still wanting. He removes his hand quickly. “Whoa. I’m sorry. I clearly misunderstood the situation. I thought we were having a flirtatious conversation and that it was heading that direction. I apologize for overstepping your boundaries.”

“No, I was flirting, but…” You point to his left hand. “You’re married.” There is a part of you that is already willing. You’re his puppet, his ragdoll, willing.

“Oh, yeah,” Leon says with a smile, thinking of her. He holds up his hand, proudly displaying his wedding band. “I am married, but we have an open relationship.” He sounds so honest you’re tempted to believe him. But, there is still a sliver of your consciousness left.

“Prove it. I don’t want to be involved with a cheater.”

“Prove it? Alright. Would you like me to text her and ask if I can invite you back to my hotel room?”

“Sure.”

You don’t think he’ll do it, but he does. Her name in his phone has a heart next to it. You notice it when he shows you her response: Have a nice time :).

He calls her ‘baby’.

He calls you a lot of things during the act, but mostly your name once it’s over.

He calls you ‘gorgeous’ as in, “You look fucking gorgeous like that” When he looks into your eyes from above you. You’re on your knees with his cock down your throat while his hand holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail. You look gorgeous if gorgeous means messy - the mascara that was already smudged when you entered the bar mixes with tears and drips down your face. You look like a canvas drenched with paint water. Filthy and accidental. And in an abstract way, something that could be conceived as beautiful in the eyes of a downright horny beholder.

Leon holds your wrists above your head when he fucks you. His grip is firm just like yours is around his cock, though it’s not your intention. In fact, you want more of him, all of him.

He calls you ‘darlin’ as in,“Darlin’, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. I’m not gonna last like this.” When you’re on all fours and he’s feeding himself to you from behind. One of his hands guides his cock to your entrance while the other holds your hip – that one continues to steady you while he’s fucking you at a merciless pace. With the other, he runs his fingers through his hair – you can see him in the mirror, sweat beading on his forehead.

He calls you ‘babe’ as in, “C’mere, babe.” When he beckons you towards him, lying in bed with his head propped up enough to see you. “Want you to sit on my face”. When you comply and sit on his face, your thighs drown out his words but the noises he makes reverberate through your entire body. Much to Leon’s dismay, it’s the last orgasm you can handle that night. (You have to walk home tomorrow, right?)

There is a distinct difference between babe and baby. The difference being that he calls you one and his wife the other.

That first night, you go for three rounds, only stopping because Leon ran out of condoms and neither of you feel like going to the pharmacy to buy more. At least, not until the next day.

The next morning when his alarm rings, you grab his phone from the bedside table and hand it to him. You catch a glimpse of his lockscreen. It’s him with a woman. “Is that her?”

“My wife? Yeah.” He hands you the phone and lets you see her. She’s beautiful. More so than you. You understand why she lets him do this. And why he shows her off with no hesitation and a prideful grin. You’d brag about her too.

You imagine their first date, their wedding, the sex they have in their home that they share, and every other thing while Leon makes a trip to the drugstore across the street.

“Sorry I took so long,” he says when he climbs back into bed, “there was a long line at the checkout.”

It’s okay, you think, you gave me time to decide that it’s better if I leave now.

And yet, the second he lies down next to you, your decision changes. The prospect of lazy morning sex with Leon is too beautiful to resist. Even in retrospect, if it were purely about the sex, you wouldn’t regret any of it, it was even better than you imagined it would be.

When he takes the blue box from the plastic shopping bag and jiggles it in front of you, playfully asking the question, you nod. None of this requires words.

You sit up in bed, closing the gap between you and your objective, but he stops you. “Don’t get up. I’ll come there.”

He’s quiet despite the room being empty of sleeping children and nosy parents. The hustle and bustle of the city on Saturday morning covers up any sound. His wife knows anyway and she’s 1000 miles away. It’s for the sake of your ears, still acclimating to the ceaseless knocking at your eardrums that comes with being alive. He moves slowly, spreads your legs for you, removes your panties - the boring beige pair you wore to work the day before. He runs his hand over your folds like he’s petting a stray animal, getting you to ease up and let him in. Two fingers mold you to his liking. He fits you for himself despite being taken. He feeds your desire and sets you free when he’s finished. (You’ve finished too, so it’s not cruel, is it?).

He steps into the shower alone.

If getting some more material for your spank bank was your goal, then you accomplished it. Not just the sex but the sight of him with a towel around his waist, his toned body on display. It’s the first time you’ve seen it in the daylight. He only removed his pants when he fucked you from behind. And the night before, you only got a glimpse of his beauty in the dim of the lamp-lit room.

The ounce of self-restraint that remains in your being, holds you back from ripping the towel away from him and kneeling before him, begging him to use your mouth.

There is a piece of you that regrets not taking the opportunity while you had it. You would have another memory of him to fill the Leon-shaped hole inside you. Better yet, he could’ve called you pathetic and told you to leave, and ruined it all before your infatuation could turn into something worse. But, he wouldn’t do that. And that’s why you like him.

Summer 2012

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. Well, honestly, it wasn’t supposed to be anything at all. You had each other’s phone numbers but no plans were made and the goodbye hug didn’t feel like a ‘see you later’, more like a ‘have a nice life’.

But a couple months after your first meeting, he texts you. “I’m in town. Are you busy tonight?”

You happen to be very free and though you denied it at the time, very infatuated with Leon. In your mind, it’s simply the fact that he’s the best sex you’ve ever had and none of it has to do with the fact that during the second night you spend together you’re mere centimeters away from love-making when he bites your lip, tugging lightly before he flips you over to fuck you harder. You know he knows, it’s too obvious for him not to know, that’s why he refuses to look into your eyes, opting to push your face - which he reminds you is gorgeous - into the mattress. Your mascara still runs while you wonder if he’s still thinking about you when your face no longer serves to remind him of the woman whose cunt he uses.

But that happens later. You meet at the same bar because Leon is oddly unfamiliar with the area despite having lived here years ago. Maybe he wanted to forget. That’s a question you never bother to ask.

“I was constantly working. I went out with Ashley on the weekends when she wasn’t busy, but she always picked the restaurant. So, you’ll have to be my tour guide,” he says.

You amble around downtown because you’re not decisive like Ashley. You didn’t prepare anything besides the matching set of lace under your clothes. In June, the sun stays up late, and though they say that certain crimes of the flesh are only committed at night, for the two of you daylight can be far more dangerous.

Simply fucking in his hotel room one night was well within the boundaries of whatever “this” is; however, kissing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial when the sun begins to set makes you feel like a teenager, being romanced for the first time and risking your overbearing parents finding out your dirty little secret. But, none of this is secret. Leon’s wife knows, passersby know, the statue of the 16th president of the goddamn USA who sits behind you knows.

But what truly feels wrong is how chaste it is, how his hands cup your cheeks like a chalice. In a crowded bar, you drink gin and tonics for the Eucharist. Tomorrow, you deal with the unholy hangover.

Still, you’re not sure if this is romance or friendship until you’re walking side by side and your pinkies inch their way closer until they brush against each other. You interlock them playfully for a second, but Leon pulls away rather than grabbing your hand fully. The one time he does take your hand, it’s to guide you through a crowd. He does not interlock fingers with you. He does not kiss your knuckles before he lets go.

Later you end up at your favorite bar because you are his amateur tour guide.

“If this is your favorite, then why weren’t you here the night we met?”

“Would you have preferred I were?”

“No. I’m just curious.”

“The other bar is closer to home. Quieter, too.”

You’re practically yelling at this point over the band that’s playing. It takes two drinks for you to stand up and dance. It’s not some sort of high school prom slow dance. It’s stupid and drunken, but Leon spins you around and his hands are on your body - the less intimate parts - for most of the duration. He doesn’t have to flirt with sensual touches because he doesn’t have to lure you into bed. You are already planning to accompany to his hotel room.

Usually, he is in town for a week at most, and busy for the majority of the time. You see him for a night or two each visit. However, one night after the usual routine of going to the same bar, drinking old fashioneds and Leon picking up the tab, he takes you to the apartment that he’s renting for the next 3 months.

“Three months?” you ask.

“Thought you’d be happy,” he says. “After you admitted that I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

“Cocky much?”

“Wanna find out?” He raises an eyebrow, daring you to take him up on his offer. He’s still unpacking in the bedroom, but you don’t find that out until later because you don’t make it that far into the apartment. You end up fucking on the couch. And then on the living room floor.

What you have is not romance but it’s dangerously close. You realize this when you accidentally take one of his t-shirts home and you wear it to bed again that night before washing it. Because it smells like him and you miss him. That’s not something you ever plan to admit to Leon, and because you don’t say it aloud, it’s not real. It’s only real when he says, “you should just keep a toothbrush here.”

So nonchalant that it catches you off guard. “What am I, your girlfriend?”

“Sorry for being logistical.” He huffs, though you can’t tell if he’s really mad or not.

On his next run to the pharmacy to buy condoms, he gets you the toothbrush.

It’s summertime and Leon has a balcony that overlooks the Washington Monument, so naturally, you eat your dinners outside. Leon cuts back on his drinking, so you often make lemonade instead – from scratch, like your mother used to.

Over dinner you ask him, “Why don’t you just move to D.C. if you spend so much time here?”

“I lived here for years – so did Ashley – and we both hated it. But her dad has a house in Vermont, and we spent our first anniversary there, and we realized we wanted to spend as much of our lives as we can there.” When he speaks, he doesn’t meet your eyes. He’s looking for the memory, reliving it with a smile on his face. You can feel the tranquility.

“Makes sense. If I had a father with a second home in Vermont, I would probably move there too.” Plus, I’m not tied to anything here. Except maybe you, Leon.

“It’s gorgeous in the summer. It sucks that I have to spend it here.”

“Wow,” you say, jokingly, “So, being around me really sucks that much?”

“No, you’re the only part of it that I like.”

You’re left speechless, flustered by his words, and you both know that he shouldn’t have said that despite the fact that it’s the truth.

“Anyway,” he transitions, poking at his salad, pretending to be incredibly interested in the lettuce in an effort to avoid your face. “This lemonade is great.”

“It’s my mother’s recipe. A little extra sugar.”

You take away the plates – his enthusiasm about his salad has faded. He stays on the balcony for a moment because he knows you want to do the dishes – “It’s kind of therapeutic,” you said to him. “Clean plates make you feel like your life is together”.

Regardless, when he comes in, he says, “You know you don’t have to do that.” because that’s in his nature. Other people make messes and he cleans them up.

“I know,” you say, and he doesn’t protest.

You have sex because it’s either that or watch TV. It’s rough and impersonal, and over relatively quickly.

And then, it’s five o’clock somewhere, and somewhere is right where you are, so you pull out a bottle and toast to something stupid like the sex you just had or the TV show you’ll watch until you fall asleep.

Leon doesn’t drink but when he does (which is only when he’s with you. Ashley doesn’t let him indulge like that because she’s more sensible than you are) your conversations venture into topics that you would typically shy away from. You find yourself talking to Leon about his sex life outside of you.

“Do you guys fuck, like, immediately, when you get in the door?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Depends on how long I’ve been gone and how gross I am.”

“Do you think about it a lot? When you’re not with her?”

“Of course I do.” The question sticks in your mind: when we’re having sex too? “But we have phone sex,” he says, oddly prideful.

“That’s good. I’ve never been very good at phone sex.”

“If you’re horny enough it doesn’t matter.”

And that’s probably true. You have sex again shortly thereafter and you wonder if he’s thinking about her. You notice that he does not say your name when he cums.

February 2013

The next year you see him on Valentine’s Day. “Shouldn’t you be spending this with your wife?” you ask.

“I would be if I were at home.”

“You could go home or at least, call her.”

“I could call her, and I did, earlier today. But, it’s just a day. It’s not like it’s our anniversary or one of our birthdays.”

It’s just a day, so I’m spending it with you. It’s just a day, you’re just a girl.

“When’s your anniversary?”

“March 16th,” he says without missing a beat. Because he remembers things. As do you. For better or for worse.

“Are you going to go home for that?”

“No, she’s coming to visit.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” You probably don’t sound very convincing but you’re already making new plans for that week mentally – not that you had any explicit plans with him.

“You could meet her,” he offers, and you think he must be joking but it’s not that funny so you don’t laugh. He doesn’t laugh either because it isn’t a joke.

“Wait what?” you say. “Don’t you see how that’d be a little weird?”

“She knows you exist.”

“Yeah, but-”

“-And,” he leans in to whisper into your ear because you’re in a relatively fancy restaurant where you probably shouldn’t be speaking too loudly about such topics, “I don’t know if you’re into women, but I think she’d be into you.”

It’s a blessing that your dress is black because you choke on red wine and it dribbles down your chest and onto your clothes before you can catch it.

“Sorry. I’m now realizing that sexuality is a sensitive topic and maybe I shouldn’t have broached the subject like that.”

“It’s not about my sexuality. It’s about the fact that you just asked me if I wanted to sleep with your wife.”

“Well, I was hoping to be there too in that hypothetical.”

“It’s your anniversary. I shouldn’t be there. You two should get some alone time.”

“You’re probably right about that.”

He asks you to help him pick out an anniversary gift for his wife. You study pictures of her to see what style of jewelry she wears. Apparently you’re good at buying gifts because you see a new picture of her as his lock screen in which she’s wearing the necklace you picked out.

It’s silver not gold, so it’s not the necklace you care about but the jewelry behind the glass that you gazed at while Leon talked to the cashier.

But before the necklace, before the picture, before Leon’s anniversary, you leave the restaurant together the same way you arrived except you’re covered in red wine. You complain about the way your heels leave blisters so he carries you to the front door - bridal style, ironically, but you’re the only one thinking about it. It’s just a name that comes from an old tradition. It’s like how Valentine’s Day is just a day. He gets down on one knee and because you’ve already imagined him in this position, seeing it play out in front of you startles you, but he’s just unbuckling your shoes. He sees the look on your face - you try to play it off - and he laughs because he knows what you’re thinking, but then again, he doesn’t know anything at all. To him, it’s a silly misunderstanding. To you, it’s a cruel joke you’ve played on yourself.

In his bedroom, where you spend most of your time together, he unzips your dress like he’s trying to save the wrapping paper on a gift.

“It has wine all over it, and I got it on sale,” you say. “You don’t have to be so… gentle about it.”

“Would you prefer I rip it off of you?”

But it’s already slipping past your knees, dropping to the floor, revealing your bra and panties, revealing the secret - that you made an effort, that he is opening a gift, and the gift is a woman in lingerie. His face says enough, the way he looks you up and down, with arousal coursing through his veins but a certain fondness and admiration in his eyes.

You distract him by unbuttoning his dress shirt - slowly because you’re pretty sure this is the one he likes. There’s no tie to undo, no tie to pull him into bed by. He doesn’t like things around his neck. Once, he tried to wear one and couldn’t tie it himself, and you had to help. He only kept it on for a second because he felt like it was suffocating him.

You’re stuck in a mutual trance until you hear the neighbors fucking - not making love, fucking. You throw your head back laughing and Leon drags his hands down his face in faux-exasperation, laughter peeking through his fingers.

“Way to kill the mood,” he sighs.

“Should I go get the broom,” you ask, intending to bang on the wall between apartments.

“I think it’d be a little hypocritical.” Considering how much sex we have. Considering the fact that we’re about to have sex.

“Okay, but we don’t sound like that.”

He shrugs with a stupid grin.

“Oh God, do we sound like that?!”

“I hope not.”

“Leon,” you draw out his name, not quite whining, not quite begging. Not yet.

“Here,” he says, and sticks a CD in his stereo, something he rarely uses. He prefers the quiet. There’s too much noise these days, he once told you.

"You sound like an old man."

"I feel like an old man."

When he stands in front of you in only a white undershirt and a pair of slacks, his belt lost somewhere along the way, while you’re freezing to death in black lace lingerie because he keeps his apartment at 70 degrees maximum, you let go of all inhibitions, and let your surprise be a pleasant one when you realize what album is playing. Grace. As if you have any left.

“I love Jeff Buckley,” you say.

“Everyone loves Jeff Buckley.”

“Not like me.”

The soft music doesn’t fully cover the sounds of your noisy neighbors but the sentiment does. All you can think about is Leon when he’s atop you. You make out like teenagers, savoring it in a way that makes it feel like there’s no expectation that the two of you will have sex.

But slowly, it becomes more than that. His hands cup your breasts, his tongue flicks your nipple, his hands spreading your thighs, his fingers brushing over the fabric. And then the CD stops. It’s been 52 minutes. It’s like a parent knocking at the door, interrupting the magical moment. When Leon stands up to choose another CD, he sheds his shirt too.

Fade Into You plays as he walks back to you and you want to ask ‘How did you know?’, but you opt for taking off his pants instead. You lie face to face atop the covers with the lights only dimmed while he thrusts slowly in and out of you. You worry you’ll start singing along because you know all the words to this album. But Leon’s mouth rarely leaves yours - except when his face is between your thighs.

It’s slow, intimate, undeniably romantic. Only urgent when you’re both nearing the edge and he picks up the pace. You cum together and wade through the aftershocks with heavy breaths. So Tonight That I Might See fades out and covered in sweat, you bask in the shared euphoria that tries to fill the melancholy air. You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

July 2013

Once, after a particularly terrible mission, you meet Leon at his hotel room and he fucks you so hard he has to keep his hand over your mouth for the duration to avoid a noise complaint. A second noise complaint.

Another time, he fucks you so hard the condom breaks. You’re on birth control but he has a wife, a wife that’s not you, so he offers to buy you the morning after pill, and since there’s no logical reason not to take it, you agree. Before you pop the pill in your mouth, you ask him, (mal)apropos of the situation, “Do you think you’ll have kids?”

You let him answer while you wash it down with a gulp of water.

“We’ve been trying actually.” You see the way he smiles and it makes you choke on the water. You wouldn’t have been surprised by a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, but you realize what his statement means: he would never buy her this pill. He wants to have a baby, but not your baby. He doesn’t love you like that. He doesn’t love you at all.

August 2013

You realize you love him right after he leaves. The best and worst part is that you do not see him until 2015. Almost 2 years later. You don’t hear anything from him or about him and sometimes you assume he was KIA, more optimistically, MIA. (Really, he’s just drunk and busy most of the time.)

If Leon died would his wife send you an invitation to the funeral? Who are you - the mistress, a friend of the family, a long-lost somebody?

Summer 2015

When he calls you in July, you half-assume that his voice won’t be the one on the other side. It’ll be someone else who recovers his phone from the ashes of whatever the fuck he’s fighting. You’ve started to forget what he sounds like and it terrifies you.

“I’m gonna take some time off,” he tells you.

“You deserve it since you’re always working so hard.” You understand what ‘time off’ means. It means time away from you too. It means he goes back to where he belongs – in bed, beside his wife.

“I never thought I’d get a vacation – I tried, but it got interrupted. Bio-terrorists don’t care about vacation time as it turns out.”

“How long is your time off going to be?”

“I’m not sure yet. We don’t technically have paternity leave, but I think the DSO feels-”

“Paternity leave?”

“Yeah. I forgot to mention, Ashley’s pregnant.”

The “trying” they were doing finally worked. She must be so happy – they both must be so happy. You force yourself to be because it’s cruel to hate a child. It’s not the baby’s fault that you’re in love with its father.

“That’s… awesome, Leon. I remember you saying you were trying, so, congratulations.”

“Thanks,” he says, and the smile on his face looks genuine but you see his hands come out of his pockets, only to retreat. He was going to hug you. But something holds him back. Though she’s physically carrying the baby, he takes on some of the weight it seems.

“You’re gonna be a great father,” you say. And that’s the one statement that you mean wholeheartedly.

The next words to leave your mouth surprise you both. “How far along is she?”

“Not sure about the exact number of weeks, but she’s pretty far into her second trimester.”

“Does she have a bump yet?” “Can I see a picture?” “What about the ultrasound?” You’re just tearing your own heart out so he can’t when he inevitably leaves. Or, maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re curious to a fault. Maybe you’re genuinely a little bit happy because you do love him. That’s what makes it worse.

You realize that this is the last time you’ll see him. He’s not dying, and will likely return to DC, but his wife will call him, ask him to switch to video so she can show him the baby that sits perfectly on her hip. In your mind, she’s walking around their kitchen, still in frame while the phone sits on the counter and he watches, imagining the joy he’ll feel when he takes on half the weight of parenthood while he lets her sleep in on the weekends.

You can’t be in the shower across the hall while he sings to a baby over the phone. You know he’ll sing.

He has a better voice than one might expect and you know this because he once got drunk enough for you to convince him to sing karaoke.

“C’mon,” you say, nudging him in the direction of the stage.

“I don’t sing,” he says, though he’s smiling.

“Everyone sings.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me.”

“I’ll make a deal. If you sing, then I’ll sing.” He’s already holding your hands, you don’t have to shake on it. But you do (and he spits on his palm first to seal the deal and you tell him it’s disgusting but mimic the gesture anyway).

You sing Like A Prayer, and though you can’t hear his voice over the surrounding noise, you can see him singing along by “Heaven Help Me”.

He sings Jessie’s Girl, and you would be enthralled even if he completely bombed, but you’re a face in the crowd of dozens, singing along with varying BAC’s, you’d guess. You’re not Jessie’s Girl, or Leon’s girl, you’re just a girl.

But the last night you spend together, you let yourself believe that you’re Leon’s girl when you fall into bed with him. When you interlock your fingers you pretend your ring is at the jewelers or on the bedside table. When he fucks you, he’s being quiet because you can’t wake up the neighbors or the baby in the nursery. In your mind, your husband is making love to you after he’s returned from the war.

He explains what happened at Alcatraz and you’re Penelope, he’s Odysseus, except there are no other suitors for him to kill. No bow to shoot, no olive tree bedpost.

But like them, you sleep together in a familiar room. Finally, fully, skin to skin, he gives himself to you. He gives himself to you temporarily, it’s sweaty and sickly sweet. You kiss until your lips turn red, catching your breaths forehead-to-forehead until you hold his cheeks in your hands like a pomegranate, ripe and rotting.

He grips your hips until they bruise, and barely pulls out in time to spill his seed on your inner thighs, only a bit ends up inside.

It’s not the first mistake you make together but it is the last.

His trip is barely long enough for him to stand outside the bathroom and pray for one line while you sit alone praying for two. Silently, you show him the result.

“What do you want to do now?” he asks.

“Watch TV, I guess,” you say.

You sit next to each other on the couch. He leaves in the morning as was always the plan. You kiss him goodbye and with the same lips, he kisses Ashley hello.

You were never Penelope. You’re Calypso, and he longs for home.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n

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lincolndjarin · 11 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty five : wedding bells

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

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

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 11.7k

summary : a plan to finally leave Naboo is set in motion.

warnings, etc. : language, smut, angst, canon typical violence, allusions to sexual assault, threatened sexual assault (a guy threatens reader, and is gross), vomit (reader pukes once, it isn't described in detail), oral f!receiving, p in v, creampie, din's breeding kink, teasing, orgasm delay, probably other things i missed sorry

a/n : genuinely sorry about how long this took, it's been a pretty rough month for me and it's been hard to focus, especially when i'm also trying to keep up with kinktober, i promise in november. my upload schedule will do back to normal. i've sort of been dreading writing this chapter for a long time just because i've known how i've wanted it to go for so long and i just wanted it to be right, double apologies bc idk when the next chapter will be out because it's gonna be a double release but i will keep everyone posted. also i super rushed the edit on this so like if there's a big glaring error feel free to message me about it.

comments and reblogs are appreciated !!

Four days of Leo.

You were upset that Din was leaving you but you got over it rather quickly with the promise of his hasty return.

The morning he’d left you’d gone back to bed, you couldn’t think of anything to do without him so you just slept, dismissing the girls when they came to dress you. Your makeshift bed is colder than ever as you toss and turn for a few minutes before finally rising. You managed to find a dress that wouldn’t require much assistance to put on, stepping into it before leaving only to find Leodall waiting outside your door.

“Can I help you?” You give him a perplexed look as he clears his throat.

“I’ve been tasked with protecting you while the Mandalorian is away.”

What the hell is Leo supposed to do if you’re in danger?

“Is this Kodo’s doing?” You fight back the frown that threatens to form on your face.

“No ma’am. The Mandalorian instructed me to keep an eye on you.”

Bastard.

Of course he didn’t tell you Leo was going to be watching you while he was gone, he knew you’d be livid, which you are. You know better than to fight this, Leo’s terrified of Din, he’ll do whatever he asks of him. With a sigh you begin to make your way to the library, hearing his flustered steps behind you.

You don’t want to be stuck with him in the library all day so you simply grab a handful of books before making a hasty return to your room. Much to your chagrin, he follows you in, keeping a watchful eye on you as you read.

He does all sorts of nonsense.

He sweeps, and dusts, and fusses. Nothing is ever clean enough for him. You tell him it’s fine dozens of times but he just won’t stop insisting. He takes the sheets off the bed to be washed despite you telling him you don’t even sleep there.

His orange complexion goes damn near white when he discovers that you’ve been sleeping on the closet floor. You explain to him with as much patience as you can muster that nothing he can do will stop you from sleeping in there and you find a compromise where he thoroughly washes every single blanket, sheet, and pillow while you try not to scowl at him.

And he won’t stop talking.

He doesn’t seem to take the hint. You can sigh and groan as much as you want to when you look up over your book at him but he just keeps going.

The only time he goes silent is when you have to attend dinner with your husband. Leo accompanies you as Din would, standing behind you as you take your seat at the dining hall table.

Kodo looks… tired?

You’ve seen plenty of emotions on that smug face of his, but exhaustion? Never.

“Let’s make this quick.” He doesn’t even look at you as he takes a swig of whatever’s in his mug. You don’t grace him with a verbal response, just a nod and a hum as you take a sip from your own glass, hoping the water will soothe your nerves.

They don’t even bring out any food as he writes something down, shuffling through the papers in front of him.

“I don’t have a lot of time today…” He finally looks up at you, there are bags under his eyes and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten to a man who seemingly cares about nothing. “Let’s get started, shall we?” He sits up a little straighter, giving you that smile you’ve grown to hate more than anything else in this castle. “My father is ill.”

“I’m so sorry, my prince.” Your sympathies are emotionless, you don’t remember what his father is like. If he’s anything like the rest of his relatives you’re certain you wouldn’t care for him.

“Don’t be, this is a good thing.” Of course his father’s sickness would be a positive to him. “They’ve already transferred many of his royal duties over to me.” Hence the exhaustion. “This is a very good thing, wife. You could be queen by the end of the month.” Your stomach lurches at the thought.

Being queen means making heirs.

“How wonderful.” You stare at him, really taking him in for the first time in a while. Maybe it’s just because you know exactly how ugly he can be but right now you have to wonder how anyone considers him attractive. You don’t even know what Din looks like but you know that purely based on his actions that he’s more attractive to you than this.

“I don’t have much else for you, you are excused.” You blink at him a few times as he says it before shooting a confused look at Leo who looks as puzzled as you.

“You don’t want to have dinner?” You try to not sound excited at the idea of leaving already as he nods.

“I already ate.” He’s already ignoring you all over again, his eyes back on his work as he waves you off.

So you go back to your room, smiling the entire time.

You read, you eat when Leo brings you food, and you sleep.

And that’s the routine.

For nearly a week that’s what you do.

You wake, you let Leo in when he knocks, you deal with it when he fusses, and you sleep.

But really what you spend most of your time doing is missing Din.

You miss the way he smells, and the way he balances you out. It feels like you’re missing an integral part of yourself, you’ve grown so accustomed to his constant presence and the sudden lack of it is jarring. He made the castle feel like home and without him it returned to its former glory, a prison.

☆

Just as promised he returns, you’d hoped it would have been sooner but you’re just happy he’s back. You’d assumed the moment you laid eyes on him that you’d jump his bones immediately, but all you could think about was just how happy you were to see him.

You just want to be with him.

So you do just that.

And you take care of him, because it makes you happy to care for him the way he does for you. You don’t ask him about the trip, you know he’ll tell you about it when he’s ready.

In the morning you hold him tight, and you tell him what you were told at dinner. That the king is sick, and you both know what that means.

Despite the looming darkness, the morning is relatively normal after that.

Until you get to the library.

He’d been staring at you for some time and you were just about to ask if he was okay when he spoke.

“Do you know what riduur means?”

Spouse.

You’d seen it in the book while he was away. You’d focused on learning words that would most likely be relevant to your life with him.

“No, I don’t think I learned that.” You’re mostly just curious if he’ll actually tell you.

“It means partner, or spouse.” He sounds nervous, it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Oh. Okay…”

He nods and you can’t help but be disappointed at his lack of followup. You try not to stare, keeping an eye on him as you return to your own book, in your peripherals you can see that he doesn’t even try to pretend to read, he’s just staring at you again. You get ready to shut your eyes when he starts playing with his helmet controls but he doesn’t remove it, instead he takes your face in his hands.

“Can I ask you something?” There’s no modulation as you hear his raw, unfiltered voice. His thumbs rub small circles into your jaw.

Is this happening? Now? Or is he joking around again?

“Of course.” You’ve been ready since the first time you thought this was happening.

“Do you remember when I described the fear of love to you?”

Definitely not a joke.

“Yes.” You couldn’t possibly forget it, you still feel it everyday.

“Do you ever feel that fear?”

Every single second of every single day.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want you to.” He releases your face, taking your hands in his instead. “I don’t want to either.”

If he’s about to break up with you again you’re gonna kill him. You might actually push him out the window, he’ll be fine, he has his pack.

“I don’t want our lives to be that. I want to leave, soon.” You sit up in his lap, the nook is a mess of tangled limbs and fabric from the skirt of your gown at this point. “B- but I want us to do something before we leave.” He’s usually so put together when he talks to you like this. Slow, well calculated words, but he’s stuttering a bit now, his voice nearly cracking as you give his hands a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats, nodding to himself before the helmet tilts up with a whisper of your name, it’s the first time you’ve heard your real last name and not Harand, in a long time. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You really do.

“I have lived my entire life in hiding, behind masks and walls.” He takes your hand, bringing it to the lip of his helmet as he takes your fingertips, bringing them under it to hold them to his lips. “I can’t, and I won’t do that forever. I have said it before and I will say it again, I have no secrets from you.” Are you holding your breath? The tightness in your chest makes you feel like you are. “And you deserve a much more profound proclamation of devotion but I’m worried that if I try to do that I’ll lose my nerve. So instead I’ll just say it, and I’ll spend the rest of my days after this showing you just how devoted I am.” He reaches under his cowl, producing a small chain from around his neck, he fiddles with the clasp for a moment before holding it out towards you. Two silver rings hang from the chain. “Sarad’ika, let me spend the rest of my days with you.” He sets the rings in your hand.

You’re briefly waiting for formal words but you realize those aren’t coming. This is more than a marriage. This is an oath to each other, a permanent bond of devotion.

“Of course.” You whisper, closing your hand around the bands before swiftly removing his glove, pulling him to your lips to place a kiss to his palm. “Of course, Din.”

You stare into that thin black visor, the both of you just taking a moment to take each other in. And for a brief moment you get a glimpse of the life you could have together.

A chance at something real.

Freedom.

A house.

A family.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” He murmurs, barely above a whisper.

“What’s that mean?”

“Mandalorian wedding vows. I can teach them to you if you’d like.”

“What does it mean?”

"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."

You want him to take the helmet off.

You’ve never felt such a strong urge to be face to face with him, to really truly see him in this moment. To know him and to be known.

“And I want you to look.” He voices your own thoughts as he brings your hands to his helmet and you lean forward on instinct, pressing your forehead to the cool steel. You stare at the beskar mask. You’ve spent so much time wondering what lies beneath it but now you know that you don’t care, you imagine him as you’ve felt him beneath your hands. You tumble forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.You lift his helmet just enough to kiss him, to feel that warm familiar heat against you.

“I want to do it soon, I don’t want to wait any longer.” He murmurs once his helmet is properly situated once more.

“Absolutely.”

“One week from today. Elaine and I will plan everything and we can leave that night.” A week?

“So soon?”

“It’s for the best.” You settle against his chest so you’re staring out the window at the palace grounds. Just holding each other for a few minutes until you finally speak.

“It’s silly, but I actually think I’m gonna miss this place.”

“Really?”

“Not this place specifically, I won’t miss this far too large castle, and I won’t miss the arranged marriage of it all, but I’ll miss all the other parts.” You twist around in his arms to face him. “I’ll miss Lysa and Elaine, and the cabin, and being here, in the nook.” His grip on you tightens in an attempt to bring you comfort. “I’m really going to miss the people.” You are suddenly aware of just how fond you’ve become of the people of Naboo. You truly love and care for your subjects and a part of you is going to miss them terribly.

“I’m sorry.” He truly sounds apologetic.

“Don’t be. None of it compares to you, Mr. Djarin.” You don’t want him to dwell on any sadness you may have because none of it compares to how badly you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Djarin.” He mimics your tone.

“You can’t call me that yet.”

“But it suits you.”

☆

You wear your ring like he does. On your necklace. He keeps his on the thin silver chain and you keep yours on the cord with the silver flower charm.

You have one full week to prepare.

Din assures you that he’ll take care of all the logistical parts of your escape, he says he’s got a plan and you leave it at that, trusting him to handle it. You make yourself a five day schedule.

Day one, which is today, your engagement day, you will spend packing and gathering whatever you wish to take with you, you both agree to each take one bag and nothing else to make things as easy as possible.

Day two, Elaine is going to fit you for a gown while Din finishes his preparations for your departure.

For your third day you’ve convinced Din to take you into the city to say goodbye. You want to see the markets and you want to see the people, one last time.

On day four, you will have to attend your final dinner with your current husband.

And on day five you will be married. Elaine supposedly knows a pastor who works in a chapel just at the edge of the castle grounds. She has told him that the Mandalorian wishes to wed a servant girl, when the sun sets you will meet him there, your face concealed and just like that, you’ll be wed.

When he explains it to you it all seems so simple but actually making it through the week is much harder.

You don’t pack any clothes, Din says you’ll just get new ones when the two of you find somewhere to settle. You plan on wearing a simple tunic and pants, you’ll change after the ceremony and you’ll have your honeymoon once you’re safe and off planet.

You’ve been wearing the necklace Din got you for a while now you don’t have to worry about that. Otherwise you don’t honestly have many belongings. You grab a few books from the library you’ve been meaning to read, tucking them into the canvas bag he brought for you. You pack a blanket and a few pieces of jewelry you think might be valuable before buttoning it shut, handing it off to Din to be tucked away in the cabin.

You can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something but you push the thought away.

That night, when you’re laying with Din in the closet you hold the rings up together, staring at the intricate detailing in a way you haven’t gotten a chance to do yet. You rest your chin on his chest in the dim lamp light as you watch the way the flickering bulb reflects off the silver.

The outsides are rather pretty, matching patterns of swirls and vines, miscellaneous flowers adorn the band. The insides are different though, both carved with the same word you vaguely remember from your book.

Riduurok

It represents a love bond.

The difference is specifically that yours has a very small carving of a mudhorn, a sigil you recognize from his armor, while his is engraved with a flower. A piece of each of you.

“They’re beskar.” He says softly. His helmet resting on your bare chest.

“Like your armor? Isn’t this only supposed to be used on Mandalorians?” You drop his ring and focus back on your own.

“They make exceptions.” He yawns, he still hasn’t fully recovered from the exhaustion of his trip and you wonder if he slept at all when he was gone.

“Is this why you left? To get these?”

“Not just anyone can forge beskar, I needed to seek out an old friend to do it.” He adjusts himself a bit, fiddling with his helmet.

“They did a beautiful job.” You close your eyes as you say it, hearing his helmet hit the floor and his face taking its place against you as he lays back down.

“She always does.” He reaches over, turning the lamp off.

“Why a mudhorn?” He laughs when you ask, rolling over so he’s on his side, still holding you.

And before you fall asleep, he tells you a story.

In the morning Din leaves you with a kiss on the forehead to go handle the final preparations of your departure while Elaine arrives with her seamstress kit and bundles of white fabric.

You want your own dress for this.

Not one of the ones tailored to you and paid for with Kodo’s money.

She takes your measurements in silence, her face contorted in concentration as she notes everything. From the looks of it, she already has a good portion of the dress finished.

It’s gorgeous.

Pale, sheer fabric lined with dainty little dots. The skirt is layered, flowing freely when she pins it against your figure, fitting it to you perfectly.

“Elaine… this is beautiful, when did you find the time to make this?”

“I started it a while ago, I hoped you’d like it.” She smiles and it feels almost normal. Like two friends just looking out for each other.

“I love it, thank you, I don’t know how I’m going to repay you for everything you’ve done.”

“You’ve done enough just by being kind to me, princess.” He manages to speak clearly even when she’s holding pins between her teeth.

“Please, you don’t have to call me that, call me by my name.”

And she does.

When she finishes the dress you have to fight back tears, not just because of how wonderful of a job she’s done, but because of the sentiment of it all.

“Will you come to the wedding? You and Lysa?” You take her hands in yours, as you stare at yourself in the mirror, white lace falling off your shoulders in beautiful layers.

“If you’d like.”

“Nothing would make me happier. You give her hands a squeeze and she helps you out of the gown, after about an hour Din returns from his day spent finding you passage off of Naboo, laying down beside you in the closet, you’re in only your undergarments since you didn’t bother changing after Elaine was done.

“I missed you.” He mumbles as he crawls across the sheets towards you.

“You always miss me.” He just laughs when you sit up on your elbows to smile at him.

“I got us a ship.” He murmurs, you barely get a chance to cover your eyes before his helmet is off, his mouth on yours as he climbs on top of you.

“Where’s it taking us?” You gasp out when he finally pulls back, tugging at the latches on his armor as he sits up on his knees.

“Wherever we want. It’s a cargo ship, making multiple stops throughout the outer rim, we’ll be able to get off whenever.” You listen, eyes still shut, counting as each piece of armor is set on the floor until the last one is off.

“What about our great escape? What’s the story?” His knee slides between your legs as he crawls back on top of you, holding himself above you so you have to strain your neck to kiss him.

“The princess ran off on her own volition. She was unhappy for a long time and finally couldn’t take it anymore.” He pulls back just enough that you can’t find him without your sight, whining as you slump back against the pillows. “Elaine will spread whatever rumors she needs to to make it true.”

“What about her loyal Mandalorian bodyguard?” You reach up, opting to just pull him down to you instead of trying to find him yourself.

“He was embarrassed, ran away with his tail between his legs because he accidentally lost the princess.” He lets you pull him against you, his face finding a place under your jaw, his stubble brushing against your neck as he does.

“Didn’t realize he was such a coward.” You let out a breathless laugh as his chin brushes against a particularly ticklish part of your throat.

“Apparently he was a real baby about that kind of thing.” You feel a soft bite emphasizing his words as his teeth graze your skin.

“What a shame.”

“Truly.” He ends the back and forth when his mouth dips between your breasts, licking a strip of the skin there before sliding lower. “Do you have any other plans tonight?”

You just cleared your whole schedule.

“Nope.”

“Perfect, I thought we could do some married couple practice?” He lifts your legs up, resting them on your shoulders as he presses several tender kisses to your thighs.

“Married couple practice?” You’d do just about anything he wanted you to right now as long as he doesn’t stop what he’s doing.

“Well we’re gonna be married in just a few days, we should probably practice.” There’s a brief shuffling as he tosses his gloves aside before hooking a finger on your panties, you’re waiting for him to tug them down but instead you just hear a few rips and feel his breath against your mound.

“I don’t exactly get what that entails…” Your words are shaky as he runs his thumb along the crease between your thigh and your cunt.

“Well I was thinking all day, you know, while I was busy missing you.” He finally puts his mouth on you and it’s barely enough. His fingers spread you open as he leans forward, placing a single chaste kiss onto your clit that makes you jump a bit.

“Of course.” Your voice pitches up a bit.

“And I was thinking about how I’d probably come back here and we’d talk a little like we normally do, and then we’d probably have sex like we normally do.” He still doesn’t put his mouth on you, you just feel his breath against you, making your pussy ache and your clit throb.

“So far so good.” Are you even speaking loud enough for him to hear you?

“But then I realized that we’re gonna be married soon, so I thought we should probably start acting like it.” He leans forward just enough for his nose to bump against your clit.

“Yeah?” Your hands tangle in his hair in an instant.

“Yeah. You know, typical married people things, I ask you how your day was, you tell me it was fine, and then we have boring married people sex.” He tilts his head to the side a bit, just enough to relieve any of the pressure against your core as you try desperately to pull him into you.

“What is boring married people sex?” You ask, strained and breathless.

“You lay on your back and I do my thing until I finish inside you, because married people have kids, that’s what they do.” Finally, finally, his tongue drags along your seam before dipping into your weeping hole, your back arching as you groan.

“Obviously.”

“You probably won't finish, I’m pretty sure that’s part of it.” He mumbles against you before pressing his tongue deeper into you.

“Well that doesn’t seem fair.” Your eyes are squeezed shut as he works you open, slowly, your cunt leaking as he laps at whatever he can.

“Marriage is all about compromise.” He pulls back, a little breathless himself now before wrapping his arms around your legs, nuzzling his face between your legs before wrapping his lips around your clit, leisurely sucking until you can’t hold back the obscene moan that forces its way out of you.

“How is that a compromise?” You finally manage to grumble through your haze, the coil in your stomach tightens just as he comes up for air, resting his head on your thigh.

“I don’t know, it just is- dank farrik- missed you- your taste.” His own voice is nearly as needy as your own as he leans back down into you, his tongue swirling around that little bundle of nerves until you feel like you're about to explode.

“Being married… sounds awful.” Your chest heaves and your thighs tighten around his head as he sinks two fingers into you, briefly pulling back with a small gasp.

“We’ll make it work.” He curls his fingers, chuckling when you tighten around him.

“Maybe that’s the compromise.” You muse as he flattens his tongue against your clit.

“Making it- making it work?” You’re so fucking close, if you could just get him to stop talking and focus you’d be able to finish.

“Yeah, maybe the compromise is making boring married sex work for both of us.” You stammer again, desperate for him to just send you over that edge.

“I suppose we could try that.” He flicks his tongue against you one last time before withdrawing his fingers, you whimper the moment he does. “Are you going to come?” He knows exactly what he’s doing, and that you are. You nod with a breathy whine and he pulls back entirely, sitting up.

“If you want me to marry you you better stop whatever it is you’re doing.” You spit the words out quickly, desperate to pull him back in.

“If you want to come you better not make jokes like that.” He teases but you know he’s incapable of denying you anything.

“Fine, fine, just- come here.” You hold your arms out towards him and he eagerly crawls back into them, slotting himself between your thighs as he spreads your legs wide to accommodate him. You arch your back and shift your hips to the best of your ability, trying to get some kind of relief against him but he pulls back just enough to prevent it.

“How was your day?” You can feel his grin as he leans down, kissing along your jaw slowly as you paw at his chest.

“It was great, wonderful.” You gasp out as you feel him drag the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in the abundant wetness there.

“Now ask me about my day.” He notches himself at your entrance, not pushing in just yet but enough to make you squirm in an attempt to take matters into your own hands unsuccessfully.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Your voice is already ragged and strained at this point but when he still doesn’t move you sigh. “How was your day?” The moment you finish your sentence he pushes into you in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt with a groan from both of you.

“It was fine.” He mumbles before almost immediately finding a rhythm, pumping himself inside you with deep deliberate thrusts. His forehead presses against yours as he lets out a breathy whine.

This certainly doesn’t feel boring.

He takes hold of your hips, raising them slightly so he can angle himself to slam against your g-spot, twisting your body until you let out a particularly strained moan and he knows he’s found it. Your brain is already mush just from the sheer speed at which he started fucking you, giving you no time to adjust, so all you manage to mumble is his name.

“You- you want me to fill you up? He rasps out.

You nod for a moment until you remember the darkness that you’re both in and you manage to find your voice.

“Yes, please.” Your hand slips between your legs as you begin to rub slow circles into your clit but he takes your wrist and slowly pulls it away.

“I- I wanna see if- if you can come just like this.” He stammers out as he continues jackhammering into you, purposefully pushing himself into your g-spot as your walls flutter around him.

“Din…” You whine but he just keeps at it.

“I bet you can, I bet you’ll come when I do, when I fill you up, when I’m spilling out of you.” Your head is spinning from the repeated stimulation as he continues to focus on that sweet spot until you’re both falling apart. He’s exactly right. He comes first, snapping his hips forward until he’s nestled against your cervix. And when he’s done he slowly fucks his cum deeper into you, reveling in the lewd wet sounds and it only takes a moment more before you finish as well, gasping and strangling his cock as you clamp down on him.

When your breathing settles he turns onto his side, holding you against his chest before mumbling a sleepy I love you, so much. The two of you have been laying in silence for quite some time when you finally speak up.

“You know, married people sex is subjective.”

“Hmm?” He hums softly.

“Any sex we have after we’re married is married people sex, because we’ll be married people.”

“Mhmm.” He sounds like he’s barely awake but you just keep going.

“I don’t know why you assume it has to be boring.”

“Mmhm.” He continues to hum against your chest, a low rumble.

“Do you spend all your time away from me coming up with over complicated ways to put a baby in me?” You finally blurt out with a laugh, rubbing his back as you do.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He finally sits up a bit and speaks, his voice is heavy with exhaustion.

“Maybe I spend all my time thinking about the same thing and you just make it really easy for me to get what I want.” You’re still laughing softly.

“Does that mean you want to have more boring married people sex?” The fatigue in his voice dissolves quickly.

“Only if you stop calling it that. We aren’t boring married people and we are never going to be. We’re just going to be married people.”

“Mmm, I can make that work. Do you want to have more married people sex?” He starts to sit up on top of you again but you put a hand on his chest, pushing him so he’s laying down on his back.

“Absolutely I do.” You straddle his hips before reaching out into the darkness to take his face in your hands.

☆

Today is the only day you’ve woken up sad since Din proposed.

Today you have to say goodbye to your favorite part of Naboo, the people. When you wake he’s already dressed, attaching the last of his armor before helping you up.

“I thought you might want to leave early, so we can spend as much time in the city as possible.” His voice is still thick with sleep as you get to your feet.

You tell Leo to bring you as many coin purses as he can before you leave and he returns with five rather hefty bags of credits that Din slips into his bag before you head out. You go through the usual process, bracelet and all the other hubbub before you begin your walk through the streets.

There’s a dull ache in your chest as you look around at the people. Your people.

The thought of never seeing them again, and never getting a chance to really help them. If you were queen you could do something about all of this, but you can’t stay long enough to do such a thing.

So you settle for this.

You hand out credits to anyone who will take them, saving a bag for Vivian's family. You embrace anyone who will let you, and you hold the hands of everyone you give credits to. And once four bags are empty you go to Vivian’s store and you play with Theo, and even though she protests for the better part of an hour you give her the fifth coin purse. And when the sun starts setting you hug her.

And you fight the urge to say goodbye because it doesn’t matter how much you trust her, no one can know that this is your last time visiting the city.

When you leave the store it’s clear how upset you’re becoming about all of this so Din takes you to the markets just as the sunsets and you get to see the changeover. You can’t technically go to the Lunar Markets without your cloak, it wouldn’t be a good look for a princess to be wandering through such a taboo place, but you stand just outside the first street and you watch all the lights flicker on.

Each string light going on at its one speed, dazzling flashes of light all dancing through the air until the entire street is illuminated.

It’s beautiful.

Yet you don’t feel better.

You just feel sad. Because you’ll never get to see it again.

So you walk, quietly with Din, back towards the castle.

“You’re upset.” His voice fills the silence almost immediately as you walk the empty street back.

“A bit.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t do anything. I’m royalty, I should have helped these people when I had the chance to.” You sigh, resting your shoulder against his.

“You did the best you could.” It sure doesn’t feel like it.

“And it still wasn’t enough.”

“You did more for them than any other member of the royal family has done in decades.” You have to fight the urge to take his hand in yours after that.

“You always know what to say.”

“Aren’t you that bitch from before?” A voice breaks through the small moment of peace and you and Din both turn quickly to see a vaguely familiar face. “Didn’t realize that you were royalty, doesn’t seem like much of a guard for a princess, one guy.” He nods at Din who immediately steps in front of you, silent.

You squint, trying to recall where you know him from when two other men step out from a nearby alley, flanking him. That’s when it clicks.

You recognize his welding goggles. And his greasy black hair.

He had accosted you many moons ago, in the market, Din had knocked him flat on his ass for it. Din takes a few steps in their direction, deliberate and deadly. It doesn’t matter how capable you know he is, you still don’t like the sight of him going up against a group of three.

“Look man, this doesn’t have to be a problem, we’ll even pay you for just a couple minutes with her.” The one you recognize quips and you feel sick at the insinuation.

“I’ve never been with a princess.” His friend on the left sneers and you instinctively take a step back. That’s all it takes to send Din over the edge though, you don’t even see the first hit, he moves so quickly. You just see the guy on the left hit the street, a gush of blood shooting out from his nose.

The other two hop into action immediately after, both standing with their arms held up defensively but it does them no good.

The one on the right is stupid enough to strike first, his fist hits beskar and he stumbles back with a yelp. Your eyes go wide when Din kicks his legs out from under him, he follows the first man as he hits the ground, his head knocking against the stones, in an instant he’s out cold.

You gasp at the suddenness of it all.

The one with the goggles loses all his bravado in an instant, he turns and you’re sure he’s about to run but he doesn’t get the chance, Dins hand wraps around his throat and he’s on the ground beside his friends, except he isn’t as lucky as his friends because the Mandalorian doesn’t relent. He boxes him in with his legs as he kneels, his fist slams against the other man's face repeatedly and your ears fill with a sickening crunching sound.

In all honesty you aren’t worried about anyone but Din right now, it isn’t just the man's face that’s making the breaking sounds, it’s his fist as well.

You rush over to them and put your hands on Din’s shoulders, he stops immediately before turning to look at you, his shoulders relax immediately and he reaches for you but he winces when he wraps his hand around your arm.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He whispers softly and you nod.

“It’s okay, but we should go.” You rub his back a bit as he stands.

“I just need a second.”

“Okay. You nod, watching as he leans down, whispering something in the barely conscious man's ear, you don’t catch a word of it but when he’s done he stands and you both begin walking back towards the castle.

☆

“I’m okay, I promise.” He groans as you usher him into the cabin. You’ve been fussing over him the entire walk back.

“Being married means not lying about this kind of thing.” You snap back at him as you open the door.

“I’m not lying, trust me, I’ve had much worse.” You know it’s true but that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to worry.

You frown, having him sit at the kitchen table as you carefully pull his gloves off, both knuckles are jagged and bloody.

“Kriff… do you have a first aid kit?”

“I promise, sarad, it’s fine.”

“Marriage means compromise.” You glare at him as he sighs and you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Fine. In the fresher, there’s a loose board in the cupboard, pull it back and bring me the case that’s in there.” You cock an eyebrow at him before hurrying off to follow his instructions and sure enough you find it, a small metal case. You return to the main room, setting the box down on the table, watching as he fumbles with the lock. He flips the lid open before sliding the box over to you. Your jaw goes slack as you stare at several vials of bacta.

“Why do you have so much of this stuff?” You cringe at the memory of having to apply the sour substance to your split lip.

“For emergencies, which by the way, this is not.” You grab one of the vials as he gestures at his hands, uncorking it and dipping your finger into the slimy liquid before taking his hand in yours, applying a thin layer to it, watching the blood slowly mix with the bacta in crimson swirls.

“You’re hurt, this is an emergency.” He just sighs, letting you do your work, not even wincing one as you do so. When you’re done you recork the vial before putting it back in the case and returning it to its hiding place.

“Thank you.” He whispers when you come back to him, kneeling in front of the chair and helping him out of his armor as he keeps his hands on the table.

“What was that?” You grin up at him as he sighs again.

“Thank you.” He says a bit louder.

“You’re welcome.” You take the last of his armor off before standing. “Now come on, let’s lay down.” You wrap an arm around his waist as you walk to the mattress, helping him down as you keep his hands away from the sheets before laying down beside him, resting your head on his chest. You lean over and flip the lamp off before settling in beside him.

“Did you have a good day?” He whispers against you as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“I had a sad day, but it was still good.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He mumbles in the darkness, his tone quickly turning to one of shame. .

“What? The fight? You were just doing what you always do, you were protecting me.” You let your fingertips roam across his chest in small circles in an attempt to soothe him.

“I should’ve- I shouldn’t have snapped like that. You shouldn’t have seen me like that.”

“Hey. I want to see you like that. I want to see all the parts of you, not just the pretty ones.” He doesn’t respond, and for a moment you have to wonder if you’ve upset him, but then you feel his chest rise and fall sharply a few times. Your hands fumble around until you find his face, the apples of his cheeks are a bit damp as you run your thumbs across them.

You aren’t really sure what to say. So you just go with what you know will make him understand just how okay everything is right now. It hasn’t been an easy week so far for either of you.

“I love you.” You whisper before leaning down to kiss him, your mouth thankfully finding his. “And I can’t wait to marry you.” You lay back down and feel his arms tighten around you, after a few minutes his breathing steadies out and you know he’s okay.

“I love you too.” Is the last thing you hear before you both fall asleep.

☆

One last dinner with Kodo and then you never have to see him again.

That’s what you keep reminding Din as he tries to convince you it isn’t necessary, to which you remind him exactly what happened last time you didn’t attend dinner. Not that you aren’t just as worried as he is, of course you are, you’re just internalizing it better. Most people probably spend the day before their wedding stressing, it’s only natural.

So that’s exactly what you do today.

You stress.

You pace, and you stress until the sun is setting and Din is trying to persuade you one last time into not going which you ignore before the two of you walk the familiar trail to dinner.

You never know what to expect when you walk into the dining hall, but today you couldn’t be more pleased to find Kodo positively swamped. With his fathers condition worsening a fair amount of his royal duties now fall under his son's jurisdiction. He doesn’t look at you or Din when you arrive and you’re thrilled when you see they didn’t set the table for dinner. The entire room is silent save for Kodo scribbling something on a piece of paper, when you go to sit he raises a hand and you stop dead in your tracks.

“No need to sit, this will be quick.” He stands and you feel a sudden urge to stand behind Din, to put something between you and Kodo but you resist. “My fathers condition is worsening, that is the only news I have now I must be off.” He snaps and a servant helps him put on his coat as you watch in stunned silence, he shoots you one last glance before walking out the door. “That will be all.” And just like that he’s gone. When the door shuts behind him you can’t help but burst into a fit of laughter purely spurred on by your disbelief as Din walks you out of the room.

It was just that easy.

You’d spend hours stressing today and it was that kriffing easy.

You’re grinning ear to ear when you turn to Din once you’re safe and out of the dining hall.

“We never have to do that again.” Your voice and excited whisper.

“Never.” He repeats, you can practically hear his own smile.

“Can we go home now?”

“Home?” He looks behind him before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Sorry, the cabin.”

“I still haven’t fixed the bed frame you know.” He’s still walking you in that direction as he says it so you just laugh.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“Then let’s go home.”

And that’s exactly what you do. And when he opens the door to let you in you realize with a profound sadness that this is your last night in the cabin. A place that is the closest thing you have to a home here on Naboo, besides Din. But he’s a person, not a place. This is your home. His home. You can’t help but wonder if the sorrow is getting to him too, leaving is hard, no matter how much you hate certain aspects of this planet there will always be parts that you love.

But you don’t want to be sad the night before your wedding.

So you do your best to clear your head.

“Aren’t we supposed to spend the night before our wedding apart?” You tease as you kick your shoes off, eager to just go to sleep, turns out spending all day being worried is exhausting.

“Why would I want to do that?” He’s taking his own armor off, turning to glare at you.

“I don’t know, tradition?” He helps you out of your dress and you quickly climb into bed.

“That’s not my tradition.” He lays beside you and you on the mattress, groaning as he kneels to crawl in beside you.

“Lights off?” You whisper as your fingers trace the edge of his helmet.

“On?” His voice is soft and hopeful and you smile before promptly closing your eyes, the action is swiftly followed by the sound of his airlock. He kisses each of your eyelids before your lips, pulling you into him completely.

And he loves you like it’s the last time he ever will.

He makes every time feel like the first time with how gentle he is with you, even when he’s being rough. There’s always the tiniest spark of tenderness to him.

But tonight is different.

Tonight he loves you like he’s loved you his entire life.

It isn’t another first time, this time feels like the thousandth, like he knows your own body better than you do. Like he still loves it even after all this time. His hands can’t hold enough of you, his mouth can’t savor enough of you, and his cock can’t fill enough of you. He chases more and more, wanting only to make you happy, to unravel you and wind you up just so he can do it all over again.

However you want it.

That’s what he says when you climb on top of him, sinking down on his length with a groan. So you do it exactly how you want it, which is every way. He takes whatever you give him and you give him whatever he wants. And when he gasps in your ear the single word, posed as a question, inside? You nod, pulling his face closer to kiss his cheek.

“You don’t have to ask, you can just do it.” You murmur, and he does.

A part of you knows just how reckless that is but it matters less now that you’re leaving. Any children who would be born from this union no longer have to live in fear of your current technical husband, because they won’t be anywhere near him by the time they’re born.

So you let yourself stop being afraid of that possibility.

And you let Din love you.

☆

Today’s the day.

Your day.

It feels perfect already, the sun shines in through the small windows, you’re still tangled in each other when your eyes flutter open. Based on the way his breathing sounds you know his helmet is still off so you shut your eyes, letting your head rest on his chest as you relax against him for a few more minutes.

It’s going to be a hard habit to break after today.

Not looking.

Shit.

By the end of today you’ll have seen him. You’re meeting him at the chapel before the sunsets, and you’ll be off planet before morning. And in between that you’ll look. You’ll know every part of him.

You feel him stir, his breathing picking up just a little as he lets his hand wander up and down your spine.

“Good morning, sarad.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Morning.” You kiss his collar bone, squeezing whatever parts of him you can get your hands on. “What time do we have to start getting ready?”

“Lysa will help you get ready and Elaine and I will set up the church. We have to explain our circumstances to the pastor.”

“Like tell him that your bride is married?” You groan, just wanting to stay in bed with him.

“Like tell him I’m marrying some random servant girl, but more importantly tell him no one will see your face during the ceremony because of the creed.”

“Is that a real thing?” You sit up a bit, remembering to keep your eyes shut just in time.

“Not at all, but he doesn’t know that.”

You pull each other close, your movements synced as you do.

“Are you ready?” His tone is light but you know that if you said no right now he wouldn’t be bothered, he’d wait. It’s a good thing you’re more than ready.

“I have been for quite some time.”

The two of you stay like that for quite some time, for as long as you can actually, until Elaine is banging on the cabin door. When that happens you both sit up quickly, Din helps you dress and in just a few moments you’re both ready.

The next time you see him will be at your wedding.

You both stand by the door, unopened, when he takes your hand.

“I love you.” He brings your hand to his chest as he says it.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” You do your best with the pronunciation, trying to mirror how he says it.

“I will know you forever.” He whispers out and you tilt your head to the side. “That’s what that means. It’s our version of I love you, but it means I will know you forever.”

You squeeze his hand on last time before dropping it and lifting his helmet just enough to kiss him once.

“I will. I have big plans to know you forever.” You smile at him one last time before opening the door, Elaine and Lysa waiting outside.

☆

After Lysa walked you back to the castle things were a bit of a whirlwind.

It was a long arduous process, she insisted on making you perfect one last time. Her sentiment made your heart clench so you allowed her this, considering it a parting gift, one last day staring into the vanity.

She spends the day getting you ready in every way possible and you spend the day missing Din.

Until she gets to your hair and you finally speak up.

“Can we leave it down?” You clear your throat and turn to her as she nods.

“Of course.”

Despite how much time Lysa has spent dolling you up you’re happy to look in the mirror and see you. Clear as day. Not some unrecognizable woman being dressed to the sake of her husband, you just look like you.

When the sun is finally beginning to set outside your window she helps you into your dress.

Elaine really outdid herself.

It’s simpler than some of your other gowns but it’s exactly what you wanted. The dress isn’t wearing you, you’re wearing the dress. You’re standing in the full length mirror when Lysa produces your veil, helping you clip it into your hair so your face will be completely concealed.

“It’s time to go.” She whispers as she adjusts your dress once, smiling gently at you.

“Could I have a minute alone?” You whisper back before she nods and rushes out, shutting the door silently behind her.

You lift the veil and look around the dimly lit room for what will be the last time. Your hand subconsciously wanders up your necklace, you twist the ring hanging there between your fingers as you open the closet door, flipping on the lamp to stare at the bed you’ve made.

You sort of wish you could bring it with you. Your little blanket bed. But you know better than that. As much as you’re going to miss it, after today you’ll have a real bed. A shared bed, with your riduur.

So you say a silent goodbye to this bed. Your first shared bed. And you leave to find Lysa.

☆

You know the plan by heart.

Lysa will walk you in. It’ll be a quick ceremony and then you will get your things from the cabin and leave.

Simple.

Easy.

The church is nestled in the woods, only a few servants ever attend but it’s a quaint little place, covered in vines as you stand outside the large wooden entryway. This is it. You will walk out of this church married to a man you actually love. Just as the sun hits the horizon you know that’s your cue to enter. You take Lysa’s arm, holding her close as she pushes the door open. You’re holding your breath as you look around the church, waiting to lay your eyes on him.

Empty.

You tense up, your grip on Lysa tightens immediately as you both step inside.

Completely barren. Not even a pastor.

“They must be running a little bit late.” You can tell by the tone of her voice that she is just as uneasy as you are right now.

Din wouldn’t be late.

Not to this.

“Let’s wait a few minutes, they’ll be here soon.” She insists before walking you into the church, you both sit in one of the pews.

You wait.

And you hold her hand and you wait.

You wait until the sun is completely set and you’re both bathed in darkness before you can’t take it anymore and you stand abruptly, pulling the veil from your hair and handing it to her.

“Go back inside, hide this, I’ll take care of this.” You walk with her back to the entryway with small frantic steps.

“Ma’am, are you sure-”

“I’ll find them.” You give her a reassuring smile, one that brings you no comfort before watching her rush back in the direction of the castle. The moment you know she’s far enough away to not hear it you finally let out the sob that’s been building in your throat. You don’t have time to break down right now though, you need to find Din.

He didn’t abandon you.

Your mind wants to go there, a part of you whispers that he’s left you all over again but you know with absolute certainty that that isn’t possible.

Something happened.

So you search.

Your heart threatens to burst from your chest as you begin your hunt.

You go to the cabin only to find it just as you left it this morning. You wade through the waters, silently letting your eyes scour the darkness before you run through the gardens. Yet you come up empty once again. Not so much as a trace of either one of them.

So you go to the only other place you can think to look.

The place you had told yourself just a few hours ago that you’d never go back to, and you return to the castle. It’s desolate when you search the halls. Not so much as a guard in the dark stone corridors. It makes your stomach twist in knots. The rooms are empty, and the lights are off.

What the hell happened?

Your lungs burn from the constant running but you can’t stop now, you won’t stop until you find him, and if you search every corner of the castle and he isn’t there then you’ll start searching the rest of the planet.

Whatever it takes.

It probably won’t come to that though, you quickly realize when you finally find a room with the door cracked and the lights on. Any sense of relief it brings you is gone in an instant though as you realize what room it is.

The dining hall.

Your feet carry you towards it before your brain can comprehend what’s happening and you slowly push the doors open, stepping inside. You have felt a range of temperatures since your arrival on Naboo but right now all you feel is a blistering cold that smothers your flesh and bones.

The table is set, and as is the case on all nights where you’re expected at dinner, Kodo sits in his usual place.

Except this isn’t a night where you’re expected.

And he isn’t the only one sat at the table.

Elaine sits on one side of him, looking like she’s about to be sick, Leo on the opposite side, downright refusing to look at you. You feel like you’re going to pass out the moment you see them and you can’t help but note the fact that Kodo’s guards aren’t here.

“Don’t you look lovely.” The nasally bellow of his voice fills the entire hall as you take a step forward. It takes all of your focus to keep yourself from trembling as you stare at him.

“Did I forget we were supposed to have dinner?” You keep your voice surprisingly steady considering the circumstances.

“You didn’t get my invitation?” His voice drips with malice as the doors behind you promptly shut, his tone is enough of an indicator that there was no invitation.

This isn’t some coincidence, you didn’t just happen to stumble upon Elaine and Leo dining with your husband, no.

It’s an ambush.

“I must have missed it.” You murmur.

“Take a seat.” He says it like it’s an offer but you know better than to refuse, not now. You sit at your usual spot, every muscle in your body is tense as you look across the table at him. “Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.” His face contorts into a sneer as he stares right back at you. “But I’m afraid our night has been ruined by some rather upsetting news.”

Maybe you should just run.

His guards aren’t here, you could probably outrun Kodo, especially with how much adrenaline is coursing through your veins right now.

Not without Din.

“Are you okay?” He doesn’t sound concerned, the question burns a hole into you, what could he possibly mean by that?

“I’m fine.” You swallow the lump in your throat, turning to look at Leo, and then Elaine, Kodo following your eyeline the entire time.

“Don’t worry, she can’t hurt you, not anymore.”

“I’m sorry?” The more confused you get the more the feeling of suffocation in your chest grows.

“Your servant, she can’t hurt you anymore, I was actually about to dismiss her right before you arrived.” Your brows furrow as you try desperately to make sense of any of this and he grins. Teeth fully on display as he smiles at you from across the table. “You don’t know?”

“I’m sorry, my prince, but I’m not sure about anything that’s happening right now.” Might as well say it, maybe it’ll get you some answers.

“No need to apologize, not after what you’ve been through.”

You know better than to ask a follow up question to that.

Something is terribly wrong and it would be best to learn as much as you can before giving away any of your own knowledge.

“Leodall told us everything.” If it’s possible for Leo to somehow look at you less, he manages to do so when Kodo says that. “You don’t have to worry about any of it now, I’m going to take care of everything.” Nothing about the faux soothing tone he takes on relaxes you, you’re getting more and more upset with each passing second.

“What did Leo tell you?” The bewilderment in your voice isn’t an act as you fight to keep your voice from cracking.

“About the Mandalorian, dear wife.”

It’s a good thing you weren’t holding a drink, if you did it would be on the floor. You don’t have anything to say, any words you might have to say die in your throat.

“We retrieved him from his quarters and he confessed to everything.” Kodo’s eyes raise briefly as he gauges your reaction.

Din confessed.

“Everything?” When you find your voice that’s the only word you can manage to produce as your stomach churns at the thought. What did they do to him to make him admit what the two of you have done?

“It’s better this way, there’s no need for a trial.” He takes a sip of whatever dark ale fills his glass. Maybe your last act of defiance should be to aim the vomit rising in your throat at him, or at the very least at Leo. “Thank the gods Leo found that book, who knows how long this would have continued if it weren’t for him.”

The Smitten Paladin.

You knew you were forgetting something.

Maybe there isn’t enough time to run but you could definitely jump across the table and strangle Leo, it probably wouldn’t even be that difficult.

Or maybe you should just beg.

Kodo is a man of ego, if you appeal to him maybe he’ll spare Din. That’s unlikely though, the best you can hope for now is a swift death for both of you. Should you just beg for that instead?

“I confessed as well, to all of it.” Elaine turns to stare at you, she looks pained and Kodo’s smile drops the moment she speaks up.

“There’s no need for that.” He hisses, his chair squeaks as he stands but she isn’t deterred.

“The Mandalorian and I both confessed to our crimes, I’m sorry.” Elaine is strong. The entire time you’ve known her that’s been the word you’d use to describe her, but right now she just looks small.

“That’s enough.” His voice rings through the hall as he snarls at her. “You’ve done enough.” But she doesn’t stop, tears form in the corners of her eyes as she reaches a hand towards you.

“Mando told them what he did.” Her words become more and more rushed as Kodo begins to walk towards where she’s seated. “We told them all of it, what he made you do, how I helped him keep you quiet, how he took advantage of you.” Her voice is strained and broken as the loud crack echoes throughout the room when Kodo’s hand comes in contact with her face.

“Not another word.” He growls, his eyes icy and cruel, his hand still raised in silent warning.

How he took advantage of you.

Oh Din.

He didn’t.

You just stare at her. The weight of the world is starting to crash down on you bit by bit as your heart begins to beat frantically.

Kodo sighs loudly before returning to his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’ve ruined the big reveal.” He mumbles before looking back up at you. “Might as well get to your present since she’s ruined the surprise.”

This can’t get worse.

That’s what you’ve been consistently repeating to yourself as this dinner has carried on yet somehow it does.

Everything gets worse when Kodo calls out for his guards.

Six battle droids enter from the door behind Kodo, but you barely have eyes for them, you don’t have the brain capacity to notice them because you only see him right now.

Your Din.

Din who would do anything for you. With his hands cuffed in front of him, his ankles attached with a short chain. Din who is pushed to his knees, a man who should never be in such a position before anyone who isn’t you. Din who only looks at you, even now.

Din who made up a lie, to protect you one last time.

Your Din.

There isn’t a facade you can put on now, nothing can hide the anguish on your face as you stare at him, you aren’t exactly proud when it consumes you entirely.

And you vomit.

The tension in your chest finally bubbles over and you expel the contents of your stomach onto the table. Nobody moves, only you, hands gripping your chair as your chest heaves. You’re vaguely aware of Kodo standing beside you now, he’s speaking but you don’t hear a word, you only hear a ringing in your ears until you look at Din, who nods at you, just once, and everything comes back into focus.

“He can’t hurt you.” Kodo’s voice is sickly sweet in your ear as he hands you a handkerchief from the table set up, giving you a moment to wipe your mouth as you fight back the urge to be sick all over again. “His restraints are state of the art, it doesn’t matter how much of a fight he puts up, he isn’t getting out of them.”

Your brain is trying desperately to come up with some genius plan to get all of you out of this but you're coming up empty.

There is nothing.

“I’m thinking guillotine.” Kodo’s voice is a whisper now as he bends down to speak to you.

“You do public executions on Naboo?” Your voice matches his in volume, but your eyes never leave Din, he’s struggling against them, but six battle droids? It wouldn’t matter if it was six Mandalorians.

“I’m the king now, I can do whatever I want.”

“Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.”

Oh.

“Defiling the queen is considered an act of treason in my eyes, so yes, it will be a public execution for these two.” He points at Din and then Elaine and at this point you have a headache as you try desperately to make the pieces of this demented puzzle fit together. You take a shuddering deep breath.

Leo found the book.

He told Kodo.

Kodo had Din drawn and quartered. He would have been with Elaine, she was taken as well.

He told them he took advantage of you.

That he defiled you.

So you would be guiltless.

And Elaine corroborated his story.

Said she helped him.

They had saved you.

And now they’re going to pay for it.

“Why don’t we see the traitor’s face, guard?” Kodo’s voice tears you from your mental gymnastics as he snaps, pointing at Din and you can’t help it as you shoot up to be standing.

“No!” The word is punched out of your chest, all the air leaving your body with it.

“No?” Din stops struggling as everyone turns to face you now, Kodo’s question rings throughout the room as you try to come up with something, anything, to stop this.

“You wanted to surprise me? Then we should wait, we should save the reveal.” Your words are rushed, you will do anything to keep that helmet on his head right now.

“The reveal?” Kodo hisses.

“No one’s ever seen his face, we shouldn’t waste this opportunity on some random dinner.” Is this even worth it? At this point you’re probably just getting yourself killed.

Now no one speaks. You finally manage to tear your eyes from Din to turn and face Kodo.

“We should save it.” You whisper, you don’t even care if this gets you killed, you just want to keep his helmet on his head until you can figure out how to keep his head on his shoulders.

Kodo’s sneer turns into a smirk.

“What a good idea.” You let out the breath you’d been holding in. “Maybe you aren’t completely bland, wife.” He puts a hand on the small of your back and you manage to keep yourself from recoiling. “Well then, I think we’re done here.” He whistles, once, clear and sharp and a pair of guards take Elaine by the arms, dragging her away but not before you manage to shoot her one last look of gratitude for what she’s done for you.

You finally look back at Din.

Thrashing against the hold that the droids have on him until they yank him up into a standing position.

What you wouldn’t give to be able to say anything to him, even just a single word.

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore sweet wife, it’s over.” Kodo’s words are hot and vile against your ear as he puts a hand on your shoulder, hovering over you as you watch Din being dragged out of the room.

He puts up one hell of a fight, one final reminder of just how strong your Mandalorian is, it takes all six of Kodo’s droids to keep him down.

You don’t like the sight of it.

There’s something fundamentally wrong about Din being overpowered.

You manage to swallow down the sob that threatens to rip through you as you get one final look at him as the doors slam shut, you fight the urge to recoil when Kodo leans down to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

“Your little nightmare is over.” He mumbles, his voice filled with an underlying joy.

It’s just started.

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#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #pedro pascal

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ohbother2 · 2 months

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Hi everyone,

I know it's been ages and some of you have probably seen this notification and have hoped that this means the fics on this page will be updating, however, I've got some bad news.

This blog was a joint account between two friends who loved creating silly stories of some of our favourite characters in our free time and gushing over character details with one another. Beyond tragically, my friend, the co-runner of this account, passed away a few months ago. Obviously, I'm keeping the details private, but it was sudden and unexpected.

I know this is a shock to all of you, and not what you were expecting to hear after such a long hiatus. Understandably, I've not been active on tumblr, particularly this account, since. It's felt incredibly wrong to login to this blog and even attempt to re-read some of the stuff posted or your comments/tags, especially without her to talk to about all your lovely messages. She really did love reading them, and we'd call for hours to laugh and talk about your kind messages.

Although I acted as what you'd call the 'face' of this account, actually posting, reblogging, commenting and following others, she was integral to the heart of this account, to the ideas and writing and editing that made this account what it is, and I don't want to continue posting heacannons/one-shots/any kind of creative writing on this blog without her. This was our passion-project, and a massive chunk of it is now missing.

I just wanted to let you guys know what the situation with this blog is and why, and I wanted to give a massive thank you from both of us for being the most supportive, kind-hearted, and tight-knit community we'd ever had or seen on Tumblr before. The fact we even had fan-art made of our writing goes to show how dedicated and incredibly talented this fandom is, how supportive and just genuinely excited everyone is to hype each other up and lift each other and appreciate all our passions. It's genuinely insane, and so rare in modern internet spaces.

Regarding the future of this account, because I don't want to leave unfinished fics floating around the website, and for personal reasons, I will be transferring all fics/one-shots over to AO3, marking them as incomplete, and 'orphaning' them. I've really debated this decision, and I believe it's the one she'd be most happy with. I'm just giving you guys fair warning, I'll wait a few weeks before I actually do anything. I don't know if I'll delete this blog, I'm rather attached, but I won't be active for a while.

Probably most importantly, if anyone wants to take our ideas or our unfinished fics/one-shots and complete them/edit the story/adapt our head-cannons/incorporate them into your own fics, please do. I think it'd be nice to inspire and help other fic writers, and see the ideas carried on in whatever way you guys choose. Everything on this account is effectively 'orphaned' already, so feel free to do whatever you want with it :).

This is getting long, but I also wanted to say thank you to everyone who sent in requests, funny comments, little anecdotes, and witty one-liners into our messages/asks, both that we did and didn't respond to, especially lately. We planned to do a great return to this blog after our exams responding to them all/clogging up your feeds. Someone even called us their 'favourite niche internet micro celebrity', and we both found it hilarious.

There's no gofundme or anything like that set up. Sometimes, things just don't go as we plan and there's nothing we can do. If I've learnt anything from this godawful situation, it's that you should do whatever you want as soon as possible. Don't wait to join that club. don't wait to take that trip, don't wait to watch that show, don't wait to visit friends or family, don't wait to begin doing a hobby that you think you'll love. Anything can happen, and the only time we know that we have for certain is now. (Master Uguay was right in Kung Fu Panda after all).

I won't be active for a while, but I'll check in to see how this post is doing now and again, and I'll probably post again just before I begin taking things down.

Thank you guys, and I hope you don't dwell on this post too long.

#yep #still don't know how to end this #thank you all again #for anyone who wants to know im doing fine thank you #grief is a funny thing #but things get easier #and people keep living

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greenqueenhightower · 2 months

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Wondering if the “only pro Alicent if she denounces everything, cleaves and admits to only ever loving Rhaenyra” Rhaenicents, team black and Daemyras who made Alicole all about Rhaenyra will make Rhaenyra x Mysaria all about Alicent?

Is Mysaria just a vessel for Rhaenyra to act out her Alicent Girlkissing fantasies on? Is Rhaenyra just a stand in for Daemon?

Are people going to flood the Mysaria/ Rhaenyra tags on Ao3 with fics of Rhaenyra making Mysaria wear a red wig and green dress? Is Rhaenyra going to give herself a half up half down hair style and call a training sword "DarkSister"?

Did Rhaenyra call out Alicent's name when climaxing?

Or will we not see these same sentiments at all because people don't devalue Rhaenyra like they do Alicent?

Hi anon 💚

For sure Alicent is hated and villainized in this fandom just as Rhaenyra is freely excused and glorified. It hurts to see the devaluation of Alicent's character. However, I cannot respond for the rest of the fandom, and for me at least, Mysaria x Rhaenyra is about Alicent.

Mysaria's comment about Rhaenyra's worthiness to rule, and her feeling secure around her and proud of her are sentiments that Rhaenyra herself sought to find in Alicent, who had the same pride and admiration of her abilities when they were young girls. Rhaenyra had missed the genuine praise and support that Alicent gave her and saw a glimpse of that in Mysaria.

As they embraced, I felt that Rhaenyra was transported back to her reckless and free childhood years when she was so celebrated by her childhood friend and crush. When she saw Alicent again in the sept, Alicent had affirmed her devotion to the same belief: that Rhaenyra would make a fine Queen, and that Alicent used to be proud of her.

Now that Alicent is out of reach, Mysaria embodies the same figure that Rhaenyra was seeking all along. She is standing next to her and tells her that she is a rightful ruler and that she is meant to be Queen. Rhaenyra hugs her without hesitation as she would her childhood crush.

I don't know if I'm right or wrong or if I'm reading too much into this, but that is my take. And I would write a longer analysis post on it if I was less weary of being shunned because of the reality you expressed above.

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pinkomcranger · 7 months

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my thoughts on Saga Anderson and the lack of spotlight on her in fanworks

Hmmm…this has been bothering me since I waded into the fandom after AW2 dropped. WHY DOES 99.9% OF THE FANDOM SLEEP ON SAGA WHILE IT'S HALF HER GAME???

I DON'T understand the fixation on Casey (even though I adore him and he's the other half of my OTP), or Zane to the point that when Saga is in ensemble art, she's relegated to being the "bro". And for what purpose? She has just as much build up and storyline as Alan himself. She certainly has more screen time than FBI Casey. I see posts going "oh, I love Saga so much, she was so badass" and then almost nothing when it comes to fan work.

Do y'all understand, how, as a black woman, this frustrates me to NO end? I go to her tag on AO3, see new fics, get excited...just to see she's the bro or footnote to CaseyWake. I've literally been brought to TEARS over this. Saga was written with SO much love and care, and it's so obvious. She was not the stereotypical sassy, angry, loud black woman that we tend to get when we're even thought of at all.

And it's genuinely PAINFUL to see all of the love, all of that care, ALL OF THAT RESPECT, IGNORED by fandom because you want to focus on the white men. Because why? I get it, het is so icky for most of you, fine. But to not even give her fanart/fics just on her and her daughter? It's terribly egregious.

Saga Anderson is genuinely a role model. She's smart, warm, funny, dedicated, sympathetic and passionate. She will change REALITY just to save the ones she loves. She's NEVER had to deal with anything like the Bright Falls situation and she came through it with such GRACE. She saved the fucking day. She did what Alan couldn't do in THIRTEEN YEARS. And she gets no recognizance in fanworks?

And I know the majority of this fandom happens to be made up of women, at least for fanworks. You truly mean to tell me you can't, at all, even a little bit, relate to this woman? You can't make her the focus, instead of a background character? The white men are easier to understand and draw/write for?

I can't tell anyone who to like, or who to ship, nor would I ever try to, because on the internet, it seems like het is icky despite how amazing the woman is. But I've seen comments towards andercase fanart going "Saga, no, you're married!" But shipping CaseyWake in the same breath, despite Alan being married and getting back to his wife being the main motivation for Alan to do anything at all.

It comes off as hypocritical, it comes off a wee bit "I don't know what to do with this black woman...hmm, let's just make her root for CaseyWake" I'm left feeling that Sam and the team love Saga more than the fans ever do or will. And that fucking sucks. Because to put so much thought into a character and love the character, just to be ignored?

That hurts, really really badly. I genuinely enjoyed feeling like I was represented. I loved having a character I could relate to, one I could understand. But it feels like I'm in the minority. When she tells Alan he's not alone in this, this is THEIR story...well, that was the truth for me, and I wish others felt the same way.

I genuinely adore the works Saga has gotten that focus on her, and I see so much love and care put into them. It just somehow feels like fandom made this game into CaseyWake 24/7 and it's icky.

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 3 months

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My Work on Archive Of Our Own

Please ignore if me gushing about the reception of my fics is irritating. I understand there are some people who genuinely hate when fanfic writers do this, so I'm putting it under the cut so you don't have to see it!

(And fair warning; if this irritates you and you still decide to click 'keep reading' and you then decide that I am obviously up myself so I deserve a hate anon or several, I need to preemptively remind you that I gave you the choice not to engage. You will be blocked and I shall call you a silly little guy if you do this.)

I also would like to make this an invitation to anyone who wants to share their proudest stats, or a nice comment they got, or even just something they are really really happy about in having written their fic. (No need to click read more, just go for it and use this as your excuse to show some pride.) On any platform!

Gonna tag the following: @lya-dustin @ewanmitchellcrumbs @the-common-cowgirl @the-wonderland-madnesss @marthawrites

@vampire-exgirlfriend @exitpursuedbyavulcan @emilykaldwen @ripdragonbeans @aegonx

Feel free to turn this into a pass-on game, if you like! We should celebrate the things that make us happy, too. ❤️

I've not ever really posted about this because, IDK, I worry about being considered a conceited asshole. I figure, though, that this is my blog and my safe space and if I want to celebrate something I'm proud of then I should be able to do so. Nor am I implying that I believe this is any sort of metric of popularity or superiority, OR that I write for the sole purpose of validation through clicks and numbers. I have very little interest in engaging with any of that rhetoric. NO. It's just a convenient bonus, kinda like how I love my job and the fact I get paid is awesome but not my primary reason for doing it.

Okay, I think I've got the disclaimers out the way? (Can never be too sure with fandom.)

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reads my stuff. Not only on here, but on Archive Of Our Own, which is more or less a place I consider the Ultimate Fanfiction Site (TM). It used to be fanfiction.net for me, but then their ads got annoying and their content ban gross, so AO3 it is! I've read fanfiction on AO3 since I was like 13, and I still find it crazy beyond belief that my work is not only on there, but that it gets any sort of traction at all.

As a little acknowledgement of something I'm proud of, I wanted to document my stats on my big series, terms of endearment, as of June 2024. It is by and large the biggest project I have ever done, and I've poured countless hours of researching, writing and editing into it.

darilaros (princess)

Words: 48,843 Comments: 254 Kudos: 801 Bookmarks: 111 Hits: 21,971

gevivys (beauty)

Words: 52,147 Comments: 578 Kudos: 2,965 Bookmarks: 490 Hits: 106,019

dōnus riñus (sweet girl)

Words: 58,775 Comments: 660 Kudos: 3,414 Bookmarks: 635 Hits: 141,339

ilībītsos (little slut)

Words: 62,725 Comments: 556 Kudos: 1,880 Bookmarks: 289 Hits: 99,939

ñuhus prūmȳs (my heart)

Words: 104,063 Comments: 1,188 Kudos: 2,274 Bookmarks: 368 Hits: 110,356

jorrāeliarzus (beloved) (ongoing)

Words: 38,451 Comments: 234 Kudos: 454 Bookmarks: 86 Hits: 16,208

That makes for a total of 365,004 words; 3,470 comments; 11,788 kudos; 1979 bookmarks; and 495,832 hits. Jesus Christ.

To everyone who kudos'ed, commented, bookmarked, subscribed or even just clicked on the link to the fic, thank you very much. This series has grown and grown, not just in my head but also in audience. It's given me so much encouragement and support in my writing, and a feeling like maybe I am decent at this? I don't know. I used to write when I was a kid, but I stopped during high school. Rediscovering the joy of it hasn't just been rewarding in terms of having fun with it, but also in discovering that there are people who genuinely want to read what I'm putting out. I've spent a lot of my life feeling powerless and silenced, so this really means so much to me.

I am going to keep on writing for as long as I possibly can, because I genuinely haven't found a hobby as long-lived and fulfilling as this.

Thank you. I'm so very lucky. I'm so grateful. I love you all!

#ao3 milestone

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okay-babe · 6 months

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Hiya Dot! Sorry for the random ask but I am so in love with your writing that it single-handedly got me into this accursed fandom, and now I'm wondering where to start with other authors. Do you happen to have any fic or author recs??

Hi there, anon! I'm so glad you asked because I definitely have some author/fic recs that I'm more than happy to share with you/anyone else who comes across this post!

Before we begin though, shout out to all of the people I mention below! I hope none of you mind being tagged/linked but let me know if you do and I'll remove everything asap :)

1. Starting off strong, we have the amazing @jyoongim! She's been my mutual since I think like day one or two of me creating this account, and I honestly cannot think of anyone more kind or welcoming. Plus, their writing is amazing! Like genuinely so good, I cannot recommend her highly enough. 2. Also, if you're into smut, I am always utterly baffled at the quality of @hazelfoureyes' work. Like, as someone on the ace spectrum, I can say very firmly that sometimes, I don't want to read smut, but even so, I will always read a new post from Hazel when I see it because they're just so well written that I simply cannot wait lol. Plus, their sense of humor is just *chef's kiss*. Love them, truly. (Note: I used they/them here because I don't know Hazel's pronouns, but if anyone does and they aren't gn feel free to let me know and I'll edit this post asap) 3. Additionally, if you like headcannon style writing @a-hazbin-reader is incredible. I've spent actual hours on her page just reading through some of the absolute art she posts there, and it is always a treat. Plus her interactions with her readers are usually either hilarious or incredibly sweet/kind, so it's a good time all around.

As for story/specific fic recommendations, I do have a few of those too!

1. The Deer Dolly series by @ohproserpine (Genuinely incredible writing and a killer story line). 2. You & Me for the worst eternity to come by Notafraidtosimp on AO3 (Definitely not your typical x reader series, but I love everything about it and would never forgive myself if I didn't use this opportunity to share it with everyone). 3. The Partners in Death... and Life series by @safination (This might just be my favorite Alastor series I have ever read, the writing is incredible and I simply cannot recommend it highly enough). 4. Even Death Can Never Part Us by JuliaRobHURTS on AO3 (This is an amazing ongoing long-fic that makes me gasp audibly every time I see that there's been an update. The way the characters are written is utter perfection every time).

I definitely forgot some amazing fics/authors here in my haste to get this posted before class, so everyone should feel more than welcome to comment some other recs if they want to! <3

#.talks #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #.recs

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the-furthest-city-light · 6 months

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Hey hi hello I'd like to tell you about the wonderful gift my friend @swordsmans made for me.

I literally spent Thursday night just. Looking through it and turning it over in my hands. It's SO pretty and has SUCH A VISION in the making of it. Gyro's work is amazing. Just. Look.

The cover? The gold foil lettering? God. It looks so good on my bookshelf. And the DETAIL. They painted the edges of the pages guys, it looks SO COOL.

(excuse the low-quality photos, I have learned i am terrible at staging books, but just LOOK AT THESE PAGES.)

Okay and now for me waxing poetic about this.

When gyro first mentioned that they were going to start commissions for binding people's fics I was excited for them and also planned to commission them to bind one of my own fics. I knew I wanted to get a bound copy of their fic The Sea Makes Bones of Bodies as well, because if you haven't seen the typesets for that and the copies they've made you really should (here's my personal favorite of their copies). So I reached out and imagine my surprise when I discovered Gyro was already planning to do so.

Genuinely one of my favorite experiences in fandom is seeing people make art for their favorite fics and be inspired by other fanworks so when I tell you that I was BEYOND HONORED about this and SO PUMPED, like. I don't have words. I'm so grateful to have received such a lovely gift (it's on my bookshelf next to my copy of Rilke. Rilke.) and I keep running around with a huge smile on my face because I still can't believe anyone liked my silly Zolu fic enough to be inspired to actually bind it and now I have it in my hands.

I don't actually know anything about bookbinding except for what I've gleaned from Gyro but I did wonder how it would like. Feel in my hand compared to traditionally published books. I'm super careful with it because I love it so much but this thing is not going to fall apart at the drop of a hat. Also the book just feels nice in my hands. Weird thing to notice maybe but Gyro also picked a lovely font? I read the fic (IN BOOK FORM AHHHHHHH) and it was just as readable as it is on AO3 (though obviously this is way better/more special askdfjajjakkkiss).

If you are interested in fanbinding and the actual process Gyro used to make this, they made a post here. If you would like to request a fanbinding project their form is here. Gyro's Kofi is here as well. And if you'd like to follow gyro's fanbinding archive that would be here.

Okay! I think that's all I wanted to say. Gyro it was so lovely to have a front-row seat to the creation process and see how you made the book. Genuinely one of the best gifts I've ever received, thank you so much!!!

#bad blade bindery #fanbinding #zolu #book binding #spill your wine #gyro AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #I love it so much <3

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fichubbieslvrrr · 1 month

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💢 Pay Up! 💢

pairing: Taiju x Fem!reader

cw : nsfw, repaying debt, oneshot

a/n : ugh why did he have to be so fine!!! cross posted on ao3

wc : ≈3k

Once again you're in this mess.

Twenty thousand dollars in debt due to your gambling addiction.

Life really is funny...you despised your father for wasting every ounce of money he got on slot machines, roulette, poker, all sorts of nonsense.

Yet, here you are...in the same position.

"Emma, what should I do!?," you ask your best friend desperately.

She gazes up at you with a bored expression...you can't blame her though...she's probably tired of seeing you get yourself in these situations.

With a slow blink, she drawls,"Uhh...well...you gotta pay it back..."

You give her an unimpressed expression.

"Yeah I know that much...but how?"

She looks at the ceiling for a bit before looking back at you.

"Well you could ask a loan shark for money..."

You stare at her for a moment...

"Emma... girl...I love you but...that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

She scoffs in offense," How!? It's a good idea!"

You shake your head, " No...it's not...I'll just be going from one debt to another."

She pauses before speaking, "Well..yeahhh...but there's more at play here than just that..."

You listen intently.

"Those casino guys are hardcore, if you don't repay them...they could kill you...or worse..."

"What's worse than getting killed...?" You ask genuinely.

"Well...truth is they might not kill you, because then they won't get back their money...so...the next option would be to sell you...to make back up the money."

You freeze. Your face going pale as you imagine something like that happening to you. Your blood runs cold thinking about it.

You swallow thickly, "Um...so how's the loan shark thing gonna work...?"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You stand in front of the imposing Shiba nightclub. It really comes to life as the sun goes down. You've passed it a couple times before but never went in...it just seemed, out of your price range.

But today, you'll have no choice but to walk through those doors to meet with...𝘩𝘪𝘮

You shudder at the thought.

From what Emma told you, he's an ex gang leader, who opened a nightclub after his little brother passed away. He still runs some sketchy businesses though, using the nightclub as a way to clean his blood money.

Owing him won't be fun but at least you'll be able to get those casino thugs off your back.

You walk through the messy crowd of sweaty, sticky bodies, grinding and swaying against each other. It takes everything in you not to vomit. Finally you're met with a staircase but as you walk up it, a firm grip lands on your hand.

"Where the hell are you going darlin'~?", A man dressed in all black asked.

"Um...I need to see...uh...Mr. Taiju Shiba please."

"The boss?...You a hooker?"

You shake you head quickly. You didn't think you gave off that impression especially when you're dressed in a crew neck sweater and ankle length skirt.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?

"No, I'm here to um... ask for a loan." You raise your voice slightly to compete with the blasting music in the club.

The man nods, smiling at you which revealed his gold tooth before sending you upstairs.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As you reach on the flat the noise gets quieter, you look around at the aquariums filled with exotic fish decorating the room. The scent irritates your nose, it reeks of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

As you walk deeper into the room, you notice two guards stationed on either side, they do nothing but look at you closely.

Eventually, you face forward, your eyes landing in a large man sitting in a circular couch and he swirls a glass of whiskey in his hand. He's not paying much attention to you, instead he's busy looking at paperwork.

One of the guards notice this and call out to him. "Boss...the lady."

It tears his attention away from the stack of papers as he looks at you.

"What?..."

Holy shit this guy is scary! His hair slicked back with a tattoo running up his neck. His face a bit scarred and a harsh gaze. Plus...he's huge.

He stands up, slowly walking toward you... he's got to be at least 6'4.

You fidget where you stand as he halts in front or you, a menacing expression on his face.

"You gonna answer me or not!?" His face contorting in anger.

You clutch your purse with shaky hands as you try to answer him.

"U-um...I ...I need a loan... please..." You managed to get those few words out, barely making eye contact with him in fear.

He suddenly erupts in laughter resting his heavy hand on your shoulder.

"You look like you're gonna shit your pants!" He jokes crudely, "I haven't seen someone look at me like that in a while!"

Roughly, he wraps an arm around your shoulder as he walks back to the couch, tugging you along.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You sit in silence as he lights a cigarette, putting it to his lips.

"So...what's the deal with you now...?" He stares straight into your eyes as he blows a puff of smoke in your direction.

Blocking your nose discreetly form inhaling the toxic air, you answer.

"Well, I need to borrow twenty thousand dollars."

His eyes widen before he laughs in your face.

"Twenty thousand dollars!? What did you get yourself into to be needing that much money!"

You look to the ground feeling embarrassed, "...it's complicated."

His face goes serious again...god this guy is crazy...

He sighs before taking another puff. "Well sorry little lady, I don't give out that much money to first time borrowers."

Your face drops, you feel like you've been pushed into a bottomless pit of despair. If he won't give you the money...how are you gonna pay off your debt...

"Sir please," your voice trembling, "I really need this money, I promise I'll pay you back if you could just—"

His hand goes up ,signaling for you to stop talking. He pushes the cigarette butt into the ashtray as he leans back on the couch, watching you...

"I don't run this business on promises...but since I love helping out a desperate woman..." He chuckles coldly, "I'll loan you the money."

You want to smile and be glad that you got what you wanted but the expression on his face only shows that you've gotten yourself in more trouble than you bargained for.

'𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯' The words repeat in your mind...and they don't sound good

But nonetheless, you can't be picky right now so you listen to his terms.

"I'll give you the cash, then you'll have 2 weeks to pay it back to me, with five thousand dollars interest."

𝘍𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵!?...𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵.

"O-ok, got it." You hesitantly agree.

He laughs bitterly, "If you don't pay it back in time...then you'll have to show me what that little body of yours can do."

This time you can't contain the scowl that appears on your face. You're not naive, you expected something along those lines but at least it'll be with him alone and you won't be sold into prostitution...hopefully.

But either way, you won't let it get to that point. Come hell or high water, you'll pay this man back his money.

Clearing your throat you reply as confidently as you can.

"Alright, deal."

—2 𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙠𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧—

You've cleared your casino debt and haven't gambled since, making you feel quite proud of yourself.

As for the money you owe Taiju...well a perfect solution fell right onto your lap.

You had been struggling to think of ways to pay him back (without having to sleep with him) but you came up with nothing. Even the ideas that you did have wouldn't be able to get you twenty-five thousand dollars in such a short amount of time.

Then it happened.

Your grandmother passed away and left you and each one of your cousins, fifty thousand dollars.

You couldn't believe your luck, although it's a shame half of that money had to go to a loan shark but still it's a much better situation than you were in before.

And you weren't that close with your grandmother anyway so...you definitely weren't in mourning or anything.

You put the money in a backpack and head to the nightclub.

Having this much cash on you at night is not enjoyable but you remain calm...no one knows you have it so you'll be fine.

You can see the lights of the nightclub ahead but as you pass an alley, a figure emerges.

You freeze as you hear a click close to your head.

"Drop the bag." The voice orders as he points a gun at you.

With tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you take the bag off your shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

Swiftly the man picks it up, chuckling quietly as he runs past you.

And you swear...just for a split second...

You can see the glimmer of a gold tooth under the moonlight...

But you're in too much shock to focus on that right now. You stand still as a statue as you contemplate what to do next.

Should you still go to the nightclub and tell Taiju you were robbed?...Would he even care?

Obviously not.

Should you go home and get the remainder money you have?

Ultimately, you decide to go to the club and explain the situation to him and maybe ask him for another week.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You tread up the stairs weakly, dreading seeing him.

He's waiting for you with a large grin on his face...

"Well look who's here! But...I don't see my money on you?"

You slouch onto the sofa, gazing at him with an exhausted expression before you muster up the words.

"I...I was robbed...I had the money...I swear...if you could give me more ti—"

You try to plead with him but he interrupts you, his voice low and serious.

"I don't do that, I gave you two weeks...and you agreed to it," He continues, "So either you make magic and the money appears in front of me right now or..."

You rest your head in your palms, feeling defeated and hopeless as he speaks to you.

"Aww don't look so upset...I'll fuck you real good, I promise." He laughs mockingly.

The two guards stationed immediately leave the room, and that's when you know...it's getting serious.

He tugs at your long accordion skirt, pulling it all the way down.

"Oh you got some pretty legs..."

He rubs the plush skin, pushing his thumb firmly against your inner thigh.

"But you dress like an old church lady."

You remain silent just watching him with a scornful frown.

"Aw don't pout those glossy lips..."

He leans close to your ear, whispering.

"...maybe they'll look better wrapped around my cock."

Your breath hitches as he roughly pressed his mouth against your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks.

His hand grabs your shirt, pulling the buttons open and pushing his hand into your bra.

You gasp, holding onto his hand to try to slow him down.

He lifts up from your neck, slapping your hand away as he rips down your bra.

𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦...

He puts his mouth on your soft breasts, flicking his tongue against your sensitive nipple.

Your head tilts back, quiet whimpers escaping your mouth.

"...ah ...hah...ah ..."

You feel him smile smugly against your breasts.

"Ah~...you're enjoying this aren't you~"

He stands up in front of you, his hand swiftly unbuckling his belt.

Your eyes widen as he pulls off his pants...

...It's so big...

You can't help but stare at the imprint of his cock straining through his boxers, the head tucked to the left with his heavy balls between his legs.

You feel your face heat up, turning away in embarrassment.

"Take it off for me doll~..."

He puts your hands on his waistband, urging you to pull down his boxers.

Despite your reluctance, you're still very curious to see his size, without anything in the way.

You do as he says, letting his boxers drop.

You gasp slightly as his thick, hard cock springs free, twitching in your face.

"Come on~, you gonna look at it all day..? Y'know what to do~" He grins down at you eagerly.

You hold the base firmly...god it feels so heavy in your hand.

Slowly, you begin giving the tip kitten licks, tasting the salty precum that leaks from him.

His hands grip your hair tightly.

"As cute as this looks, if you're gonna make me cum..."

"you'll have to use the back of your throat~!"

Suddenly he pushes his cock down your throat, bucking his hips in your mouth as you choke.

"Ahh~ that's—hah— much...better,"

Your eyes water as you look up at him, too stuffed to protest, plus his hand keeps your head steady on his cock.

You suck as much as you could as he hammers your throat.

Until finally you feel that warm liquid fill your mouth.

He releases his grip on you, letting his glistening cock slip out your mouth.

You pant for air, coughing as you swallow every drop of his cum.

He lifts your chin to look at him. "Mm that taste good~?"

You ignore his question as you wipe your mouth, trying to get the bitter taste of his cum off you...must be all that smoking and alcohol....

You lean back on the sofa, eyes closed, breathing heavily to catch your breath.

"Don't relax too much doll face..."

You open your eyes to see him looking at you hungrily as he strokes his cock, drops of precum forming at the tip.

"But you just came!?" You groan in disbelief.

He chuckles bitterly,"So? ... I'm not satisfied until I can pound that tight pussy of yours~"

Abruptly, he pushes your legs up on the couch, making the wet spot on your underwear visible.

"Ah~ so you're liking this much more than I thought..." He teases, tracing his thumb over the spot.

You cover your face in embarrassment as he takes off your underwear, leaving you very exposed to him, just as he wanted.

But your arms quickly fall to the side as you feel his broad tongue swipe over your wet slit, making a moan slip out your mouth.

You gaze down at him teary eyed, watching as he spits and suckles on your clit, slurping up every bit of liquid that oozes out of you.

"O-oh god~ ...wait...not...so rough..." You whine, yet you're grinding against his tongue.

He chuckles at your movements, then lets his tongue delve into your gummy walls, swirling around as he laps up everything inside you.

Tears roll down your cheeks as your legs start shaking, your hands tangling in his hair as he pushes the firm muscle in more.

"Mmhm...god yes~ keep going~..." You moan out while writhing against his face.

To your dismay, he pulls out his tongue, a string of saliva following it.

Your half lidded eyes gaze at him as he kneels on the couch pushing your legs up to touch your shoulders as he positions himself at your achingly needy entrance.

Grinning at you, he leans down close to your face.

"Let's see how much you can take pretty girl~..."

Your mouth hangs open as he pushes in, not giving you time to adjust to his size.

Desperately you grab onto his arms digging your fingers into his skin as you let out raspy moans.

You see stars as he bottoms out, his cock throbbing inside you.

"Hah...fuck you're so tight~..."

He pulls out halfway before slamming it in again, pounding you relentlessly.

"But I'll fuck your pussy till it's loose~"

You make desperate, incoherent sentences as he hits your sweet spot over and over and over again.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he quickens his pace, fucking you hard as you scream a string of curse words.

You look down at the fast movements of his cock sliding in and out of you. You didn't want to enjoy this but it just feels so good...

And your body doesn't lie...

He places his thumb your clit, rubbing the puffy, swollen nub as he pummels you.

Your legs on his shoulders giving him full access to fill your greedy pussy that just keeps sucking him in.

You put your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly as your body peaks.

"Yeah ..hah...that's it...cum on my cock."

Your vision goes white as you climax intensely, your pussy squirting sweet juices on him.

He laughs at your blissed out expression but not letting up on fucking you.

"Be good and let me fill you up nicely doll face~ alright..."

You bite your lip as his hips stutter, cumming deep inside you.

You gaze up at his face, low grunts and groans escaping his lips.

God he looks...so fucking hot...

Slowly, he pulls out, grinning smugly as he watches his cum spill out of you, slapping your pussy lightly.

"Mm, you did very good~" He rubs your cheek, pinching it gently.

You look at him with tired eyes, his intense gaze staring back at you.

Breathlessly, you whisper to him.

"Taiju...can we...do this again sometime?"

He grins.

#taiju shiba #taiju x reader #taiju x y/n #tokrev #tokyo revengers #fanfic #mikey #mikey sano #sano manjiro #ao3 fanfic

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