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obscure-imagines · 1 year

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wet dreams - Zoro

🍃staring. Zoro Roronoa x afab!Reader

⚔️ preview. The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, wet dreams, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, praise, exhibitionism (sex outside in the Crowsnest), cum play/swallowing, fingering, mutual masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick zoro, fingering, overstim, mutual orgasm, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.

🔫 rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I wc. 3.7k

⚔️ aus. One Piece Live Action, pwp, acquaintances to lovers, etc…

🍀 mlist + an. I showed Sanji and Mihawk some love so I figured I might as well adore my big three and make it a full set with Zoro.

Zoro is exhausted. His body feels heavy as he lumbers around the ship, his footfalls a little too loud on the wooden deck. His eyes are practically shutting on their own, but he resists the need to nap.

He's been having problems lately... when he sleeps.

While he's able to keep himself mostly in check around you during his waking hours, his mind - and body - have been betraying him in dreamland.

He's woken up five nights this week with the soft sounds of your moans etched into his memory and his pants ruined with the sticky truth about his feelings for you.

Naps had once been a time of rest, but Zoro has been anything but restful since Luffy convinced you to join the crew two weeks ago.

Zoro hates feeling like he's not in control. He hates the way you seem so real in his mind's eye, only for him to wake up and watch you acting completely indifferently toward him- as if he didn't just watch you go down on his cock in explicit detail- as if he didn't just try to fuck you so hard you couldn't even walk-

Being around you is something like torture. His tongue gets tied, his heart races, and he's unable to hold a conversation with you about anything unrelated to piracy... and even then, he stumbles over his words and gets frustrated with himself.

You're just too beautiful.

The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.

He does his best to be the last to go to bed, out of fear that someone will walk in while he's sleeping and hear his problem, hell, he wouldn't be shocked if they could even see it.

It's not even midday and Zoro feels like death. It doesn't help that it's hot out. The wind feels practically nonexistent. Everything is stale, sweaty, and full of tension. Even Sanji, who usually dresses in formalwear, has stripped himself of his button-up, opting for an undershirt instead.

Then there's you. Your shorts don't leave much to the imagination, and Zoro has to tear his gaze off of you every time you get within his line of sight. His cock is practically throbbing in his pants anytime you're nearby- anytime your soft scent lingers in the air when you walk past.

"You look like shit."

Zoro sighs at Sanji's words, refusing to look at the chef who's come to lean on the rail next to him, staring out at the sea.

"I mean it. And I'm not trying to be a dick, but seriously moss head, you look like you need some rest," Sanji presses on. "When was the last time you had one of your famous Roronoa naps?"

"I wasn't aware they were famous," Zoro sighs, this conversation is making him even more tired.

"We all know you get a little scratchy without your beauty sleep," Sanji smirks. "Go on, get some rest. It's a shit day, and it will be even more shit if you're in a bad mood. I'll wake you up for dinner."

Usually, Zoro wouldn't do anything Sanji suggests, he wouldn't even entertain it- but the idea of a nap is having a visceral effect on him. He's reminded of the exhaustion that's overtaken him, and the harsh sun is only making things worse.

Zoro lets out a deep breath. "I guess I could use a little shut-eye."

You let out a loud whimper as Zoro drags his tongue across your neck, holding you close on the deck of the ship. Above, the stars are twinkling, but to the swordsman, all that matters is you. He can hardly see anything else, his mind completely blank except for the feeling of your hand stroking his cock.

"I need more," you tell him, applying just the right amount of pressure.

He's tried dissuading you from sucking his cock, but you're absolutely insatiable for him. Stroking isn't enough, and the promise of filling you up all nice and snug doesn't satisfy you either- no, you want him in your mouth, and you're very verbal about it.

Who is Zoro to deny you?

With a sigh, he agrees, and you sink to your knees immediately.

God, you look beautiful like this.

Your thumb strokes the head of his cock, rubbing through precum as you bring your mouth closer.

You're always a bit of a tease, licking at him gently, pumping his shaft. Zoro can't help but release a small groan, eyes fixed on you, waiting.

When you finally take him into your mouth, Zoro moans, his head lolling back as he enjoys the feeling.

"That's it, angel," he tells you, reaching down to grab at your head, helping you find a rhythm. "Just like that."

You take him so deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat much too easily. The feeling of you choking around him has Zoro's abdomen clenching, and a familiar sensation is growing in his balls-

It's as if you can read his mind, your hand snaking up to massage his most sensitive area while you continue practically gagging yourself on his cock.

The sound is absolutely obscene, and Zoro's never heard anything so pretty.

"If you keep sucking like that, I'm going to cum," he warns you, wanting to hold out to finish in your perfect, needy little cunt-

The way you suck on him even harder makes Zoro think you want him to cum. You want him to release down your throat, want to swallow him up like the good girl you are.

Again, who is Zoro to deny you?

"Fuck, angel," he groans, orgasm rising even faster. "You're always so good for me."

You whimper loudly around his cock, stroking your tongue along the vein that runs the underside of his length while squeezing his balls, and that's all it takes for him to cum.

He lets out a grunt as he shoots his load down your awaiting throat, his brows knitted together in concentration and something close to overstimulation. He whispers your name, over and over like a mantra while you suck him dry, eager for every single drop he can give- you're his greedy little angel, and he loves you with every fiber of his being.

You pull off of him when he's done, staring up at him with eyes that reflect the stars above. Then, you stick out your tongue, proving to him that you'd swallowed all he had to give.

Zoro can't help but reach for you, lifting you back onto your feet so he can grab your face and press his lips against yours eagerly.

He treasures the moments you're in his arms, and there's something so satisfying about the salty taste on your tongue-

"Dinner!"

Zoro sits up so fast he nearly falls out of his hammock. His heart is thundering in his chest, and when his eyes quickly dart to the door, he sees that Sanji hadn't bothered to enter, only called out a word of warning.

Swallowing thickly, Zoro looks down at his pants. He can feel his cum, hot and sticky against his skin, his half-chubbed length angrily confined by pants.

Zoro's not sure who's more upset about being woken up from his dream, himself, or his cock.

Luffy has already gone through half the food by the time Zoro saunters into the dining area. The swordsman's eyes are downcast while he takes a seat next to the captain, and you're kind of glad for that- you want to watch him, but you doubt you'd be able to make eye contact with him right now.

Your skin tingles with the forbidden knowledge that you now have. Your mind keeps replaying the scene you'd walked in on not half an hour ago; Zoro, asleep, his brows knitted together, your name on his lips.

You hadn't stayed long upon finding him in that state, your skin too hot with the realization of what you'd just witnessed, and now, that fevered sensation returns.

You've always had a bit of a crush on Zoro, but you'd never in your wildest dreams imagined that it could be returned. Out of everyone on the ship, Zoro interacts with you the least. He practically avoids you, and you've just spent two weeks thinking he doesn't even like you-

No, this changes everything.

The man with green hair lifts his gaze, and your eyes meet momentarily, only for you to look away, skin flaring again. Your heart is practically beating out of your ribcage, and you can feel your panties sticking uncomfortably to your core.

You'll have to do something about this. You're not sure what- but... you definitely can't go much longer with this kind of unresolved tension. One dinner with a dripping pussy is enough.

You decide you'll have to confront Zoro, and something tells you that you'll thank God for doing so.

Once everyone is asleep, you slowly tiptoe out of the sleeping quarters. Zoro has been staying up late, keeping watch in the Crowsnest, and you feel like that's a perfect place to talk with him. There's no way he can escape... unless he jumps into the ocean and risks his life- but you don't think it will come to that... or at least, you hope it doesn't.

Carefully climbing the ladder, you think of all the things you can say to him. You're not sure where to even begin, and as you make it to the top, poking your head through the manhole to stare at Zoro's broad shoulders, all the words you'd planned slip your mind.

He hasn't noticed you yet, and it takes closing the ladder cover for him to finally hear you, whipping around with his hand reaching for one of his blades.

Zoro freezes. You both do.

Then his hand drops to his side. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought..." you bite at your lip, "I thought you might want some company."

He gives you a quick once over, then turns to look out at the sea again. "I'm good."

"Why do you act like you hate me so much?" you sigh, ignoring his dismissal and moving to join him.

"I don't act like I hate you."

"You hardly talk to me."

"I'm not a big talker."

You let out another exasperated sigh. There's some truth in what he's just said. "Then I'll talk."

"Go ahead."

Staring out at the sea, you're once again at a loss for what to say. After a few moments of silence, you decide to just... put it all on the table. "I walked in while you were napping earlier."

Zoro goes rigid next to you.

"What were you dreaming about?"

He's quiet, then he turns to look at you. "Sword fighting."

"I didn't think you'd actually lie to me," you frown.

"Who says I'm lying?"

"I just- I don't think sword fighting would lead to you moaning my name over and over."

Zoro looks out at the sea again. "You must think I'm some kind of pervert."

"Trust me, I don't," you assure him. "I'm kind of curious about what we were doing in your dream."

He sneaks a glance at you, and there's a hint of a smile that curls onto his pretty lips. "Yeah?"

You nod. "Maybe... maybe I've been having 'sword fighting' dreams too. We could... compare notes, or something."

Zoro lets out a laugh, shaking his head. The chuckle dies down into a groan. "Fuck." He grips the railing tighter, taking a deep breath. "You really wanna know what we were doing in my dream?"

"Yes, please."

The swordsman turns to face you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were down on your knees, sucking the fucking soul out of my cock."

If your panties hadn't been ruined at dinner, they're definitely ruined now. "I was?"

"Uh huh. You were begging for it. Begging for every last drop."

Your mouth practically waters at the idea. "And did you give it to me?"

"Of course I did," he says softly, scanning your face. "How could I not?"

"Should we..." Your skin heats at the words about to come out of your mouth, "Can we make that dream real?"

Zoro sucks in a shaky breath. "I think I have a better idea."

"A better idea than me sucking your cock?" You're shocked.

"You're always so good to me in my dreams, maybe I want to be good to you."

Your pussy throbs at the insinuation of what he's saying. Most men would jump at the chance to have your mouth around them, but it looks like tonight, the swordsman wants to be the one pleasuring you-

He's just like the Zoro from your wet dreams, and you have a suspicion that when it gets down to it, he'll be even better.

You can't help yourself any longer, you practically launch your body at him, throwing your arms around his strong shoulders while his hands catch you. Your lips meet as if it's the most natural thing in the world, a soft groan escaping him when you swipe your tongue across his mouth, already eager for entrance.

The kiss deepens, and his hands grip you tighter, pulling you flush to his chest. It feels absolutely insane to be actually doing this in your waking hours- nothing your mind could conjure up compares to the real Zoro-

You can feel his cock already pressing against your hip and it makes you whine loudly, shoving your hand between your bodies to cup him through his pants. He's as big as you imagined he would be, and your pussy flutters with interest.

"Zoro-" you whimper, already needing more.

You've been waiting too long for this, for him-

He groans. "Say that again."

One of his hands joins yours between your bodies, but his slips under the waistband of your shorts, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties.

"Fuck, angel, you're already soaked-"

"Zoro!" you moan, louder this time.

"Tell me you want my fingers."

"God, I need them," you gasp when he leans in, pressing kisses and tracing his tongue along your throat. "I need you inside of me- any of you, I just- I need you!"

"Good girl," he says smoothly, pushing your panties to the side.

His fingers make contact with your dripping cunt, and he teases your pussy lips, just dipping inside enough to coat his skin before he circles your clit.

You cry out, squeezing his cock harder-

"Enough of that," Zoro practically slaps your hand away from him. "Tonight is about you. Let it be about you."

"Fuck, you're too nice to me-"

"Trust me, you deserve it." His fingers sink into your pussy and you moan loudly, leaning forward to begin peppering his own throat in kisses. You thread your fingers through his hair, keeping him close as he begins pumping his digits in and out of your wet core.

You can already hear yourself- the sick squelching of your pussy as he works you open. His palm rubs against your clit, creating a delightful pressure that has your legs shaking and your toes curling.

"You sound so pretty."

Who knew he'd be such a sweet talker.

In the exhibitionistic privacy of the Crowsnest, with the crew sleeping soundly below, Zoro is showing you his true colors, and you couldn't be happier.

No one has touched you like this in too long- but then again, has anyone ever actually touched you like this?

You can't believe how close you already are to cumming. Your skin tingles and you moan louder against his neck, moving your mouth up to suckle on his earlobe.

Zoro groans, and the sound goes straight to your aching core.

"Close already?"

All you can manage is a nod, your eyes closing as you focus on the pleasure of his fingers pumping into your wet hole. "Please-"

"You can cum for me," he tells you. "I wanna hear it."

You can hardly even stand on your own. If it weren't for his strong form, steady under your grip, you're sure you'd be falling. His free palm is on the small of your back, keeping you snug to his front while his fingers work you closer and closer-

"Zoro," you whimper again, feeling tears in your eyes from how tight the coil in your stomach has grown.

"Be a good girl and let go for me. Come on, I know you can do it."

You let out a strangled half sob as your high slams into you. Your entire body tingles with electric energy as your core clamps onto his fingers, which continue inside of you, working you through your orgasm. You shake against him, digging your nails into his shoulders while you whimper and moan, lips pressed to his throat.

"That's it," he praises you, a steady guide through one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

You nearly black out, only for his fingers to slow inside of you, drawing you back into your body. Zoro removes his hand from your pants, and you listen to him suck his digits clean, letting out a small groan at your taste.

"Can I lay you down?" he asks next, tone gentle.

You nod, unable to speak. Zoro softly helps you onto the wooden floor of the small Crowsnest, staring at you with dark eyes that seem to sparkle in the moonlight.

He slowly undresses you, watching as you lift your hips to help him remove your shorts. Your shirt and bra are next, and he's careful to set them nearby before removing his own clothing.

"You still want to do this?" he asks.

"There's nothing I want more."

Once he's naked, Zoro gets between your thighs, holding himself over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. You grab at his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

His hard cock is too enticing for you not to touch, and soon, you're gripping it while your tongues battle. His moans are music to your ears, and you swipe your thumb over the head of his length to smear his skin with precum.

"You know-" he swallows thickly. "After today, after watching you cum on my fingers, I might not last that long."

"That's okay, I won't last long either." Your pussy is already aching for him again, and from the way his cock twitches in your hand, you know he's as into this as you are. "Just fuck me Zoro, please."

He kisses you deeply, allowing you to guide him to your wet hole.

He's big, but you're soaked, and slipping into you is much too easy. He sinks all the way in, his hips flush to yours when he bottoms out. You moan into each other's mouths, and you grab his face, wanting to keep his lips on yours as he begins to thrust into you.

"Fuck, Zoro, it's so good-" you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around him to earn another sound of appreciation.

"Angel, you're fucking perfect," he agrees, pace already quickening.

The sound of skin on skin fills the night air. You open your eyes, looking up at the moon and stars. It feels natural to be with him like this, under the watchful eye of the heavens-

Your nails dig into his shoulders when his hand adjusts your thigh on his hip. He drives deeper into your wet hole, and each thrust has your head spinning.

You can feel him everywhere, and it's the first time you've ever really felt full, complete.

"Zoro," you whisper, gaining his attention as you draw his lips back to your own.

You get lost in him. His cock is filling you perfectly, and his lips feel like they were made to be on your own.

That familiar tightening in your lower abdomen builds much too fast, and each thrust has Zoro grunting and moaning even louder-

"Fuck, angel, I'm close-"

"Me too," you assure him, pressing your forehead to his own and staring into his eyes. "You'll cum with me, right?"

He can only nod as you slip your hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your sensitive clit-

Your core tightens even more around his thick length and Zoro lets out a deep moan-

"Shit," he mutters, "where should I cum?"

"Inside," you insist. "Cum inside, I'm on birth control, please, I want it, I need it-"

Zoro's hand balls into a fist on the wooden plank by your head, and he groans. "Can't wait-"

"Me neither," you whisper, eyes closing as the feeling ravages your body, "Cumming-"

Zoro buries his face against your throat as you both reach your highs. You can feel him painting your inner walls, making you even more full than you already are with his cock- it's the most delightful feeling.

Your toes curl as he fucks you through it all, his pace even harder than before, if not a bit erratic. The sounds he's making will be something you never forget, and you cling to him like a lifeline, tracing his muscular shoulders and gasping-

It's as if your orgasm lasts ages, and when Zoro's motions finally begin to slow, it's hard to even catch your breath.

He begins to press kisses along your throat again, working his way to your ear, and then your mouth.

You can't help but grin into each soft press of his lips against your own.

"You look happy," he muses.

"That's because I am. Are you happy?"

"Very."

Your smile widens. "So we're done not talking and pretending to be indifferent to each other, right?"

"Completely done."

"Good, because I don't think I could go back to that."

"Me neither," he admits.

"I like you a lot."

Zoro presses another soft kiss to your lips, his pretty eyes twinkling with emotion in a way you've never seen from the swordsman. "I like you too."

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you liked this, check out my fics for Sanji and Mihawk :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here

#zoro roronoa #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa smut #roronoa zoro smut #opla smut #zoro opla #opla zoro #opla #one piece #one piece smut #one piece live action #zoro x reader

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innerfare · 29 days

Text

Smutty Beckman Headcanons

Summary: A collection of NSFW headcanons for Benn Beckman

Genre: pure smut

CW: big dick Beckman, daddy kink, marathon runner Beckman, sloppy kisses, bondage, mating press

———

Daddy. Don’t even bother calling him anything else.

Doesn’t view hookups as ideal. Deep down, he’s a kind and sensitive man who forms attachments and values loyalty. Nevertheless, he avoids relationships, realizing that getting close to a woman simply isn’t fair considering who he is and the danger that comes with it. Tends not to indulge in trysts unless he’s desperate.

When he does finally choose someone, he usually has quite a bit of pent energy up to let out. Much more of a marathon runner than a sprinter. Sex with him is nightly and all night. He's not into quickies, though he'll agree to one if there's no other choice (typically prefers oral sex for quickies though).

Is so bad at being selfish. Despite Shanks’ insistence that one night stands are not supposed to last more than thirty minutes, Beckman simply cannot stop and go. As such, he has quite the reputation with the ladies on the islands the crew visits repeatedly.

Has the biggest dick on the Red Force, which is another reason he's not one for quick one night stands. It's simply unfair not to go down on his partner before putting his dick in them. Even if he wanted to be selfish, he couldn't be.

He doesn’t want to share- no threesomes, no exhibitionism, no voyeurism, not even a few words uttered to Shanks when his captain asks for details. There aren’t many secrets on a pirate ship, but he’ll square up with anyone who tries to find out the details of his sex life. The only info the crew gets are from swooning partners who rave about him.

The crew knows better than to go after one of Beckman's old partners. Once a Beckman girl, always a Beckman girl. If they get married after sleeping with him and then he returns to their island, well... divorce might just follow for one more night with the first mate of the Red Hair Pirates.

Loves it when you feel him up, especially if you sit in his lap while you do it. Neck, chest, shoulders, arms, hands, and all of it over again. His favorite is when you get annoyed with his clothing and order him to take off his shirt. He always likes to imagine teasing you in this scenario, but as soon as you demand he strip down, he obliges.

Size kink. Wants to be able to wrap his hands around your thighs and waist like you're his little doll. Won't bully you with his size, though (not too much, at least). A little into choking, but he doesn't squeeze very hard; it's just about the size of his hand on your throat for him.

Loves a sensual blowjob, the kind where you squeeze his calves and rub his abdomen and suck slowly on his balls. But also the kind where you choke on his massive cock and he dabs the tears from the corner of your eyes.

He'll talk dirty to you, especially when you suck him off, telling you that you're such a good girl, doing such a good job, he's so proud of you, etc. Again, the man's daddy af.

Biting and licking are all fine and good, but he loves kisses- sloppy kisses on the mouth, that thing you do where you kiss his lips and then kiss his cheek immediately after, sweet kisses on his biceps and pecs, you get the idea.

Enjoys tying you up, usually binding your hands with his belt. Also keeps a coil of rope in his bedroom if he wants to get creative with it. He especially likes binding your hands and then fucking you against the wall so you're depending completely on him to hold you up.

Favorite position (by a long shot) is a mating press. He wants you folded up underneath him, unable to move and completely at his mercy. He’s a deep stroke kind of guy, too.

That being said, he really enjoys it when you ride him slowly. He wants to sit back against the headboard with his massive hands on your waist, watching you roll your hips against his and struggling to take his full length. When you're in this position, he'll smoke a cigarette, sometimes shotgunning the smoke into your open mouth.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #benn beckman #benn x reader #beckman x reader #beckman #shanks #red haired shanks #red force #red hair pirates #beckman headcanons #benn beckman headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #beckman smut #benn beckman smut #one piece smut

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weebsinstash · 8 months

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losing my mind over the idea of Lucifer being swerved every time by an oblivious reader. He “casually” drops how he used to pull wives at the drop of a hat and reader just goes “that’s great Lucy ☺️” and wanders off while bro is going through the stages of grief

I just love the idea of like, a Reader who GENUINELY IS oblivious and isn't trying to troll him by any means, you ARE just completely unable to fathom this man is coming on to you or legitimately means the things he says.

You're sitting there after Husker made you a tequila for the first time and you're sipping on it and Lucifer's just plopping down in the next stool over, "there was once a time in the past I shared a tequila with a woman, and, well, let's just say 9 months later my daughter Charlie was born!" and you reply without any hesitation at all, "yeah! you know, this is my first time trying tequila but I think it's really nice, although everything Husker makes me is pretty tasty so I've been trying lots of new stuff recently! like the other night I had my first shot of absinthe with Alastor and the taste was so--" and Husker is FACEPALMING and Lucifer is... honestly I think it would be really cute if he ADORES when you show your interests and passions when you start ranting about stuff, so he's like, even when he's mentally gritting his teeth with frustration, he'll be sitting there watching you doe eyed for as long as you want to talk, entertaining any of your long winded tangents or rapidly changing conversational topics

Ugh... you don't understand... the allure of being a tiny fragile human and he's. Well also tiny but he's this ancient inhuman creature who's also just A Silly Loving Family Man. Like. He's ALL POWERFUL. He can pull you into a singing dancing musical where he can make whatever he wants appear, he CAN basically warp materials and reality however he pleases, like... just...he's the small full package who probably HAS a full package if you know what I mean 😏 don't even look at me but characters like him n deku got me thinking about being fawned over by cute guys who are shorter than you but can absolutely easily overpower you without breaking a sweat and are more hung than nature should really allow

Seduction can be a fine line between sexy and cringey and can you imagine he says something to you that just, it just does NOT land. He's got you on your back in your bed and he's above you, with his hand directly under your chin, and he purrs that he wants to plant his seed directly in the fertile soil of your garden and you just LAUGH IN HIS FACE, like "BITCH WHAT?!" Like you CRUSH HIM, FATALITY, man is suffering psychic and emotional damage, you are chipping away at his health bar as you sit there "Haha, you're so goofy Mr Morningstar 🤣 you always know how to make me laugh" and he's HUFFING and laughing in frustration, "OKAY, let's try this again! When I'm done with you, Charlie might have a new sibling on the way!"

"Awww thank you! Charlie's already like a sister to me but I'm glad you're seeing it literally 🥰"

Can you imagine it. The ultimate cockblock. Giving him the ultimate swerve, hitting him with the ultimate grand slam, "YOU'RE LIKE THE FATHER I NEVER HAD" like, how can he possibly stick his dick in you now he knows you see him as YOUR DAD 🥺❤️ He can't VIOLATE his BABY (or can he 😳🤔)

Can't stop thinking about Reader who is completely unaware that this man is unhinged levels of Down Bad until the very moment he's wrestling you down to either fuck you or have a full on love confession. You're just goofing around and palling around and occasionally giving him hugs where you smush your titties or whatever in his face because he's the perfect height and you love to tease him and, then, to YOU, he's 'suddenly without warning' trying to kiss you, say all these passionate things to you, putting his hands in places they've never been before--

I'm still hung up on... the idea of Lucifer impregnating the Reader and you have your little you know cute apple womb tattoo and. I just know he'd be fussing and cooing and like ANNOYING levels of lovey dovey, baby talking your belly before you're even showing. He'd wanna get married with a big fancy flashy wedding to show you off. He'd wanna announce to all of Hell he has a new spouse and want everyone to fear/worship/respect/adore you. He's making this baby SO MANY GIFTS with his own two hands, you have no idea. Duck themed cribs, duck themed onesies, duck themed ducks, he'll make it all! In fact he'll make too many! But, still not enough to satisfy him! Everything has to be perfect, for you, for the baby, for his growing lovely family!

I dunno. Don't expect me to be normal about the fact the man can shapeshift either... he's about to slither right into my incognito tabs...

#yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #hh #sinprompts

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lamentofabramo · 5 months

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Can I get an NSFW alphabet for Tobias Rogers (ticci toby) 🫶

I've been doing a bigger piece, so I might as well do something smaller like this since it's been a good while since I've posted now. (oops)

I'm basing this less on the fandom vers of him, hopefully.

Didn't proofread this much. (edit: I feel bad that I didn't acknowledge the heart, so <3 of course you can doll)

MINORS DNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Toby obviously is one of the more caring of the creepypasta's, of course that's a low bar, but he is considerably more human than some of them. He's still gruff and fairly untalkative after the deed, yet he'd offer some water before leaving if you were just a one-off/ casual fuck.

If you were his partner however, I'd imagine he'd be more caring, still untalkative and unaffectionate, but maybe he'd hold you or hold your hand in this. Of course, he'd blame this on being unable to properly feel what he's holding, but the slow decrease in his twitches as he holds you speaks a lot more than he ever will. He's not comfortable, but he feels slightly less stress in your presence, at least until he has to leave, his mind penetrated by the voice of the foreboding presence of the ever-taller man.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) His own favourite body part would probably be his arms, he was a scrawny kid for most of his life, but you sure would start gaining muscle if you swung your axe at people who you considered worthy of it. There's probably also some scars across his arms that remind him of his life before. Of course, he'd hate that idea, but he still has some attachment to his sister, his mother, no matter how hard he may try to push it out of his head.

For his favourite part of his partners, I feel like it'd most likely be your waist. It's something for him to grab, to hold onto to remember you're real, that you're still alive against his better judgement.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) If you asked for it in a specific place, sure he'd do it if he was in a good mood. On your chest, ass, inside even. He'd risk it, he had nothing to truly lose anyway. But his favourite place would most likely be on your stomach, just the wet streaks across your stomach would do things for him. He's not sure why either, he wouldn't register that he does that almost every time unless you pointed it out to him.

If you did, he'd probably consider why for a second, his eyes widening in realization before shrugging. "Any better ideas?" he'd mumble, absently listening as he stroked himself. Toby would listen if you told him anywhere else, but… his eyes focused on that smooth surface.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He secretly wants to push the boundaries of his condition. He wants your hands around his neck, trying to choke him until it hurt. It was strange really, he had a high pain tolerance, yet he craved this pain. Maybe it was because he wanted to be normal, maybe not. He didn't want to think too hard on it, like many other things he just shrugged at the idea and continued with his life.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Toby was definitely not an experienced guy, even before the accident where he finally became 'free' (If you could say being slenderman's lackey was free) the most he'd done was hold hands with a girl in primary school.

He wouldn't be insecure with it however, he never viewed himself as a sexual being, the most he'd ever fucked was his fist on particularly rough nights. Sure, he'd had crushes on women, but when you become a serial killer you go one of two ways. A sex maniac or a complete recluse. Unfortunately, Toby became the latter.

However, since he had a less than regular childhood, he was never able to go through the same sexual awakenings as many of his peers. Instead, that most likely came later, so when he met you he was awkward, like a teenage boy. Most of his language is through grumbles and grunts anyway.

When he realized you were stuck in his head it all changed though, his sex drive increased massively. His poor hand.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) Cowgirl probably rocks his world, he loves that intense eye contact that comes with it. The way he looks up at you through his fringe, his mouth slightly open as he pants and grunts, is a reward in itself. However, he would get impatient, his hips thrusting up to meet yours or his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you down further on his cock.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) If something was funny to him, then he'd smirk, like if you hid your body from him even though he was about to be deep inside of you.

When he gets further into the activity, he'd let out breathless laughs, sometimes blaming that on his tics. He couldn't help it, though, he loved the way you responded to him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Toby probably doesn't care much about how groomed he is, sometimes he'll shave, but other than that he's got whatever going on.

He has a small happy-trail up to his belly button though, it shows when he raises his axe too high. It's a dark brown colour, just like his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect) He's probably not particularly intimate, maybe some words here or there if he feels like it, but don't overestimate him too much. He probably came inside you before he kissed you.

His cheeks pinken slightly whenever you suggest kissing, but he quickly slouches and looks away with an almost childish pout to pretend as though he doesn't care.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Like I said in the earlier one, sure he jacked off every now and again, but it was more so a way to pass the time, to get some serotonin in his ever-pleasant life. But when he gets fixated on something, or rather in your case, someone, his sex drive spikes. He wants you in his hands, in his vice, it frustrates him, so he takes this frustration out on himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) He's probably degrading, mixed with praise. He's basically up for anything. He's killed someone, I'm sure a weird kink won't kill him.

However, if he does think your kinks are unusual he will take the piss out of you for it, teasing, but he still takes part in it. Its fun.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do) Wherever you want, he's not arsed, really. Against a tree sounds the most fun.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) As cheesy as this sounds, you. Maybe some aggression on your side would get him going too, that mouth of yours was lethal sometimes.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Like I said before, he's practically up for anything. He might not be physically aggressive for you too much, though, it'd remind him of his past.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He's a munch, if he's in the mood enough, he could probably cum from giving you head. He'd deny that though, God that'd be embarrassing.

Not only that, but he'd receive too, no doubt, Toby would find it fun to just gently tug your head up and down on his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Toby would probably be slow but deep if he's teasing you. But if he's just fucking you, then it'd be fast, his hands pulling you down on his cock with faster speed.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Hell yeah brother. Just give him the words, he might tease you for it, but he'd never say no (unless he's in a more depressive mood).

He'd love to fuck you in the back of his car too, or masky's car. Just for the hell of it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.) He's a risky guy, but surprisingly, he wouldn't do anything that could get him potentially caught by the law. He's on the run for a reason, he's not willing to risk his freedom for a good fuck (sometimes).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?) He'd probably like to overstimulate slightly, 2/3 rounds before he's clocked out and completely dry. He'd last an average enough time, 20 minutes normally.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Seeing your body twitch with something that isn't him would make him jealous. However, a little vibrator never hurt anyone. He'd tease you if you had any dildos or anything, though, asking pettily if he "wasn't enough" or that you were "stretching yourself out" for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Big tease, but he always fulfils your wants. It may take a while, though.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) The only noise he really makes is grunting and whispers on how dirty you are. He's loud enough that you can hear him, but not loud enough for it to be a full-blown moan.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He does want to see how you'd look crying for him all bloodied up, most likely someone else's blood, but he's not picky. Maybe fucking you on top of a recently deceased.

But he'd never admit that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) An average to slightly bigger man, About 6.4 inches. Probably measured it one time when he was bored, and he hung onto the .4 for his ego.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Not too high unless you exist, then…as much as he can get his hands on you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He doesn't sleep much after it, doesn't feel comfortable sleeping in front of others, even someone like you. His nightmares don't help.

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #tobias erin rogers #tobias rogers #smut alphabet #x reader #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers

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lincolndjarin · 1 year

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty two : it's you that i lie with

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

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

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 11.3k

summary : in the wake of the mandalorians rash decisions he and the princess must await judgement day.

warnings, etc. : language, angst, mentions of alcohol, more smut then a person could ever possibly need, p in v sex, din "consent king" djarin, vaginal fingering, oral f!recieving, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, hate sex (hate not included,) sex as a means to distract your spouse from being angry with you, thigh fucking, clit stim, L bombs all over, edging, accidental exhibitionism, i probably missed a few tags sorry!!

a/n : hey lovelies it's my bed time now! this chapter is super long and i'm sleepy so pls lmk if there's any big mistakes cause the edit on this took over an hour so i might have missed something <3

Naboo has several trading ports.

You could get him on a cargo ship. That would be the most inconspicuous form of transport. It would help if he was willing to ditch his armor.

He’s too noticeable like this. He’ll need to stash it somewhere and wear clothes that will help him blend into crowds.

And you can’t go with him.

You know that.

You won’t be able to keep up. You’d only slow him down, and of course, the target on his back increases tenfold if he has you with him.

So he’ll have to go alone.

He has plenty of credits but you can give him some of your jewelry to pawn for extra, just in case.

Is Kodo smart enough to realize that this was an act of possession and not treason? If he is then your personal security will be increased to the point that Din shouldn’t come back for you.

Fuck.

Okay. That’s fine. You can live with that.

As long as he’s safe.

He sounds mad.

You aren’t looking at him currently. Just staring at Kodo. limp on the ground, blood pooling from his nose onto the stones.

You aren’t even saying anything why does it sound like he’s arguing with you? You finally turn around to look at him and Elaine is standing next to him, a hardened look on her face.

You can’t focus on a word they’re saying. The ringing in your ears refuses to let up.

They just keep arguing.

It sounds like he’s trying to reason with her, desperately.

You can’t focus on them because you’re too worried. Every part of you is worried.

Kodo won’t just kill him for this. He’ll make an example out of him. Especially if he realizes Din’s motive. Just as you start to imagine all the different things they could do to him Elaine wraps her arms around your shoulders.

“My lady, I know you’re in a bit of shock right now but we need to act and we need to act fast.” Her voice is urgent but it’s clear she’s still trying to be gentle. She turns around to glare at Din. “Go rinse the blood off your gloves, now.”

He silently makes his way to the fresher as Elaine pulls you away from your unconscious husband, letting you lean against the wall.

“We need to get him off planet.” You whisper, finally meeting Elaine’s gaze.

“I know, princess, I already tried. But he won’t go.” That manages to completely snap you out of your haze.

“What?”

“I told him he needed to leave. He won’t. Not without you, and we both know how unwise that would be.” She straightens your dress a bit, almost as if out of habit as you gawk at her.

“Elaine, he has to go.” You’re still whispering. Unable to make yourself speak louder.

Her eyes are full of pity.

“I know he does, my lady, but he won’t. And we don’t have time to convince him otherwise.” She’s right. If he’s already set in his decision there’s no changing his mind and you need to act fast. “We have a different plan, princess. We don’t have a lot of options now so I need you to pull it together, okay?” She gives your shoulders a gentle squeeze as the Mandalorian returns. Gloves washed and dried.

Clean.

“You have to go.” You immediately step in front of him, as if by some act of the gods you can get him to see reason but all he does is shake his head no.

“We don’t have time to argue about this. I’m staying. What do I need to do?” He stares at Elaine who’s scowling at him as she takes a step back, sighing.

“You need to stay out of my way while I figure this out. You’ve caused enough problems.” She looks beyond angry with him.

For good reason.

This has to be the stupidest thing he’s ever done.

“Obviously, the safest bet would be for your Mandalorian to get as far away from here as possible.” She shoots him another glare. “Since he won’t, we need to go with the next safest bet. Which is going to rely on a whole lot of luck.”

Considering the fact that his life is on the line, you don’t love the idea of relying on chance.

“Kodo’s been on a bender since you didn’t show up for dinner, he hasn’t been sober in days, so we need to hope- to pray, that he doesn’t remember this.”

But what if he does?

“We all know what’s going to happen if he does.” She immediately answers your worried thoughts but it doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest. “We just need to make up a story.”

Elaine seems to be trying to piece her plan together as she paces the hall, Din takes the opportunity to check on you, finally. His hands cup your face.

“Are you okay?” He sounds like he knows the answer.

No. You aren’t okay.

You aren’t okay with what almost just happened and you aren’t okay with what happened instead.

But everything is bad right now.

Very bad.

And you can’t break down. So instead you hug him. Briefly. Like you aren’t absolutely furious with him.

“I’m okay.” And for now you’re both okay with it being a lie. Your moment of comfort in his arms is short as Elaine pulls you away.

“I need you to tell me exactly what happened.” She’s stern with you. Like an adult talking to a child, normally you’d be offended but someone needed to take charge of the situation and you’re just glad it isn’t you.

“We were on a walk, D- Mando and I. When we came back to my room Kodo was waiting for me.” She nods slowly as you speak, urging you to carry on. “He started rambling and then he grabbed my dress and then Mando…” You don’t need to finish your sentence, it’s clear what happened next.

“Okay. I can work with that.” She says mostly to herself before looking you in the eyes once more. “I need you to do exactly as I say, can you do that?” You nod and she turns to Din, frowning before he nods as well. “Okay, here’s the thing princess, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re important.”

Your confusion is certainly apparent on your face.

“The people in the city adore you. It’s the first time the citizens have so much as tolerated a Naboo royal in decades. And it’s not just the people that love you, it’s the staff here.” She takes your hands in hers, a comforting gesture as she continues to nod at you as if it helps convey her words better.

“How can the staff love me? I don’t even know the staff?” You wonder out loud as she gives your hands a squeeze.

“Exactly, my lady, you have an endless supply of servants at your disposal and yet you remain independent. You only ask for help when you need it, you’re kind and you’re respectful. But most importantly, you look at us, you don’t stare right through us like we aren’t even here, you see us.” You’d never thought of it that way, you just didn’t want to bother anyone if you didn’t have to, you always just did what felt natural.

“That’s very kind of you to say, but I don’t see how that helps us.” You tilt your head to the side as you try to decipher her words.

“We are going to rely on that adoration, princess. What I am going to do is what the servants in this castle do best, I am going to gossip.”

“What exactly are you going to tell them?”

“The truth.” She grins at you like some sort of mastermind but you’re getting more and more concerned.

“You can’t, he’ll be tried for treason.” You glance towards Din who remains unmoving behind Elaine.

“Except he won’t because we’re going to leave out certain details when we recount tonight's events. I am going to tell them that we were on a walk, and when you returned Kodo tried to hurt you, in his drunken state he fell, and broke his nose on the floor.”

It’s ridiculous.

But she might just be a genius. It’s all true. You won’t have to remember any false details.

“I still don’t understand why you have to spread the story around though, why don’t we just tell the guards that’s what happened?” Din finally speaks up.

“Because once people know, Kodo won’t be able to avoid it. He’ll realize people know, especially when people in the city get restless. At your next dinner with him, which you will be attending, you remind him of the fact that he can’t hurt you unless he wants a full on uprising in the streets.” She claps her hands together like it’s the perfect plan but there’s so many ways this could go wrong. “You don’t have to worry about your Mandalorian and you guarantee yourself future protection from your husband.”

She’s staring at you, waiting for a response but honestly you don’t even know where to start.

“I will go get guards, we’ll tell them the abridged version of what happened, once that’s done I’ll get to work on spreading the word.”

“And then?” You stare at Elaine. Eyes wide with concern, you can’t seem to stop whispering, like you’ve lost your voice.

“And then, we pray. We pray that when he wakes, he doesn’t remember what really happened. Because that’s the only way this works.” She’s looking around the hallway anxiously now. “We don’t have any time to argue on this.” She gives you one last glance and after a moment of thought you nod. She’s right, you don’t have time to come up with a better plan. She doesn’t waste another second and rushes off to alert a guard.

Leaving you standing alone with Din.

You want to scream at him. Shove him. Something. For doing this, how could he be so stupid?

But you can’t.

Because if he hadn’t, Maker only knows what you’d be doing right now.

So instead, you just stare at your shoes. Refusing to look at him. He knows exactly how you feel about his choices these last couple of minutes so he makes the smart choice to not push you.

It isn’t long before Elaine is returning with half a dozen guards.

You let Elaine do all the talking. Explaining that she took you on a walk when you couldn’t sleep. She’s a good actress.

You play your part well as well, you don’t even have to act, you really are shaken up as you lean against the wall. Nodding to corroborate Elaine’s story.

Din stands defensively next to you the entire time. As if the guards might find a hole in your story and seize you.

But that never happens.

The guards all give you sympathetic looks.

They all know Kodo. They know that this story is more than believable. A couple of the men carry him off towards the infirmary. Only one guard stays, you assume she’s of a higher station based on her medals, and her uniform being a different color.

“Would it help your nerves if we increased your security, princess? On behalf of the royal family we apologize for this freak accident.” Her voice is low, professional.

Freak accident.

She’s already doing damage control.

Word can’t get out that the future king of Naboo frightened his beloved wife like this, this needs to be presented as something that couldn’t possibly happen, even though they all believed it was possible, without question.

“No thank you, I have my Mandalorian.” You’re still whispering. Unable to find the strength to speak up. “I will just have him stay close.”

She raises an eyebrow

“Are you sure?” She hesitates for a moment. “It isn’t my place to question you, your highness, but he was unable to stop this attack, how will he prevent further accidents?”

Sure, you’re mad at Din but something about the way this woman questions his abilities to protect you makes you furious. At the end of the day, Kodo really had tried to hurt you, and Din had stopped it.

“You’re right.” You find your voice, finally speaking above a whisper. “It isn’t your place.” You stare at the woman until she finally bows.

“My apologies, your highness. I’m just stating a fact, you clearly weren’t protected enough. Extra guards may help.” She mumbles.

You don’t care for this woman’s tone.

“What exactly was he supposed to do? Attack the future monarch? Commit an act of treason?” There’s a lot of anger in your tone considering that’s exactly what happened.

But you’re mad at Din, and you can’t yell at him right now so you might as well direct it somewhere in defense of him.

“No extra guards.” You say one more time, just to be clear. “Afterall, this was a freak accident, it isn’t likely to happen again.”

She nods one last time before making a hasty exit, leaving you alone with Din and Elaine.

When you turn to face them they’re both staring at you, looking a little surprised, you decide to break the silence, looking at Elaine.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.”

“How long?”

“We’ll know if he remembers in four days.” She crosses her arms and you look between her and Din for answers but he seems as confused as you are. “You have dinner with him in four days. Which I cannot stress enough, you will be attending. If you aren’t swarmed by guards in the next few days, you know you’re in the clear.” She finally says once it’s clear you aren’t getting it. “Until then I want both of you to stay here.” She opens up the door to your chambers.

“For four straight days?” You try not to sound too irritated but you’re wildly angry with him right now and the idea of being stuck in your room for four uninterrupted days (an idea that you would usually kill for the opportunity to have.) makes your stomach churn.

“For four straight days.” She’s already pushing the two of you in. Clearly eager to be rid of this entire situation. “No if’s, ands, or buts. You need to stay here, “healing” from the stress of tonight's events. I will have servants bring you your meals, Lysa and I will not disturb your rest but you can ring us if you require anything.”

Din is staring at Elaine, you can see the tension in his posture. He knows that you’re livid. And he knows that now that everything’s settled you couldn’t be more unhappy with him.

The last thing he wants right now is to be trapped in a room with you and your wrath.

Elaine clocks his hesitancy immediately.

“You need to stay, you insisted on staying, she needs someone with her, and she needs protection. Just in case. Isn't that the whole reason you refused to leave in the first place?” She begins shutting the door, both of you starting to protest. “Four days, we will know if he knows in four days.” She whisper-yells before closing the door.

Now it’s just you and Din.

For four days.

You want to fight. You want to scream at him now that you’re alone. How could he be so stupid? To not only hit Kodo, but to refuse to leave?

But you’re so tired. And afraid. You can be angry at him later.

Unless there isn’t a later.

No.

No thinking like that.

Distract yourself.

“Let me see your hand.” You take his hand in yours with no resistance, removing his glove to inspect his knuckle. He knows better than to argue with you right now, especially since you haven’t blown up on him yet.

He’s split two of his knuckles but he isn't actively bleeding anymore, you still need to clean it. You walk him to the bed, ushering him to sit down. Once he does, you go to the dresser, you grab a couple nightgowns, and the pitcher of water on the vanity before returning to him.

He makes no attempt to protest as you dip one of the gowns into the pitcher before wiping the blood from his knuckles.

He doesn’t protest when you tear the other gown with your teeth and wrap his hand. Or when you turn around, silently asking him to undo your dress, which he does as you slip out of it, standing there in your undergarments.

He doesn’t fight you when you take his uninjured hand and walk him to the closet.

He doesn’t when you carefully remove each piece of armor. Turning the lamp off and removing his helmet.

Or when you say “We’ll talk in the morning.” and rest your head on his chest.

“What if tonight is our last night?” He whispers into the darkness of the closet.

You don’t want to think about that right now.

You’ll have tomorrow.

Hopefully.

“It isn’t.” Is all you have to say. He still doesn’t argue.

You fall asleep like that.

★

Day one isn’t going to be easy.

You both know it.

It’s fine as you both wake up, mostly because neither one of you speaks.

He knows what’s coming. You can tell by the way his shoulders never relax, that he knows at some point today you’re going to snap. So he doesn’t speak, not wanting to accidentally cause your inevitable explosion.

And you don’t speak either, mostly because you know that when you do you’re going to get rather upset. So you just lay there. Every so often you feel him place a kiss on your temple.

You wait as long as possible, until you hear a faint knocking from the main door and you know it's either Kodo, here to sentence your Mandalorian to death, or it’s breakfast.

Thankfully when you answer the door it’s breakfast.

An older woman you don’t recognize hands you two plates of eggs, bread, and fruit. You give her a smile and a thanks.

She gives you a curious look, like she’s trying to gauge your mood. Elaine must have already started spreading her rumors. You leave her with a nod of dismissal, locking the door once more.

You carefully bring the plates to the closet, handing one to Din, still not saying a word as you turn to face away from him, flipping the light switch back on.

The two of you eat in silence.

Once the helmet is back on you take the plates out to the main room, opening the door to leave them in the hall.

When you turn around he’s standing in the closet doorway and you know you can’t put this off any longer.

“You can still leave.” When the words finally leave your lips they’re significantly less angry than you thought they’d be.

“You know I can’t.” Once he says that though you manage to find your anger relatively fast.

“You can and you know it.”

He doesn’t respond. He just stands, staring at you.

“You have to go. It’s stupid to stay, if he remembers when he wakes up you need to be gone.”

“And if he doesn’t remember? Then you’d be here, unprotected, and alone.” There’s no heat behind his voice. He isn’t fighting, he’s just stating a fact.

It doesn’t change your mind.

“That doesn’t matter, no when there’s a chance that he does remember.” You take an angry step towards him but he doesn’t so much as flinch.

“No.” Clearly you aren’t changing his mind either.

You want to throw something at him.

“You can’t stay here. You know what happens if you stay here. You need to leave, you can always come back for me.” You leave out the fact that that would be extremely difficult to do. “You need to go, hop on a ship and get out of here.” You’re getting angrier and angrier as you stare into the unforgiving steel of his helmet.

“I’m not leaving you.” There’s still no fight, he’s simply stating the truth.

“You are, you will. You need to. I will not just sit here and wait for you to be taken and slaughtered.” Your voice cracks on the last word, you’re starting to get to the level of anger where you’re at risk of crying, you’re desperately trying to keep yourself in control of your emotions as he holds his arms open for you.

It doesn’t matter if you’re in a rage, you can’t help yourself.

You step into his embrace, still visibly fuming.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, lifting you up, his hands rest on your ass to support you and you have to wrap your legs around his waist to keep your balance, he walks you into the closet.

“But you’re not, Din, and that’s the problem.” You aren’t done, you’ve barely gotten started but he seems to have found a rather effective way of dissolving your anger as he kicks the closet door shut with his foot.

“I’m sorry that I’m not sorry then.” He sets you down into the blankets and wastes no time flicking the lamp off. You don’t even hear the airlock, his mouth is just immediately on you, silencing any further protest you might have with his lips. “Just let me know when you want to stop so we can start fighting again.” He whispers against your bottom lip before his mouth quickly moves downward, leaving a trail of bites and kisses, his finger unbuttoning the front of your nightie as he does so.

“This- this isn’t fair, I’ve barely started.” You gasp as his mouth latches onto your nipple, he pulls away just long enough to respond.

“Then tell me to stop.”

You don’t.

Afterall you’re only human, and he’s being very persuasive right now.

You’ll yell at him after.

Except there isn’t an after.

He’s dangerously attentive for the next several hours.

It’s like he’s been waiting to unleash this level of his undivided attention onto you, like he knew to save it for when you got truly angry with him.

His fingers dip past the band of your underwear, dipping into your cunt just enough to make his fingertips slick as he drags them back up to your clit. Rubbing slow, methodic shapes into your bundle of nerves.

He keeps his mouth on your chest for the most part.

Except for when you get restless. Every so often you’ll remember your objective. Or you’ll feel a flicker of your rage spark up and you’ll mumble something angry at him halfheartedly, usually with your head tilted back, and your hands tangled in either the sheets or his hair. When that happens his mouth drifts down, he throws your legs over his shoulders and he wraps his lips around your clit until you forget all about whatever it was you were saying.

He manages to keep you distracted until there’s another knock at the door that tells you it’s already lunch time.

You struggle to button yourself back up as he fumbles for the lamp.

You glare at him once the lights, and his helmet are back on.

He quickly buttons your gown back up for you. He never even took his armor off.

You rush to the door, greeting a woman younger than the one from before. Her eyes immediately dart to your expression.

Elaine was right, gossip does move fast here.

It’s a good thing you still look pissed off, and upset mostly with yourself for being so easily seduced. You can tell she takes note of your frown.

She hands you two wrapped sandwiches and a pitcher of juice before scurrying off. You yell a half hearted thank you after her before locking up once more.

When you return to Din you’re still frowning, tossing him the sandwich, turning around, and eating in silence. When you’re finished he takes your wrapper and stands, walking into the main room to discard them.

When you join him he hands you a glass of juice. Nodding, you take it from him, gulping most of it down before setting the glass aside.

“You know what?” It isn’t hard to find that fire in you immediately when you think about how truly stupid he’s still being right now.

“What?” You close your eyes as he lifts his helmet to drink, opening them when you hear the airlock, poking a finger into his chest.

“You should have left when Elaine told you to, and we shouldn’t even be having this argument because you should be somewhere far far away right now.”

“This isn’t really an argument, it’s mostly just you yelling and me nodding.”

Smartass.

“You just made this an argument by contradicting me.” You’re starting to sound petulant but you really are still upset as you shove him, unable to bring yourself to put much effort into it but he takes a deliberate step back and you cry out in frustration. “You’re an idiot. You are a stupid, stupid man.”

It’s starting to bother you that he won’t fight back. Like he knows you’re right, he just doesn’t care.

You shove him again. This time he doesn’t move in the slightest.

“You never should have hit him in the first place Din! Are you insane? Do you have a death wish?” You’re nearly screaming at this point.

Yet he says nothing.

So you keep going.

“You say that you have to stay here to protect me, but why didn’t you think about that before you knocked my husband flat on his ass?” That finally gets a reaction from him. His helmet tilts the tiniest bit to the side, almost like he’s flexing his jaw.

“Don’t call him that.” He sounds mad for the first time today..

“What? My husband? I’m sorry Din but that’s what he is, it’s nothing more than a title, you know th-“

“No. Don’t call him yours. He isn’t yours, he isn’t your anything, For Makers sake just call him Kodo.” He’s practically snarling as he says it but it only feeds your flames.

“That’s what you’re upset about? Really? Your life's on the line here, and that’s what makes you upset?” You’re close enough to him now that you can see your own rage being reflected back at you on his helmet.

“If you're so convinced that these are my last hours alive then why are we spending them fighting?” He’s already getting less angry.

“Because they don’t have to be your last hours!” You’re getting more frustrated by the second, your voice getting higher and higher. “You could leave like anyone with a brain in this situation would.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

That’s all he has to say for himself.

He doesn’t care.

“Fine.” Your scowl never falters.

“Fine?” He sounds shocked that you’re already giving up.

“Fine.” You shoot him a furious look before you grab the front of his cowl and drag him back into the closet, slamming the door shut behind the both of you because you are sick and tired of him not caring that his life is in extreme danger and if he’s not going to argue with you then he might as well fuck you.

“Why can’t you just be angry?” You yell as you start unbuttoning your nightgown all over again while he begins removing his armor.

“Because you’re right.” He mumbles, struggling to keep up with your speed as you let the nightie fall to the floor, leaving you in only your panties.

“You’re insufferable.” You snarl, laying down in the blankets, watching him toss his cowl aside.

“And you’re insatiable.” He slides the last of his armor off before kneeling in front of you in just his flight suit and helmet. “How many times did I make you cum today before noon? And you still want more.” He doesn’t even sound like he’s trying to get a rise out of you, he sounds like he did when he said he was going to stay, like he was just stating a fact.

“I don’t want to look at you right now. I’m still mad at you.” You grumble, he wastes no time wrapping his arms around your torso, flipping you onto your stomach.

“This better?” He sounds unbothered. It makes you angrier that he refuses to justify his actions beyond simply wanting to stay.

“Perfect.” You mumble.

“You’re being a brat.”

“And you’re being an idiot.”

“I thought we weren’t going to fight, why did you bring us in here to just fight more?” He tugs down your panties with one hand, you turn to see him palming himself with the other.

“Let’s just- let's not talk.” You grumble sitting up on your knees, his hand slides up your spine to the nape of your neck, pushing your face into a pillow while simultaneously forcing your ass into the air.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You hear the release of his helmet and a thunk of metal as he tosses it aside.

He doesn’t bother turning the lamp off.

You hear the familiar sound of his zipper, he doesn’t waste any time as you feel the head of his cock push into you. You bite into the pillow swallowing your moan.

Are you still mad?

Yes. Very much so.

Is this better than fighting?

Yes. (Very much so.)

He leans down, groaning as his chest is flush with your back, his length sinking deeper into your heat.

“Reach back and push me away if you want me to stop.” He brushes your hair behind your ear as he says it, you only nod in response as he leans back again, rocking his hips forward until his pelvis is flush with your ass.

He’s never fucked you from this angle.

Your slightly lower than he is, it’s like he’s fucking down into you, deeper than he has previously.

He takes a second to let you breath before he snaps his hips back, dragging his cock nearly completely out of you before slamming himself back in entirely.

You yelp as he presses up against your cervix.

He waits again, like he’s waiting to see if you’re okay but you make no effort to stop him so after another second he repeats the motion, letting out a low groan as he does.

He squeezes your hips almost reassuringly as he starts to find his rhythm. Feeling him sink into you, every thrust almost painfully deep.

It’s nice.

Of course you won’t tell him that, not now when you’re still seething.

But it’s like he’s doing it on purpose. Like he’s trying to prove a point. That no matter how mad you are, he can still unravel you, with ease.

His hands slide up your back, he takes hold of your shoulders, experimentally using his grip to leverage you back against him in time with his thrusts.

It’s (tragically) divine.

You pull your face from the pillow, turning your head to the side.

“When- kriff, when you’re done we’re finishing our, ah, our conversation.” You manage to stutter out, his pace never so much as skipping a beat.

“I thought… we were… done… with that.” He says through grit teeth in between thrusts, pulling you back against him with every movement forcing himself deeper into you than you even thought possible.

“We aren’t.”

He only grunts in acknowledgement as you feel him lean down to place a kiss against your spine.

You shouldn’t have told him that once he finished you were going to fight again because he doesn't stop until they knock for dinner.

The bastard actually manages to last the entire time, everytime you think he’s finally going to lose his resolve he buries himself in you, unmoving, letting his hands roam your body aimlessly until he’s able to continue. When he hears the knocking his pace quickens the tiniest bit and that’s all he needs to tumble over the edge. Pulling out and finishing on your lower back.

You’d be more upset if you weren’t so impressed.

You make yourself as presentable as possible before rushing to the door for what is hopefully the last time today.

It’s the same routine.

Greet them, they stare at you, you take the food, they leave.

Once you’re locked up for the night you hand him his bowl of stew.

It continues to be the same routine. Eating in silence as he waits for the inevitable.

Except it doesn’t come.

You finish eating, turning around once he’s done as well. He takes the bowls, setting them aside.

And you open your mouth to yell at him. But all that comes out is a yawn, once he sees that he scoops you up into his arms, already carrying you back to the closet. You let your head rest on his shoulder.

“I’m still mad.” You mumble.

“You should be.” He says it so quietly the modulator doesn’t even pick it up, you hear the words muffled and unfiltered through his helmet.

You don’t like that he’s seemingly mad at himself. He doesn’t get to do that, no one gets to be mad at him right now but you.

He lays you down in the sheets, kneeling next to you he removes his helmet as you close your eyes he turns the lights out, laying down beside you.

“No more sex. I’m too tired.” All you’ve done today is yell, have sex and eat, the combination has you dozing off already. You roll over so you’re partially on top of him as you rest the side of your face on his chest which you feel shake a bit as he lets out a single laugh.

“Okay, sarad.”

How did you lose an entire day to him? You had wanted to scream and throw things. To show him and to tell him that what he was doing wasn’t okay. Instead he’d spent the entire day distracting you and it worked.

You take in the silence of the room, listening only to his breathing for a moment.

He’s okay. You suppose that’s what matters. He’s still here, and maybe for right now that’s okay. You clearly aren’t going to get anywhere as far as yelling at him goes because he agrees with you. He just doesn’t care. And for the time being you’re just going to have to live with that.

“I don’t want you to go to sleep angry.” He says into the darkness of the room, startling you a little.

“Why does that matter?” You wish you could sound more stern but you’re tired, and clearly he is too.

“If this is our last night I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

Oh, Din.

“It isn’t. So it doesn’t matter.” You try to say it with a finality that will hopefully end the conversation.

“It might be.”

“Good night Din.”

★

The start of your second day is considerably different than your first day.

You feel a little less stressed now that a day has passed with no word but he seems to be getting more nervous. And you feel less cross today. It’s hard to stay angry when you wake up in his arms. He’s spooning you when you wake, and how can you be mad at that?

“I love you, I’m sorry, I just- I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.” He murmurs into your hair before leaning down to kiss your neck. It takes you by surprise, you're still waking up but he already seems shockingly coherent.

He says it like he’s worried it’s the last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

It makes your anger fizzle out, replaced with sympathy for him.

“Then I’m not mad anymore.” He breathes out a sigh of relief when you say it, his arms tighten around you.

If this really is your last day with him you don’t want to spend it mad.

You wish you hadn’t spent yesterday mad at him in hindsight, you have no way of knowing if this is the end or not.

“I love you.” He whispers into the crook of your neck, he kisses your throat. “I love you.” He keeps breathing those words against your skin between kisses as you arch your back against him in an attempt to get more.

You don’t say it back.

Your love for each other is what got you into this stupid mess to begin with.

That doesn’t stop him though.

He repeats it, over and over and over, slowly and sleepily. Like a prayer.

“Let’s just do this today, okay? No fighting.” He’s got one hand resting on your stomach, the other gently cups your breast. He shifts himself so he can slide his leg between yours.

Can’t argue with that.

“We did this yesterday.” You breathe out, it feels good to smile.

“Yes, but you were angry, today there will be no fighting.” He bites your neck lightly enough that there won’t be a mark but hard enough to earn a small squeak from you.

“No fighting.” You echo his words as he pulls you flush against him.

When it’s dark like this it feels like he’s the only thing in the universe. The only thing keeping you grounded.

The hand on your stomach moves downwards and you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Please?” he mumbles before nipping at your shoulder.

“Of course.” The moment he has your permission he guides his hand to your center, lifting your thigh and sliding his cock up against your folds in one fluid motion. Once he’s situated he brings his hand up to your mouth, two fingers tapping on your bottom lip as you instinctually open your mouth for him he rocks his hips forwards with a grunt, you feel him sliding through your folds as his fingers swipe across your tongue.

He hums softly, his lips stay on your shoulder, alternating between sucking and biting as he slow fucks the space between your thighs.

Once he’s satisfied with the wetness of his fingers he withdrawals them from your mouth, bringing them back between your legs.

“I’m sorry, sarad, for everything.” He says under his breath.

“No more apologizing.” You lean back to whisper it in his ear.

“What?” He sounds a little lost in his actions.

“I know you’re sorry. I don’t want to hear it anymore. No more apologizing.”

“No more apologizing.” This time he echos you. He slowly and carefully starts rubbing his slick fingers against your clit while simultaneously sliding himself in and out of the space between your thighs. You experimentally squeeze your thighs together around his cock and he immediately bites down on your shoulder, stifling a moan.

It’s so wildly intimate, an unspoken agreement that you both suddenly have to try and make the other person feel as good as possible.

He ruts between your soaked thighs, when he draws back you press your thighs together slightly to tighten around him. His free hand cups your breast again, leisurely pinching your nipple as the one between your legs manages to do exactly what it needs to do.

He knows you so well at this point it’s actually a little jarring when he’s able to drive you towards that release so quickly.

“Cum with me?” He mumbles through his labored breaths as you nod frantically.

He keeps you on the edge for a few more minutes as he rocks his hips back and forth until both his thrusts and his fingers move faster, you let your head fall back against his shoulder as you feel the wire snap within you, he turns his face to press his forehead into your temple as he snarls, you feel the spurt of warmth between your thighs as he cums.

You both lay there briefly, gasping for air, just as you finally get your bearings you hear a knock.

“Shit.” You mumble, wiping yourself off on the sheets and readjusting your nightgown as you sit up.

You stumble to your feet, rushing to the door to get what you assume is breakfast, you’re surprised to see Elaine standing there holding a basket of bread, rushing into the room before you can even greet her.

“Good news and bad news.” She immediately hands you the basket and you set it down. Din steps out of the closet, already fully dressed, a sharp juxtaposition to how you must look, disheveled in your nightie you haven’t changed in several days.

“Good news first.” You say quickly.

“Good news is that word has spread as quickly as I anticipated. From what I can tell, the people in the city are already aware of what happened.”

“That fast?” You’re in disbelief at the idea that people already know.

“I told you it would.” She’s grinning ear to ear, clearly proud of herself.

“What’s the bad news?” Din Djarin, well known optimist, finally speaks up.

“Kodo’s awake as of an hour ago.” Her grin is gone in an instant.

As far as bad news goes, that's about as bad as it gets.

Neither you, nor Din speaks.

So Elaine does.

“I haven’t heard anything yet but if he remembered we wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“Or he’s waiting.” Still being optimistic, aren’t you, Din?

“He wouldn’t wait, he doesn’t have the patience.” You look to Elaine for confirmation and she nods, relief washes over you.

“Or he wants to make a spectacle out of it.” You’re getting sick of his attitude towards this already.

“No fighting today.” You snap at him and he immediately goes quiet so you turn back to Elaine. “Is that all?”

“Yes, I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.” She begins to make a hasty exit but you call her name again.

“Wait, could you please draw me a bath?” That seems like the logical next step considering you probably reek of sex at this point.

“Of course, my lady.” She closes the door behind her and you turn to Din.

“No fighting, we agreed.” You say one more time, to be sure he knows you’re serious about this.

He nods and you leave him standing there, going to the dresser to find a robe.

★

“I’ll be standing outside to make sure no one disturbs you, princess.” Elaine raises her eyebrows as she says it, closing the door behind you as you turn to stare at the Mandalorian across from you in the fresher.

If you and Din aren’t imprisoned in the next couple of days you’re going to make sure Elaine gets a pay raise.

You slip your robe off as Din slides a table in front of the door for extra security, and you step into the warmth of the water, staring up at him as he walks over to the pool.

“I had a dream like this once.” He says as he carefully takes his armor off.

That’s the last thing you could have imagined him saying right now. You chew on your lip, giddy as you fight the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Do you have a lot of dreams about me?” You hold back your laughter as he takes the last piece of metal that isn’t his helmet off. Fascinated as he starts to tug at his flight suit.

You’ve never actually seen him like this.

Sure you’ve seen his hands, and his cock, but never as much bare skin as he’s about to reveal. He peels the fabric away from his body as he steps out of it.

Maybe yesterday was your last day.

You aren’t totally convinced that you didn’t die yesterday and are currently in heaven.

He steps into water, only in his helmet and you try not to gawk but it’s hard because he’s just so… pretty.

You finally tear your eyes away when you see a tint of red flare up around his neck.

He’s embarrassed.

He shouldn’t be.

He’s an adonis.

Tan skin littered with little pink and white marks.

You want to kiss every single one.

He makes his way across the water, sitting on one of the ledges so everything below his chest is submerged. You try not to make your way over to him too eagerly but you can’t help yourself as you hastily pull yourself into his lap.

“Aren’t you worried about rust?” You tilt your head to the side, laughing a little.

“Beskar doesn’t rust but you’re very cute.” His hands squeeze your thighs under the water.

“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes and lean forward to rest your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t answer my question by the way, about your dreams.”

His hands slide under your thighs, dragging you closer to him.

“What do you want to know about my dreams?”

“I want you to tell me about your dream that reminded you of this.” You run your pinky across a small pink crescent shaped scar on his chest.

“That might take a while, why don’t I just show you.” You can practically hear his grin.

For a brief moment you’re almost able to forget the situation you’re currently in.

Almost.

★

“You knew I was out there, you could have at least tried to be quiet.” Elaine grumbles as you open the door.

Whoops.

“Sorry.” You both mutter in sync, your face is getting hot as you give her an apologetic grin.

She’s definitely getting a raise.

“I’ll get over it.” She walks you back to your chambers holding the door open for the both of you. “Someone will bring you lunch and dinner later, I’ll see you both soon.”

“Thank you.” You call out after her as she’s inching her way out of the room.

“You're welcome.” She shoots you one last smile before stepping out completely.

Once the door is closed behind you you rush over to it, clicking the locks before dropping the robe, when you turn around he’s already setting his armor aside.

You leave him to that briefly as you walk yourself to the closet, returning to him with a scarf, all of his armor aside from his helmet is already off, he’s currently unzipping his flight suit.

You do exactly what you said you would.

No fighting. No apologies.

He helps you tie the scarf around your eyes and from that point on it’s a hazy, lascivious daydream. You’d be understating it if you said he fucked you on every surface in your room. It’s a desperate love that he makes to you now, and you know better than anyone that it’s his fear creeping back up, that this time will be the last time.

Floor, bed, wall, table, dresser. If it is a flat surface, at some point during the day he presses you up against it, alternating between burying his tongue and his cock in your weeping cunt.

You’re so fucked out of your mind that when they knock for meals you just ignore it. Biting down on a pillow or his shoulder to silence the noises he forces out of you.

You don’t really remember when he brought you back to the closet. It’s been such a whirlwind.

You do remember him kissing you. And saying he loved you before you fell asleep.

You try to forget when he whispered a prayer that he would have more days with you.

★

And you make it to day three.

Every hour there isn’t a battalion of guards outside your door makes you relax more and more.

Din seems to be the exact opposite of you based on the first thing he says when you wake.

“I want you to look today.”

“At what?”

“You know what.”

Oh.

You sit up. Staring at where he would be in the darkness.

“I’m not doing that.”

“Why?”

“Because this isn’t our last day, and you need to stop acting like it is.”

If Kodo remembered he wouldn’t wait, he isn’t a patient man. You don’t want to spend today worrying, and you don’t want him to either.

So today you’ll talk. You’ll talk until he forgets all about it.

You lay back down, pulling his head into the crook of your neck.

“Tell me a secret.”

“What kind of secret?” He laughs a little. Good. You don’t want today to be sad.

“Something nobody knows about you.”

��I don’t have secrets from you. I tell you everything.”

That’s actually quite sweet.

“That’s just not true. You keep tons of secrets.” You scoff.

“Not anymore. If you asked me anything, I’d tell you.” He says it earnestly.

That can’t possibly be true.

“There’s plenty of stuff you don’t tell me.” You twist a lock of his hair gently between your fingers.

“You never ask.”

This entire time you’d been trying not to push him, he’d just assumed you didn’t care.

“Are you okay with me asking?” You never meant to make him feel neglected.

“I’d love if you asked.”

You don’t even know where to start. You want to know everything.

So you start at the beginning.

“Do you have any family?”

“I lost my mother and my father when I was very young.” He draws small distinct stars into your skin with his fingers as he talks. “I was taken in by the Mandalorians as a foundling.” He sounds detached as he says it, like he came to terms with it a long time ago, so you don’t linger on his tragedy, opting to point out a phrase you’re unfamiliar with instead.

“A foundling?”

“It means they raised me as their own, taught me the creed.”

You picture a little Din Djarin running around with a dozen adoptive parents.

“They all did?”

He laughs, giving your side a small pinch.

“No, typically the Mandalorian who finds an abandoned child will claim them but the Mandalorian who found me already had two foundlings.”

“That’s terrible, what did they do with you?” You feel yourself being pulled into his story, like he’s telling you a tale you don’t know the ending to. As if he isn’t here right now, a full fledged Mandalorian who things clearly worked out for.

“There was a Mandalorian at the covert who had never had a foundling. She made their armor for them so she didn’t leave as often as the rest. She took me in.”

“So she became your mother?”

“More like a big sister, she’s only a few years older than I am.”

“Did she make your armor?”

“She did, yes.”

You sit in silence briefly, taking in his story, something he said a while ago resurfaces in your mind.

You had asked him about his boy's mother.

“I don’t know, I don’t know who his father is either. Is that all you wanted to ask?”

You sit up a little, pulling him closer.

“Your boy is your foundling.” You don’t say it like a question, you’re sure of it.

“Was, my foundling.”

Your natural instinct is to not pry, but he wants you to ask, and you feel an anxious curiosity as he uses past tense to refer to his child.

“Din, you don’t have to talk about it, but if you’re okay with it I’d love to know more about him.”

He doesn’t respond and you’re glad you gave him the option to opt out.

“I haven’t talked about him since I lost him.” You lean down a little to kiss his forehead, he sounds so small, the smallest he’s ever sounded.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You feel him curl his legs up a bit, tangling them between yours as he sighs.

“Then I’ll listen.”

“His name’s Grogu.” You let out a silent sigh of relief as he uses present tense to refer to the boy.

“That’s a funny name.”

“He’s a funny kid.” There’s an adoration in his voice that he typically reserves just for you. It makes you long to meet this child that softens your Mandalorians demeanor. “He was only a baby when I found him, I knew right then and there that he was mine.”

“What’s he like?” You feel the corners of his mouth twitch up when you ask that.

“Happy. He’s always happy, and smart, he’s so smart, just like you, too smart for his own good.” He absentmindedly brings his fingers up to play with your hair. “He’s a lot like you actually. Happy, smart, brave, funny.” He tugs your hair softly, teasingly. “You both love to irritate me.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious, you're very similar, I’d say you could be his mother but you look nothing alike.” He laughs at a joke you don’t seem to get.

There’s one question you haven’t asked, the one you’ve been avoiding.

“What happened to him?”

“I let him go, to be with his people.” You have no idea what he means by that.

“Sounds to me like you’re his people.”

“I’m starting to believe that, the longer I spend away from him the more I wonder if I made the right choice.” He traces his fingers down the curve of your jaw.

“Why don’t you visit him?”

He goes silent, bringing his hand back down to your waist, you feel his fingers tapping against your skin softly, almost like a nervous tick.

“It’s a stupid reason.” He whispers.

You run your hand across the length of his shoulder in a soothing manner.

“Tell me.”

“I’m worried he’s happy there. Happier than he was with me.”

Oh. Din.

You wish there was a way to tell him that he’s worthy of love. He just doesn’t seem to believe it’s possible.

Well, there is one obvious way to.

“I don’t think that’ll happen. And if he is happy there it just means you did your job. You took care of him.” Once you say that you feel a weight lifted off of your torso as he sits up.

For a moment nothing happens.

In the darkness you aren’t even sure where he is, at least until his hands cradle your face ever so gently.

“You’re perfect.”

He’s perfect.

“I love you.” It slips past your lips in a soft whisper before you can stop yourself.

“Hmm?” He hums gently. Leaning forward to give you a chaste kiss before pulling back. “What did you say?”

“Very funny. I’m not saying it again.”

“I’m serious. I didn’t hear you.”

Strange.

He isn’t lying. You can tell.

And this isn’t the first time this has happened.

“You can’t hear well can you?” You reach up to put a hand on his face, you can feel his mouth turned up in a grin.

“Smart girl.” He turns his head to kiss your palm.

You won’t repeat yourself. You’ll save it for another time.

“How long?”

“Decades. One of my first bounties. I was listening in from a distance, had the audio on my helmet all the way up, I didn’t realize one of his friends was flanking me until the grenade landed at my feet.”

“Maker.” You gasp.

“It isn’t really a big deal, I can hear perfectly fine with my helmet and the only person I ever talk to without my helmet on is you.”

Fair point.

“Aren’t you worried it might happen again?”

“No, I have sensors now that will silence any sound that might be damaging. My turn to ask a question.” He stays sitting across from you, your legs still tangled together as he quickly changes the subject.. “I’ve been dying to ask, why do you sleep in the closet?”

There’s no hesitation in your answer.

“My room is too big.”

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh.

And that’s how you spend the third day.

Laughing and talking.

And when you go to sleep that night, he doesn’t bring up the fact that it could be your last night together.

But you know you’re both thinking it.

★

Today there is nothing.

You can’t comfort him anymore because last night very well could have been your last night together. If Kodo knows, you won’t spend tonight with Din.

You won’t ever spend another night with Din.

There’s no way he knows though. (Unless he does.)

You both seem to realize that, in the comfortable silence you find yourselves in. He’s awake as well but neither of you speaks.

Today you don’t fight, or fuck, or talk. Today you just exist together. He lays with his head on your chest and you absentmindedly play with his hair.

You both ignore the knocking.

If it's guards, they’ll come in anyways, if it’s breakfast, they’ll leave it outside the door. Based on the lack of guards over the course of the next few minutes, you discern that it’s breakfast. You do the same when they knock for lunch.

You don’t get up until his stomach grumbles. You rush out quickly before returning to find him in the same position in the darkness as you crawl to him, handing him his plate. You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to him eat and opening your mouth when he offers you some.

And you don’t speak.

You don’t say a word.

A few hours before dinner the girls come to dress you, you bring a blue dress out of the closet when they arrive.

You’re pretty sure Lysa is aware of the entire situation you find yourself in as she avoids the closet like the plague. Dressing you faster than ever before, in complete silence. When they’re done Lysa rushes out, Elaine lingering as she gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“You can do this. After tonight, you’re in the clear.” As she speaks you put your hand over hers, nodding and smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.

You can do this.

She gives your shoulder one last pat before darting out of the room. Once she’s gone, like clockwork, Din steps into the main room. He quickly makes his way over to you, pulling you into an embrace.

And still neither of you says so much as a word.

He walks next to you as you make your way to the dining room, letting the back of his hand brush against yours.

When you approach the doors, as usual the hall is devoid of guards, he faces you.

“I love you.”

You only nod in response, standing on your tiptoes you lean up and press a kiss into the steel cheek of his helmet before opening the doors to the dining hall.

He’s waiting for you. He doesn’t usually look when you walk in but tonight he does.

“Wife, I’m honored that you’re joining me tonight.” You never thought you’d miss the high pitched, nasally way he called out to you until you heard him speaking in a soft and grave tone.

“Good evening, husband.” You bow before you sit, your Mandalorian standing no more than a foot behind you the entire time.

It’s a deadly quiet dinner.

That can’t possibly be a good sign, Kodo loves the sound of his own voice and you’re rarely in a room with him where you don’t hear it. Especially not a room this quiet.

It’s nothing but the sounds of scraping forks against plates and glasses being set down.

You aren’t entirely sure what his plan is until they take dinner away and you’re left with nothing but your wine glass in front of you.

Kodo’s is full of water.

You flinch when he clears his throat before speaking.

“I was told something odd when I woke up after my accident.”

This is it.

You’re dead.

Din’s dead.

You should have just risked it and left with him days ago.

“People believe that I tried to hurt you, that I was injured when I drunkenly slipped.” His voice is full of a dangerous, malice as he traces the rim of his glass with his finger.

You should tell Din that you love him before they drag him away. He deserves to hear it.

Or would that make things worse for him?

Would they hurt him more if they knew?

Dank farrik, you should have repeated yourself when you said it. Now he might never know how you feel.

“I don’t know why anyone would possibly think that.” He tilts his glass to the side, watching the water shift back and forth. “Because that isn’t what happened, right, wife?”

Din was right.

At least you spent your last night happy. If you’re executed you’ll think of his laughter before you go.

“Right? Wife?” He says it much louder now, his fist comes down to meet the table and you jump a bit in your chair.

There’s no escape. Not if he remembers. There isn’t anything anymore. Just you and just Din.

There’s a lump in your throat as you give him a single small nod. Out of the corner of your eye you see Din take the smallest step towards you but he doesn’t do anything drastic as Kodo leans back in his chair.

“Good. Then you shall tell the common folk you visit what really happened, that a bored servant made that story up, it never happened and you are more than happy here.” He takes a sip of his water and you stare at him, baffled.

Maker.

He doesn’t remember.

He. Doesn’t. Remember.

He believes the story.

He just wants you to tell people it didn’t happen because it affects his image.

You’re so relieved you could cry, as you nod, holding back a smile.

“Of course.” Your voice cracks but you can’t find it in you to care. “Of course, dear husband, I will tell them that it was just a misunderstanding, that the entire story is a lie.” Your knee bounces under the table as you resist the urge to look at Din.

Kodo nods towards the door.

“Then it’s settled. You’re dismissed.”

That’s it?

Holy shit, that’s it.

You have to stop yourself from sprinting out the door as you bow before taking slow steps out.

In the hallway you glance at Din, staring into the visor with wide eyes before heading towards your chambers.

You don’t dare say a word on the walk back to your room, neither does he.

You did it.

You’re worried you're dreaming but you know for certain that you aren’t.

You actually fucking did it.

Din is fine, and he’s going to remain fine.

It feels too good to be true and you just want to pull him into a hug and squeal like a kid on christmas.

The walk feels like it takes ages as you make your way through the halls until finally you’re there. He opens the door for you as you step inside he shuts it behind you both. You turn towards him ready to just about scream with glee but he beats you to it, scooping you up into his arms and spinning you around.

When he sets you down he doesn’t even think about it as you feel the cool rush of air against your face, he lifts his helmet off nearly all the way with one hand, the other hand wraps around your waist he pulls you close, kissing your forehead before dragging his nose down your face like he’s using it to guide his way before pressing his lips to yours. You manage to shut your eyes before he pulls it off completely.

He laughs, leaning in to kiss you again.

“You’re the only person I’ve met who wouldn’t look, you know that right?” He mumbles into the kiss before pulling back.

“That’s why I can’t look,” You open your eyes as you hear the airlock once more. “You make exceptions for me and I don’t want you to regret it.”

“I won’t regret it.”

“You might. So we’ll wait.” You play with the band that goes across the chest as he holds you close with his arm around your waist.

“How long?” He sounds downright excited.

“When I know you won’t regret it.”

“How exactly are you going to measure that? I’ve already decided I’m ready.”

You know exactly when you’d be willing to look.

You would look if you were married to him.

But you won’t tell him that, solely because you don’t want him to want to marry you just so you’ll look, you want him to want it. And you haven’t even talked about marriage with him, besides your “jokes,” which definietly don’t count.

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

You just stare at each other, you’re grinning at him and you’re certain he’s grinning right back at you.

“We really did it. We’re okay.” You whisper as he nods.

“You did it, I caused it.”

“No more fighting. This is a happy night.”

“Fine, if tonight's happy night then I have a surprise for you.” He makes his way to the closet as he says it, disappearing for a second before returning with a pair of pants and a cotton tunic, handing them to you. “Put these on.”

“How could you possibly have a surprise, we’ve been in this room for days and up until a few minutes ago we didn’t know if you were going to be imprisoned for treason.” You take the clothes, turning around so he can unlace your gown, which he swiftly does.

“I planned this surprise ages ago, I was just saving it for a special occasion.” He pulls each ribbon free and you let the dress slide off of you, stepping into the pants.

“So what kind of surprise are we dealing with here?” You turn back towards him as you pull the shirt over your head.

“The kind I know you’re going to love.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because you’ve been waiting for it.”

He gets down on his knee in front of you, you inhale so sharply you nearly stumble backwards as he stares up at you.

This can’t be happening. There’s no way, you haven’t talked this over enough yet.

You should start considering the fact that he might be a genuine mind reader.

“Sarad’ika…” His helmet is tilted up at you, your heart is racing.

Yes.

You’re going to say yes.

You’re holding your breath, waiting for him to continue.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he reaches under your bed and pulls out a bundle of black fabric that you furrow your brows at. He stands and hands it to you, you hear him stifle a laugh.

“Why are you looking at me like that, sarad, I was just getting this for you.” You shove him as he says it, your face getting hot.

“You’re an idiot.” You grumble, unfolding the fabric you see it’s a half cloak, there’s a veil over the hood that will completely conceal your face.

“Oh, did you think I was going to- oh wow, princess.” He puts on an act of shock as you pull the cloak on, thankful that he can’t see the embarrassment on your face.

“That wasn't funny.”

“So you’re the only one allowed to make jokes?”

“If all your jokes are going to be like that then yes.”

In all honesty, you aren’t upset in the slightest.

Because he’s alive and unharmed and capable of making jokes.

You couldn’t possibly ask for more right now.

“I’m sorry, maybe the surprise will make you forgive me. And make sure you thank Elaine at some point for that, she made it for you.” He chuckles, pointing at the cloak. “Come on, let’s go, we’ll have to stop at the cabin before we head into the city.” He takes your hand.

You forget all about his little stunt when you hear that, and your face lights up with excitement as you realize there’s only one place he could possibly be taking you if you’re going into the city past sundown.

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

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

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oopsallfictives · 1 year

Text

I'm gonna take a stab at creating an alternate definition of the word delusion, since I'm not a fan of the one commonly used in a medical context. This is gonna deal with some unreality and paranoia-inducing stuff, so read at your own risk.

The definition most commonly used for delusion is a false belief that a person can't be persuaded isn't real or true, even if they're shown evidence to the contrary. This is a flawed definition for a number of reasons, chief among them that sometimes people are just wrong and stubborn about it. We know that it can be incredibly difficult for people to change their minds once they're personally invested in an idea, but that's not the same as being delusional. A person who still believes vaccines cause autism probably isn't delusional, they're just personally invested in the idea because it validates their view that autism is bad and gives them a scapegoat to blame for the existence of autistic people. That's an ideology, not a delusion.

Another flaw is that some things can't necessarily be confirmed to be untrue. One of the most well-known (and commonly mocked) delusions is some variation of "the government is spying on me". This isn't something that's easily verified as either true on untrue, and it's also something that literally does happen to people. I live in the US, where we know the government spies on people. We know that in the wake of 9/11, US intelligence agencies undertook a massive campaign of surveillance of Muslim and Middle Eastern people living in the US. So "the government is spying on me" might not actually be a false belief, and you probably can't know that for sure.

Attempting to rely on a belief being false can be dangerous, too. I remember reading the story of a person who was labelled as delusional for saying Obama followed them on Twitter, and was incarcerated in a psych ward until they lied and said they'd realized they were delusional and Obama didn't follow them. The thing is, he did. It was true and verifiable, but the medical professional evaluating them refused to check if it was true so they didn't "encourage the delusion". Sane people tend to believe they have an absolute and correct understand of reality, and a lot of them would rather call you delusional than adjust their worldview. And if that person is a medical professional, they can completely turn your life upside down and stick you in conditions that the UN has called torture.

So here's my proposed alternative: a delusion is an involuntary belief that isn't rooted in logic or evidence, and that a person can't stop believing even if they know it isn't true.

Let's break that down. The involuntary part is important. Delusional people don't have control over our delusions. We don't believe them because we want to or because we think they're true, we just believe them. It's true that delusions can draw on voluntary beliefs, including bigotry, but believing the delusion isn't a choice. We can't just stop. In the case of delusions rooted in bigotry, the person is still responsible for holding those bigoted beliefs in the first place, even though they don't have control of the delusion that came from them. This is an important caveat, because people love to call bigots delusional for things they chose to believe.

The second part is that it's not rooted in any kind of logic or evidence. If a person believes something untrue due to faulty logic and/or misinformation, that's not a delusion. That's called being wrong.

Lastly, I chose the wording "even if they know it's not true" very deliberately. Some delusional people know, either always or sometimes, that our delusions aren't real or true. I personally always know, but that never stops me believing them. If you've never experienced this, it can be hard to imagine what it feels like to know something isn't true and still be unable to stop believing in it. It's contradictory and confusing and really hard to put into words. Of course, there are also delusional people who don't know their delusions aren't true, or who're confused and can't figure it out. It's not the same for everyone. This part of the definition also covers being presented evidence and being unable to accept it as true.

For some people, being told their delusions aren't true can also be extremely distressing and even push them further into it. Never reality check a delusional person unless they ask you to, or it's part of a crisis plan you made with them. The same goes for playing into or confirming a delusion. Do your best to remain neutral on whether or not their belief is true, and try to focus more on their emotions and how it's affecting them. If you know a psychotic person, it's a good idea to ask them (preferably while they're not having a psychotic episode) how they'd like you to handle it.

I'm open to critique from other psychotic people, but if you're aggressive or mean I'll probably just ignore you. This is just an idea, a rough draft, and I'd like to know what the community thinks. Nonpsychotics can reblog, but keep your thoughts to yourself

-Oliver (it/its)

#the quicksilvers say #psychosis #delusions #schizophrenia #actually psychotic #actually delusional #actually schizophrenic #unreality #paranoia inducing

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gabessquishytum · 3 months

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Dream who is completely unable to handle praise or compliments of any kind and also has a huge praise kink. So Hob takes advantage of this by setting up a system where if he catches Dream saying something bad about himself or being mean to himself, as both a punishment and as a way to encourage Dream to think better about himself and to hopefully boost his confidence, Hob has Dream kneel in front of him with Hob's cock in his mouth while Hob plays with his hair and tells him how much he's loved. Hob will spend hours telling Dream how amazing he is, how kind, smart, and beautiful he is, and how much Hob loves him. And that he deserves all the love in the world.

At first Dream can barely stand it. The first time they do that, he has to safeword out because he just can't take it. He's so unused to praise, but loves it so much he just can't contain it, so he has to stop a minute to stop his head from spinning. He's also slightly ashamed at how much he likes it.. which of course leads to them doing it again, this time Hob telling him over and over again that he deserves validation and that he shouldn't be ashamed for wanting it, or just wanting things in general.

Eventually it stops being a sort of punishment and is just how they relax. They both find it very fulfilling, Dream gets to hear that he's loved and gets all the validation that he's always needed, and Hob gets to put all his feelings for Dream into words as best he can, and he's also helping Dream be kind to himself in the process (and he also gets his dick sucked)

-🪐

Dream being punished by being praised is just so 😭😭😭 holy shit. Poor baby. You're so right about him having to safeword out of it, I definitely feel like he simply wouldn't be able to cope. I have imagine him just sobbing and shaking while Hob holds him, petting him gently and rocking him until he recovers enough to be picked up and taken to bed.

But progress is made. Dream doesn't flinch when Hob calls him "Good boy". He can cope with a few simple compliments - he's taking a more neutral stance so it doesn't feel like a punishment anymore. He feels like maybe he deserves to hear nice soothing words. He can even start to feel properly horny about it! Even though he's still a little shy that he gets hard when Hob calls him pretty and sweet... and his shyness just makes Hob compliment him even more...

Ultimately Dream is able to relax and slide into a really nice headspace with Hob’s cock comfortably filling his mouth. All the nice things that Hob says about him feel like they might actually be true!

The pain doesn't have to last forever. Hob will always be there to help. And Dream does deserve the nicest things.

#🪐 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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heeseungsnewwhore · 10 months

Text

Nasty - Jake x Fem!Reader x Heeseung

So this was a crossfaded hard thought- A whole damn fantasy. It might turn out to be a whole one shot who knows…

I’m still not sober.

All I know is…

That when I imagine Jake is dancing all up on you in a club. It’s hot. It’s sexy. Your bodies are pressed so tightly together and just swaying and grinding with whatever music made itself present under the colorful strobe in the darkness. His forehead pressed against yours, hands planted on your waist.

His lips are so tantalizing.

But he’s thinking the same thing about yours.

But he’s being watched…

He is an idol after all.

And his ‘supervisors’ aren’t that far from anything but being glorified babysitters.

He’d tried a few times to just hide your bodies in the crowd- But there never seemed to be quite enough people to do that.

He’s getting frustrated.

But at the same time even more aroused at the thought of it all.

So he leans in and whispers unable to help himself.

“I really wanna fuck you…So bad right now.”

His words send a shiver down your spine. But not as much as when you feel his lips brush against your neck. You move to press your lips against his ear and whisper:

“Then let them watch…”

It’s then something in the man snaps and you feel his teeth grazing the skin of your neck before his hands are cupping your face- And he’s crashing his lips into yours. The two of you trading lips into hot, open mouth kisses. You could feel the tension rising, the eyes on you…

But you didn’t care.

Jake didn’t either.

You may not have been able to actually fuck but you’d take what you can get, feeding his fantasy.

But Jake really did have intentions he planned on seeing through.

There’s nowhere, no corner, no wall, no room for you two to disappear off into without their eyes on you and their heels on yours- But your back presses into something. Well more like someone.

You look back to see none other than Heeseung peering over his shoulder at you. Your back against his for a moment before he’s giving you a look. You’re not much for responses but completely embarrassed as Jake is having his way with your neck, leaving his mark all over you. Heeseung smirks. Watching the scene, he turns carefully away from the girl he was with, now having your back to his front.

“Have fun…I’ve got her.” Heeseung suddenly whispers, but not to you.

It was then when you saw the way the two looked at each other before your lips were being claimed again- A hand reaching down between your legs- You understood.

Heeseung was that wall.

Just how far was this about to go?

You didn’t have to question it for much longer when you felt two fingers massaging into your clit through your panties. Tilting your head back even further into Heeseungs chest as you let out a soft moan. The biggest smile gather at both the men’s lips.

“She’s fucking gorgeous.” You hear Heeseung mutter, feeling his hands playfully trail up and down along your naked arms.

You’d be shivering under his touch. Arching your body and leaning back against him. All the while Jake manages to having two fingers pumping in and out of you. One of your legs now being draped around his hip, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“J-Jake…Uhn, God…”

“How does it feel?” You feel his lips move against your neck, dragging up to your ear as he whispers again. “Tell me, babe…”

“I think she’s really enjoying being in the middle…” Heeseung says suddenly. His hand coming up from one of your arms, to grip your throat gently, raising your head back some so that your gaze meets his. “Oh yeah~…”

You were a shameless mess after that.

Heeseung’s Hands all over you. Having draped your top up and over your chest to expose your breasts. Fondling them before Jake’s mouth occupied your nipples more than anything. Heeseung’s hands now slowly traversing your dips and curves while Jake had now replaced the fingers that worked you open with that something more you’d been waiting for. Your hands slowly made their way up and back into Heeseung’s hair- gripping the tresses as Jake’s cock spreads your walls, pressing deeper. The older males hands gripping your waist with a soft groan as you pull his hair, teeth sinking into your neck as he begins to grind against your back, and you feel jsut how hard and damp he had become.

But of course-

These actions caused you to press even more onto Jake and a filthy noise escapes the both of your mouths. One arm holding your leg around his hip and the other having moved to have his hand around your throat.

He’s going faster.

Faster.

It’s a quick, wet, mess. He’s diving in completely the moment you take him all in and he’s not holding back. Knowing the eyes are all over you, you can’t help but find your gaze meeting that of their shocked manager…Little did you know that Heeseung was flashing that same manager the biggest smile as the three of you didn’t hesitate at all anymore.

Obviously.

You can’t keep yourself quiet in the slightest. You’re so close and so is he and Heeseungs panting and groaning in your ear isn’t helping. You’re chanting his name. Their names Your body rocking back and forth between them as they used you to chase their own highs.

“Fuck…Wish I was inside you, y/n.” Heeseung’s groans are almost that of a growl. Eyes still up to meet that of their managers that was completely dumbfounded.

“Sh-she’s so wet- ugh, fuck…You should try her~” Jake’s voice follows and you can hear the smirk at the end of his words.

“Should I? Should I fuck your wet little cunt next? Fuck you up again in front of everyone?”

“Y-Yes- Oh God, yes p-please…” You gasped, strained moans erupting from your throat as Jake’s hips never let up.

“So fucking cute when you beg.” Jake huffs.

“Good little slut.” Heeseung is moaning against your neck.

“So fucking tight-“

“So damn pretty…”

Their words spiraled on relentlessly, bringing you to the verge of tears, whimpering and writhing against them. Your legs aching, getting weak but they weren’t going to let you go anytime soon.

But their words were enough.

With Jake’s mouth finding it’s way back to your breasts, you drag a hand back down to his hair. Leaving the other in Heeseung’s as your body quakes. Legs trembling as you reached your breaking point. Your release soaking, dripping off and past Jake’s cock. Slamming into you again, again and again- before he’s buried himself as far as you’ll take him, spilling everything inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-“ He chants, grinding out his orgasm against your insides while Heeseung was doing the same against your back.

Until you felt the wet warmth spreading against your back. Heeseung releasing against you and your clothes shamelessly.

Yeah…

And when it’s his turn he doesn’t turn you around either…

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enha hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enhypen hard hours #enha heeseung #enha jake #kpop smut

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flowerandblood · 1 year

Text

The Impossible Choice (45)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: violence, character death ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

He spent the last hours before marching off snuggled in her womb, from above his head surrounded by her arms and breasts, from below her thigh placed on his torso. He lay with his eye closed thinking of nothing, feeling only the pounding of her heart, concentrating on the gentle touch of her hand stroking his hair.

He felt safe.

He tried to pretend he couldn't hear his wife's struggling to stop spasms of crying, her whole body trembling around him. Once in a while he kissed her almost invisibly rounded abdomen, hugging his cheek to it again a moment later, and began to wonder what their child might look like.

Would it have his silver hair, or would it be dark like his mother's? What would be the colour of his eyes? The shape of his nose? Would it have a calm, gentle character or explosive and fiery? Would it be a son or a daughter?

He felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought that he might not know the answers to these questions.

With his eye closed, he imagined their child in the arms of his beloved wife, singing him a lullaby to sleep. He imagined that he lay with his face cradled in her neck, his hand, his fingers capable of such cruel violence and brutality stroking infant's tiny hand clenched into a fist.

He felt tears under his eyelids at this wonderful vision of the ordinary, peaceful evening where it was just them, the only thing that mattered to him, his wife and his offspring safe in the shelter of his arms.

He wanted that vision to become a reality.

He wanted to come back to her.

He wanted to see their child.

Part of him regretted his decision, the fact that he had decided they would set out, make the first move. Part of him wished he could wait for the inevitable, not be aware of when it would happen and enjoy her closeness for as long as he could.

He prayed that the time to leave would not come, but finally a servant walked into their tent. He immediately looked away, embarrassed to see them completely naked and informed him that everything was ready. He heard his wife sobbing loudly, burying her face in her hands.

She was unable to look at him as the boy put on his armour, and he felt pain like he had never known before in his life.

He couldn't chase away the thoughts of death, of never seeing her, their child or his mother again.

Thoughts of how Daeron might have died with him, without really experiencing any of the joys of life.

When he was ready he ordered a servant to tell the commanders that he would join them immediately. He looked at his wife and saw her looking at him, pale, her eyes and nose red and puffy from crying, her swollen lips parted slightly in heavy breaths.

She was terrified.

He approached her slowly and knelt before her, gripping her cheeks in his hands.

"Remember what I told you." He whispered and placed a warm, sticky kiss on her forehead, then turned and left, regardless her silent cries from which his heart was breaking.

When he came out he was overwhelmed by the sight of so many troops, all the warriors ready to march, in full armour, looking at him uncertainly.

The sun was just setting.

He merely nodded at Lord Baratheon, then looked at his younger brother and the two of them set off for the hill where their dragons rested.

When he saw Tessarion, the blue, slender dragoness lying next to Vhagar she seemed tiny to him and he tightened his lips at the thought.

He thought he was taking his brother to the slaughter.

In a clash with Caraxes, he didn't stand a chance.

He had to protect him at all costs.

He stopped his brother with a hand gesture, placing his hand on his shoulder. Daeron was all pale and looked somewhere in the distance, tense.

"Look at me, brother." He said to him, forcing himself to be calm, but he felt his own voice tremble, betraying his fear as well. His younger brother glanced at him uncertainly, swallowing loudly.

He walked over to him and grasped his face in his hands.

"You are to be my support and stay back. Observe the situation. If more dragons appear than we anticipated, if you realise that the battle is lost, you will withdraw. Do you understand? You will flee. To King's Landing or anywhere else." He said lowly, looking him straight in the eye. Daeron shook his head, swallowing loudly.

"What are you saying?" He asked in a trembling voice, and his lips tightened.

"Don't try to be a hero. Promise me." He said firmly, looking at him with his lips tightened. Daeron swallowed loudly, and for a long moment answered nothing.

"I won't let you down, brother." He said with a childlike certainty from which his heart fluttered. He leaned over and kissed his hair, his first affectionate gesture towards his sibling that he could remember.

"You're meant to survive." He said and let him go, his brother looking at him in disbelief and horror.

"Let's go." He ordered turning towards Vhagar, climbing with difficulty onto her back.

After a moment, they both lifted themselves into the air with a tremble of earth, complete darkness already around them. He saw his army from below, moving behind him, Vhagar and Tessarion gliding across the night sky in complete silence.

They had to maintain the effect of surprise.

They couldn't be loud, they couldn't move too fast.

The attack on the Eyrie was going to be brutal and merciless, burning everything around it and those inside.

He wanted Daemon to feel what he felt when he watched his uncle burn Harrenhal.

When, after several hours, he finally caught sight of the outline of the fortress of House Arryn, he glanced distantly at his brother, who nodded to him.

They moved between the hills so as not to be spotted from afar, however Vhagar was so large that it required great effort and concentration for him to guide her.

He could feel the sweat running down his back, his heart pounding in his chest like mad, the bright moon and clear sky over his head.

Suddenly the high fortress seemed at his fingertips, he had the impression that he saw a stir, that several of the guards saw their death approaching silently in the sky.

It was now or never.

"DRACARYS!" He heard his own loud shout and then saw Vhagar open her maw, the night flashed with the light of a wave of fire that erupted suddenly from her throat.

He heard the screams of the guards and the people who were probably inside the fortress now from afar.

Daeron moved to follow him, both of them burning everything they saw around them, tents of the Daemon's army, their soldiers, their horses, their supplies.

The wails and sobs of the people were like music to his ears, the conviction that they had just been slaughtered.

That they had really managed to surprise them.

They were burning not just to destroy the enemy.

They were burning to clear a path for their army, so that they could see what was happening around them and so that they could take advantage of the confusion surrounding them.

He glanced over his shoulder, panting heavily, and saw the cavalry under the command of his uncle and his wife's father moving forward, killing men along the way who had not burned.

Slaughter.

Fire and Blood.

He thought with a beating heart that his plan was working.

Daemon really did think he was a coward, had underestimated him and was now paying the price.

He glanced quickly at Daeron, wanting to be sure he was safe.

And then he heard it – a loud roar of Caraxes in the distance, her silhouette moving nimbly across the sky in the moonlight. He spotted out of the corner of his eye behind her two other figures of smaller dragons and pressed his lips together.

He ordered Vhagar to turn back, Daeron retreated with him and began circling over his army, which was just crushing their assembled forces of Northern Lords, Velaryons and Arryns. He swallowed loudly when he noticed that Caraxes was accompanied by Vermax and Moondancer.

Jace and Baela.

He smiled at the thought that Rhaenys was not with them.

She had stayed in Dragonstone with Rhaenyra, waiting for the sign from Daemon to attack King's Landing when he and his men attacked their army with their new dragon riders.

Not going to happen, he thought.

Several things happened suddenly and his mind could barely keep up with what was going on – Caraxes opened her maw and breathed fire, but Vhagar did the same, the two pillars of fire colliding in mid-air. He only heard something fly past him and turned his head behind his shoulder.

Vermax and Moondancer moved on their army, as Borros had predicted, one of them wanted try to distract Vhagar, so he could not protect them.

He watched with a pounding heart as Daeron came out to face them with courage despite his dragon being much smaller, waves of fire burning in the sky around them.

He wanted Vhagar to turn back, however, she angrily pushed against Caraxes who did a backward turn and retreated, pulling him away from the battlefield at the same time.

"Dohaerās, Vhagar! Rȳbās! (Serve me, Vhagar! Obey!)" He shouted, pulling at the ropes in an attempt to turn her back, but his dragoness went into a fury, chasing after his uncle's dragon with such ferocity that Caraxes could barely keep up to take evasive action against the subsequent flames.

He looked to the side and saw his brother fighting a hopeless two-on-one battle trying with all his might to draw Jace and Baela away from their troops.

Suddenly Caraxes rose high into the air and twisted like a serpentine, turning, and he saw his uncle fly over, leaping down along with his Dark Sister straight at him.

He thought it was over.

There was no way he could have avoided his blow.

He would not keep his promise.

He was going to die.

He grabbed his sword, and then he saw it.

He saw his uncle's neck cut by a crossbow arrow, his face expressed surprise, his body involuntarily beginning to fall to the ground.

He heard the mighty roar of Caraxes, who rushed after her rider's body as if to come to his rescue, however, his body fell from such a height onto a stone hill that he could not have survived.

Vhagar moved down behind her while he looked to the side, trying to retrace the flight of the arrow, and spotted Lord Borros looking up on him on his horse, crossbow in his hand.

Although my mother treats my wife as her daughter, you do not treat me as your son.

He felt a squeeze in his throat and an ache in his heart.

He felt like a little boy who wanted to cry with happiness that his father had arrived on time.

As if his father had managed to come to his aid before Luke took his eye from him.

A feeling poured over his heart that he had not known before, though he so painfully craved it.

A feeling of awe, a feeling of gratitude, a feeling of filial love for a father who had stood up for him.

Who had protected him.

And then he heard Baela's scream so loud that it echoed throughout the valley.

"DRACARYS!!!!!!"

He saw Borros disappear in a wave of fire and shouted loudly, clasping his hands on his saddle, leaning forward, an exasperated 'Angōs!' ripped from his throat.

Vhagar's snout opened, and the screech and howl of Caraxes echoed around him as her fangs crushed part of his body, turning back, releasing what was left of him. Beala rushed at him with a yell and ordered Moondancer to breathe fire towards his dragon, but he only laughed out loud.

This fucking whore.

He thought she would pay him for that.

She would pay him for killing their father.

Moondancer was fast and agile, but she was frightened by the size of Vhagar and turned back despite the desperate cries of her rider.

She had stopped listening to her, he thought with amusement bordering on madness.

Vhagar's snout opened again as he commanded her to breathe fire, but a loud screech caught his attention.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Vermax's maw clamped over Tessarion's throat, wrestling with each other through the skies. He could only watch helplessly as the dragoness, along with his brother, fell from the heavens crashing to the ground.

His heart stopped.

No.

Not him.

Even though he had Beala at his fingertips he changed his direction of flight and thrust at Jace with a furious roar, a pillar of fire left Vhagar's mouth from which Vermax barely managed to dodge. His nephew was sure he had escaped and soared upwards.

And then suddenly a third dragon appeared in front of them.

Sunfyre.

Aegon.

It was his answer to his letter.

Vermax panicked finding himself suddenly between two dragons, he heard Jace shouting, ordering him to dive down, but it was too late, Lord Strong disappeared into the jaws of Sunfyre, whose jaws clamped down on his dragon, tearing it in half.

He could feel it ringing in his ears.

Daemon and Jace were dead.

From that moment the battle was a foregone conclusion. Baela had disappeared between the hills, probably flying to inform the Black Whore of the death of her husband and first-born son.

His heart was torn by such extreme emotions that he felt like screaming.

He ordered Vhagar to land where he noticed Tessarion had fallen – he saw that her corpse had crushed body of his younger brother, who was lying beneath her.

He slid down from Vhagar's back, above him again and again the night sky was lit by the glow of Sunfyre fire, burning the remnants of the Black army that had fled.

He fell to his knees feeling that his legs refused to obey him, panting all over and struggling to run up to his brother. He saw that Daeron was breathing, his eyes wide open, his body from the waist down crushed by the dead body of his dragoness.

He tried with all his strength to slide her body off him and when he finally succeeded, he saw that his body was broken. He stared at this sight as if stupefied and touched his face, his brother still staring ahead.

"– brother – brother, look at me –" He said pleadingly, but he did not speak, a whine came from his throat.

He saw a ripple of blood come out of his mouth, which he gulped down as tears trickled from his eyes.

He lifted him higher, holding his head so that he did not suffocate, but the blood did not stop pouring from his mouth. He cried out loudly, not knowing how to help him, so he just pressed his face against his temple, holding him close, feeling his body convulse, and then suddenly he was silent, his body limp and sprawled in his arms.

He could feel his heart pounding hard, feel his uneven breathing, feel his body twitching.

"− Daeron? − brother − please −" He mumbled, but it seemed to him that it was not his voice, so squeaky, high-pitched, trembling. He stroked his cheek, his brother's empty eyes looking somewhere to the side.

His whole hands were dirty from his blood.

"− brother, wake up −" He said quietly, shaking him, as if he had walkend into his chamber in the morning and wanted to wake him up.

He could not be dead.

He could not.

He combed his soft hair, looking at the boy's face, the child's face, and felt pain, felt shame that it was he who had cooled his cruelty, advised him in his letters with the wisdom of an old man, always ready to support him, always offering his love and devotion.

And he had never told him how much he meant to him.

He seemed so small to him now in that great, cold armour.

"− little brother − please −" He called out loudly, helplessly, from deep in his throat.

He pressed his fingers to his face and burst into sobs, unable to look at him, at the dead face of his beloved younger brother, the most innocent of them all.

"− forgive me −" He whimpered in his ear, cradling him in his arms like a small child. "− forgive me − forgive me − forgive me − forgive me − forgive me −"

He did not know how long he sat like this, did not feel the ground tremble as Sunfyre landed beside Vhagar, Aegon shouting to him, informing him about their great victory.

He did not see how he froze suddenly, standing over him, did not hear him say their brother's name, did not hear him cry and whine like an animal, falling to his knees beside him, pressing his face against Daeron's armour.

In that moment, they were nothing more than brothers.

_____

Taglist 1

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neetily · 2 months

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↳ EVENT 33. M!Kylar (Worship & Watersports)

— ✧ warnings: body worship, watersports, piss, yandere, piss kink, fluff, fluffy, bathing — ✧ word count: 2,592

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

If his heart was beating any faster than it already is, he's sure he'd be having a clinical heart attack by now.

Shivering in the tub, despite the water you had ran for him being hot— perhaps a little too much so, given how red his body looks from head to toe— excitement fills him full. Pools in his tummy, has his breath all shaky and unstable as you make him wait like a good dog. Naked and exposed for you to leer at as you undress too, he struggles to keep his eyes off of you in spite of the giddy vulnerability that courses through his veins. Unsure of if he's even allowed to take a peek, and inevitably doing so anyway as the shuffles of clothing beg for his attention.

A trembled "Oh..." escapes him at the angelic sight, barely there and hardly audible given how loudly his heart thumps for you, a complete and utter mess for you before you've even gotten in the bath with him. Unable to voice the overfilled affections he regards you with, spilling out instead as sighs and gasps as he witnesses the perfection that you are, how soft and pretty you look when undressing before him, matching his state of undress with such ease that he feels as though he's going to choke on how much he adores you.

And the loving smile you adorn when catching his eye only exacerbates his issue, prompting him into giving you a forced rushed smile in return. A creepy one, he's been told. Bullied into submission over before by others, but the way you so easily allow him to melt before you is unusually comforting; stark acceptance is not something he's used to, you know?

But it almost pains him, in a sense. To have someone as perfect and pretty as you inch closer towards him, his gaze uncertain of where it wants to settle because there are so many choices to pick from when it comes to you. Your face is so beautiful to him, of course, but especially when you smile upon him like that. Like you embody the sun itself, captured by his dirty hands so that only he may feel your warmth shining down on him. And your body, God— he can think of no word other than perfect, dripping down his throat with suffocating compliance, as if merely watching you step into the bath with him was a miracle in and of itself, something borne out of his late night fantasies and only those lewd imaginings. It's a difficult pill to swallow that you're enacting his deepest secrets willingly, unprompted. You get it, right?

Only, this doesn't feel lewd, does it? Despite the fact that both he and yourself are naked, the water splashing around him gently as you dip into the tub with him, his vision honing in on the way your tits bounce with your movements, prompting him to swallow the lump of love deep seated in his throat so that he can mutter a soft "Hello.", this isn't lust induced by any stretch of the imagination. This isn't lewd so much as it is love, right? Pure, unadulterated, love. The thought of which makes his chest all tight, feeling a little lightheaded as you get comfortable and settled at the other end of the tub from him as if it were the most normal thing in the world. And really, deep down, he knows that it is; two lovers sharing the water together is expected, right? Allowing him the pleasure of simply staring, letting his eyes travel all over your body as you sit pretty for him, cock understandably twitching under the water for attention as he gawks openly at the way you tenderly rub at your arms, get yourself all wet.

"Is the water a good temperature?" Your voice suddenly pulls him from his self indulgent thoughts, and he's quick to reassure you that yes, it's perfect, just like you, with a snap nod. Voice lost on him with how close you are to him right now, his jaw tight and tense and lips sealed out of fear of saying the wrong thing, not when you're being so kind to him.

Which is a strange feeling, he settles on. It feels weird to have you be so affectionate towards him, to simply exist by his side without expecting anything else of him— and yet still, it's nice. A welcome change of pace, now that you've accepted your place by his side. A little weirdness never hurt him before, so he does his best to welcome your generosity with, well, he can't say open arms. Not when he hugs his knees tight to his chest at the tap end of the bath, humming absently to himself at the way his cock hardens between his legs, thighs squishing around his length out of obligation rather than anything else. The silence you offer him in return feels light, almost airy in how low your expectations are, and he's not quite sure how to proceed.

Not because he doesn't have things he wants to say or things he wants to do, but because you look upon him with such love. So much reassurance in your half lidded gaze, the feeling of your toes rubbing soothingly along the underside of his thighs as he shakes before you, how every time you move your body a little bit of the water spills over and out of the tub, his emotions with it.

He finds himself relating to the tub, and how small it feels now that you're in it with him. Residing in his heart, always, turning the empty space fit to burst with your mere presence. He relates to the spilling water in a way closely linked to his excitement, how overwhelming it feels when it burrows down to his tummy, making his cock all twitchy against him, how he feels as though he's about to vomit any time your eyes land on his and he has to immediately look away. He's reminded of how you laugh at him some days, reminding him that he wanted this, so why is he so shy now? The kind of excitement that leaves him stuttering, quiet, going with the flow of you as he's renders a mere spill to the floor.

"You know," You start, his eyes darting to your face, pupils surely blown wide from how hazy his vision appears. The dulcet tone of your voice alone is enough to leave him overstimulated, a burn at his core giving way to something he really shouldn't do, so he ignores it for now. Would rather listen to you talk for hours and hours and hours anyway. "I read online somewhere , I don't remember where... That, um... Well, maybe it's just an anecdote, now that I think about it, but," God, fuck, he's so terribly in love with you and your rambling, seething behind his knees, peering above them as you make idle chatter between grabbing the soap by your side and glaring at his meek attitude. "Baths can cure ninety percent of what's wrong with you. That there's very little baths can't help you with, y'know? Something about water being healing, or whatever." You giggle, and he thinks to himself that rather than the bath water being what cures him, it's the high pitched tone of your laughter that'll heal all that ails him. The sentiment is nice, though. You're nice, prompting him into turning around, offering your soapy hand to his back.

"Oh, y-you don't need to, y'know..." He trails off, cheeks heated at the understanding of what you're asking him to do, worried that he may taint you the same way he's been dirtied already, and yet—

"Please. I'd like to, you'll do it for me, right?"

"A-Always... If you're sure..."

You've likened him to a dog plenty times before, and he thinks he finally understands it now. The feeling of your tender loving paw against his shivering skin, rubbing in the soap, letting it soak through his filth; he's both surprised and a little ashamed at how much he loves the feeling of being looked after by you, fervour rising tight in his body, cock twitching away in private as you do good to care for him. And just like the dog you claim him to be, he can't help but to yearn, deep in the pit of his stomach, in his heart, in his hazy mind, and in his throbbing cock, to do whatever you so much as ask of him— not in the least including allowing you to wash him, soaping together in a sacred act of affection. Look, he begs to whisper, how eager I am to drown for you. Soaking up all that your light touch has to offer him, seeping deeper into the water and, by extension, in closer proximity against you. Instinctively leaning back to give you more surface area to cover, keeping his face hidden behind his knees, cowering from the amount of care and attention your promising fingers imbue into him. He's never been treated so kindly before, a soft fuzz filling his lungs at just how slow and careful you are, making sure to reach every inch of his skin. And it feels funny in his tummy to be the one being worshipped, but it's a feeling he wants for more than anything else to get used to, especially since you're so good at it.

Not lewd, remember, but rather... Adoration. Innocent devotion, if he wanted to be flowery about it. An uncharacteristically soft smile tugging on his lips for only him to see as your silky smooth hands wash over his shoulders, tracing the outline of his spine, and back up again. A rushed gasp escaping him when your eager fingers traverse around to his chest, wrapping him up in one big frothy hug for him to whine at.

"You know," Another rub of his chest, touching him so gently, so lightly, as if you were afraid he'd shatter before you if you applied any ounce more of pressure to his shaking frame. He's not used to this sort of worship, the ghostly touch you offer him as you help clean his chest, his neck, the feeling of your hands wrapped around his gasping throat causing his cock to twitch some more, to spill precum all over the bath water as you apply just the minimal amount of pressure to edge his excitement. And in his tummy, the pressure increases too, only without your touch. A creeping, growing need coiling ever tighter with each second of your love that passes by. "I've always thought, you... As in the general you, maybe not you specifically..." another giggle, sounding right by his ear for him to gulp at. Yeah, he thinks to himself. You're probably right. You've come to know him so intimately that he's sure you know him better than himself by now, which is why he trusts you so wholeheartedly to look after him, to praise each individual limb of his until you're satisfied. It's the least he could do, he thinks. "You could fuck anyone, right? Easily done. But, there are very few people you'd be willing to share a bath with."

In that, you love him enough to do so, right? In that, as he melts into the warm water surrounding him, leaning against your naked front to peer up at you with a wobble in his lips, he's lucky, right?

He's only ever wanted you. Obsessed from the beginning, willing and wanting to worship every part of you for all eternity— and yet here he is, cock rock hard and ignored, letting you grab the bottle of shampoo to slowly scrub his head clean, each and every dig of your nails against his scalp whispering reverence, his easily excitable attitude getting the better of him as he suddenly jumps away from you the moment he feels his eyes start to close in an attempt to escape you tender clutches.

"Kylar?" Ah, the worry lacing your words doesn't help his position, making that tight ball of need grow increasingly bigger. "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah..." He mumbles more to himself than anything else, fists balled between his legs— if he had a tail, it'd surely be wagging furiously from how happy he is right now, in spite of his outward anxieties. "It's— It's just, um..."

You hum, and he wants to look at you, to reassure you that his reaction to the gentle care you've provided him isn't the reason behind his scare. But rather, something a little more embarrassing. A product of his dog like excitement, chewing on his bottom lip in idle fascination. He's never quite felt this way before, it's nice to experience it for the first time with the love of his life.

"It's okay," You shuffle closer, much like earlier when you had inched towards the tub, his heart stuttering in his chest from sheer nervous delight thrumming through him, making his cock all wet and ah, the feeling of your lips pressing light against his shoulder, barely there if he's honest, tips him over the edge. He tried so hard to hold back for you, but as with all things, you know best.

"It's... It's coming out..." He resigns, removing his hands to let you watch with him as a stream of piss is shot from his rock hard cock, yellow streaming from his tip as his length throbs, pulses under your watchful eye, as if begging for your utmost attention. Do you see what you do to me? Got me so excited, I— I couldn't help myself. Like a fucking dog, pissing all over himself because he got too excited by your meagre touch, by the way you watch him turn the tub a funny colour with only curiosity, allowing him to empty himself in the shared bath before nonchalantly returning your attention back to worshipping his body; hands reverting back to his head to finish the shampoo job he'd just interrupted to piss, and he can't stop the mewl that escapes him at the generous scratch your nails offer him.

"It's okay," You kiss his cheek, and he has to clench his fists a little harder to avoid touching himself in response. "Even that, too, is worthy of love, don't you think?"

"My, uh... The pee?" He gasps, relishing in the way you just instinctively know how to satisfy him, silent proof of your loyalty, that you were made for him— so perfect for him that you don't mind the fact that he's just pissed himself, even?

"Mhm. Promise." You continue cleaning him, the clatter of a cup filling with water before you pour it atop his head ringing in his ears, a stark reminder of his piss dripping from his fluttering eyelashes when you prompt him into turning around, his face all scrunched up in what he can only assume resembles pain from your doting smile.

"My turn." Is all you say before turning around too, edging backwards so that you're closer to him, and he intuitively grabs at the soap by your side.

Nothing, no one, could ever hope to make him feel as loved, accepted, and worshipped as you've made him feel tonight. Sitting in the bath together, a mix of fluids he can only hope include your own. He gets it's now.

You aren't trying to clean so much as you're trying to resemble his filth, right?

#dol smut #dol kylar smut #kylar the loner #kylar the loner smut #degrees of lewdity smut #degrees of lewdity kylar smut #just thought i'd post some DOL content too #kylar🔪

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seelestia · 2 years

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— 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋.

ending #1 to heart to heart and a branch from do you love me?

SUMMARY. holding on hurts, letting go hurts. regrets just seem to trail after you like a shadow but ultimately, you have made your decision — this is it. (right?) (3.2k+ words)

CHARACTERS. zhongli, ganyu (briefly), guizhong (implied/mentioned).

GENRE. angst, bittersweet breakup, lovers to exes (but it's so obvi you still love each other).

CW. one use of a pet name, a breakup scene, repeated apologies, reader experiences a headache. + read the alt text on zhongli's header for an extra summary!

THOUGHTS. this was long overdue, but thanks to those who waited! this was such a ride... 3,000+ words just to write a breakup scene?? indeed, that might be a sign to buckle up (maybe).

✰ main masterlist. // series masterlist.

Cold, so cold.

The night breeze was already nipping at your skin moments before but as you mustered the courage to hesitantly face your lover, it felt as if the goosebumps on your arms had all turned into thorns that began to prick at you slowly.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to meet ZHONGLI's gaze, not yet.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, like a coward caught red-handed, the ground was the only thing you could settle your eyes on out of the guilt inside your heart. What sort of look could he possibly be harboring right now, you wondered.

Could it be anger? But anger, in Zhongli's language, was layers of bedrocks that had to be knocked on with a certain intensity, or rather an act powerful enough to shake his core, in order to truly incite it. Or perhaps, could it be resignation? That was a feeling most familiar to him; something you grew used to seeing on him too like how you often cracked a joke at the dining table and he'd shake his head with a smile... but you knew this time was something completely different.

(Since when did those memories begin to feel like such a long time ago? So out of reach, so distant. At that very moment, you realized that this was one of the times where you were unable to read him.)

"Ganyu," Zhongli was the first one to break the silence; his voice was firm, a trait so very like him, as he wasted no time to address the adeptus beside you. In contrast to his composed tone, your friend sounded much more strained. "Y-yes, Rex Lapis?" she replied quietly. It seemed as if she finally learnt how to breathe again after holding it in for so long.

"Allow us a moment alone, please," he asked and that was her cue to turn to you with a questioning gaze. If it was alright or if you wanted her to stay instead — you gave her a small reassuring smile, although your legs were about to fail on you in truth — and Ganyu left. However, not without giving your arm one last comforting squeeze before the sound of her footsteps became quieter and quieter until they were out of earshot.

So, it was just you and him now.

Where should you even begin? Whatever should you say to him? Your mind buzzed, your jaw grew slack, and your knuckles turned white. The suffocating pressure of needing to explain yourself, of having to speak first was getting to you — and Zhongli could tell all too well.

"My love," he called you, softly.

Why does being called that sting so much now?

Your eyes widened when a familiar touch, or rather Zhongli's, pulled you closer. His hands were warm as they cradled the sides of your face and his amber eyes were meticulous as they scanned for any injuries. "You're not hurt," his relieved sigh was more than enough indication of his worry for you as he carefully released your face from his grasp.

Reckless, you were indeed. Sneaking out of his embrace in the middle of the night, with no destination in mind, nor any sort of notes left behind... Zhongli was always known for his composure, but you could only imagine the rush of panic that came over him when his arms felt colder than usual and you were nowhere to be found.

You felt stupid.

Before, you were able to let your guard down and let them overflow through your river of tears as you cried your heart out to your friend — yet, now that the very center of your heartache was here, you had no choice but to put up a feeble wall in such a short period of time. Was his presence here just a testament to prove how terrible you were at pretending? Emotions, built like the surface of a dam where crevices were beginning to form slowly but surely, could only be held off for so long.

You mustn't cry anymore.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, although even you were unsure of what exactly. Those two words could stand for so many things; for making him worry, for acting so immature and running away, for asking questions you shouldn't have, so many more that you couldn't even hope to pinpoint.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Zhongli uttered to you, said with not the least bit of hesitation. And that smile of his, Archons, that smile; soft lips curled in such a tender way, in such a way that filled you with a kind of warmth so painful, in such a way that was telling you words of comfort. (How could such a simple gesture from him accomplish such a thing?)

"You heard everything, didn't you?" The tone that you used was not threatening nor was it aggressive; rather, it was outwardly calm, but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't harboring the slightest ounce of hope that he'd say he didn't.

His answer was simple. Simple, not as in easy to say or admit, but simple in the way that it was something a man named Zhongli was most familiar with — and what else would it be if not telling the truth? "Yes, I did," he admitted.

Of course, he did. The corners of your eyes began to sting once more as if droplets of flames were falling from the skies above and you brought your hand up to wipe at them hastily. A futile attempt, yet you tried until Zhongli replaced your fingers with his own, dabbing away at the remnants of your tears with the fabric of his gloves.

"Take your time, I shall wait," he told you and you chewed on your lips frustratedly.

So loving and so gentle, those were what his gestures to you always spoke of — but you just didn't understand. Why was he acting so kind? No, how could he still afford to be so kind to you after hearing all that you said earlier? You almost wanted to shake off his hand for you felt undeserving, unworthy to be showered in a light as golden as his.

(His patience had always been a kind offer, but you knew you mustn't dwell on it any longer.)

"Zhongli," you grabbed ahold of his hands that were wiping away your tears with a strength you didn't think you were still able to muster. The man looked mildly surprised at your change, but that soon turned into affirmation as he nodded, a sign that he was all ears for you.

Perhaps, he, too, knew what was coming.

Breaking up with him would be akin to giving up everything after such a long journey of chasing, but was it worth at the cost of your own heart? You already asked yourself that question for many nights and your answer was that: choosing to stay or choosing to leave would both pave a way to regrets, but you needed to prioritize yourself.

(It never meant that the regrets from not choosing the other decision left just like that, however.)

No more warm embraces, no more drowning in the scent of his cologne, no more sharing a cup of tea together and sharing your most intimate thoughts — but that's alright, you'll be alright, he'll be alright, everything will be alright.

"I'd like to end things."

There, you laid your all bare before him with a shaky breath. Unreal, unbelievable just how quickly that moment passed by compared to all the times you actually spent thinking them over in your head.

Silence came, one that made you wonder whether the gravity of this situation had finally sunk on him to its fullest like it did with you — you didn't dare, you were too scared to look up at him — but it all ended when you heard him exhale a breath.

"I understand," he said but somehow, there was something amiss. Ah, it was the usual firmness and certainty that he usually held, you felt as if you couldn't sense it all in those two words he spoke.

Throughout your entire life, this was the first time that Zhongli, the composed gentleman from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor who always seemed to know what to say, looked so lost for words. You were certain that the moment you asked him that question, he'd respond to you with an answer that would make you admire him all there for his mental strength (something that you wished you had more of).

If so, then what was this? That gaze, with those amber eyes, slowly drifted towards the ground as if answers were written across it, although he knew life was never that easy.

"Could..." he started but not without pursing his lips after, a sign that reluctance that plagued his every action within those brief moments.

As you witnessed the strongest person you knew falter slightly in search for words, came a realization: that perhaps, even someone like Zhongli needed a moment of respite from being placed at such a high pedestal and as someone who loved him (once or maybe, even still?), your heart wanted to reach for him. It felt like an instinct, the need to reach out your hands to him, for it was unreal to see him look so vulnerable — but you stopped yourself at the last moment.

"Could the reason why you've come to this decision tonight," Zhongli picked up where he left off to ask a question. Not just any question, but the one you dreaded the most that night; he continued, "—possibly be about her?"

Guizhong.

The way the wind whispered her name into your ear came in the form of a caress, the sort that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers tangled with each other in a nervous fidget and you looked away. No confirmation nor denial had come out of your lips, but you knew the answer was already clear.

"...I'm sorry," you mumbled quietly into the cold night. That had been the second time you apologized to him that night — Zhongli frowned, "Please do not say that." — and that was the second time he told you not to that night too.

"It's just—" your lips trembled, "I just feel so immature. I was the one who so eagerly asked you about her and now, I'm crying over the consequences of my own actions."

It was like holding up a spoon of poison to your lips and feeling it run down your throat to grow vines that make their way to your soul; that was how the curiosity of asking and the ache of finding out felt like. At times, you wondered endlessly how differently everything would've turned out if you didn't pry more and left it at there instead?

(Ha, as if the past wasn't always hated for how unchangeable it was.)

"I'm so ridiculous, aren't I?" you scoffed pitifully at yourself. "No, you're not," he answered. You looked at him through your teary eyes with genuine surprise at how quickly Zhongli responded as if he predicted you'd ask him that question and he had long thought of his answer.

"It should be me who apologizes instead," the man placed a hand over his chest, a sense of formality that seemed so out of place at this very moment. You sensed that he had more to say and you clutched your hands closer to your chest, faltering momentarily.

For Zhongli may not be known as a poet, but words proved themselves to be a strong weapon at his disposal in the past and you were afraid of that fact. Afraid of what he was about to say, afraid that his next words might make it harder for you to let him go.

"You are a wonderful lover, [Y/N]."

You held your breath.

"The way you love or rather, being loved by you is a foreign feeling that I have never felt before and I've spent many years living," he uttered wistfully, "Perhaps, too many."

That visage of nostalgia, as if moments from the many centuries he experienced were flickering before his very eyes, was ever-so fleeting. "I apologize," and Zhongli discarded his brief daze to look at you intently, "For proving myself to be unable to return the same to you, to love as beautifully as you loved me."

"Spending eons on this land hasn't blurred my vision for I could see the very moment you began hurting after hearing the stories I told you. I could see that the more you asked, the more your smiles reached your ears no more," he was silent for a brief pause that lasted for a blink of an eyes, lips pursed, "I apologize for not denying your questions, if only I knew it'd turn out this way."

His words.

"And your heart, it is akin to the sunshine of dawn peeking through mountains. Not too bright that it hurts another's eyes, yet not too dim that they have to scour the horizon to find trails of you. It is the gentlest light that could ever caress a person's gaze."

God, his words.

"So, fill it. Fill your heart with what makes you smile to the fullest. If staying with me can no longer do that for you, then..."

Why?

"Then, let us end things."

Why do they hurt in the most beautiful of ways?

"You—" you lifted one hand, feeble. "You're so cruel," and you thudded on his chest, you hit him as lightly as how a calm heart would thump to its rhythm. Zhongli knew you didn't intend on doing any actual damage to him but still, he watched you, stunned and slightly confused.

(But even so, even if he didn't understand why, you still looked the most endearing of all in his eyes.)

"How can you say such kind things when we're breaking up with each other?" you hit him again and the more you did so, the more you realized how similar you were to a sleepy child trying to throw a tantrum. He smiled at you softly, "I am only stating the truth."

The last phrase he used rendered you into a state of silence for a moment. Truth, a word that had accompanied you throughout this journey of discovering and regretting. Truth, a word that couldn't help but remind you of all the tears you shed and the conflict you had to endure. Truth, a word that somehow managed to summon a throbbing ache in your temple.

The truth, the truth, the truth.

"Ugh, my head..." you groaned, retracting your hand from atop Zhongli's chest to pinch the side of your forehead. The pain was dull, yet the way it kept on festering was growing increasingly unbearable. You assumed that it was just exhaustion finally taking its toll on your body after the little adventure you went on tonight.

"Are you alright?" you heard Zhongli ask faintly. Naturally, he wasn't the least bit oblivious to the sight of that agonized frown on your face. Somehow, the visible concern in his voice gave your this weird flutter, but the headache was just too distracting for you to properly acknowledge it.

Probably because it meant that he still cared, despite the current circumstances between the two of you.

But goodness, the pain. You honestly felt you could collapse if you kept standing here any longer... Darn it, was this what they meant when they said desperate times call for desperate measures? "I know this is going to sound sudden," you sniffled, "But can I lean on you just for a bit?"

How embarrassing, you scolded yourself internally. To have just broken up with him then to ask the oddest request right afterwards.

"Of course," but Zhongli didn't look like he particularly mind. Or at least, that was what you could decipher from that kind smile on his lips; of how it spoke the language of understanding, of how it was wordlessly telling you to go ahead.

"Thank you," your words were but a quiet murmur as you gingerly buried your head on Zhongli's shoulder.

Warmth, no, his warmth always felt like an all-enveloping embrace but you were aware that this was not an embrace, aware that his hands were not touching you. No reassuring pats and comforting up-and-downs, no firm hold to bring you closer like usual — and then you realized: it was a sign of respect, a line drawn by you yourself, a harsh reminder that you and Zhongli were not lovers anymore.

It was quite hypocritical, the way your heart clenched upon realizing. Not just that but you could already feel them, almost taste them — the regrets that were about to soak you whole like thundering clouds coming your way. You closed your eyes, hoping that it'd shut those emotions away if you gave in to the fatigue tugging on your eyelids and in to the moment of kindness Zhongli was offering you.

A form of blissful ignorance, perhaps. But you just felt so tired, so, so hopelessly tired to deal with them that you couldn't help but find yourself sinking further and further into his shoulder.

(For you knew that this will be the last time you'd get to bask in his heat, to breathe in his scent, to be so close to him ever again.)

"...I'm tired, I'm so tired..." you mumbled, voice muffled by his clothes but you were already treading at the edge of staying awake at that point.

"Close your eyes," Zhongli said gently.

You envied his voice; always so smooth like running through expensive fabric, always so serene like listening to a lullaby, always so composed whenever he spoke like nothing in this world bothered him... Then, it was all quiet, your thoughts and everything else.

You had fallen asleep.

Such a shame that you missed to hear how soft his voice became when he said his next words, for it was a tone he only ever reserved for you.

"Good night, [Y/N]."

Zhongli leaned in — your temple was only mere centimetres away from his lips and like second nature, he was about to give you a good night kiss — but he stopped himself at the very last moment. How could he have been careless? How could he let a past habit slip past him so easily?

You were no longer his, how could he forget that?

Old habits die hard, they say.

He peered down at you with inexplicable emotions glistening in his eyes, emotions that even he himself couldn't place his hands on. Your face was resting on his shoulder which hid you from his sight, yet Zhongli had admired you so many times before that he could paint each of your features with just his mind alone.

...Perhaps, loving you will be an old habit that dies hard for him until the next eternity.

"I love you," he whispered. Three words that fell on deaf ears, for you already drifted too far into the clutches of slumber to hear the sound of his voice carried by the night wind.

And whether Zhongli was fine with that or not — what mattered was that you and him were no longer lovers from now on, but acquaintances with memories.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

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