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seongwars · 1 month

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forget me not | i

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party? Word Count: 7.4K Warnings: smoking, swearing, hurt/no comfort

Fic Masterlist

a/n: the long awaited first chapter of my Yunho mini series I've been struggling with is finally here (and yes I was inspired by xxxholic)

Jeong Yunho considered himself to be lucky.

He had a successful career in investment banking at KQ Bank, where his strategic acumen and relentless work ethic had earned him respect and a solid reputation among his peers and leadership.

His social life was equally fulfilling; he mingled with influential figures in his field, enjoyed lively gatherings, and maintained a close circle of friends who valued his thoughtfulness and charisma.

And he was set to marry the love of his life–Haewon. Their engagement was the kind of story people loved to hear, a testament to their enduring love and shared journey from pulling all-nighters at the library to the challenges of real adulthood.

To those around them, their union seemed like a fairytale—a perfect blend of romance and stability that they had carefully cultivated over the years. Friends and family often remarked on how well-suited they were for each other, their complementary personalities creating a harmonious balance.

Yet, despite the joy and excitement that should have accompanied the impending nuptials, Yunho couldn’t shake the sensation in his gut that something was amiss. There was a persistent unease that clung to him, a whisper in the back of his mind that the world wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.

The stark contrast between his inner turmoil and the outward celebration became even more apparent as he stepped into the vibrant atmosphere of his engagement party. The event was in full swing, alive with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Soft lights twinkled around the cozy restaurant, casting a warm glow over the guests who mingled and celebrated the joyous occasion.

Despite the festive atmosphere, Yunho found himself at odds with his fiancée. As he wove through the crowd, exchanging polite smiles and nods, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his chest. He scanned the room, his eyes finally landing on Haewon. There she was, surrounded by her friends, her laughter ringing out above the din. She looked radiant, her face flushed with happiness, but Yunho couldn’t help but notice the almost empty glass of champagne in her hand. Again.

He made his way over to her, his steps slow and deliberate. As he approached, Haewon turned and saw him, her smile widening.

“Babe! Come join us!” she slurred, her voice bright and cheerful despite her flushed state. Her friends echoed her invitation, their faces glowing with the effects of the evening’s festivities.

Yunho forced a smile, trying to mask his concern. “Hey,” he greeted, slipping an arm around Haewon’s waist. “Having a good time?”

Haewon leaned into him, her balance slightly off. “The best time!” she exclaimed, her words blending together. She raised her nearly empty glass in a toast, her eyes sparkling with the effects of the alcohol. “To us!” she cheered, and her friends joined in, raising their glasses and laughing.

Yunho’s smile wavered as he felt the weight of Haewon against him. He could smell the sharp scent of champagne on her breath, and it only deepened his worry. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said, his voice gentle but tinged with concern. “Maybe it’s time for some water, yeah?”

Haewon pouted, her expression turning petulant. “Okay, fun police,” she chided, her tone playful but with an edge of irritation. “I’m fine. Just having fun with my friends.”

One of Haewon’s friends, Sungjae, sensing Yunho’s irritation, threw an arm around him and grinned. “Come on, Yunho, let her enjoy the night. It’s a celebration, after all!” he said, a hint of condescension in his tone.

Yunho forced a tight smile, feeling the weight of Sungjae’s arm on his shoulders. “I know,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

Sungjae chuckled, giving Yunho a light squeeze. “She’s fine, man. It’s just one night. Let loose a little,” he said, his words slurring slightly. “You’re always so serious.”

“Yeah babe,” Haewon added, “Loosen up a little. Why do you care so much about what these people think?”

Yunho’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, not wanting to cause a scene. He could feel the eyes of their friends and family on them, the weight of their expectations pressing down on him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions.

“It’s not about what they think,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “It’s about us. I want to celebrate with you, not just stand on the sidelines while you’re with your friends.”

Haewon rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. “So now I’m not allowed to have fun with my friends? Is that it? I thought we were having a party, not a private event just for the two of us.” She set down her champagne flute with a sharp clink, her irritation evident.

Yunho’s face fell at her sharp words, the frustration in her tone piercing through him. He took another deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “That’s not what I’m saying. Look, we should take this outside. I don’t want us fighting in front of everyone.”

Haewon, visibly drunk, glared at Yunho with frustration. “You know what? Maybe you should’ve been more clear about what you wanted from this party,” she snapped, her voice rising. “I’m here, I’m celebrating with everyone. Now you’re just making me feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

Yunho’s shoulders sagged, frustration clouding his features as partygoers began turning their attention towards the couple. “It’s not about doing something wrong. I just wanted us to share this moment together, not have me feel like a spectator at my own engagement party.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m not going to change how I enjoy myself just because you’re having a problem with it,” she retorted, turning on her heel. Sungjae followed her out as she stormed towards the exit.

“You’re always trying to play the role of the perfect fiancé, but it’s never about what I want or how I feel,” Haewon continued, her voice echoing through the hall. “Maybe if you stopped worrying so much about everyone else and focused on what really matters, you’d see that I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

Yunho’s heart sank at her words, the warmth and joy of the engagement party now feeling hollow. The lively chatter and music of the party seemed to blur into background noise as Yunho stood alone, grappling with the weight of her accusations and the growing distance between them.

Yunho Age 20

It was the spring semester of his first year of university. You had invited him over to your dorm to study together, and he was eager to catch up with you. As he approached your room, he could hear the faint sound of music and laughter from inside.

He knocked on the door, and it swung open to reveal a lively scene. You were sitting on the floor, surrounded by books and notes, while a girl with a bright smile and sparkling eyes was dancing around the room, her energy infectious.

You looked up from your study materials, your expression shifting from concentration to playful mischief. With a grin, you held up a hand and called out, “What’s the password?”

The question was delivered with a familiar teasing tone, and Yunho’s eyes twinkled with recognition. He didn’t miss a beat. “Spidey Swings,” he answered, his voice filled with the kind of nostalgia that came from years of shared jokes and childhood memories.

“Fine, I guess you can come in.”

Yunho stepped inside, the warmth of the room and the familiarity of the password bringing a comforting sense of home. The girl, still smiling, gave him a friendly wave before resuming her lively routine. You patted the space next to you, inviting him to sit down amidst the scattered notes and textbooks.

“This is my roommate, Haewon,” you added. Haewon turned to face him, her smile widening.

“Hi, Yunho! Nice to meet you,” she greeted with a small bow. “Sorry for the mess, we were just taking a break from studying.”

Yunho shook her hand, feeling a bit overwhelmed by her vibrant presence. “Nice to meet you too,” he replied, stepping inside and setting his bag down. “I brought some snacks. Thought we might need them.”

“Perfect timing!” Haewon exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “We were just about to take a snack break!”

The three of you spent the evening studying, chatting, and laughing. Haewon’s lively personality added a new dynamic to the group, and Yunho found himself enjoying her company. She had a way of making everyone feel included and at ease, and it wasn’t long before Yunho felt like he had known her for years.

Yunho watched as Haewon discussed her passions—her enthusiasm for art, her love for literature, and her drive to make a difference in the world. There was a fire in her eyes, a passion that lit up the room and captivated Yunho. She spoke with an earnestness that was both refreshing and inspiring, weaving her dreams into the conversation with effortless grace.

As the evening progressed, Yunho found himself increasingly drawn to Haewon. Her warmth and generosity were undeniable, and he felt a growing respect and admiration for her. They exchanged stories and laughed together, and Yunho began to see Haewon not just as a friend but as someone who brought a unique and positive energy into his life.

As the night drew to a close and the room fell silent, Yunho realized the depth of his growing connection with Haewon. In the following weeks, they spent more time together, their relationship blossoming into a cornerstone of support and happiness that Yunho hadn’t known he needed.

A few weeks later, you found yourself sitting in Yunho’s dorm, watching him pace frantically. The light from his desk lamp cast long shadows, highlighting the stacks of textbooks and notes scattered around. You had come over, expecting a routine study session, but Yunho’s demeanor was different tonight—he was a nervous wreck.

Sitting at the edge of his bed, you felt a knot tighten in your stomach, sensing the gravity of the conversation ahead. You had always been there for Yunho, studying together and planning your futures, but tonight was different. Tonight, you were about to hear something that would cut deeper than you had expected.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About Haewon.” Yunho finally blurted out, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Yeah? What about her?” you asked.

Yunho took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to say what he had been holding back. “I’m planning to confess to her. I’ve realized I really care about her—a lot.”

Your heart sank. You had noticed Yunho and Haewon getting closer, but hearing him say it out loud felt like a punch to the gut. You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt.

“Oh, really? That’s great! Have you thought about how you’re going to do it?”

“Yeah, probably at the coffee shop she likes. Every time I’m with her, it just feels right. But I don’t want to ruin our friendship if she doesn’t feel the same.”

You nodded, trying to keep your emotions in check. “That sounds like a good plan. The coffee shop is a nice, relaxed place. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the thought you’ve put into it.”

You sat there for a moment, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. You had loved Yunho for as long as you could remember. His laugh, his kindness, the way he always knew how to make you smile—everything about him had captured your heart. But you had never had the courage to tell him, fearing it would ruin the friendship you cherished so much.

“Just be yourself and be honest,” you encouraged him with a reassuring smile, though the lump in your throat betrayed the flood of emotions you were trying to contain.

As Yunho continued to talk about his plans, you listened, offering support and encouragement. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling of loss, knowing that things were about to change in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

Yunho wandered aimlessly, his gaze fixed on the stars above, each one a silent witness to his regrets. His earlier confrontation with Haewon replayed in his mind—her dismissive words, the hurtful accusations and the way she had turned away with that sharp, unyielding look in her eye.

The more he thought about their argument, the more his frustration bubbled to the surface. He stopped by a bench near the waterfront of the venue, sinking onto it with a heavy sigh. The cool breeze brushed against his face, but it did little to calm the storm swirling within. Yunho stared into the darkness, struggling to make sense of the fractured emotions and the shifting dynamics in his relationship. The night seemed to stretch endlessly, a reflection of the uncertain and painful path he now faced.

He closed his eyes and for a moment wished things could be different.

First, he wished he hadn’t proposed to Haewon out of desperation, trying to salvage their deteriorating relationship. The memory of her storming out of the engagement party with Sungjae right behind her replayed in his mind, a constant reminder of his misguided attempt to hold onto something that was already slipping away.

Yunho stood nervously in the center of the beautifully decorated garden, the soft glow of fairy lights casting a magical ambiance. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint sound of a nearby fountain. Every detail had been meticulously planned—from the arrangement of the candles to the delicate petals scattered along the path. Yunho wanted this moment to be nothing short of perfect.

Is this really the right thing to do? The question echoed in the back of Yunho’s mind, a persistent whisper that refused to be silenced. The small velvet box felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket, its weight far heavier than it should be, laden with all his doubts and fears.

As Haewon approached, her eyes widened in surprise, taking in the romantic setting. Her heart raced as she realized what was about to happen. Yunho’s hands trembled slightly as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. With a deep breath, he got down on one knee, holding out the ring that symbolized his commitment to her.

Tears of joy welled up in her eyes as she looked at Yunho, her emotions overwhelming her. Her lips parted, and through her tears, she managed to say, her voice trembling with raw emotion, “Yes! Yes, Yunho,” she finally managed to say, between sobs.

The crowd of friends and family, who had been watching from a distance, erupted in cheers and applause. For Yunho and Haewon, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Please let this be enough, he silently pleaded.

But the months following the proposal were fraught with doubts, especially regarding Sungjae, Haewon’s long-time friend. Yunho couldn’t ignore the ease with which Haewon and Sungjae interacted—their shared jokes, the effortless understanding between them. It made him question if Haewon confided in Sungjae more than she did in him, and whether Sungjae had been filling emotional gaps that he hadn’t been able to for years.

Second, he regretted passing up an opportunity with the KIA Tigers for an investment baking position. The memory of that pivotal moment was etched in his mind—an offer from the Tigers, a chance to work closely with the team he had idolized for as long as he could remember, slipping through his fingers because he had chosen to pursue a more secure, yet uninspiring, career in finance.

He remembered the excitement in his voice as he spoke about the possibility of becoming a scout, the chance to blend his passion for baseball with a professional role. It had felt like the ultimate dream, a convergence of his personal passion and career ambitions. But when the time came to make a choice, he recalled the pressure he felt from his family to choose a path with financial stability, their voices echoing in his mind with phrases like "responsible choice" and "practical future."

Their expectations, though well-intentioned, had overshadowed his own aspirations. The investment banking opportunity, with its promise of stability, was seen as a safer bet, a way to meet his family's expectations and ensure a secure future.

Now, as he sat alone by the waterfront, he could almost hear the cheers from the ballpark, feel the crack of the bat and the thrill of the game that he had sacrificed for the illusion of financial security. It was a safe choice, a pragmatic one, but it lacked the excitement and fulfillment he had once envisioned. Each day at the desk felt like a reminder of a dream deferred, a passion left unpursued.

And lastly, he wished you were still here. Yunho missed your presence more than he could convey. You had a way of making him feel grounded, no matter how chaotic life became. He often thought about the times you spent together, laughing over silly jokes or sharing deep conversations late into the night. You were his best friend, the one person he could always lean on, telling him that everything would be fine.

That night, Yunho didn’t return to his apartment—he couldn't, especially not after his fight with Haewon. Instead, he found himself on the highway, the city lights fading in his rearview mirror as he made the long drive back to his parents' house. The place where he grew up. The place that, no matter how much time had passed, still held a part of him.

The house was quiet when he arrived, his parents long asleep after leaving the party earlier in the evening. It felt strange to be back here, like stepping into a time capsule where everything had remained the same even as he had changed.

He climbed the stairs slowly, each step bringing back memories of late-night chats with you on the phone, trying to keep his voice down so his parents wouldn’t hear. When he reached his old bedroom, he hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. It had been so long since he'd been in this room, yet the moment he opened the door, it was like he had never left.

Everything was still in place—his bed, neatly made with the same comforter he’d had since high school. His desk and walls were cluttered with the remnants of his teenage years: baseball memorabilia, trophies from tournaments, and framed photos of his high school baseball team. He noticed a few with you in them, your smile always bright and full of life.

His gaze landed on a polaroid nestled between a postcard and a team photo. It was of you and him, taken years ago when you were probably 8 or 9. The two of you were sitting on the steps leading up to Mt. Bukhansan, grinning with a mix of pride and exhaustion. You had insisted on taking the picture because it was the first big hike you’d done together.

The polaroid was worn, the edges slightly frayed from years of being handled. Yunho’s thumb brushed over your smiling face, a bittersweet ache settling in his chest. You were so young, so carefree—neither of you had any idea how much your lives would change, how much you would lose.

It was then that he noticed a small, battered box tucked under his desk, nearly hidden by an old baseball bat leaning against the chair. Curiosity piqued, Yunho knelt down to pull the box out into the open. He sifted through years of ticket stubs, notebooks, and magazines–each item bringing back a memory, a fleeting image of the life he once had.

And then he saw it.

At the bottom of the box, beneath the pile of knicknacks, was a leather-bound book. It was worn, the corners frayed and the spine slightly cracked. Yunho’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized it immediately. This was your journal—the one you had carried with you everywhere, always scribbling something inside, your thoughts, your dreams, your frustrations.

Yunho’s fingers traced the edges of the pages before he flipped it open, revealing the sketches you had created over the years. Your talent for art was undeniable, yet you had always hesitated to pursue it professionally, fearing that turning your passion into a livelihood might extinguish the joy it brought you.

He stopped to look at one of his portraits. You had captured him perfectly, every line and shadow carefully rendered with an artist’s precision. His eyes, his smile—everything about the sketch was so vivid, so full of life. But it wasn’t just the accuracy of the drawing that struck him; it was the way you had drawn him, the way you had seen him.

In the drawing, Yunho looked confident staring out into the outfield, his expression relaxed and warm. There was a softness in his eyes, a quiet strength that you had always admired but that he had never really seen in himself.

Your sudden disappearance at 22 had been both bewildering and devastating.

It was your father who first noticed the gaps in your routine. You regularly checked in with your parents, recounting your day, the kind of photos you’d taken in your photography course, to the kind of food that was being served in the cafeteria. When a day passed without your usual call, he brushed it off as a busy day. But when two days went by, his concern grew.

“Have you heard from Y/N?” your father had asked Yunho, his voice laced with worry when he couldn’t get a hold of you. Yunho, who had been preoccupied with his own life, felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t heard from you either, not since your last argument.

When Yunho confessed he hadn’t, his worry deepened. He tried calling you multiple times, but each call went straight to voicemail. Panic started to set in. He stopped by your apartment and checked your social media, but there were no new posts, no updates. It was as if you had vanished.

Your family coordinated with the police, attending briefings and following up on every lead. Their days were filled with frustration as false tips and unconfirmed sightings piled up, each one a fleeting hope that crumbled into disappointment. The news of your disappearance even made local headlines, capturing the concern and sympathy of the public.

“Tonight at 6:00, we bring you a developing story that has left authorities baffled. The sudden disappearance of 22-year-old Lee Y/N has sparked a widespread search effort. Y/N was last seen on the evening of November 11th, following a night with friends. Concerned family and friends reported her missing after she failed to return home and did not respond to calls or messages. Law enforcement officials are actively investigating and following up on all leads as the search continues. Stay tuned for more updates on this unfolding situation.”

As the months turned into years, the intensity of the search began to wane. The once-hopeful posters and media coverage faded into the background of daily life, leaving your parents in a painful limbo of uncertainty. Each passing day without news felt like an eternity, their hearts heavy with the ache of your absence.

He carefully placed the journal back into the box, closing the lid before crawling into bed.

After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, he finally gave up. The stillness of the room felt suffocating, the darkness pressing in on him from all sides. He needed air, needed to move, to do something—anything—to quiet the storm inside him.

The night was calm, the streets empty, and for a moment, Yunho felt a strange sense of peace. The world was asleep, and in the stillness, he could almost pretend that everything was okay.

He started walking, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet. The familiar sights of the neighborhood, usually bustling with activity during the day, now seemed serene, bathed in the gentle glow of the streetlights. As he wandered through the quiet streets, lost in thought, he found himself pausing at a familiar corner. His footsteps slowed as he glanced across the street, where your childhood home stood.

Yunho's heart ached as he looked at the house. He remembered how close you had been, how your home had been a second haven for him growing up. It was where you had shared countless memories, where you had talked for hours about everything and nothing. The house seemed like a monument to the past, a place frozen in time while he struggled to move forward without you.

The night breeze carried the scent of jasmine and incense, luring him toward a small park—the one he had often visited with you and his brother Gunho during happier days. He inhaled deeply, letting the soothing aroma momentarily distract him from his worries. His eyes shot open, snapping out of his dreamlike haze as he looked around, feeling an inexplicable pull drawing him toward something unseen.

As he turned, a storefront appeared—as if by magic. The building was unlike any he had seen before, its traditional façade glowing softly in the dim light, surrounded by an overhang of flowers forming a vibrant canopy.

He took a hesitant step forward, then another, drawn by an inexplicable force that seemed to tug at his very soul. Each step felt both heavy and light, as if he were walking through a dream. The soft glow from the storefront bathed him in a warm, inviting light, contrasting sharply with the cool night air.

Cautious and intrigued, Yunho’s heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the gentle hum of energy emanating from the shop, a subtle vibration that resonated deep within him. The same scent of jasmine and incense, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace, urging him to continue.

As he approached the door, he paused, his hand hovering just inches from the brass knocker. The wood felt warm, almost alive. Taking a deep breath, he touched the door, feeling a slight tingle run up his arm.

Yunho pushed the door open, revealing shelves filled with an array of curious objects—ancient books with gilded covers and delicate glass bottles filled with clouds of stardust. Above, the ceiling was a marvel: an expansive skylight with intricately patterned glass panels allowed a cascade of soft, dappled light to filter through an enchanting tapestry of hanging plants and flowers.

He quickly realized he had crossed a threshold into a realm where the ordinary rules of reality no longer applied.

“Welcome to the Astral Emporium.”

He whipped around, trying to locate the source of the voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

“Down here!”

His gaze landed on a black cat with an elegant red ribbon fastened around its neck. The ribbon’s vibrant hue contrasted sharply with the cat’s inky fur, and his onyx eyes glowed with an otherworldly intelligence. The cat cleared its throat, a sound that was oddly formal and out of place coming from such a small creature.

Yunho blinked in surprise, his confusion evident. “You can talk!?” he exclaimed, his eyes widening as he crouched down to get a closer look at the feline. The cat regarded him with an air of casual indifference, its tail flicking lightly.

“Didn’t you hear me when you walked in?” the cat replied, its tone almost bored, as if it were used to the astonished reactions of newcomers.

“You’re talking. A cat... is talking. How is that even possible?”

The cat stretched languidly, its body arching gracefully.“This is a realm of possibilities,” he yawned, revealing sharp, white teeth and a pink tongue. His voice was a deep, resonant purr that seemed to vibrate through the air. “The rules of reality are… somewhat relaxed. So, are you here to have a wish granted or what?”

“Wooyoung, stop giving the traveler a hard time,” came a soft, melodic voice from behind.

Yunho’s breath caught in his throat. He knew that voice, a voice he thought he’d never hear again. His eyes widened as emotions coursed through him—hope, disbelief, and a deep longing.

“Y/N?” he whispered, the name trembling on his lips, as if saying it aloud would shatter the fragile moment.

The moment you stepped into the light, your elaborate dress captivated his attention. The silk skirt flowed gracefully to the floor, adorned with intricate patterns of iridescent clouds that shimmered softly in the ambient glow. The vibrant hues of the jacket draped over your shoulders contrasted beautifully with the delicate floral embroidery that wound its way across the fabric.

You chuckled softly, the sound as gentle as a breeze through the leaves. “I’m sorry, traveler, my familiar is quite the cheeky one.”

As you moved, the tassels of your ornate hairpin clinked softly in your side-swept chignon, creating a gentle, melodic chime with each step. You circled Yunho with a curious gaze, your eyes sparkling with intrigue.

He blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback. His gaze flickered from the elongated smoking pipe in your hand to the enigmatic expression on your face, trying to determine if it was all an illusion. His mind raced, grappling with the impossible reality before him.

“Y/N,” Yunho began, reaching out slightly “is it really you?”

You were the same, yet different—there was a newfound confidence in your posture and a whimsical glint in your eyes that he hadn’t seen before. His heart pounded in his chest, torn between relief and confusion.

“I have many names, unfortunately Y/N is not one of them.” You watched him with sympathy, recognizing the skepticism in his eyes. “It seems you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“No, you have to be Y/N.” Yunho’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, the question hanging heavily in the air. His breath hitched as he watched you, his mind struggling to reconcile the familiarity of your face with the strangeness of your words. “Wait! What’s your favorite baseball team?”

You tilted your head, a puzzled expression crossing your face. “Baseball?”

Yunho’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. He felt a crushing sense of defeat, his hope slipping away like sand through his fingers. “I don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You took a deep breath, your expression softening with an empathy that was both comforting and sorrowful. “I’m simply a keeper of this place, bound to fulfill the wishes of travelers like yourself. This place, and my role within it, has existed for far longer than either of us can imagine.”

The thought that this could be another version of you—someone who looked and spoke like you, but wasn’t the same person he once knew—was unbearable. How could he accept that the best friend he believed he lost forever could exist in a form that wasn’t entirely the same?

“So why am I here?” he asked, his voice tinged with defeat.

“The shop responded to your call,” you sighed softly, as an intricate counter materialized before you, its surface adorned with dragons soaring through the clouds. Leaning against it, you rested your chin in one hand, while the other held the pipe, from which a wisp of smoke curled lazily into the air.

Yunho’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean it responded to my call?”

“The shop exists in a realm between the supernatural and the living, responding to the energy of your desires. It sensed that you possessed a strong desire for something and made its presence known.”

“A desire?” Yunho’s gaze drifted to the counter, the dragons seeming to move and shift as if alive.

You smiled gently, the smoke from your pipe forming delicate patterns in the air. “A wish. Not quite like the fairy tales, but wishes are the desires that reside deep within your heart. They can be as simple as wanting a moment of peace or as complex as seeking a purpose in life.”

“And as for who grants the wishes,” you continued, leaning in slightly, “that would be me. Travelers usually refer to me as a witch.”

Yunho swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “How do you grant wishes?”

“The process is simple,” you explained, your tone both gentle and firm. “For a wish to be granted, you must exchange something of equal value in return.”

“What kind of exchange?” Yunho asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

You took a slow, deliberate puff from your pipe, the smoke curling around you like a protective veil. “It depends,” you replied, twirling your pipe between your bejeweled fingers. “Sometimes it’s a memento, a cherished item that holds personal significance. In ancient times, travelers might have offered a blood sacrifice, though we’ve moved beyond such extremes. The more powerful the wish, the more it exacts in return. The magic here is potent and unpredictable, and it demands balance.”

His eyes widened, the weight of your words sinking in. “So, I have to give up something important to me?”

“Not necessarily,” you confirmed, your gaze steady. “The shop only takes what you are willing to offer. The choice is always yours, though I caution that you cannot take back a wish once it’s been granted.”

Yunho didn’t know why his thoughts drift back to that fateful night. Maybe it was because it was the last memory he had of you before everything changed. The words you exchanged, the hurt in your eyes, replayed in his mind like a haunting echo. He wondered if things could have been different, if he had just made a different choice, said something else.

You were at Yunho’s apartment, enjoying a rare evening of relaxation. The soft hum of conversation and laughter filled the room as Yunho's friends mingled. You were perched on the couch, absorbed in your sketchbook, the quiet joy of drawing grounding you amidst the cheerful chaos.

The tranquility was shattered when Sungjae, ever a thorn in Yunho’s side, staggered over. His inebriated state was evident; he moved with a lack of coordination that drew your attention only when he was almost upon you. Without warning, Sungjae lurched forward, his hand grabbing the edge of your journal with a clumsy urgency.

“What’s this?” he slurred, his voice a mix of drunken curiosity and derision. He dangled the open pages in front of you, the sketch of Yunho exposed and vulnerable.

“What the fuck are you doing? Give it back!” you demanded, trying to reach for the journal, but Sungjae was too quick, his movements fueled by liquid courage.

“You’re always scribbling in this book,” Sungjae sneered, flipping through the pages with exaggerated, careless motions. “What’s the big deal?”

Your frustration surged. “Seriously, Sungjae, just give it back!” you urged, your voice rising. The journal was more than just sketches to you; it was a reflection of your thoughts, your feelings—an intimate part of yourself you’d chosen to share with no one but yourself.

He brought the journal closer to his face, a cruel smirk spreading across his lips as he turned the pages. “Yunho! Hey Yunho! Check this out!” Sungjae’s voice cut through the room, mocking and loud.

Yunho looked up from his conversation with Mingi, confusion and concern crossing his face as he saw Sungjae holding your journal. He began to walk over, but the unease in his eyes was clear as he approached.

Sungjae flipped through the pages with exaggerated movements, revealing sketch after sketch of Yunho. “Look at this!” he laughed, his voice dripping with mockery as he showed Yunho your illustrations. “You’ve got a whole gallery dedicated to him!” He turned to face you, your cheeks burning with fury. “What are you, obsessed with him or something?”

“It’s not like that,” you protested, reaching for the journal again. Your fingers brushed the edge of the book, but Sungjae yanked it out of your grasp, his laughter growing louder.

“Oh, come on. You’re totally in love with him, aren’t you? That’s why you’re always drawing like some kind of freak!” His voice dripped with contempt, and his words felt like a dagger to your heart. He tossed your journal aside carelessly, the soft thud echoing in the now silent room.

You immediately snatched the journal and held it securely against your chest before storming towards the door. The once warm and inviting apartment now felt like a stark reminder of the awkwardness and discomfort that had unfolded. The laughter and easy conversations from earlier seemed like a distant memory, eclipsed by the confrontation with Sungjae.

As you moved toward the door, Yunho approached you, his expression a mix of concern and hesitance. “Hey, let me walk you out,” he said, his voice softer than before.

You nodded, appreciating the gesture despite the uneasy atmosphere. The two of you left in silence out into the night, the noise of the party grew fainter, replaced by the subtle thrum of the city.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” Yunho said quietly, his eyes locked on the ground as he stuck his hands into his pockets. He kicked a stray pebble, watching it roll away.

“You’re sorry?” you snapped, your voice shaking with hurt as you spun around to face him. “If you were really sorry, you’d have done something about that asshole.”

The tension in his shoulders was palpable as he shot back, “What do you expect me to do, Y/N? I can’t come to your rescue every single time!” Yunho’s tone was edged with frustration, and the defensiveness in his voice was unmistakable.

“I’m not asking you to rescue me!” you shouted. The anger in your voice grew sharper, your hands clenched into fists. “I’m asking you to stand up for me, to not let some asshole humiliate me in front of everyone in your own apartment!”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault because I didn’t want to start a scene? I’m trying to keep the peace here!”

“Keep the peace?” you shouted, your voice breaking as your tears spilled over. “Is that what you call it? Keeping the peace by standing there like a coward and letting someone walk all over me?”

“He’s Haewon’s friend. What was I supposed to do?” Yunho’s tone was clipped, each word laced with his own frustration.

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him, feeling the weight of his indifference. “Are you seriously telling me that your girlfriend’s shitty friend matters more than me? You don’t even like him, Yunho!”

Yunho looked away, his jaw set in a hard line. “Haewon’s friends are important to her, and I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

A bitter laugh escaped you, but it quickly turned into a choked sob. “So fuck my feelings, right?” you said, your voice trembling as tears streamed down your face. “You’d rather protect that asshole than stand up for me?”

Yunho’s eyes finally met yours, but they were empty, cold, devoid of the warmth you once knew. “She’s my girlfriend, Y/N. I have to prioritize her!” He spat, his voice growing harsher. “And maybe if you weren’t such a loser, always clinging to that stupid journal, you wouldn’t be in this mess! You’re so embarrassing, it’s pathetic.”

You felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under you. The words cut deep, each one a dagger to your heart. You took a shaky breath, the pain piercing through you.

“The truth finally comes out,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the agony gripping your heart.

For a fleeting moment, Yunho’s expression softened, as if he realized just how cruel his words had been. But the apology you desperately needed never came. He just stood there, silent and distant, his eyes refusing to meet yours, the coldness in his gaze now replaced by a hollow emptiness that only deepened your pain.

Feeling utterly betrayed, you turned away, your vision blurred by tears. Each step you took felt heavier than the last, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a physical burden. The person you thought would always have your back had just torn you apart.

In a moment of despair, you tossed your journal into the nearest trash bin. The hollow thud it made echoed in your ears, a haunting reminder of how irrevocably your trust had been shattered. It didn’t matter if the world saw your deepest thoughts; the one you trusted the most had already broken your heart.

Yunho watched in stunned silence as you turned away, your shoulders trembling with the weight of your emotions. He had never seen you like this—so broken, so hurt. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless, but still, he remained frozen, helpless to do anything as you retreated further into the night.

Then he heard it. The hollow thud of the journal hitting the bottom of the bin echoed in the night air. It was a sound that would haunt him for years to come—a sound that marked the moment everything between you changed. Yunho stood there, staring at the trash bin long after you had disappeared from his view.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he forced himself to take a step forward. His hands shook as he approached the bin, and he felt a lump form in his throat as he looked down at your journal, lying there among the discarded remnants of the day. Without thinking, he reached in and retrieved it, tucking it protectively into his side.

He sank onto a nearby bench, the cold metal seeping through his clothes, but he barely noticed. The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city, and the stars above seemed indifferent to his suffering.

Yunho cradled the journal to his chest, feeling the weight of its significance. This wasn’t just a collection of pages; it was a piece of your heart that he had let Sungjae, with his sharp words and cruelty, tear it apart.

Now, all that was left were the remnants of what once was, and the haunting realization that he had played a part in its destruction.

ii >>

taglist: @babymbbatinygirl

#ateez #ateez fanfic #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho x you #ateez fic #modern au #ateez au #magic au #yunho #ateez imagines #yunho angst #forget me not #supernatural au

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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 5 months

Text

sᴡᴇᴀᴛʏ

screencaps and gifs: @din-jarring They're truly amazing, the best! Their inspiring presence sparked the creation of this story, bringing characters to life in a remarkable way. I highly recommend checking them out—they're a beacon of talent and inspiration! 💕✨️💕

Pairing: Jaiver Peña x fem!reader

Summary: In hot weather, Javier and you get cozy on his couch. The broken AC doesn't stop the heat between you two in any way, shape or form.

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, degradation, praise, male moaning, breeding kink, kissing, oral M and F receiving, face sitting, alcohol consumption, power dynamics, explicit language,Unprotected sex wrap it before you tap it, kids. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

WC: 2.7K

The midday sun bore down relentlessly upon Javier's apartment, defying any hopes of cool respite. Despite his efforts, the small space offered little relief from the Colombian heat. Javier reclined on the worn tan couch, a cold beer in hand, his brow glistening with sweat. You surrendered to the stifling atmosphere, abandoning any notion of productivity to join Javier on the couch.

With a sigh of relief, Javier popped the top off a cold beer, the droplets of condensation offering a tantalizing promise of refreshment amidst the stifling heat. As you fanned yourself with a magazine, attempting to alleviate the oppressive warmth, a complaint about the temperature slipped from your lips. "It's so hot I can barely breathe," you remarked, turning to face Javier.

Despite the discomfort, Javier remained effortlessly attractive, even with sweat causing his hair to cling to his forehead. You met his gaze before setting the magazine aside and peeling off your sweater, revealing the tank top underneath. The relief of shedding layers was immediate, the cool fabric offering a welcome change from the heat of the sweater.

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes as you leaned back, resting your head against the soft cushion of Javier's couch. Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead, tracing a path down to your chest and seeping into the fabric of your tank top. You were almost certain that your nipples were poking through the fabric of your tank top. Bras felt like torture chambers for your breasts, so you rarely wore them, and today was no exception.

You heard some movement beside you and opened your eyes to find Javi had taken his shirt off. He was fit, but not fit enough to deny cake, that was for sure. A blush crept onto your cheeks at the sight, and Javi, catching your reaction, quipped, "What? Can I not take my shirt off as well?”

Your cheeks flamed even hotter, and you stuttered, "N-no, I mean, yeah, of course you can..." Your words trailed off as you struggled to regain your composure, feeling the heat rise to your face. Javi chuckled at your flustered state, his easy grin melting any lingering tension. "Relax, it's just too damn hot," he said, gesturing towards the sweltering room.

Feeling somewhat relieved by his casual response, you managed to compose yourself enough to ask, "Um, is the AC on?"

Javi nodded, understanding your concern, and got up to check the air conditioning unit. After a moment, he returned, frustration etched on his face.

"It's broken," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Guess we'll have to tough it out until I can get someone to fix it."

You groaned inwardly, feeling a fresh wave of heat wash over you at the news. "Great," you muttered, resigning yourself to the sweltering heat that seemed determined to cling to every corner of the apartment.

Javi began by slipping off his shoes, followed by the removal of his pants. "Well, I'm getting comfortable," he stated casually, his voice echoing in the room. Your cheeks flushed as Javi continued to undress before you, each movement captivating your attention. As he started to take off his pants, you couldn't resist stealing a glance at the prominent outline in his boxers.

Looking up at him from your seated position, you found yourself mesmerized by his presence. Standing before you, Javi exuded an aura of confidence that was almost intoxicating. His demeanor sent a shiver down your spine, stirring a heat within you that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

Standing before you in just his boxers, Javi's half-hard dick was unmistakably visible, his smirk betraying his bold intentions. Without a hint of shame, he openly admired your breasts, his gaze filled with desire. "You have no idea how much I want you right now," he confessed, his voice husky with longing.

In response, you met Javi's gaze with a coy expression, your hands gently resting on your thigh. "Javi?" you murmured, seeking clarity or perhaps a moment of hesitation in his eyes.

Meeting your gaze with unbridled lust, Javi's response was unapologetically direct. "Do you know how much I would pay to fuck right now?" he whispered, the intensity of his desire palpable in the air between you.

You brought one of your hands up to his thigh, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. "How much?" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. With a daring move, your hand traced the line of his boxers, pushing the fabric lower exposing more of his curly little happy trail. Your gaze met his with an intensity that mirrored your desire, those same sweet eyes inviting him closer.

In response, Javi's hand moved to caress the back of your head, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. The air between you crackled with anticipation, each touch igniting a fiery longing that begged to be quenched.

As his soft touch swiftly changed, Javi's demeanor shifted, his grip on your hair becoming firmer, almost commanding. With a forceful tug, he compelled your head to tilt back, exposing the vulnerable curve of your throat. Leaning in closer, his face mere inches from yours, he exuded an intensity that left you breathless.

In the charged silence that followed, Javi's voice was a low, husky whisper against your ear. "How much? Enough to make you forget your own name, baby," he declared, his words a potent blend of desire and possession. And with that declaration hanging in the air, your lips finally crashed with his, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you melted into each other on the couch, the world outside fading into obscurity as you surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of desire. Every touch, every kiss was an affirmation of the intense connection between you, each moment building upon the next until you were both consumed by an insatiable hunger for one another.

He lowered you onto your back, his weight pressing deliciously against you as he moved over the top of you, his lips trailing soft kisses along your neck. But as his advances intensified, you pushed him off gently, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you rose to your feet, leaving Javi looking confused.

"If you're paying..." you began, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you dropped to your knees before him, your hands caressing his thighs and stomach teasingly. "I should be extra caring towards you," you continued, your voice dripping with playful seduction. "You know, Javi, you're just..."

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi cut you off abruptly, his grip on your hair tight as he pulled you closer. "Suck my dick or I'm not paying you anything," he commanded, his tone firm and demanding. With a silent nod, you complied, reaching to pull Javi's dick out of his boxers.

Javi may have been a cocky asshole, but he had good reason to be. His dick was at least the size of a coke can, a fact that was impossible to ignore. With a small spit into your hand, you began to stroke his impressive length softly, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Drawing closer to him, you licked his shaft a few times before softly sucking on the pinkish tip, humming as you did so.

Javi, eager for more, used his hand to guide your mouth further down his dick. Taking the hint, you accepted the challenge, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could manage, even if it felt like your mouth might split in half. With one hand still working his shaft, you moved the other to his balls, gently fondling them as you continued to please him. A sweet sound escaped Javi's lips in response, spurring you on to suck a little more of him into your mouth.

As your lips enveloped him, Javi's hips instinctively lifted, driving himself deeper into your mouth. The sudden intrusion made you gag slightly, but you fought to maintain your composure, meeting his gaze with glossy eyes filled with a mixture of desire and determination. Sensing your reaction, Javi's movements became more deliberate, his thrusts growing softer and more controlled as he found a rhythm that suited both of you.

With each movement, you adjusted, finding your own pace to match his, the sensation of him filling your mouth and sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. As he continued to thrust, you shifted your focus, using one hand to gently massage and fondle his balls, adding an extra layer of stimulation that drove him wild with desire.

As Javi's hips stilled, he let out a low, guttural moan, the sound sending a thrill coursing through you. "God damn," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "Get on my dick. If I'm paying, I'm cumming inside of you."

You continued to softly suck on his dick, your lips trailing teasingly along his length as you listened to his words. His moans were like music to your ears, each sound fueling the fire burning between you. With a deliberate pop, you released his dick from your mouth, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you shed your pants and underwear, revealing the extent of your arousal. You were soaked, the evidence of your desire glistening on your skin.

Noticing the hunger in Javi's gaze, you felt a surge of excitement rush through you. He leaned forward, his lips pressing against your stomach in a hungry kiss before his hands gripped your upper thighs, guiding you to straddle his face. Your pussy hovered tantalizingly over his mouth, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine as you felt the tickle of his mustache against your inner thighs.

"Ready to forget your name?" Javi said smugly, his words sending a thrill of anticipation through you. Without waiting for a response, he placed a direct kiss on your clit, his tongue expertly finding the sensitive area with ease.

Javi's tongue worked its magic on your clit, setting off an explosion of pleasure that made you arch your back in ecstasy. Waves of sensation rippled through your entire body, leaving you gasping for air as Javi's precise movements brought you closer to the edge.

With each passing second, you felt yourself unraveling under the intensity of Javi's touch. The world around you faded away as you surrendered to the pleasure he bestowed upon you. His lips and tongue moved with a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart, pushing you toward the brink of desire-fueled madness.

As the heat between you intensified, a primal need for release consumed your every thought. Your fingers gripped the fabric of the couch as you rode the wave of pleasure, feeling it threaten to overwhelm you completely.

In a final, desperate cry of ecstasy, you shattered into a million pieces, consumed by the overwhelming bliss of climax. Javi's name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper as you succumbed to the ecstasy that washed over you, your body trembling with the force of your release.

With a smirk playing on his now arousal-covered face, Javi gently lowered your legs before positioning you to straddle him. There was a fleeting moment of pure bliss in his gaze as he looked at you, his eyes filled with desire. Your lips met in a passionate kiss as he began to insert his sizable cock into you, eliciting a moan from your lips at the delicious stretch.

You weren't a stranger to intimacy, but the sheer girth of him made you gasp in pleasure. Javi's reputation was well-deserved, and as he filled you, you couldn't help but marvel at the intensity of sensation coursing through your body. Once you were fully seated on his dick, a deep, guttural moan escaped your lips, the sound muffled as Javi pulled you close to his chest.

The scent of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, the room's humidity rising with each passionate movement shared between you and Javi. It was as if the very atmosphere around you was charged with the heat of your desire, amplifying the intensity of your connection.

You started to move your hips a little faster, grinding against him as your breasts pressed tantalizingly against his chest. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, aching to find that perfect spot inside of you that promised pure ecstasy. Javi held you close, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided your movements, his desire evident in the way he met your rhythm.

With a low groan, Javi shifted his legs to rest on the coffee table in front of him, angling himself to better thrust into you. The change in position sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine as you felt him plunge deeper inside you, the sensation overwhelming yet utterly intoxicating. Javi's groan mingled with your moans of pleasure.

Javi released his hold on you, his hands moving to your hips, ensuring you were perfectly settled upright on his dick. A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden change, the sensation of him hitting that sweet spot sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your entire being. Javi could feel your grip tightening around him, a sure sign that he had found the spot that drove you wild.

With a primal intensity, Javi began to pound up into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. His hands held you firmly in place as you braced yourself against his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you clung to him for dear life. Your moans grew louder with each passing moment, a symphony of desire that filled the room.

As the coil of pleasure tightened in your stomach, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With a loud cry, you felt the wave of orgasm crashing over you, your body trembling with the force of it. You buried your face in Javi's shoulder, overcome with the intensity of sensation coursing through you.

Javi, sensing your release, slowed his thrusts, not wanting to overstimulate you. "Awe, giving up so soon?" he teased, his voice husky with desire. "What am I paying you for?" But even as he spoke, the desire in his eyes burned brightly.

As Javi's hips drove upwards with a relentless urgency, the sheer force of his movements sent you spiraling further into ecstasy. Your head fell back, exposing your neck to the heated air as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you trembling in their wake. With each thrust, your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

His voice, thick with desire, reached your ears like a primal growl, stirring something deep within you. "You like that, huh?" Javi's words were more of a statement than a question, his tone dripping with satisfaction as he watched your reactions with hungry eyes. The way he took you, possessing you with every thrust, ignited a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Unable to form coherent words, you could only manage a breathless nod in response, your body responding to his touch with a fervor that bordered on desperation. With each thrust, the coil of pleasure tightened in your stomach, the anticipation of release driving you to the brink of oblivion.

As the intensity of your connection reached its peak, Javi's movements became more frenzied, driving you both toward the edge of ecstasy. With a final, desperate cry, you felt the wave of orgasm crashing over you, your body convulsing with the force of it as you surrender yourself fully to the pleasure.

And then, in that moment of pure bliss, you felt him release inside you, his hot seed spilling deep within your core. The sensation of him pulsing within you sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, amplifying the intensity of your climax until you were both consumed by the sheer ecstasy of it all.

He slid out of you, his movements slow and deliberate, before pulling you into his arms on the couch. You couldn't help but giggle at the playful exchange as he reached for his wallet. "So, how much?" he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"100 dollars," you replied with a mischievous grin, teasing him with the modest amount.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he regarded you fondly. "You're worth more than that," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine affection. With a playful flick of his wrist, he tossed his wallet in your direction before leaning back against the cushions, a smirk playing on his lips.

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saradika · 1 year

Text

— BLEED FOR ME | part ii

[masterlist]

mand’alor!vampire!din djarin x f!reader

rated e - 3.4k

haunted hoedown prompts: vampire!au + “i would burn the world for you.” + vampire has a taste for specific blood + revenge + (one-sided) enemies to lovers (+ 1 to be revealed!)

tags: vampire!au, drinking blood, reader has scar on shoulder, mentions of death, shared memories, light angst

He fills the doorway, as silent as he was downstairs.

Lingering there as you try to keep your breathing under control. A second where you wonder if he saw, if he suspected - your hands clasped together on your lap to stay the tremor.

Preparing for his wrath.

Not ready for the way he waits, his low voice asking for your permission to enter the room.

For the way he comes quietly to you after - the glove that finally reaches, touches. Tipping your chin up again, like she had.

So carefully, a knuckle curved under your chin. As if he’s afraid you’ll break.

His helmet tilts, the smallest movements as he takes you in.

“You don’t have to do this.”

The Mand’alor’s voice is low - soft and distorted through the helmet. Not what you were expecting, but the words make your blood turn to ice.

Don’t have to do what? Your stomach churns as you think that he did see you - the twitch of your hand as you wonder if you could manage, if you could reach-

“I chose you,” His voice breaks the silence again. “But if you’re unwilling, I won’t feed. If it’s money you need, I’ll see that you’ve taken care of. I’ll find someone else.”

It’s so entirely unexpected. A nervous glance sent his way - and for a second, you wished there were eyes to meet. An opportunity to truly read him, for why would someone so heartless offer an alternative?

But you need him to take it. To take you - his armor shed and his defenses down, so you can put an end to this.

You deserved it, didn’t you? Revenge on the man who had stolen your home from you. The cozy life you had led, in the little cottage at the edge of the village.

It’s just a pile of stone, now.

Too much time had been spent getting to this moment for you to accept his offer, even as tempting as it is.

Because you couldn’t live here, surrounded in this finery. Playing a pet, while they depended on you.

The ones who had found you. Choking on smoke and half-dazed at the edge of the forest. Helping you up from where you were slumped against the base of that old, oak tree.

Swept until their wing after the destruction. There had been no place left for you, as the morning dawn creeped into afternoon.

You had barely escaped with your life.

And soon after, the plan was formed. If you could take down their leader, the rest would fall. Their whispers reeking of vengeance, sinking its talons into your skin.

Convincing you that you deserved it, didn’t you?

Uncertainty has kept you awake, in those days as you had thought it over. Because things could be rebuilt. The world was a vast place - you could start over.

But then they told you that this happened, often. That the vampires would crush small towns like yours, looking to feed. Leaving behind only silent memories and ghosts.

That is what got you. And it’s that thought turned into a knowing, a certainty.

You can’t let that happen to someone else.

Days of training turned into weeks, and then months. Then, a year.

Because it had to be you - there was too much history for any of the Slayers to do it. They’d be recognized a mile off.

Learning how they fight, until the weight of the silver dagger on your hip brought comfort.

“Wait until he’s distracted.”

“Do whatever it takes, just make sure-”

“Make sure you don’t trust him.”

“Not a single word.”

And finally, it had been time. You had three moons - until the winter solstice. After that, the vampires would keep inside for the Long Sleep, and not be seen until Spring.

If you did not complete your task in time, then you’d be trapped with them. If you succeeded too late, you’d freeze in the cold before you got far.

The sharpened piece of wood had been shoved into your hand, this morning.

“Run this through his heart.”

“Rip off his head. Burn him.”

“Trap him with the sun.”

Their advice hummed beneath your skin, as you had approached the castle. Your plans had been a heavy weight in your stomach, twisting with the unease at what you have to do.

To offer yourself up to a vampire was no mere feat.

But when that vampire was a Mandalorian, encased in that shining armor, it was all but madness.

It was no secret that he sought blood. That offerings were brought to him, almost always turned away.

No one could sate his thirst. He had paid no mind to the others that were ushered in with you. You had wondered if he could smell your deception, clinging to your skin.

But he had chosen you.

And if this is how you had to pay them back, you would.

Your head shakes, as you make your decision, "I… I am willing."

There's a second of silence, as if he wants to press. As if he's not sure, himself.

But then he's carefully tugging off the rust-tipped gloves, lowering himself onto the ottoman near the desk. Leaving the leather to rest on his thigh armor as his hands come into view.

You hold your breath.

But there’s no sharp claws, no blood caked under nails, no fur or scales.

It's just a hand. Tanned skin and human, as far as you can tell.

It eases some of the apprehension, though your heart still races from almost being caught. At the thought of this next part - the pain of the bite and the fire in your veins.

You had been told to be brave. To grit your teeth and work through it - that it was something you'd have to learn to bear, if you were to get close to him.

But the thought of it, that anticipation, has your muscles strung tight. It takes more effort than you'd like to admit for your head to tilt to the side, for you to bare your neck to him.

He takes your wrist, instead.

A large hand wrapping around, his thumb pressing against the place where your pulse pounds. Something hot and electric arcing through you at his touch, though his skin is cool against yours.

"Thank you." The Mand'alor tells you, and there’s a depth to his words as he's lifts the edge of his helmet.

Just to his nose, and no further. He's human here, too - a pretty curve of lips framed by dark facial hair. Your eyes linger, realizing this is a sight that near-none had seen. Curiosity sparking, until those lips are parting.

And the two sharp fangs come into view, instead.

It has you tensing, as his grip tightens - that thumb smoothing over your skin. Almost soothing in its movement, though you can't comprehend why.

"Just a pinch." He murmurs, "You'll be alright."

You huff a breath at his words just as his head dips down to your wrist - and then, he's biting down.

There's a sharp ache as his fangs pierce your skin, and you wait for more. For the feeling of being sliced open, the burn of the venom, for your bones to crack beneath his teeth.

But, none comes.

Just the sensation of pulling, the buzz of his mouth against your skin as he groans, deep in his chest. The sound sends heat to your cheeks, it feels too intimate a noise for someone you just met.

For someone so cruel.

The pain was no more than the accidental prick of a finger against a dagger. That brief pain soothed by the continuous sweep of his thumb. A strange sort of contented drowsiness passing over you instead, tempting you to close your eyes.

And then, you do.

There's flashes. The pulse of lights that glitter like stars, mimicking the beating of your heart. A snapshot of images, flickering briefly in your mind.

Some, you recognize. Your old bedroom, the garden outside. Tulips swaying in a summer breeze. A second later and it's tilting - crumbling beneath your steps.

There's a child, their eyes round and black. The flash of something black, crackling with a bright light. An ocean, beneath the ground - dragging you under.

A sensation of being lifted. The warmth of your cheek pressed against ice. A soft bed of grass, the bark biting into your shoulder.

The pulse in your throat drops down, down, down. Settling somewhere low, between your thighs. Your breath feels trapped in your chest, and when you let it loose, it's a soft moan-

You gasp, then - and your eyes are opening. He's pulled away, fingers smearing red across his lips - the peek of a pink tongue as he licks them clean. Hiding himself away again under the mask, as your wrist lies limply in your lap.

"You did well," He tells you, "I know that was a lot. It will get easier."

The images are still flashing in your mind. Ones that you know well blending with others. Had you been sleeping? Was more of your memory from that night unlocked?

There's a soft pressure against your wrist, and you jerk. Coming back from your thoughts, looking down to see him swipe a cream across puncture marks that were still raw and oozing.

An opened jar sits on the table, indentations in the pale salve where his fingers had been. Your mind feels hazy as you watch the way he works it into your skin - as the residual bit of throbbing wanes, the deep marks seeming to lessen before your eyes.

"They'll be gone in the morning." He tells you. There's a rough edge to his voice that wasn't there before, as he pushes himself up. Leaving the salve where it is, as his hands disappear behind the gloves.

Extending one though, to help you up. A little wobble to your step as you take it, as you let him guide you to the bed. It's soft beneath your touch, the mattress dipping as you sink back into it.

"Would you like anything?" The Mand'alor asks, "Food? Water?"

You feel... drained. Which is a humorous little thought, in your exhausted mind. A small smile, an echo of that low, thudding pulse as your legs push together, as you stretch.

"No, I'm just-" A yawn splits your face, coming from deep in your chest, "Sorry, just tired. It was a long journey."

It's easy to play the willing companion now, when you're fighting exhaustion. Your shields down with the promise of sleeping in a real bed, knowing you're not strong enough to fight tonight.

Tomorrow, you can try again.

"Of course." He stands at the foot of the bed. In your current state he almost looks awkward, with the cocked tilt of his hips. Looking as if he's ready to bolt, "I'll have Fennec bring you food when you wake."

Fennec. It must be the woman you met earlier. She had never given you her name.

Your nod is slow, a cracked open eye fixing on his helmet. In the light of the hallway he doesn't seem quite so big as he did before. Still broad, but you're no longer fearing what lies beneath.

"I'll be back tomorrow night." He tells you, "Not to feed, but to check on you."

You don't answer this time, already toeing the line of sleep. Missing the way he lingers for a long moment in the doorway. Before the heavy wooden door is closing, and you're left alone to dream.

Leaving you to wonder, as your eyes close - as you slip beneath the blankets, curling up. You knew he'd keep you alive. How else was he to feed?

But you never anticipated this, this...

This kindness.

You keep waiting for that veneer to crack - for that monster to be released. But it never does.

There is breakfast, the next morning. Then, lunch.

The skin on your wrist is smooth again by mid-morning, almost as if it never happened. A seamstress in your room by the afternoon, her eyes glittering as you’re measured for new clothes.

“You can’t be seen with the Mand’alor with only these,” Vera had all but giggled, a manicured finger flicking towards the small pack of clothes you had brought.

Too plain. Too worn.

You dress in soft linens now, in shades of crimson and slate. That brass rack along the wall filled to the brim with new finery.

Intricate beadings and rich fabrics and when the Mand’alor visits you that night, he’s quiet.

And with the new clothes, soon you do not look so out of place when you wander the empty halls during the day.

Unable to sleep while the sun is shining. Refusing to board up your pretty windows, to mimic a semblance of night.

You live stubbornly between two worlds. Out of sync from the rest of the castle for your first week. Bidding a good morning to Fennec as she eats her dinner. Skirting around her shadow - a broad man in dark green armor.

He no longer startles you, like he did in the beginning. Another Vampire Lord from across the sea, though there seemed to be no end to his visitation.

His eyes were always dark, always watching. He did not wear the helmet as the Mand’alor did - you would watch each expression flicker across his face, before it flattened.

A different kind of mask worn.

It has you curious, in spite of everything. Even though it takes you a few more days to pluck up the courage.

“Did Boba chose you, too?” You ask Fennec one evening.

Morning, for you now, you suppose. You have been trying, lately. The bread soaks into the dregs of your soup, as you swirl it along the bottom.

“In a ways.” She smiles. That rough edge softening over the days you’ve been here - her hackles lowering when it becomes clear that you were a little different than the others.

That you were the same you as you were before.

If only she knew in what way.

“It wasn’t like yours. And it was years ago.” She continues - an elbow digging into the wooden table, a palm cupped under her chin, “I was dying, and he found me.”

It’s not what you were expecting, the hunk of bread lying forgotten in your bowl.

“I suppose you could say he saved me.” A shoulder raises, and then drops, “I’d mistrusted someone. Slipped up, and found myself nearly gutted. No one could survive a wound like that.”

You don’t think you’ve take a breath since she started speaking - there was so little you knew about vampires. Only what you had been told, the bit you had gleaned from the books in your room.

“Boba found me, and he gave me a choice.”

“But,” You blink, “But you’re human, still?”

She ate, like you did. Did not stand with the same eerie stillness, not even taking a breath.

“He did not change me.” Fennec confirms, “But his blood healed me. And I’ve followed him since.”

“I did not… I did not realize vampires cared that much for humans.” You admit with embarrassment.

She gives you a knowing look, one that you do not understand. But a voice joins yours, low and laced with humor.

“We were all human, once. And you have not seen her on the battlefield, ad’ika.”

She smirks, as Boba fingers tap against the table, where he’s come to lean.

“Yes, it’s not my charming personality that has you keeping me around.”

He huffs a laugh, and there’s something like camaraderie between them.

A friendship.

It leaves you more confused than ever.

It’s morning, when he comes next.

The gentle knock at your door startling you awake. Most of the castle was asleep by now. You’re still trying to reset your internal clock - thinking that by now, you should be making an effort.

Not expecting him to be outside, as you pulled your robe a little more tightly around yourself.

It's been four days since he last fed, though you've seen him often in that time. The dip of his head when he passes you in the corridors. Watching him from the plush seats in the throne room - his helmet just barely tilting your way when he's not being spoken to.

You wonder if he's been watching you, too. If he thinks you will bolt - if he harbors any suspicions.

"Forgive me for not thinking of this sooner." He tells you, as you step aside to let him in, "I should have been doing this from the beginning."

"Doing what?" You frown, as you move to the bench by the window. A spot you've occupied the last two visits, preferring the wide bench to the narrow wooden desk chair.

"You're still getting used to this. Visiting you as the evening falls isn't helping you adjust." The Mand'alor explains, as you tug up the sleeve of your robe, baring the skin of your wrist.

His suggestion is thoughtful. As time has passed you've grown stronger, more used to the feeling. No longer sleeping right away, able to fight that sense of drowsiness.

It extends to the during, as well. If you concentrate hard enough, parts of those visions that flashed behind your closed eyes come into focus. And if you try really hard, the images fade to just sensations.

You couldn't explain if, if you tried. It certainly hadn't been something divulged during your training. In fact, a tiny part of you wondered if any of them even had knowledge of being a companion. Everything so far has felt... off.

Distorted by a degree, as if the road you were traveling had split, but still followed their path.

"You are the Mand'alor," You shrug, trying to brush off his consideration, "I am bound to follow your wishes."

He makes a sound, a low hum. It's as close to a laugh as you've heard, as he lowers himself to the bench next to you.

"I think we are past titles, seeing as I've tasted you." His voice is low, rough behind the helmet, "You may call me Din, when we're alone."

There's a heat in your cheeks at the innuendo, though he can't possibly mean it that way. His hands are already bare, fingers pressing against your skin. Feeling how your pulse had jumped at his words.

His helmet tips higher, this time. Resting on the bridge of his nose, his full lips on display.

It’s still too hard to watch - your eyes closing as he bites down. A small inhale of breath in anticipation, but you’ve gotten used to the impact.

Your eyes fighting to stay open this time, to stay in your own head. Unable to help risking a glance, then.

At the wash of red against full lips. The scruff of his jaw, the patch of hair missing - you imagine your thumb pressing against it.

Wondering if his face would feel like face, or it would be cool marble, like his hand.

His throat bobs, with the softest groan.

It’s natural, you tell yourself. You’ve groaned while eating the freshly-baked bread in the kitchens. Though it’s funny to think of yourself as the meal.

Idle fingers play with the edge of the heavy curtain, slipping through the fringe.

It’s then that the thought hits you. How distracted he was, at this moment.

How it’s morning.

How the whole castle is asleep.

Your fingers pinch down on the tassel. Testing the tension as you eye your desk, across the room but no more than a quick dash away.

All it would take is the slightest tug.

The morning sun would pour across his bare neck, the lower half of his face. Burning him, enough of a distraction that you could go for the stake. Fit it between his ribs, in that soft spot under his armpit.

You inhale a breath, to steel your nerves.

At the movement, his fingers stroke against your wrist. A means to soothe you.

And you find…. that you can’t do it.

Not right now. Not yet.

And this morning marks the beginning of that funny feeling that starts in your stomach. An unease, though it feels like you’re drowning in it.

Is it from wearing his colors? Is it your visions, or the echoing thud that tipped towards something carnal?

Is it because the thought of your revenge was so much easier when he was nameless?

Or is it because you’re still not sure what stayed your hand?

It’s not something you can think about, now.

You just need to play your part.

thanks so much for reading! 🥀💕 if you’d like to be tagged please let me know!

(tags: @dameron-grant-spector, @sugadolly, @writingsofestella)

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin imagine #haunted hoedown #hauntedhoedown

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mrslankyman · 9 months

Text

Cold as Diamonds

Fanfic for my friend, idk what she sees in him 🙄

Montague (fortnite) x reader

Warning: slight smut

This was the task. Make it to Grand Glaciers and steal Montague's diamond necklace. Which sounded easier in Jonseys head.

For you how ever it would prove to be an unsuccessful mission. With an interesting out come.

You made it over the snow. Grimacing at Jonseys idea of an entrance. You weren’t a well known member of the under ground. You mainly did your work behind a mask. Covering your face. Now you were out without it.

The goal was to ask for help. Montague was hostile you knew that. This was a risk. Get caught and you could end up like Peely.. or worse.

So you made your way down the snowy landscape to the door. A few henchman swatted around. Around you questions. You gave them your best act. Crying and stating you needed somewhere to stay. After all the rich people on the map needed to protect the people. Or else they slip and lose power.

They reluctantly agreed and let you inside. The mansion was nice. A large stair case in the center of the first room. Leading up both ways to the second floor.

“Montague will see you soon.” One of the henchman said watching you as you took a seat on one of the many couches. Just looking around at the books on the many shelves around you.

You mentally took note of any escape routes. Or any ways to get back inside if this went well.

It had been a few minutes. Mind you perhaps an hour. Foot steps came behind you. A throat cleared and a French accent hit your ears.

“Hello.” A simple greeting was given. You turned around. Your eyes took in the man before you. Maybe you’d seen his profile on Hopes computer. Maybe you’d see his file I.D photo but damn.. he looked better in person.

The scar on his eye made him look even more intimidating. The large diamond necklace that laid on his neck was what you came here for.

“Hello.” You stood up quickly giving a weak smile. Playing into the act.

“You need a place to stay I hear? Or help. You have come to the right place.” He smiles but it didn’t seem friendly. It seemed sinister. Like he knew something. But what?

“Yes.. please I need a place to stay.” You agreed eagerly and smiled hopefully. He nodded and snapped his fingers. One of the henchman walking over. “I want you to set up the room beside mine for her. Make it cozy.” He ordered giving the guy some kind of look. He nodded in understanding and hurried off up the stairs.

“Come on. Let’s go get you some dinner.” He cooed in your ear. Was he flirting? Or trying to come off as polite.. the best way you’d assume these rich ass holes could.

You followed him down to the dinning room. It was as you suspected. Grand a large. With a huge table. Despite that he sat beside you at one of the side chairs. Offering you any food you’d like.

A cook would come out and server you both. Laying down the dishes. He thanked them and shooed them off. You noticed he wasn’t carrying his gun you’d always see him with in photos. Interesting. Maybe he had his guard down.

“So, where do you come from?” His voice was low and his accent was giving off a sort of.. vibe. His eyes would land on you as you ate. “Pleasant Plaza.. I had no clue how I got over here. First thing I remember was being in a car and then landing in the snow.” Your story wasn’t a lie. Jonsey set it up like that. Making sure any of the cameras here saw a car and you getting thrown out just a little ways off.

“How terrible.” His hand laid on your thigh with a sympathetic look on his face. Was his accent always this seductive? “I’ll take care of you.” He smiled and leaned closer. The diamond around his neck glistening in the light. His eyes looking deep in mine.

“I’ll give you a gift.” He smiled and got up. He walked out somewhere and came back. Holding a rock. He sat down and smiled. “See this?” He looked at the rock then you. A smirk on his face “yeah..?” You answered confused. He covered the rock with his hand and squeezed. Opening his palm, showing a diamond sitting there now. No rock in sight.

“For you, mon amour.” He bit his bottom lip. He was definitely being seductive. Your heart skipped a beat slightly. Your face flushed. What was happening? He was the enemy.. but he was really attractive.

“Come come, I’ll show you your room.” He slid the diamond into your hand. Giving a quick smile before heading down the hall. You followed quickly not wanting to get lost inside the mansion. It be embarrassing telling Jonsey you couldn’t succeed in the mission because you had gotten lost.

He opened a room door and inside made you gasp. You had never seen such a decorated and suffocated room. You turned to look at Montague who had already made his way over to the bed. “I hope you don’t mind, the sheets aren’t the.. most girly.” He chuckled to him self, they were a deep navy blue.

“It doesn’t really matter.” You shrugged and sat down on the edge. This mission could last 1-2 days. If you aren’t back by 3 Jonsey was sure to send in people.

You almost felt bad. You had to take all these people down. It was what was best but.. it be such a waste of a handsome face. He sat down beside you. Letting himself relax a little. “You can stay as long as you like.” His voice was low again. The privacy of the room made your heart beat faster. He was definitely a charmer that was for sure.

“Thank you.” Your voice was soft and lowered to the same tone as his. He leaned in closer. His eyes having this alluring affect on you. “I don’t think I’ve seen someone as beautiful as you in a long time.. I don’t go out much. With all the threats I get.” He slid his hand ontop of yours. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Do you think I’m handsome, ma chérie?” His lips were so close to yours.

You hesitated. Do you just go for it? Perhaps it’ll confuse him. Enough for you to succeed in the mission.

You leaned in and let his lips touch yours. His being cold yet smooth. Your lips were warm and chapped. Contrasting his. He groaned and pulled you closer. You let out a slight moan letting him push you down on the bed. He pulled away and smirked down at you.

You put your hand on his cheek and smiled. His face flushed and he kisses you again. You closed your eyes and let it happen. He grew tired of his coat restraining his arms. Sliding it off and letting it fall to the floor.

His gloved hands gripped your hips. He smirked as you unbuttoned his vest. Taking it off and leaving him in his black dress shirt and pants.

His diamond necklace still hung at his neck. He loomed over you a playful smile on his face. “Didn’t suspect this.” He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “Nor did I.” You answered honestly.

Part of you knew this would help the mission. Another part of you just wanted to keep going out of selfishness. Montague is very.. attractive. It’s not like this wasn’t what you wanted.

Especially how he kissed you and went down to your neck. He didn’t even know your name but his sweet words like darling, love, and sunshine we’re enough for you.

Things escalated and you laid between his legs on the bed. He smirked down at you as you slid onto his lap. Grinding slowly. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Letting him self enjoy this.

A plan popped up in your head. As you grinned into him you leaned closer. He fell into a hazy feeling. Not having full thought.

As soon as he was too far into bliss you leaned even closer. Using one hand to you grabbed his necklace. You had already found an escape route in the room: get the necklace and jump out the window. There wasn’t that far of a drop. You’d make it out and head to the rail road. Hope had secret passages around.

Once your hand went to his necklace his eyes flung open. He grabbed your hand. A smirk on his face. Your eyes widened and your thoughts froze.

“I knew you were up to something.” his voice seethed. You glared at him your demeanor changing quickly. You squeezed his dick he groaned in pain and you ripped off his necklace. You got off the bed and ran to the window.

Montague struggled to get off the bed. Half embarrassed he’d get caught like this. He should’ve known you were one of those under ground agents. He couldn’t lie you did attract him. Even now you still did. But he wouldn’t let you tell the tale of how embarrassing you got his necklace.

His cold hands grabbed your shoulders and spun you around before you could leave. You gripped the necklace.

You struggled against him before he slammed you against the wall. His hand gripping your throat.

“You little bitch. I knew you were up to something.” He shoved you against the wall harder. Your eyes widened. His were icy cold. His brows furrowed and hands soaking the breath out of you. His gloved hands didn’t make it easier for you to get out of his grip.

“Let me go!” You struggled. Dropping his necklace. He grabbed it and laughed. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” *he leaned closer his eyes growing even more sinister.

He gripped his necklace hoping the power still worked. He threw you against the wall again. Shards of diamonds bursting through the wall. You stared at them. They were sharp and sparkled in the room light. You soon turned back to him. You could feel your self slowly growing colder. What was he doing?

You looked down. Your skin on your neck around his hands were growing blue. Crystal like diamond. Was he turning you into diamond?

“Montague! Wait- I’ll do anything!” You squirmed. He laughed and let go of you. It was too late. The spot he had touched would always be diamond. A reminder of his touch.

“Oh I have a good plan for you. I think your friend Peely will love to have some company.” He flew his hands down at your feet. Diamonds bursting through the floor. Your feet turning to diamond. You fell off.

A shard of diamond piercing you through the back.

“Tell Jonsey he’s never gonna see his friend again.” Those we’re the last words you heard before the icy cold feeling of the diamond coursed through your body.

#fortnite #montague x reader #fortnite montague

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lincolndjarin · 1 year

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter seventeen : the apostate's cabin (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

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

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 3.5k

summary : you finally get to see din's cabin

warnings, etc. : language

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

Just Din.

It’s sinking in as you walk in silence, holding his hand tightly as he pulls you towards his home. It’s hard to see where you’re going, the only source of light out here is the moon, you’re mostly relying on him to guide you there as you stumble sort of blindly after him.

It’s all happening very quickly in your mind.

He didn’t just want you.

He had said so many things and they all swirl around in your head but none of them compare to his name. His real name. Nothing he could have said to you compares to those three letters. He could have flat out said the words I love you, and it wouldn’t have been anywhere near as ruinous as this. Anyone can confess their adoration, this was special. This was just for you. This was an admission, this wasn’t just an empty promise, this was a secret that was only yours.

Din was all yours.

No one else gets to know Din, just you.

The sound of him clearing his throat snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Watch your step, princess…” You don’t get a chance to look down at your feet because his hands grip your waist and lift you over whatever it was you were meant to be watching. It sounds like his boots are sloshing around in water. He does this a few times, lifting you up over obstacles you can’t see until you finally hear the sound of a door creaking open. It's far too dark to see anything but you can recognize the feeling of wood floors under your still bare feet instead of the soft, damp grass.

There’s a soft hum as several lamps turn on simultaneously and you can see him flipping a switch next to the door, which he quickly closes, latching it locked. Your eyes are still adjusting as you take in the cabin. You realize rather quickly that it’s less of a cabin and more of a room.

He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t really hover much either, like he’s letting you observe everything on your own first, without his interference, as he takes off his soaked boots. It’s the strangest thing to take note of but his socks have holes in them, you notice them as he softly pads across the room to the dresser where he retrieves another pair of holey socks. You tear your eyes away from him and begin to explore his home.

It certainly is cozy.

He’s so large and imposing, it’s hard to imagine him here, in such a domestic place. Everything is wooden. He’s a man made entirely of metal and he lives in a wooden box.

“Put these on, don’t want you catching a cold.” He’s on the bed, peeling off his wet socks and tossing you a fresh pair, you hadn’t realized he’d grabbed two. You walk over to the table in the kitchenette, sitting and pulling the socks up your calves, they’re far too large for you, the heels ride up the backs of your ankles and on the left one your toes stick out of a large tear.

He stays on the bed, twiddling his thumbs like he’s unsure on the next course of action. In his own home he looks out of place.

“Do you sleep in all your armor?” You can’t help but ask, it certainly doesn’t look like it’d be comfortable.

“Sometimes, if I don’t feel like taking it off. It’s secluded enough out here that I’m not worried about removing it but at the very least I usually sleep with my helmet on.”

It’s nice. To get a straightforward answer. Like he really does just want you to know him. You stand, and begin exploring the room. It’s weird, to snoop, especially when he’s present, but your curiosity is getting the better of you, and this is technically what he had wanted.

His kitchen fills one corner of the cabin. It’s barely a kitchen of course, just a few cabinets and a stove, a waist height conservator tucked against one of the walls. You crouch beside it, he’s got one of your drawings pinned up on it. This must be the one he took.

The ST-70 class Razor Crest M-111.

You reach out to open it, it looks scarce inside as the cold hits your skin. A few ration packs are stuffed inside, it makes you frown, to know that he’s still eating those when you had insisted he go get real food. Standing up you begin to open the cabinets, the only things inside appear to be more ration packs, in one of them you find a sleeve of blue cookies, uneaten. You’re about to stop searching and scold him for his eating habits until you open the last cupboard and several small wrapped cakes fall into your arms. You recognize them immediately from the Solar Markets, you had given him one to take home.

“Is this all you eat?” You turn to face him with a stern look forming on your face, he’s still sitting on his bed, he’s rubbing his neck, embarrassed.

“Well, I still eat ration packs for most of my meals, but then you gave me one of those and I sort of realized that they require less prep, and they’re easier to carry around, and I like the way they taste…” You start stacking them back in the cabinet.

“Are those all you eat when you aren’t here?” You’re frowning as you say it.

“They’re easier than ration packs…” He mumbles.

That’s why his mouth tasted like vanilla.

It wasn’t because he was some vision of the perfect man, it was because he was practically surviving on snack cakes from the markets.

“You need to start eating real food, Mando.”

He doesn’t respond as you shut the cabinet.

“Did it help when I packed food for you? I can do that again.” You turn and start walking to the corner opposite of the kitchenette, just a worn out sofa and a shelf.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“That answer confirms that I should.” You say as you trace the spines of the books he has.

One in particular catches your eye, the Mando’a translation book you had been looking for. As desperate as you are to know, you decide to wait, there's too many other things here, you can’t allow yourself to get distracted just yet. You recognize several of the books from your first visit to the library at night, Interstellar Bride, My Barbarian Love, and a few others, it doesn’t look like he’s read them but it’s still shocking that he kept them.

Your fingers trace the hilt of what appears to be a sword with no blade and then two bars of Beskar, holding one up and turning towards him again.

“Are these real?” You pinch the cool steel between your fingers.

“Yes, I took a bounty when I first arrived on Naboo for them, I haven’t had time to leave and do anything with them yet.” You set the bar back on the shelf. Most of the items here seem to be parts that you aren’t familiar with, and have no idea why he would be keeping, you don’t ask because you’re picking up something familiar instead, something you’d completely forgotten about.

“You thief!” You point the vibroblade at him. “You stole this from me, I’ve been looking everywhere for this.”

“You didn’t even realize it was gone.” He shrugs and you know he’s right but that doesn’t make you any less irritated.

“I’m taking this back when I leave.”

“You’ll forget about it again, besides, I only took it for your own good, I didn’t want you accidentally losing a finger.” He’s standing now and it only takes a few short strides for him to be right next to you, prying the knife from your hands and putting it on the top of the shelf, out of your reach.

“That hardly seems fair.” You mutter, but you don’t make an effort to retrieve it. “What are all these for?” You point at the several hunks of metal lining the shelf as he picks one up to observe it.

“Can’t tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise.” He sets it back down and his helmet settles on your face.

“Very funny, come on, tell me.”

“I’m serious, it’s a surprise.”

“Fine.” You grin as you walk to the only separate room in the cabin, a small fresher in the back corner. It’s simple. Metal fixtures fill the room and everything looks to be generic brand. All of his soaps are the basic ones typically used by soldiers. On the edge of the sink there was a razor and a pair of scissors, he must have recently cut his hair, there's a brown curl next to the faucet.

He didn’t follow you into the fresher so you have no shame in snooping, so when you open the cabinet behind the mirror he isn’t there to see the confusion on your face for two reasons.

The first is the seed packets. There's an assortment of flower seed packets shoved into the shelves, some are open, some are untouched. You’re reaching for them but the second thing in the cupboard catches your eye and you stop dead in your tracks.

Two toothbrushes.

The instinct is to feel envy for the owner of the second one but you don’t get to because when you pick it up to observe it, it’s tiny.

It’s been used but it’s also clearly for a child.

Something about it fills you with a profound sadness and you don’t want to hold it anymore, putting it back in the cup and closing the cabinet swiftly before rushing back into the main room and towards his bed. His night stand is mostly bare except for a flower.

You recognize the plastic lily you gave him for his birthday but what you don’t recognize is the black lace wrapped around the stem, when you go to reach for it he grabs it first, putting it behind his back.

“Let's look at something else.” There’s an edge of anxiety in his voice and you can’t help but smirk.

“I thought you wanted me to know you?” You poke your finger into his chest plate as you try to get behind him but he turns on his heel before walking back over to the shelf and putting the flower on top. “You can’t just keep putting things up there, eventually I’m going to bring a step ladder and then you’re screwed.” He shrugs in response.

“I’ll move them tonight after you I take you back to your chambers.”

Your fingers play with his linen sheets, everything is a different shade of gray on his bed.

“You don’t want me to stay the night?” You tease as you turn your head slightly to look at him. You don’t know why you say it, you don’t actually want to stay. Well. You do want to stay, you just aren’t sure you want to do the things that are expected of a sleepover. Luckily he seems a bit taken aback by the idea, stammering for a moment before clearing his throat.

“I… umm, of course, if you wanted to you could, I just sort of- I assumed you wouldn’t want to but if you do that’s fine-” For someone who’s been inside of you several times he’s surprisingly flustered at the mention of you spending the night.

“It’s okay.” You try your best to give him a reassuring smile but you’re sure your confusion is apparent on your face. “If you don’t want me to, I won't.” He sighs as you say it, like he’s still battling within himself what to tell you what to not.

One side clearly wins as he blurts out his next few words.

“I’m not going to touch you.”

You’re a bit speechless at that.

An awkward silence begins to fill the cabin until he decides to continue.

“I just mean that I won’t touch you unless you ask me to… I don’t want you to think that’s all I want from you, so I won’t try anything, I’m not going to put any pressure on you, ever.” He sort of mumbles it all out and you can’t help but raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Ever?”

“Ever.” There’s a nervous laughter in your voice when you say it but he seems deadly serious.

“Even if I never decide I’m ready?” You say it as a joke but he nods.

“Even if you decide you’re never ready. If you ever decide again that that’s something you want I will gladly give you anything you ask of me, but if not then I will be happy with the parts of you you’re willing to share with me.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t decide right then and there.

You knew the moment he said “if” instead of “when.”

If you ever decided. Not when you decided.

You already know your answer based on that.

But you don’t want him like that, at least not tonight.

“So I can spend the night?” You tilt your head to the side as you smile at him and he nods.

“Just for tonight, because everyone will be too preoccupied with the party to notice you aren’t in your room.” He begins carefully removing his armor, setting the pieces on top of his dresser as you sit on his bed, watching intently.

He starts with bands around his calves, setting them aside before carefully removing the pieces on his thighs. He’s precise with every move, everything has its place. There’s several belts across his torso that he takes his time removing.

It feels far more intimate than it is. After all he’s fully clothed still under the armor, it just seems so personal. He’s seen you completely bare but this is the most you’ve ever seen him without.

After a few more minutes of careful deliberate removal he’s standing before you in just his flight suit and helmet.

“Do you want to borrow some clothes to sleep in? I can help you back into your dress in the morning.” He opens the dresser, handing you simple cotton pants and a shirt, they must have been supplied by the castle because there appears to be an assortment of sizes as he hands you yours. You can’t imagine him ever wearing these.

“Do you always wear the flight suit? I can’t imagine that it's comfortable in the heat.” As you say it he motions for you to turn around, as you do he sets his gloves on his nightstand and begins unlacing your gown.

“I usually do.” He finishes pulling the ribbons loose, his knuckles brush against your spine and you let your head fall back slightly. “It’ll be easier for me to get my armor back on if I need to.”

You nod. It must be exhausting. Never getting a break, always worrying about things like that. Maybe someday you’ll try to get him to relax. Not tonight, he’s already given you so much tonight.

He helps you out of the dress, never letting his hands linger anywhere for too long, and turning around when you put on the pajamas he had given you, giving you a moment of privacy as he adjusts the lights in the room so only one of the lamps is still lit.

You aren’t really sure what to do next but it seems he does as he gets into bed, laying against the wall to give you as much space as possible on the twin sized mattress. He’s got one pillow, his helmet rests on the edge of it and you pull back the covers to crawl in beside him, laying down so you're face to face with him. Your nose is nearly poking Beskar.

“You can touch me a little if you want.” You whisper, your breath fogging up the steel and in an instant he’s pulling you against him, his arms locked around you, your face settled against his chest.

He holds you like a child holds their favorite blanket or toy.

Like you’re the only thing he wants.

After a few minutes once you’re settled, you look up, your eyes immediately squeeze shut as you catch a glimpse of his chin under his helmet. He feels you tense up against him and his grip around you goes slack.

“What’s wrong sarad?” He whispers as he looks down at you.

“I can- I can see your jaw.” You mumble as you bury your face in his chest, you can feel a low rumble there.

He’s laughing.

“It’s okay, want me to turn out the light?” He’s pulling you close again.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I guess I just don’t understand how it works, I’ve seen your hands and…” Your face gets a bit hot. “other parts. What am I allowed to see?” He’s silent for some time, your only indication that he hasn’t fallen asleep is the small circles his fingers are tracing against your back.

“I should probably be stricter. I just can't help but make exceptions when it comes to you. Normally I wouldn’t show you any of my skin, but I’m technically an apostate so I’ve allowed myself some liberties.” He says it like it’s nothing but you sit up a bit.

“You’re an apostate?” He nods and one of his hands rests on the back of your neck trying to calm you a bit, bringing you back down against him. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I am not Mandalorian until I redeem myself.” He hesitates for a moment. “It also means that I removed my helmet in front of a living thing.”

You knew that. You had asked before, you just didn’t know who he had removed it for, you both know you’re waiting for him to say it.

“I had to say goodbye to someone very important to me, and I wanted him to see me. That’s really all there is to it.” He sounds small as he says it and you think about the little toothbrush.

You decide not to press further.

“You’re Mandalorian to me, so I won’t look.” He holds you tighter as you say it.

“Then don’t look.” Your eyes flutter shut as you hear the hiss of air again, he reaches over you to turn off the lamp next to his head board, even though the room is dark you keep your eyes closed when you feel him set the helmet completely aside this time. You’re waiting for him to do something but you realize that he truly meant he wouldn’t touch you if you didn’t want it. So you find his face with your hands first.

You had intended to just use your hands to find him but once you’ve got a hold of him you don’t want to do anything else. There’s a soft gasp from him as you cup his jaw.

It’s softer than you’d expected it to be. His whole face is soft, you let your thumbs trace the apples of his cheeks, his stubble is patchy, the pads of your fingers find the gaps in his facial hair. His jaw feels rounded but he has a defined chin. You let your hands continue to roam the peaks and ridges of his face, eventually settling on his nose.

It’s a strong nose. Prominent and proud on his face, a nose like this should be revered.

You’re careful to not poke his eyes but you realize very quickly that his are closed as well. How often is his face held? Or at the very least touched by another living person? There’s a crease in between his brows that you smooth out with your thumb.

And then there’s his hair.

You have always, in all circumstances, imagined him with short, cropped hair. Especially after seeing the scissors in the fresher, but you find waves, a whole mess of them. It makes sense, knowing that he cuts his own hair, because everything seems to be different lengths, like he waits until it becomes an inconvenience and then trims whatever gets in his eyes.

Now you kiss him.

Using his hair as leverage you pull him down to meet your lips.

It’s so much easier like this, with no helmet in the way. If you had known it would be this good you never would have made that stupid no kissing rule. He kisses with every part of his face when he’s unencumbered.

His stubble scratches your cheeks, his nose crashing against yours, he lets the bridges scrape against each other. When he lets you go for air he presses his forehead to yours. The taste of vanilla fills your mouth when he drags his tongue across your bottom lip.

He doesn’t press further after that, eventually pulling you back against his chest. You plant one last kiss onto the bottom of his chin before nestling against him.

“Goodnight sarad’ika.”

“Goodnight Din.” You inhale his scent one last time before letting yourself succumb to sleep.

Smoke. Metal. Fresh Linen.

It’s the first dreamless sleep you’ve had since your arrival on Naboo.

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

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Safest with You (Ch. 9 - The Dam Breaks)

6K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: Din finally comes upstairs and <see above gif>.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please; for serious, this is the first chapter in the "main" series that is explicit.) Porn with feelings, but it’s still 93.2% porn: unprotected PiV sex (discussed), multiple orgasms, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, they sort of... "make love"? Sorry for the ick but let's call a spade a spade, kissing, dirty talk, a wee bit of daddy kink, dipping their toes into a light degradation kink, tons of petnames as usual (baby, pretty bird, sweet girl, sweetheart, etc.)

A/N: I'm sorry for this gif. I'm sorry for all of it.

Two other thoughts: First, I said somewhere else that I think writing smut takes practice, and I still consider myself to be in the practice stage - I hope it's enjoyable, but I feel like I have room for improvement. Second, totally understand if you've been reading this series for the fluff and maybe this isn't your bag (thus far, the smut has been contained to the separate one-shots and drabbles); that's okay, feel free to skip this one! I concede this is a lot of boinking, but that’s sort of what the story, and specifically this chapter, has been building to. In future chapters, there will probably be more of a mix (plot, fluff, angst, smut) 👍🏻

Series Masterlist

It’s the hottest elevator ride of your life. The second the doors start to close, shielding you from your lobby guard’s view, you and Din move towards each other. Din reaches you first and crashes his mouth to yours with a force that pushes you against the moving elevator’s walls, knocking the air out of your lungs. Barely allowing you the moment you need to breathe properly, Din continues his invasion of your mouth, tongue massaging yours in hard, long strokes; his hands moving with similar urgency, moving up and down your sides. When his thumbs flick over your nipples, you let out a catastrophic groan and your legs give out a little; lucky for you, Din has no problem holding you up. Mouth never leaving yours, Din crosses your wrists over your head, holding them with one hand while sliding his free hand down to your ass. Already arching into him from this new position, you buck into Din’s thigh when you feel him grab a fistful of one ass cheek and squeeze.

Chuckling, Din gives you a little lick on the neck beneath your ear, “Eager, aren’t we? Don’t worry, pretty bird, I’ll give you what you need.”

Before you can respond, the elevator doors open with a ding, and you’ve never been more relieved to see the empty hallway of your floor and not the scandalized face of some poor unsuspecting neighbour. Pausing only to pick up the dog leash that you dropped when Din had you pinned, you practically drag him by the hand to your door.

Once inside, you busy yourself with Al’s nighttime ritual (fresh bowl of water, dental chew), leaving Din free to take in your apartment. The front foyer opens immediately to an open concept space so he can see clear across a living room area that’s adorn with perfectly complimentary furniture, all the way to the floor to ceiling windows lining a balcony that runs across the length of the unit. To the right is a spacious kitchen, with a generous island littered with cooking tools and appliances. Dog accessories make an appearance in every free nook and cranny, leaving no doubt who rules the roost here. Just from this cursory look, Din can tell that you personally picked every piece of furniture, décor and small touch in your apartment; everything has a clean, calm aesthetic, and yet, is brimming with a welcoming energy. From the overflowing bookshelf, to the cozy blanket thrown over the arm chair, to the vases of fresh flowers, it’s all so you. It doesn’t surprise him that you have a keen eye for decoration and aesthetics; to him, everything you touch is made better. You watch Din’s eyes sweep over your home; you’re immensely proud of this space and the home you’ve made for yourself and Al, and it brings you joy to share your happy place, your safe space with those you care about. Looking at this hulk of a man standing in your front entrance, you feel a warmth in your heart at how much he already looks like he belongs here; and you’re suddenly very aware of how much space there is between the two of you. Din catches your eye and taking in your pensive look, gives you a little smirk with a tilt of his head, “Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart.”

Crossing the room with embarrassing speed, you nearly leap into his waiting arms; Din catches you with ease and cups his hands under your ass, lifting you so you can cross your legs behind his back and resume kissing him eagerly. God he is so big, and so… strong, you internally swoon as he easily walks the both of you over to the couch. He sits himself down gently, and you unwrap your legs so you’re now straddling Din’s lap, staying on your knees so that you have a height advantage for once. Threading your fingers through his hair, you can feel the tension that has been building up since your first coffeeshop meeting ready to snap; peppering Din’s jaw with light kisses, you hum in his ear, “Want you to ruin me, Din.”

With a growl, Din helps you pull your sweatshirt over your head, “Let’s get you out of these clothes, pretty bird.” Leaning back to admire you in your lace bra, sitting so pretty on top of him, he murmurs, “Even better than my dreams.”

“You dream about me, Djarin?”

Din starts to kiss down the column of your neck, making his way to your chest, “Every night, pretty bird.”

You sigh as he reaches the top of your breasts, his hands cupping them from underneath to push the supple flesh up into his mouth. As Din devours everywhere you’re exposed with an open mouth, his hands greedily grope your tits, and you throw you head back in pleasure unable to hold back your moans, “Oh, oh, Din. Din. That feels so good. Right there, baby.”

Hands moving to roll your nipples between his fingers over the lace fabric, Din murmurs between mouthfuls, “Right here, sweetheart? You like it when I touch you through this pretty lace? Don’t think I didn’t recognize this bra, baby girl. This little triangle right here,” he bites down on the left cup of your bra where the lace fabric meets the strap and tugs with his teeth so that your strap slides down your shoulder and the lace cup falls away from your chest, “has been torturing me for the last month.” Just like the night he saw his first peek of this lingerie set, Din is finding its teasing effect on him to be irresistible as he moves his mouth to cover what the fallen lace reveals.

With Din’s face fully buried in your chest, you run your fingers through his hair and hold him close while arching your self into him, needing to get impossibly close to this man; his mouth is setting you on fire and his hands are roaming over your body, caressing and electrifying you with every touch. And yet, you need more. More of his tongue, his hands, his words, more, more, more.

Din momentarily pulls you out of your daze, “You wear this just for me, pretty bird?”

You look down at Din and see he already looks as desperate as you feel. You nod and add hesitantly, “Just for you… daddy,” deciding in the moment to try out the petname. It’s not something you’ve used a lot with past partners, but for some reason, maybe it’s his size, his protective nature, or just the way you want to give yourself over to Din to let him handle you, the moniker fits; even when you would touch yourself to the thought of him, you would always come to the thought of daddy.

Din grins as he takes your now wet nipple back into his mouth, “Is that what you did, baby? Wrap yourself up like a present for daddy?”

“Mmmhhh god yes,” you whimper; hearing him call himself daddy and pick up on the way you like dirty talk is causing a fresh wave of arousal to seep out of you, “Do you want to unwrap me, Din?”

Before Din even starts to nod, you climb off of his lap and stand right between his spread legs, shimmying down your pants to reveal the matching black panties.

Din thinks he might pass out. He has no idea what he’s done to deserve you serving yourself up to him like a perfectly wrapped gift; the coy and almost shy look you’re giving him right now as he takes in your pretty form is tapping into something wild and feral inside of him. Reaching for you, he hooks two fingers into the band of your underwear as soon as you’re close enough and yanks you into him. You laugh as you fall onto Din, his strong arms catching and pulling you on top of him so his lips can return to your chest again. Your laughter quickly turns into needy whimpers as Din mouths and paws at you and you hear his filthy words vibrating against your skin, “Gonna take you apart, pretty girl. Gonna have you screaming my name when you come on my mouth, my fingers, my cock. You’re not going to remember your own name, baby – you’ll only know mine.”

You whine as Din growls again, “Mine,” and presses you down to grind on his lap. You can feel his hardness straining against his pants as you chase after the delicious friction it provides, face warm with embarrassment at the mess your soaked panties must be making of his pants.

“Din, please…”

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“…more. I need more, daddy,” you plead.

Din leaves a hand gripping your hip to help you build a grinding rhythm while his other hand moves between your bodies and trails down to your underwear. Rubbing his fingers over the fabric, he finds you drenched, “So fucking wet, pretty bird. You soak through these pretty panties just for me?”

By now, you’re panting into Din’s neck, so worked up you think you might scream if he doesn’t touch you soon, “Yes, oh yes, Din… all for you. Pussy is dripping for you. Need you to touch me, please, please.”

“So beautiful and sexy, and now polite, too. Such good manners, saying please so pretty like that. Don’t worry, baby doll, daddy will give you what you need,” pushing aside the lace to reveal your slick covered cunt, Din slides his fingers through your slit with purposeful strokes; repeatedly dipping his fingers in to explore your hole before spreading your wetness all over, leaving you flushed and squirming in his lap – somehow getting what you wanted has left you even needier than ever.

Gathering what small amount of self agency you have left, you force yourself to shift away from Din’s hand and straighten up to start unbuttoning Din’s shirt; with each undone button, you spread open the fabric and kiss the newly exposed part of his chest, taking in Din’s low moans as you explore his body with your hands and mouth. When the expanse of his hard chest is before you, you step off of his lap and lean over Din to admire his impressive physique. He’s unfathomably large, somehow even more so underneath his clothes, a solid wall of muscles no doubt well developed during his days as a boxer; running your hands over his build and trailing light kisses down his chest, you think that perhaps he’s a little softer now (especially around his tummy area), and you much prefer it that way. In your explorations of Din’s body, you discover several scars of varying size and shapes, no doubt from long by-gone fights. While you don’t linger, you run your tongue over the smooth, puckered skin, kissing each scar before moving on, as if to make better the injury that has long healed; Din looks down to watch you leave your loving touch on all the parts of his body where violence has marked him and feels his chest tighten at your tenderness. In this moment he thinks that maybe, maybe, you’re the grace that’s meant to right all his wrong doings; his very own goddamn angel.

By the time you reach the last shirt button, your mouth is watering and you’ve successfully worked yourself up to stratospheric levels, actually feeling your slick dripping down to your inner thighs. Along with the button, you also undo Din’s belt and pants then slowly sink down to your knees in front of his spread legs, before looking up at him with want.

Holy shit. Din thinks he could come just from the sight of you kneeling before him, lips swollen, lace bra half off with pretty tits on display for him, pupils blown wide with a mix of lust and playfulness. He lifts himself slightly so you can pull down his boxers and pants, and when his hard cock springs out with a bounce, he sees your eyes widen and you bite your bottom lip while sharply inhaling. With amusement, he lets you busy yourself with taking off his pants fully and watches as your brow furrows with a tinge of worry. He wants to soothe away your concern and tell you how bad he wants you in this moment, but the ability to form words seems to have escaped him.

When you come face to face with his impressive length again, you lock eyes with Din before breathing his name, breath fanning his dick and drawing a low groan from his throat; encouraged, you cup his balls with one hand, gently grasp his base with your other, and ready by pointing his tip towards your mouth.

Gingerly kissing the swollen head and kitten licking away the bead of precum seeping out of his slit, you coo, “Daddy it’s too big,” giving him a doe-eyed look of apprehension. As good as you look and feel, floating your soft breath over his leaking cock, Din’s impatience and hunger override all his other sense and he has to have you now. Leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and hungry, he directs you off your knees with his strong arms, murmuring, “Don’t worry, pretty bird. You can take it; I have to taste you now to make it fit, okay?” You start to whine in protest, but as Din maneuvers you so that you’ve switched positions, you forget about the injustice of having being denied taking his cock in your mouth when you see Din’s eyes darken at the sticky mess between your legs. Kissing your inner thighs as he peels off your lace panties, Din chuckles, “Did the idea of sucking daddy’s cock get you all worked up, sweetheart? You’ll have plenty of chances to take me in that sweet mouth of yours. Not right now though, I need to get you ready for me. Need to fuck you.” You at moan at his words, then gasp his name when he dives into you without warning like a man starved.

The obscene noises that Din makes as he licks your pussy and slurps your wetness fill the room and accompany the melody of your cries above him. Grabbing his hair for purchase, your legs shake from pleasure so much that Din hooks an arm under your thigh to open you up even more and uses that hand to press you down so you can’t move. “Taste so good, so sweet,” Din mutters and the vibrations of his baritone voice course all the way to your chest and you let out a wail, “Daddy, daddy, daddy.. oh fuc-!” Releasing one of your hands from Din’s curls to cover your mouth, Din reaches up with breathtaking speed and pulls your hand down. With his mouth still pressed against your folds and nose nudging your clit, he purrs, “Want to hear you, baby. Wanna hear what I do to you.” Again, his words reverberate through you and electrify every pleasure point in your body so that you have no choice but to mindlessly grope your breasts and arch you back; if he wants to hear you, he’ll hear you:

“Fuck, daddy, that feels so good. Love your mouth on me.”

“Don’t stop, Din. Need you, been waiting for you to tear me apart for so long.”

“Din. Din. Din… please, fuck, you’re so good at this… so good to me.”

“Please, oh god, please. Daddy, I want to come all over your face, please daddy, daddy please let me come. Ahhhhhhh…”

Spurned on by your praise, Din bares down on you to lick one last hard stripe against your seam before taking your clit in his mouth and sucking. Not giving you anytime to recover from the change in pressure, he presses in a thick finger all the way into your cunt, before quickly adding a second. It’s too much, too much, you practically sob, as Din stretches you out and pushes you closer and closer to the brink. “Baby, you can take it, gotta stretch this pussy out so my cock can wreck it,” he growls as his fingers pump into you with a quickening pace. Your heartbeat starts to race as you feel your orgasm building in your lower belly; you’re writhing in Din’s hold, chanting non-stop incoherent ramblings of pleasure when he adds a third finger without warning – the added pressure brings a bite of pain that hurtles you over the edge, coming with a scream of Din’s name.

Din slows down his fingers, but keeps in all three, continuing to finger fuck you and lap at your sensitive clit until your whole body stops buzzing.

“Daddy…” you sigh, opening your eyes as Din rises, mouth and chin still shiny with your slick, and closes in for a kiss. Cupping his face to help wipe away the evidence of your arousal, you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as a fresh wave of warmth washes over you. Still pliant and fuzzy from your orgasm, you let Din lay you down on the couch before he straightens himself up to remove his shirt and jacket; after folding them over neatly at the other end of the couch, Din turns back and braces his arm on the back of the couch to tower his naked form over you. Fuck. He belongs in a museum. Mouth agape at the breathtaking sight above you, your legs part of their own accord, beckoning him.

Planting himself between your open legs, Din pulls the cups of your lacy bra down with his fingers and your breasts fall into his hands; leaning in close, he whispers, “Wanna see these gorgeous tits bounce when I fuck you, pretty bird,” and as if on autopilot, you prop yourself up on your elbows, giving Din access to the clasp. After sliding your bra down your arms and tossing it away, Din marvels at your naked body before him; he needs to fuck you like he needs air. In a moment of miraculous clarity, he whispers, “Baby, do you have a condom?”

Suddenly shy, despite the ache of your cunt, you let Din know, “I’m clean… if you want, Din, you can fuck me bare?”

“Shit, pretty bird. I’m clean, too. You sure?”

“Wanna feel you, daddy.”

“I swear you’ll be the death of me, baby,” he reveres, leaning down to capture your mouth in a breathtaking kiss.

“Din,” you whimper, “please… need you… please, fuck me.”

“I’m here, I’m here… such a needy slut.”

You gasp, and for a second, Din wonders if maybe he’s taken the dirty talk too far; leaning away to check on you, he’s pulled back in when you throw an arm around his neck and crush your lips to his, kissing him with explosive want. “Your needy slut,” you murmur against his mouth, his filthy words having you clenching and feeling much too empty, “come claim your pussy. It’s all yours, daddy.”

“Fuck,” grits Din, “the mouth on you, baby,” as he pulls back to line himself up with your entrance; he notches your opening and pauses for a moment, “Ready, pretty bird?” You appreciate this moment of tenderness, because you’re sure it’s coming right before Din absolutely wrecks you; you positively beam, “Give it to me, daddy.”

Din smirks at your enthusiasm and watches as your confident expression changes to one of being shell-shocked as he pushes in slowly; inch by inch, Din presses into you as you spread your legs further, one leg dropping off the couch and back arching to accommodate him, “Fuck, Din. So… big,” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders, fingernails marking him to distract from the stretch.

“You’re taking me so well, baby girl,” Din coos, leaning in and wrapping his arms around you in encouragement, kissing your neck and nipping at your earlobes as he continues to sheath himself deep within you. Finally, finally he bottoms out; you’re so, so full and you think you may have to relearn how to breathe.

Din rests his forehead against yours, panting and holding himself back until you let him know you’re ready; he’d wager this is no less than a Herculean feat, with your tight warm cunt practically choking him, it’s a wonder to him he hasn’t come already. Peppering your throat with light kisses and he croaks out words of praise in a husky, strained voice right into your ear, “Look at my good girl, taking me so deep,” “Feel so good and tight on my dick. So, so perfect for me,” “Never want to leave this cunt. Could stay buried here forever.”

Your breathing, though shallow, finally steadies, “Din?”

“Yes, pretty bird,” he practically chokes.

“Please move,” you plead, “… and Din?”

He looks at your blissed out face as he pulls away from your neck, “Yes?”

“Don’t hold back, baby,” your smile playful.

Din returns your grin, “Any thing my pretty little slut wants,” and he pulls back nearly all the way, before pushing back in with restrained force. He fucks into you with a few long, gentle strokes, waiting to make sure your moans are ones of pleasure before he lets go and slams into you, burying into you to the hilt before pulling back and driving into you over and over. You feel the air punch out of your lungs with each of Din’s powerful thrusts; your combined cries and grunts of ecstasy mix with the sounds of skin slapping, filling the room and has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You grab at Din’s arms and babble nonsensically, “Din, Din.. Imma… feels so good… baby, baby, please… fuck, fuck...”

The build up to this, to tonight really, has been too much and Din know he won’t last. Mesmerized by the vision of you writhing beneath him, your gorgeous tits bouncing as you cry out, he vows to make you come one more time before he explodes. The hand not gripping your hip reaches up to palm both of your breasts and pull at your peaks; Din stutters when you clench down and cry out a symphony of his name in repetition. As you’re quaking at the pleasurable sting still vibrating in your nipples, Din snakes a hand down to where you’re joined together and starts rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb. A fresh wave of slick coats his pistoning cock as you mewl beneath him at the added sensation; you’re fucked dumb and hardly able to think let along string together the words to let Din know how close you are.

“I’m close, baby. You feel… too good… can’t last. Need you to come one more time for me. Can you do that for me? Can you… be my good girl?” Din grunts hotly in your ear, each question punctuated by a hard thrust.

“Yes, daddy, daddy… fuck oh, yes… can… be… good… Oh, Din, Din, don’t stop, don’t stop, Din, DIN! Nghhhhhhhh!”

“That’s it. Give it to me, let go, baby. Give daddy one more,” Din is barely able to keep up a steady pace as he presses down on your swollen nub.

Crying out, you shudder and shake as Din pulls another orgasm from you; eyes unfocused and mouth open in a soundless scream, you tense around Din’s length so tightly that his own fall isn’t far behind. As your breathing starts to even, Din pulls out and strokes himself furiously with his fist before shooting rope after rope of cum over your stomach as you watch, awestruck. So much. Pulling you up and into his lap with a strong hand to your back, Din kisses you tenderly as you come down from what has probably been the best fuck of your life.

Settled contently in the afterglow, you run your fingers gently up and down Din’s warm back as he continues to kiss you softly; stroking your hair lovingly, he whispers, “Sorry, pretty bird. Didn’t have time to ask you where you wanted me to come.”

Gosh, you adore him. Giggling, you kiss that sweet mouth of his, “It’s okay, baby. I like that you marked me. I told you, I’m yours.”

“Mine,” Din murmurs between gentle pecks to your lips, cradling your head gently while holding you close with his other arm, “Was that okay, sweetheart?”

You tuck yourself into your favourite nook under his chin and nod into his neck, “Perfect, Din. Knew you would be.”

“You’re my dream girl, pretty bird.”

You close your eyes and sigh happily, fucked out and pulled apart.

“Want to get cleaned up a bit?” Din suggests after a while.

When you nod into his neck, Din stands, still holding you close; softening against you, he effortlessly carries you in the direction of the bathroom that you point him in. After setting you down softly on your feet, Din helps steady you as you reach for tissues and a hand towel and patiently waits for the water to warm before he gently cleans off his spend from your stomach and his own. Giving you a little privacy to finish up, Din exits the bathroom first; when you come out, you see he’s gathered both of your clothes from the various places in the living room they were discarded, and is holding them with both hands in a neat pile in front of his nakedness like a sitcom character caught in a compromising position. Cheekily letting out a low wolf whistle, tell Din how cute he is, then hold your hand out for his which he manages to take without dropping the clothes.

Leading him by the hand to your bedroom, you wordlessly take the clothes from him and put them on top of your hamper before throwing your arms around Din’s neck and kissing him with abandon. The depth of your passionate for this man, and your gratefulness for intimacy that now exists between the two of you is overflowing. You want him to know how good he made you feel, that he’s left you changed, filled with a need that you don’t think anyone other than him will ever be able to fill.

“Do you want to stay over, Din?” you whisper into his lips; as amazing as this night has been so far, it somehow feels like not enough and you don’t want it to end just yet.

Din’s response is to pick you up and throw you, shrieking with laughter, onto your bed and dive bomb after you; giving you just enough time to roll away at the last minute so he doesn’t smoosh you. Throwing his long arm over your middle, he rolls you back into him before pressing his mouth against yours, “I would love to stay over, pretty bird. You think Al would be good with me joining you on mornings walks too?”

Nodding, you smile and card your hands through Din’s curls, still slightly damp from your escapades in the living room, and pull him impossibly closer so there’s more of you touching than not. The two of you stay like this for who knows how long; naked bodies entangled, strong arms encircling, never-ending soft touches from lips, fingers, hands, lazily mapping each other’s bodies. Floating over the gentle grazes are whispered pleas for forgiveness once again, reminders that forgiveness was already granted, renewed vows of devotion, and declarations of adoration. Every caress a promise for the future and an expression of your quiet joy.

With one hand running long, lazy strokes over your back like steady current and the other gently cradling your head, Din’s tongue parts your lips, “Can I have you again, sweetheart?”

Pulling back and looking at Din directly in the eyes, you find a sweet longing that makes more than your heart ache, so you nod while exhaling a satisfied breath.

“Wanna take it slow this time, okay pretty bird?”

Giving a low chuckle, “You always want to take things slow,” you grin, before kissing him earnestly, “I’m yours, Din, however you want me.”

Despite having just told you his intention to go slowly, your words have Din hardening fast as he licks into your mouth and deepens his kisses.

But he’s committed to taking his time and does indeed go slow.

Slowly, he makes his way down your body, memorizing every curve of your neck and your breasts, every dip and valley of your hips and stomach with his mouth and hands. Taking a pause at every soft peak of your body to impart loving caresses and murmur sweet words of praise and praising words of filth about what you do to him and what he wants to do to you.

Slowly, you fall apart when his tongue laps at you with the intent to explore and claim, gradually building you up with each lick. With the patience of a saint, he repeatedly guides your thighs to stay open with firm, but gentle massages from his hands while he lazily sucks on your clit and you cry out long, drawn out whines above him. He reveres each and every line and crest of your folds with his mouth, as you chant his name and grab at his curls to press him deeper into you for more, more. Nothing can hurry him – not your soft cries of pleasure, not the strained hard on he ruts into your mattress, nor your dripping arousal running down your centre and soaking your sheets – he deliberately applies the sweet pressure you need to send you tumbling into oblivion when he’s good and ready, then draws out your pleasure even longer by continuing to devour you through your high.

He has to force himself to breathe slowly when you take him in your mouth, and following his cue, set a sweet and slow pace, licking and stroking his shaft lazily before swallowing him deep and working his length in an unhurried, steady rhythm. Your small, soft hands cup him from below, and your fingers ghost a tickling trail over his balls, humming appreciatively to the sounds of Din’s haggard breathing and the small gasps that escape his throat. He gently runs his fingers through your hair, brushing loose strands off your face as you suck his shaft and wrap your tongue around his swollen head; massaging your scalp soothingly as you take your time pulling all of him down your tight throat. It’s almost unfair to call this a blow job when it’s really more of an appreciation of his glorious cock conducted at your leisure, the pleasure you’re receiving equaling Din’s.

Not without regret, Din coaxes you off of him, promising you he’ll come in your mouth another time as he lovingly kisses your messy mouth. Even his vow of taking it slow has limits, and he openly admits he’s ready to concede, “Need to be inside of you, pretty bird.”

Din’s mouth never leaves yours as he lines himself up between your legs and almost agonizingly slowly, pushes in. You’re so wet and open that he meets little resistance, but with his unrushed pace, you feel every ridge as he fills you. There’s none of the urgency and impatience of your earlier dalliance; Din sets a relaxed pace, and braces his forearms on either side of your head, hands tenderly stroking your hair and face as he kisses you over and over. As he thrusts in and out of you with long, deliberate strokes, Din drinks in your whimpers and soft cries of heady bliss, coming up only for air to whisper sweet praise in your ear about how good you feel around him, how beautiful you are, how perfect you are, made for him. You don’t hold back any of your own ramblings, murmuring back how incredible he feels inside you, how well he fills you, how happy he makes you, how you want the weight of him on you at all times. You feel so full, so beautiful, so safe and free, and so loved. Din had promised to take you apart and put you back together when he finally took you to bed, and you had assumed he meant physically, but you’re sure now that he’s reshaped your heart as well. With the way he’s looking at you while he fucks you deep and slow, adoring you, you can’t help as your eyes water slightly and tears escape from the corner of your eyes. “I know, baby, I know,” whispers Din as he soothes away your tears. Eventually, both your breathing turns shallow, your kisses sloppier, and your moans indecent. With broken words, you gasp, “I’m so close. Oh, god, Din. Please. Inside. Please, Din, come inside me. It’s safe, I-” and before you can finish your sentence, he kisses you to convey his trust, and reaches down to draw figure eights on your clit as he suddenly picks up the pace, giving himself the permission to release what he’s been holding back. The sudden change in speed coupled with the delicious strokes from Din’s thumb has you coming for your personal record breaking fourth time tonight, clenching down so hard on Din that he fists the sheets next to your head tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Somehow mustering enough focus to slam into you even harder for three, four, five more strokes, Din comes mightily with a low, prolonged grunt, collapsing on top of you while panting into your neck.

A minute passes and Din rolls off of you and pulls you close; as he slips out of you, you whine a little from the loss and look at him almost shy, to which he kisses your forehead tenderly. No words needed, he gets up, walks around to your side of the bed to lift you bridal style, keeping your legs closed to minimize the mess on your bed sheets before carrying you to your bedroom ensuite. After cleaning up, you put on a fresh pair of underwear and a silky camisole for sleep while Din dons his boxers before the two of you slip comfortably under the covers, grinning like tired idiots the whole time.

Pressing you to his chest, Din nuzzles the back of your neck and peppers the nape with light kisses, “Remember when I told you I didn’t plan on getting much sleep around you, pretty bird?”

You hum in assent, remember his teasing from your second date.

“If you keep wearing things like this to bed,” his big hand moves to brush deliberately over your nipples and then trail down your side to lightly spank your ass, “then I’m going to have to start calling in to work.”

You giggle and buck back into him, teasingly, “It’s okay, you’re the boss.”

“Nah, you’re the boss, pretty bird. From this night on, I’m at your beck and call. Fall to my knees and worship you, servant to your every whim, ready to topple kingdoms should that be your wish,” you can feel his goofy, lopsided smile against your ear.

“A boxer and a poet? A lover and a fighter? Who knew you contained such multitudes, Djarin,” you quip, but secretly melting at his romantic words.

“Such a perfect night, baby. You’re so perfect.” He kisses your shoulder, then nips it lightly with his teeth for good measure, causing you to yelp in surprise.

Turning over, you snuggle in under his chin, “You were pretty good tonight too, old man.”

“Just want to be good for you, pretty bird. Want to always make you feel good.”

“You do, Din. You make me feel so cherished, and wanted, and sexy, and safe. Really,” and you pull back to look him deep in his eyes, “I meant everything I said tonight, baby. It’s okay to share your world with me; I won’t judge. Please don’t ever feel like there’s no place for me by your side; it’s where I want to be.”

“It’s where you belong,” he counters, sealing this declaration with a sweet kiss.

Turning back over, you hold on to Din’s forearms and nest back into his protective embrace; smiling to yourself as the sounds of Din’s gentle breathing lull you into a peaceful sleep.

#din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #modern au #no y/n #modern!din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff

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thefrogdalorian · 9 months

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Dincember Day 22: Cozy

Word Count: 855 Rating: General Summary: When Grogu wakes up upset in the middle of the night, both you and Din are concerned for him. But getting cozy and cuddling with his Clan soon brightens the little boy's mood. Content Warnings: Allusions to past trauma but nothing detailed! Author's Note: Oh to get cozy and cuddle with Din and Grogu. yEARN,, ING. Little shorter than my usual today because I had a busy (but very fun) day! Exchanging presents and catching up with friends always makes my heart so full at Christmas time. Hope you enjoyed this one! ♡

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

You opened your eyes and instantly realised that something was different, what exactly you weren’t quite sure of. It wasn’t until you reached a hand out and discovered an empty, somewhat cold spot next to you on the cot that you realised Din was not next to you. It was the first night you were spending together in the cabin that he had brought to you for a snowy getaway. You were about to leap out of bed and search for Din, momentarily fearful that something terrible had happened, when the door opened and revealed a familiar figure.

You noticed as Din shuffled into the room that he was carrying Grogu. You looked at Din concernedly, wondering why Grogu was with him. It was not uncommon for Grogu to make his way into your room sometimes after you had slept. The child was occasionally prone to nightmares and used his abilities with the Force to leap into your bed and nestle between you and Din for comfort. You never minded, but Din fetching him like this was rare.

“Sorry, he woke me up. I could hear him crying from his room,” Din offered as an explanation for both his absence and Grogu’s presence.

“You don’t have to apologise,” You replied, sitting up.

“I just didn’t mean to wake you,” Din said as he handed Grogu to you and clambered into bed beside you.

“It’s alright, Din. You didn’t wake me up when you left. I guess I woke up eventually because I realised you weren’t here. The cot didn’t feel as cozy,” You reassured Din. Then you turned your attention towards the little boy in your arms who had apparently been upset: “What’s up with you, buddy?”

Grogu looked at you, his brow furrowed on his wrinkled head. His eyes were glassy from the tears he had seemingly been shedding.

“I don’t know if he had a nightmare. Perhaps the change of scenery and coming somewhere new has unsettled him,” Din suggested.

“Perhaps,” You agreed. Sometimes the reality of being unable to communicate with Grogu in words made things extremely difficult on your emotions. It was precisely a time like this when you wished more than anything that you could speak to him, to know what was going on inside his little head. “Whatever it is, I think he needs lots of cuddles. Do you want to sleep in here tonight with me and your dad?” You asked Grogu.

The little boy nodded slowly, still looking at you with wide, sorrowful brown eyes. Your heart ached at such a sight; your ordinarily vibrant, cheeky boy was deeply upset for some unknown reason.

“Okay, little guy,” You soothed as you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead once again.

Din lay back on the bed and you placed Grogu on his chest. The little boy shifted so he was nestled in the spot between his father's neck and shoulder. Din rubbed soothing circles on Grogu’s tiny back; you watched them fondly for a second, before you joined Din lying down. You positioned yourself on Din’s chest too, sighing happily when his arms wrapped around your waist as your cheek rested on his broad chest. You reached down to pull the blankets around your little Clan so you were all warm and comfortable, bundled up tightly from the horrors outside.

You heard a rustling next to you, watching as Grogu positioned himself closer to you so he was lying on Din’s chest, rather than nestled in the crook of his neck. You looked at Grogu, watching closely for any signs of discomfort on his face. But it seemed that a little time cuddling with you and Din had done wonders to soothe whatever anxieties he had. Fortunately, Grogu looked a lot happier. Knowing that he was warm and safe on his father's chest and cuddled up next to you, who cared for him just as deeply.

“Goodnight, Grogu,” You whispered as his enormous lids began to droop over his equally sizable eyes.

Seeing the upturn in Grogu’s demeanour meant that you could enjoy the coziness of the moment. Lying here in Din’s arms, knowing that you were comfy and snug underneath the layers of blankets from anything that lay outside was incredibly reassuring. You both knew pieces of Grogu’s life, things that he had been through that were more than any child should ever have to experience. But he had found a home, a safe haven and parents who loved him very much. Against all odds, Grogu had found sanctuary with you and Din, two people who had endured many trials and tribulations too. You felt incredibly lucky to have the two of them and that you had somehow, in a galaxy so vast, ended up by each other's side.

Your cheek rested on Din’s firm chest and you sighed contentedly as you listened to the reassuring, steady beats of his heart and the shallow, even breaths coming from Grogu, who was nestled beside you. With the weight of the blankets and your Clan by your side, you were certain that you had never felt more cozy.

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #my fics #seriously so tired but happy i managed to write this !!#i went to my geek friends' house and we did a star wars quiz lmao i slayed at the mando questionssss

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 2 years

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A Fresh Start [10]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: mentions of nightmares and past trauma, shooting training

Word Count: 4,634

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #10: SHOW OFF

Chapter Summary: Cozy wake up calls and blaster fire.

“Your relationship should be a safe haven, not a battlefield. The world is hard enough already.” bliss

It wasn’t your alarm that roused you from sleep but rather a tiny hand patting your cheek repeatedly. You blinked your eyes open and found Grogu sitting on your bed with his hands on your face. Noticing your now open eyes, his entire face brightened. “Ma, Ma, Ma. Skraan, Ma!”

“Mmm no skraan. We’re just gonna go back to sleep. Sound okay to you?” You teased.

“No, Ma. Skraan.” Grogu tugged on your ear trying to make you sit up. With a tired grin, you wrapped your arms around him and tightly pulled him into your chest. Grogu squealed in response. You tickled his sides and his giggling helped energize you. For days now, you had been plagued with a mix of haunting memories and terrible nightmares. It was as if that first night Kurt visited your dreams he had taken root and you couldn’t shake him. “Buir! Help! Buir!”

You chuckled and squeezed him tighter. “You’re mine now, silly. We’re gonna nap all day long.”

“Grogu?” Mando called out. The boy called out for help once more and you could hear the modulated sigh before Mando peered into your room. He was still in his sleep clothes, but you found the simple shirt and sweatpants was really growing on you. It felt odd to see the only bit of besker being his helmet, but you couldn’t deny how much you loved seeing his arms and hands. Mando set his bare hands on his hip as he stayed in the doorway. “I told you to let her sleep, you womp rat.”

“Buir, help!” Grogu called desperately but the laughter drowning his words was downright contagious. You grinned and the smile widened at the sound of Mando’s deep chuckle. “Buir!”

“Call him all you want.” You peppered his head with kisses. “I’m not scared of some Mandalorian.”

Mando crossed the room until he stood at your bedside. He stared down at you, towered over you, and his hoarse modulated voice, though amused, held a tone of challenge. “Not scared of me, huh?”

Your mouth went dry, and you were suddenly very awake. Grogu tried to wiggle away so you readjusted your hold on him and rolled over so you were laying on your back with him on your chest. You swallowed the lump in your throat and kept your voice as steady as you could. “Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ in the word and smirked. “Not even a little.”

Mando chuckled then suddenly threw himself forward. You yelped in alarm, but he caught himself at the last second so instead of landing on top of you he instead hovered above you. His hands boxing you in on either side, and his knee resting on your bed to keep his balance. Heat flooded every inch of your body⏤ had you just spontaneously caught fire? It sure as hell felt that way. You stared wide eyed into the reflective black t-shape of his visor. Slowly, Mando tilted his head, “Not even a little, you say?”

“Uh, I⏤ Admittedly,” You blurted. “You can be…intimidating.” Maker, he was all you could see. You knew he had broad shoulders, had admired them a time or two or hundred, but having him hover over you in this way made it that much more obvious. Clueless to your turmoil, Grogu lifted his hands to try and reach his father⏤ still laughing. “But I’ll have you know, I’m immune to it. I’ll never give in.” Mando leaned down closer, truly boxing you in, and he was close enough that Grogu’s small hands were able to clutch at the collar of his shirt. If you even lifted your head a little, you’d be able to headbutt him. “I, uh… You won’t win, Mando. I’ll never leave this bed, and Grogu is staying with me.”

“Interesting.” Mando hummed.

Unable to find your voice, you just nodded quickly. Mando picked up one of his hands form the bed to carefully untangle Grogu’s hands from his collar. Once free, he sat up and you immediately missed his close presence. Mando kept one knee on your bed.

“Last warning.” He said. “Give in or face the consequences.”

For a second, you pitied every single bounty he had ever chased down. At least here in this scenario it was playful and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Mando would never hurt you in a million years. To actually have the Mandalorian chasing you down? The thought both terrified and excited you. You were starting to question your sanity.

“Now…” Mando drew his words out, “Do you surrender?”

There were a handful of words and phrases you knew in Mando’a. Partly because it was helpful to know them since Grogu used them so often day to day, but also because you just enjoyed the action of learning. Regardless of the topic. That being said, just a few days ago you had heard Mando tell Grogu ‘Absolutely not’ when the child tried to eat something he shouldn’t.

You tried to bite back a smile and look as serious as possible, “Nu draar.”

Mando took in a sharp breath. It was so faint you nearly missed it. Then, without any preamble, Mando scooped his arms under you and picked you up without even a flinch or sign of struggle. Grogu chirped in excitement, clapping his hands, and you quickly wrapped one arm around Mando’s neck to stabilize yourself.

“Maker!” You said in shock.

“I warned you.”

Grogu was bouncing on your belly so you kept the arm not wrapped around Mando loosely around him to prevent the kid from tumbling over. Mando began to walk out of your room and used his foot to kick the door open further. Mando carried you as if you weighed nothing. You let out a nervous laugh, “How are you⏤ I’m not too heavy?”

“Cyar’ika.” Mando scoffed. “All my armor is pure beskar.”

“I⏤I don’t know what that means. That’s the type of metal it’s made of?”

“Yes.”

“Is beskar heavy?”

“Yes.”

You tilted your head. “How heavy? How much does your armor weigh?”

Mando shrugged and the movement reminded you that your arm was resting on the bare skin at the back of his neck. The sliver of flesh was warm. Anytime you had the opportunity to feel him, Mando was always so warm. “Wearing all my gear, including the jetpack and weapons, I’d say maybe forty-five kilograms?”

“Forty five⏤ What?”

“What?” Mando replied as he hadn’t just admitted to walking around with a hundred pounds of gear on him at all times. You thought about how easily he moved around while in the armor⏤ how quick he could be. Maker, how strong was this man?

Mando walked you into the kitchen then bypassed the island counter to head toward the living room. He carefully set you down on the couch and all you could do was stare up at him in a mix between shock and awe.

“Gar parjir, Buir?” Grogu asked. The only word you recognized was Mando’s title.

“Gar serim.” Mando replied. He held his hands out to the boy, “Vaabir gar copaanir at gaa'tayl ni ve'ganir Ma lor'vram?”

You distinctly heard the word ‘Ma’ in all of that. Was that a similar sounding Mando’a word or had Mando just referred to you as ‘Ma’ just like Grogu does?

“ ‘lek, ‘lek, ‘lek, ‘lek!” Grogu jumped into Mando’s waiting hands.

You opened your mouth to ask questions, but Mando beat you to speaking. He also motioned for you to stay on the couch. “We’ll be back. Grogu wants to get you breakfast.”

“That’s not necessary. You already let me sleep in and⏤”

“It’s your day off, cyar’ika.” Mando chuckled. “Just wait here.”

Grogu held his hand out to you, his face drawn in nothing but seriousness, “Ma stay.”

“Yeah, Ma,” Mando said and your eyes widened at the confirmation of what he must have called your earlier as well, “Stay.”

You leaned back into the couch, sinking in its seats, and Mando and Grogu walk back to the kitchen. The absolute giddy smile on your face could probably be seen from the Inner Rim it was so large. You were glad Mando was focused on whatever he was doing in the kitchen so he wasn’t watching you watching him. If you gave into the temptation, you could sit here and pretend that this was actually your life. Not a nanny with her boss and boss’ child, but a mother with her husband and son. You couldn’t give into that temptation though. It was pathetic to think that way, wasn’t it? Probably. In a poor attempt to distract yourself, your mind decided to think about the bad dream you had been stuck with last night. You flinched and a hand lifted to the scar on your chest.

Maker, you were bad at thinking this morning.

With a huff, you tried to clear your mind and just focused on the movement in the kitchen. Mando was working on something and you could see him allowing Grogu to actually help rather than watch. The moment was so peaceful and calm that you felt your eyes droop. Getting up to wash your face and clean up would probably help keep you awake, but Grogu had looked so cute asking you to stay. A unit of Imps wouldn’t get you off of this couch.

Another minute or so passed then Mando helped Grogu off the counter. He asked something in Mando’a and the little boy called out an affirmative before holding his arms out. Mando carefully handed him a plate. Excitedly, Grogu waddled away from his father with breakfast in hand. Mando lingered in the kitchen, but you kept your gaze on Grogu who walked around the couch until he stood in front of you.

“Ma!” Grogu declared.

You took the plate from him, which was filled with a few different fruits and your favorite bagel toasted. It was your typical go to simple breakfast. “Thank you so much, baby.” Grogu began to step away before turning back around and holding his hand out. You picked up a slice of the fruit you knew he liked and offered it to him. “Here you go.”

“V’ore.” Grogu shoved the fruit in his mouth.

“You already ate your breakfast, womp rat.” Mando lightly scolded as he came into the living room with a mug of something hot. Grogu cackled with laughter and rushed away. “Don’t run with food in your mouth!”

You set the plate on the couch beside you and took the mug of caf that Mando held out. He sat down on the other side of the plate⏤ the picture of casual. You wrapped your hands around the hot mug enjoying the warmth and smell. “Thanks, Mando. You didn’t have to do this.”

“As much as you do for us, it was the least I could do, cyar’ika.”

“I can’t believe I slept through my alarm.” You hummed and took a slow sip.

Mando shrugged. “I… may have stepped in and turned it off.” Your eyes widened in surprise. He sighed. “Sorry. You seem more tired than usual. I thought you could use a little extra sleep, and since I was off today…”

The consideration warmed your heart more than the mug did your hands. You nodded. “Thank you. Really. I appreciate that.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you enjoyed your caf and slowly enjoyed the plate of food Grogu had brought you. The kid had run off to his room, but he was now in the process of dragging his toys from where they were tucked into a chest below his hammock out to the living room to play with.

“Can I ask you something?” Mando cleared his throat.

You chuckled and decided to tease him with his own words. “I thought we were past being timid, Mando.”

“Funny.” Mando replied, but you motioned for him to go on. He shifted where he sat so he faced you more comfortably. “Are you having nightmares again? Reliving bad memories?”

You recalled the question the two of you had in the middle of the night as you cleaned his injury. He didn’t follow up with anything else, and you could feel his heavy gaze on your features. You twisted your lips then focused your eyes on the plate between you. “Yeah. I am. The last few nights have been…kind of rough.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mando asked.

Your eyes snapped up to him with a small, tired laugh. “It felt silly to bring it up. You might be the big, badass Mandalorian, but you can’t chase my bad dreams away.” As the words left your mouth they felt wrong. It technically wasn’t true. The one night you fell asleep in Mando’s bed with him, you had a dreamless, restful night. “It was dumb. Not worth it.”

“You’re always worth it.” Mando replied softly. Your eyes widened marginally and he coughed once. “I mean, what you’re feeling⏤ If you’re troubled then… then talking about it is worth it. I don’t want you to needlessly suffer.”

You couldn’t hold back the soft, content sigh that left your lips. “I know your secret, you know.”

“My secret?” Mando questioned.

“You’re a big softie under all that hard beskar.” You took another sip of your caf. Grogu had finally settled on the floor with the toys he chose to bring in and you chose to watch him. Still, you could feel Mando’s gaze on you, but you were much too nervous to glance back at him.

Grogu mumbled to himself playfully as he surrounded himself with his stuff. It came as no surprise to you that Mando spoiled the boy rotten. You had seen, first hand, the way Grogu would find something in the market and ask for it until Mando caved. It usually only took a few pleas before he’d buy the toy. At one point, Grogu grabbed him by the cloth of his pants and attempted to drag him off of the couch. Mando let out a sigh, but he didn’t hesitate to scoot off the couch and sit on the floor with his son. Grogu pointed at Mando’s helmet a few times.

Mando shook his head. “Meh gar copaanir Ma olar, enteyor haaranovor troan.”

Grogu glanced at you before nodding with a quick chirp. He went back to playing. Mando more or less just followed along and did everything Grogu motioned for him to do. You continued to eat and slowly finished your caf. Occasionally, Mando would say something else in Mando’a and you clung to every unknown word. Briefly, you wondered if it was the language itself that had a tight grip on your or just Mando speaking it. If you were a betting woman, you’d put credits on the latter.

Regardless of whether or not you’d let your brain play pretend, you knew for certain that you didn’t want to lose this⏤ couldn't lose this. An idea began to take hold and you only thought it over for a few seconds before deciding to follow through. You needed to ask before you lost your nerve.

“Hey, Mando.” You called out. He turned his head to face you. “Do you have any plans for today?”

He paused to think then shook his head. “No. Were you thinking of something?”

“Yeah.” You sat up so your spine straightened rather than curling into the couch cushions. The mug in your hand was empty, but you continued to hold it in your hands. “Can you teach me how to shoot a blaster?”

The absolute last thing Din ever expected you to ask was for him to teach you how to work a blaster. It was so surprising that when it had happened, he had just stared at you in shock for a minute or so. You hadn’t elaborated on the question, didn’t even cutely ramble like you often did, and he hadn’t asked for any clarification. Add the request along with the mysterious scar and her nightmares and it created a picture that concerned Din greatly. Everybody had a past and he was learning yours may have been more violent than he ever would’ve guessed.

Din simply nodded to your request with a nod and rose to get ready. The best place he could take you to practice shooting without worrying about distractions or hitting something⏤ or someone⏤ important was the lava plains. Din didn’t even entertain the idea of bringing Grogu along. He wanted to focus on your lessons, truly teaching you how to shoot, and with his son there his attention would be torn. Half on you, and half on making sure Grogu didn’t wander away and eat something he most definitely shouldn’t.

Luckily, where he planned to set up the makeshift shooting range, they had to pass Peli’s workshop. After dropping him off and promising to be back after a few hours, Din led you out of the city. You had been your usual cheery self throughout the walk, but you grew quiet as stone paths turned to the black, glassed landscape of the lava plains. He wasn’t sure if this was because you were focused on taking in the new surroundings or if you were nervous about the lessons.

“Have you ever fired a blaster before?” Din asked. He set down the duffel bag he had packed and motioned for you to stand by it. He walked about 5 yards out and used a half empty can to paint an ‘X’ on the large boulder. When he returned back to your side, Din realized you hadn’t answered him yet. You shifted foot from foot and shook your head. “Then I assume you haven’t even held one before either?”

You gave him a sheepish smile. “Good assumption.”

He dug through the duffel bag looking for a specific blaster and mumbled an annoyance under his breath. It was moments like this he missed the Razor Crest all the more. Din had been meaning to get a weapons closet in the house, but he kept putting it off. When he found what he was looking for he held it out for you.

“All of my weapons are designed or altered for me.” Din said. “The grip would be too large for you to practice with.” He motioned to the blaster you now admired. “That might be a little bit too small, but it’ll work for today.”

“Why is this one so small?” You asked.

Din took your hands in his and arranged them so you could comfortably and efficiently handle the blaster. He cleared his throat. “It was designed for a child.”

“A child?” Your eyes widened. “Grogu can shoot??”

“Maker, no.” Din laughed at the thought. “He’s a menace enough without having access to a blaster.” You laughed in response, and being able to be the reason why made him preen with pride. He tapped his hand along the barrel. “It was mine. This is the blaster I learned on.” Your amused smile turned to something soft and warm, and Din wished he knew what you were thinking. “Alright. The rules.”

“Always keep the safety on unless I’m using it.” You began to list the basics he had stressed to you on the way here. “Don’t point it at anything I don’t wanna shoot at. Especially people. Uh,” You paused in thought, “My finger shouldn’t be left on the trigger?”

Din nodded. “Right. Keep it here.” He straightened your pointer finger to rest on the blaster above the trigger. “What else?”

“You said something about targets?” You winced sheepishly.

Din chuckled. “I did. Know exactly what your target is, and keep in mind what’s beyond it.” He leveled his voice to convey the seriousness of his next statement. “You have to be sure of yourself. Don’t pull the trigger unless you’re positive that’s the decision you’re making. Once you fire, you can’t take that back, cyar’ika.”

You nodded in understanding, “Got it.”

“Now,” He took a step back and motioned to the boulder, “Aim, don’t fire.”

You held the blaster up in front of you and made simple, rookie errors. Your elbows were locked, feet stood to match your shoulders, and your entire body screamed tension. Din nodded and went to work. As he adjusted your stance he explained each motion. Keep your arms loose, don’t lock your elbows. One foot a step back. You absorbed each bit of information he gave and followed instruction.

“Take a deep breath. Relax.” Din said. You took in a deep breath, but even after letting it out your body remained tense. He set his hands on your shoulders, lightly squeezing them. After a few seconds, he felt your body loosen up and unwind. Satisfied, he motioned to the boulder. “Flip off the safety. Take a few practice shots. I want you to get used to the blowback.”

“Will it hurt?”

“No.” Din shook his head. “The blaster’s too small for that, but it can still startle you if you’re not used to it.”

You nodded and after flipping the safety off he watched you fire a few times. The shots were going wide of the target, but right now Din just wanted you to get a feel for the weapon itself. He watched you intently, and his eyes traced from head to toe. Din was attracted to you⏤ that was no secret. He had seen you strolling through the market chatting with the vendors with a smile so bright it could rival the sun. He had seen you in your pajamas, Grogu in arm, rocking him while whispering a quiet song to him.

Maker, just this morning he had seen you laying under him in bed. A sight that nearly stopped his heart altogether. Din was so sure that moment would remain unchallenged as his absolute favorite way to see you, but this new sight was stiff competition. You, standing with a blaster in hand, focused on a target as you fired shot after shot. Din was obsessed with the idea of you handling a blaster. Weapons were a cornerstone of who he was, but he hadn’t expected it to be a turn on for him. Yet, here he was out in the lava plains with you resisting the urge to pull you in his arms, rip off his helmet, press his lips to yours, taste⏤

“Mando!” Your voice startled him. He shook his head and realized you had stopped firing to stare at him. Din had gotten more lost in his thoughts than he had intended. So much for staying focused on training. “Are you okay?” You lowered your weapon, barrel to the ground. “I asked you a question but you were just staring. Am I doing something wrong?”

“No. I’m sorry, cyar’ika.” Din cleared his throat and drew closer to you. “What did you ask?”

You grinned and motioned to the boulder which had various blackened marks from your firing, but not a single one touched the red ‘X’ he had painted. “I asked, how the kriff do I hit the target?”

Din huffed out a laugh. “For starters,” He tapped above your eyebrow, “Don’t close this eye. Keep them both open.” You nodded. He then pointed to the sight. “Line this indicator with the one at the end of the barrel. Then, before you pull the trigger, blow all the air out of your lungs.”

“Huh?”

Din drew his own blaster and took aim. He took in an exaggerated deep breath and exhaled it loud enough for you to hear. At the end of the breath, he pulled the trigger. You jumped in surprise at the sound. Din’s blaster was more powerful than the small one you were using. Your eyes darted from the blackened ‘X’ then back to him with wide eyes. Amused at your reaction, he glanced at the boulder and fired four more shots that hit the dead center of the ‘X’. From this distance, and being a still target, Din was confident he could hit the ‘X’ with his eyes closed.

You snorted and lightly elbowed him in the side. “Show off.”

Din beamed down at you and didn’t argue otherwise. If there were any other, more complicated, targets out in the lava plains he would’ve gone for that. Din wanted you to be impressed with him. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that⏤ to himself, at least. He’d walk barefoot across the lava plains before he ever let someone like Cara know that. He’d never hear the end of it.

“Come here.” Din holstered his weapon and motioned for you to stand in front of him. He let you place yourself in position first then corrected a few little things. You’d aim, fire a shot, then Din would advise you of a change to make. It only took about five minutes before you hit the target and the way your face brightened in excitement made him chuckle. After that, he spent another thirty minutes or so letting you practice.

You lowered the blaster finally, “Call it a day?”

“Sure.” Din nodded. As much as he loved spending time with you, he still wanted to spend some time with Grogu on his day off as well. He held his hand out for the blaster. Din watched you double check the safety before setting it in his palm.

“Thank you.” You said. Din stood from where he had knelt down to reorganize his bag, then pulled the strap over his shoulder. “I appreciate you taking the time to teach me how to shoot a blaster.” Din nodded and you began to walk beside him as the two of you made good pace back towards the city. A beat of silence passed before you spoke up once more. “I, uh, also appreciate you not asking why I wanted to learn to shoot today.”

Din shrugged. “It’s your business, not mine.”

“I just…” You began but stopped. Din didn’t press and just walked beside you slowly as you worked through whatever thoughts you were having. It wasn’t until the edge of the city was reached when you started talking again. “I thought if I knew how to shoot a blaster I’d feel…safer.”

“Did it work?” Din asked. He frowned at the aspect of you feeling unsafe.

You smiled with a small nod. “Yeah. It did.”

He nodded and you both took a few more steps before his hand shot out to gently wrap around your arm. You turned with eyebrows curiously raised, and Din tried to sort through his words. He let go of your arm and gave you a small nod. “I don’t know why you feel… not safe. I hope it isn’t⏤”

“It’s not you.” You blurted. His shoulders marginally relaxed. You reached out and knocked on the besker covering his chest. “Don’t you remember from this morning? I’m not scared of you.”

Din chuckled. “Right.” Feeling bold, he reached out and cupped the side of your face before he could second guess himself. You didn’t flinch or even tense. Instead, you leaned your face into his palm and Din took in a shuddering breath. He caressed his gloved thumb over your cheekbone then gave a single nod. “Whatever it is, I just want you to know that you’re safe here⏤ safe with me.” Din pushed out every word with as much sincerity as he could muster. He wanted you to know, to understand, that you had no reason to fear anything anymore. “As long as I’m here, nothing, no one, will ever hurt you, cyar’ika. I swear it.”

“I know.” You replied softly.

Din Djarin was wrapped around your finger. If he hadn’t been sure of it before, he sure as hell was now. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you.

mando’a translations

V’ore: thanks /// Cyar’ika: Darling /// Buir: Father ///

Gar parjir, Buir?:

You win, father?

Gar serim:

You’re right

Vaabir gar copaanir at gaa'tayl ni ve'ganir Ma lor'vram?:

Do you want to help me get Ma breakfast?

Meh gar copaanir Ma olar, enteyor haaranovor troan:

If you want Ma here, must hide my face.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #protective din djarin #good dad din djarin #mando x reader #mando x you #mando #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfic #grogu is a precious menace to society #star wars

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 1 year

Text

Reluctant Protector | Din Djarin

Part 1 of 2

Din Djarin x Fem!reader

Summary: After being abandoned as a child, you grew up working for one of the most prolific crime lords in the galaxy in order to survive. It all comes crashing down as a split second decision has the Mandalorian hunting you. As it turns out, your hunter might be the only one who can save you. After all, the lines between predator and prey have always been blurred.

Warnings: angst (what's new), mild language, panic attack, violence, fluff, mentions of human trafficking (brief), Mando being a fool in love, adult themes throughout, happy ending (again, what's new)

A/N: This one was from the request that I accidentally deleted (i'm so mad at myself), but it was RIGHT up my alley lol. I hope my sweet anonymous finds this and I hope it is everything you wanted and more 🤍 ALSO! I got sooo carried away so it's a two-parter for ease of reading. You can find part 2 below!

Part 2

You never should have met the Mandalorian Bounty Hunter.

You never should have left the comfort of your home planet as a child. You never should have known anything besides the warmth of your mother's arms. It does not make sense that someone like you would meet someone like him. It should not have been possible, not in a million sun cycles.

So how did your story and the Mandalorian's tangle? How did ‘never’ get overcome so easily, so swiftly?

The answer is rather simple. Anything that never should have been was thrown from impossible to possible the night your parents left on a date night when you were seven years old.

And never came back.

|||

You remembered everything from that night.

You remembered the way the rain pattered against the large window in the common room of your cozy home. You remembered the spread of stars peeking out from behind the rain clouds, ready to shine their light upon the newly-brought night. You remembered everything from that night, including the look upon your father's face when he said goodbye.

You were too young to understand it then, too little to catch the hint of despair and shred of desperation as he ushered your emotionless mother out of the front door.

"Be back before bedtime, mama! You have to finish that story you started last night," Your little voice rang out, a smile spread on your lips.

Your mother, almost numb, did not respond. Strange, she always did.

Noticing your growing frown, your father smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, "Goodbye, little one. We'll be back before you know it"

"Have a good night," You called back, already humming to yourself as you played with the toys your father had spilled out in a hurry before you, "Love you lots!"

You did not even glance up as the door shut, did not even seem to notice that, for the first time, your parents did not say they loved you too. Looking back, it was hard to fathom you had missed all of the signs. But you were just a kid, a kid. How could you have known? How could you have guessed?

How were you to predict that your parents would not walk back through that door?

When they did not make it back in time to say goodnight, you hadn't thought much about it. When you woke up and they still had not returned, confusion began to ring within your young, innocent soul. For the first day, you lost the worry to the joy that you did not have to go to lessons today. You ate what you wanted and played for as long as you liked, but when night came once more, you wondered when mama would return to finish her story.

The food ran out a week later, and it would only be a few more days until you would find out why exactly your parents had not returned.

Your small fingers worked anxiously on the drawing before you. It was all you could do not to burst into tears. Your mother and father were still not back, and you were hungry. You knew you'd have to go into town soon, but you had no money and no adults to protect you.

What had happened to mama and papa, you wondered? Were they hurt? Were they...were they dead?

That was when the front door opened for the first time in a week and a half, and your life changed forever.

You gasped as the door swung open, hope flooding your small being. You jumped to your feet swiftly and, with a bright smile upon your lips, sprinted blindly towards the man who had just walked through the door.

"Papa! I'm so-"

Your words died as you skidded to a halt before the looming Zeltron male before you. This wasn't your father, and your mother was nowhere near him. Taking a hesitant step back, your bottom lip began to tremble.

"Who are you?" You whispered, your small hands shaking and your youthful voice higher-pitched than normal. The magenta-skinned male tilted his head down at you, seeming to examine you closely for a moment.

"Vince Hanon," He replied, his voice smooth and flooded with calculation, "Your father owed me a great debt."

That was when you noticed the towering goons behind Vince, strapped to the teeth with blasters and blades alike. Your eyes widened a fraction before anger boiled through your blood. They hurt your parents, they were the reason mama hadn't come home.

Swifter than Vince or his men could predict, you shot to the side and grabbed one of the long-forgotten toys along the ground and hurled it at the tall Zeltron.

To your dismay, he caught it with ease.

A smirk danced on his face as he glanced at the toy and then at you with what seemed to be mirth. Without a word, his guards stalked forward, one pulling a pair of metal cuffs as he neared you. Surprisingly, Vince held out a single hand, stopping all movements of his men.

"Sir?" One asked, glancing back at him, "The next shipment of children leaves soon. If she is to join, we should-"

"Do not give this one to the Trade," Vince ordered, walking past his men and up to you. Ever so slowly, he knelt before you, "She is young enough to learn, and strong enough to survive."

"Survive what?" You blurted, your heart pounding in your chest, "What's the Trade? What are you going to do with me?"

Vince laughed deeply before you, "So many questions, child. You'll have your answers."

He stood before you, extending down a purple hand, "Come, I'm sure you're hungry."

And so, with no other choice, you took the strange man's hand and left.

Vince never lied to you. He told you the moment you left your home that your father had lost everything trying to pay back the debt he owed Vince. With nothing left to give but his only child, he had offered you up for the child slave trade.

For reasons you would never truly come to know, Vince did not trade you. In fact, he traded no other child after that night.

He informed you that he was the head of a group of people who did bad things for good reasons and rewards. It wouldn't be for another couple years until you understood that meant he was a Crime Lord. What he was doing was wrong, what he was training you to do was wrong.

But you were a kid, and you did what you had to do to survive.

You're not a kid anymore.

|||

Present Day

The barely-used knife pressed its soothing cool into the skin of your thigh as you sauntered through the compound. As you passed the counterparts you had known since childhood, they stepped aside with wary smiles.

They knew your true knife was not the blade with which you had a slightly below average affinity. It was your tongue.

“Look who it is, Vince’s little prodigy.” The sound of the ever-present guards outside of Vince Hanon’s office called out to you, their lips turned up in a not entirely taunting smirk.

“Good morning, lackeys,” You greeted in return, stopping before the large, steel door that held your boss’s office behind it, “Vince sent word that he wanted to see me, another assignment apparently.”

One of the guards snickered slightly, “Hopefully it has nothing to do with using that blade on your thigh. Vince’s little prodigy would be too dead to report.”

“So funny,” You deadpan, shaking your head at the guard.

“You know, if Vince let you train with me as a child you would be proficient in the ways of combat,” The one who spoke first insisted. With a taunting smile, you walked up to the door and patted the guard’s shoulder.

“I’d also be as stupid as you, which is exactly why he didn’t.”

The laughter of the two guards filled your ears and brought a smile to your lips as you pushed the button on the panel beside the door. The steel whooshed aside, revealing Vince’s office. With that easy smile still on your lips, you greet the Zeltron who saved you as a child. His magenta skin gleamed in the sunlight that streamed in through the massive windows that made up the far wall of the office, and his white teeth were a stark contrast to the dark color as he looked up to you and smiled.

It did not go unnoticed that he only smiled at you like that.

Vince Hanon had no lover and no children, but anyone who knew a fraction about him knew that the closest thing he had to family was an abandoned child whose life he’d spared all those years ago. He wasn’t the father you’d always dreamed of, but he was the one you had. He hadn’t sold you for profit as your first father had, he hadn’t let you play with toys or even be a child in those first years under his care, but he had made you independent in this cruel, uncaring galaxy. That was something so very few women got to be.

Vince Hanon made you self-sufficient when you should have died long ago, and it was that reason alone that made you grateful to him. Not caring, as a daughter would be to her father, as you knew he was with you, but grateful.

“My Prodigy,” Vince called out, standing from his massive mahogany desk carved with images of bones and crumbled towers along the legs, “It is always a pleasure to see you.”

“And you, Vince.” Your words were fluid and easy, not entirely a lie. A part of your heart was caught in anxious anticipation, though.

You knew what came next. You knew he’d give you an assignment that made every part of your soul cringe. You knew what came next would push you further down the path of corruption and darkness. You knew, with a biting horror that never seemed to leave you alone, that after a few more years of doing his bidding, that small voice that whispered its disgust would go quiet.

And you’d be just like Vince.

“I was pleased to see your last assignment was handled with efficiency and discreteness,” Vince complimented. You nodded obediently, your hands clasped before you.

“The debtor did not have the credits to pay the balance due, so it seemed the Hothian government misplaced the deed to her home.” You reported, the words less bitter on your tongue than they would have been a few years ago.

“And it was found with my name on it,” Vince finished for you, allowing a deep chuckle to resonate through the room as he walked to your side. He put his arm along your shoulders, pulling you to his side and walking with you towards the back of his office space, “Good work, my Prodigy. I am impressed with how far you have come.”

“Thank you, Vince.”

Your jaw was tight and that nagging grew in your soul. He was pleased that you’d placed an elderly woman onto the streets to repay the debt she owed. The debt to Vince for saving her son’s life after Vince had been the one to order his death.

Is this truly who you were now?

The thought did not last long, as you shoved it deep down and locked it in the same room in your mind where you kept that little girl sleeping in front of an unopened door, waiting for her parents. You did what you had to in order to survive. You had no choice.

How much longer would that lie placate you?

“I have been thinking,” Vince began again, stopping near the far wall of his office where a massive box covered with a large cloth sits. He removed his arm from your shoulders and stepped back to face you, “There is no one in this organization that I trust more than you.”

You blinked in surprise, the words slamming through you.You did not quite know how to feel when your trained eyes examined his features and expression and saw that he meant it, saw that he looked at you as a father would their child. Vince had trained you to see tells in a person’s face, and you saw none in his.

“You honor me, boss.”

Vince took a moment to simply examine your face, his eyes seeming to search for something. When he seemed to not find it, a small, real smile began on his lips.

“I have one more assignment for you,” Vince informed, that smile growing as he took another step back and closer to the covered box, “And if you succeed, I want to make you my Second.”

The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth dropping open the slightest bit. His Second, he wanted to make you his Second.

“But that would mean…” You trailed off, your eyes desperately searching for a tell of a lie on his face. You found none.

“You would take over for me when I retire.” Vince finished for you.

“Vince, I couldn’t-”

“Yes, you could.” His interruption was accompanied by a hand to your shoulder, “You have earned this, my Prodigy. You deserve this.”

His Second. You would lead this organization one day, you would be the next Vince Hanon. You would have power and control. No more would you have to fear for the next meal or the next morning. You’d be safe, in control, in power. You could change the way this was run, maybe even do some good.

This was the answer to the nagging in your chest, the horror in your soul. You could have a shot at redemption for all that you’ve done.

“Thank you, boss.” You whispered hoarsely, your voice not hiding an ounce of your emotion. Vince nodded and stepped back, those calculating eyes sweeping over your figure.

“Just one more assignment, child. One more, and it’s all yours.”

“Anything.” Your response was stronger this time, your eyes holding a hope that hadn’t been there since you were a child.

“A recent debtor repaid his debt. I need you to take care of it.” Vince’s words barely registered in your mind. All you could think of was your freedom. Then he pulled the cloth off of the box, and you realized it wasn’t a box at all.

It was a cage.

With a small gasp, your mind snapped back to this moment. The freedom you’d almost been able to taste came crashing down, and that horror roared in your soul so loudly that you actually stumbled back a step.

There was a child in that cage, a little girl who looks to be the same age that you were all those years ago.

“But you…you stopped selling to the Trade,” Your voice was a breath, your words ringing with terror.

“I did,” Vince conceded, stroking a hand along the cage’s bars and making the young girl in it recoil back as far as she could in the cramped space, “And my profits since have taken a steep drop. If I am to cement your future, I need to build up our reputation and savings again. I need to make sure every crime syndicate from here to the Outer Rim knows not to mess with us, with you.”

You were shaking your head, your heart racing and your mind fraying apart as if you hadn’t spent the entirety of your life fortifying it and trying desperately to forget.

“I can’t,” You gasped, shaking your head and taking back a step, “I can’t-”

“Yes you can,” Vince soothed, stepping up to you and holding your arms, “You’re ready for this. Think of everything this could bring you.”

Oh you were. As you stared into that scared little girl’s eyes, it was all you could think about. You were stuck awfully between flashes of your abandonment and what your future would look like if you did this one last assignment. The loneliness in the empty house, the empire you could build. The hunger that had set in after a week alone, the security of always having another meal. The betrayal that had burrowed deep in your chest, the power you could fill its hole with.

“She’s just another trade, a simple barter. Nothing more than the deed to a home.” Vince’s voice was an echo of your thoughts, the devil on your shoulder.

It would be so easy, so easy. After everything that you had been through, why should you care how your safety and freedom was bought? You deserved it, your life has been anything but fair. It would be easy. One trade, and the world, the very galaxy, would be in the palm of your hands.

But would your soul ever recover? Would you ever be able to look at yourself in a mirror again? You knew what happened to little girls who went into the trade, for being in this business you knew all too well of the perversions of the people in this galaxy.

Could you live with this?

Vince saw the flash of an answer in your eyes a moment too late.

The knife was already in your hand and thrown by the time Vince had just begun to open his mouth and shout for his guards. The knife lodged into his shoulder even though you’d been aiming for something more lethal. It was enough to stop him from rushing you, though. You sped forward and tackled him to the ground with every ounce of strength you had. His cry of pain was muffled by the hand you slapped over his mouth. In a quick move, you ripped the knife free from his shoulder and angled it at his throat.

Vince went as silent as death, his eyes wide with betrayal, with…with hurt.

Your chest squeezed painfully at the look in his eyes as you moved your hand from covering his mouth. He didn’t scream, he knew better, “My child, I’ve given you the world.”

His words were choked with tears, you realized suddenly. To your surprise, tears of your own gathered in your eyes.

“I’m not your child,” You whispered, clenching your jaw to keep your resolve, “And I don’t want the world if this is what it costs.”

There was a flash of rage in his eyes, and it made your stomach drop. You’d seen it before, but never directed at you.

“You do this,” His words were calculated and controlled, barely veiling his growing anger, “And I will never stop hunting you. I will show you just what I spared you from when you were a child.”

Something broke within your chest at the thought, but for the first time since seven years old, you weren’t shoving down guilt to do something. You could feel your heart open and free, your soul resting for once, and you knew that this was what you had to do. You need to be able to live with yourself, even if it means you lived a short life.

You are better than this, than everything you have done to survive.

You aren’t a kid anymore. You have a choice.

“So be it,” You murmured, and then slammed the handle of the knife against Vince’s temple. He was out cold as soon as the blow was delivered, which was surprising in itself. That move had never worked before for you. You’re glad it had now, because as you stood and moved away from the magenta-skinned Crime Lord, you realized that this was freedom.

You’re free now, and it was better than the freedom that you would have bought with the trading of your soul.

Without another thought to the consequences of your actions, you turned and sprinted over to the cage where the little girl sat crouched as far as she could in the corner. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion and hope as she looked up at you.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” You soothed, stooping down in front of the cage and looking at the lock.

Once you saw the shape of the key needed, you stood and jogged to Vince’s massive desk. It only took a few moments of searching before you snagged the key from under a stack of papers and forms.

A knock sounded on the massive steel door, but it thankfully remained closed, “Everything alright in there?”

Your pulse spiked dangerously and your heart missed a beat.

“Everything’s fine, lackeys,” You responded coolly, almost sounding bored, “Vince had to grab something from his chambers.”

This seemed to placate them, and you’re relieved that Vince’s chambers are attached to his office through a door at the very back. Knowing time was running out, you sprinted to the cage and crouched once more. Your fingers trembled as you undid the lock and threw the door open. The girl sat pressed into the far corner, and you let out a panicked breath as you extended a hand out to her.

“Come on, kid. We don’t have much time left.”

She examined your hand for an agonizingly long moment before realizing you weren’t going to hurt her. To your relief, she quickly took your outstretched hand and crawled out as fast as she could. You kept her hand in yours and tugged her towards the door at the back wall that leads to Vince’s room.

“How are we going to get out?” She mumbled. You pressed the button beside the door and it slid open easily, revealing a room of black silk and deep emerald walls. Tugging the girl in, you shut the door and made sure to press the lock button before pulling her towards the wall beside Vince’s bed.

You released her hand for a moment as you approached the massive painting that rested on the wall. Your fingers searched the edges desperately until they found a small button.

“Vince showed this to me when I was your age,” You panted, pushing the button and swinging the painting aside, “He kept it for a quick escape if the compound was ever raided.”

A large, dark hole was in the wall behind the painting—a chamber that led directly to the back of the compound. The young girl shook her head slightly, her eyes going wide as she peered into the dark reaches of the cavernous chamber.

“I can’t,” She whispered, her voice trembling, “It’s too scary, I can’t. I-”

Before you could even console her, the sound of a fist pounding on the steel door to the office in the other room echoed through the walls, “Boss, you in there? What’s going on?”

Your heart nearly stopped and you knew the guards, as stupid as they were, would notice the silence soon enough. Swirling back to the young girl, you did not wait for her response before you hoisted her into your arms and put her into the escape passageway. Thankfully, the girl had the sense to remain quiet despite her obvious trepidation as she waited in the dark for you to climb in after her. Once you had, you closed the painting as quietly as you could just as you heard the office being raided.

It was only a matter of time before they would see Vince unconscious and venture into his bedroom beyond. You had to move, and fast.

“Come on,” You urged, finding the girl’s hand in the dark and tugging her down the passageway. As you moved down a flight of stairs, you pressed the small button on your metal bracelet, releasing a soft glow of light bright enough to illuminate your next steps and banish the girl’s fear of the dark.

“Will they find us?” She panted, her small hand gripping yours tightly.

“They shouldn’t,” You replied, your eyes straining into the dark beyond the small glow of your bracelet as you took turns and twists and more passages to the depths of the compound, “Vince only told me about the passage.”

Even though that should have eased the girl’s tension, her grip on your hand did not relax. It took a few minutes of deep silence before she finally spoke again.

“You really were his favorite,” She breathed, a certain tremor in her voice. You could practically feel the weight of her large eyes burning into the side of your face.

For some reason, her words knocked you on your ass. This young girl knew who Vince Hanon was before she was taken by him, and she knew enough to have heard about you. Was this how the galaxy saw you? As Vince Hanon’s adopted daughter?

The thought made you shudder.

“Why did you betray him for me?” She asked into the thick silence, and a pang shot through your chest.

Your feet faltered, and you stopped the breakneck pace you’d been going at. With a trembling breath, you turned and looked back at the young child. The light from your bracelet lit up the contours of her face, the tear stains etched into her skin and the trauma haunting her young, innocent gaze.

“Because I was you a long time ago.” You swallowed, sudden tears swimming in your gaze as you took in the small child who nearly met such a cruel fate, “Because Vince saved me, and there was no one to save you.”

The words stung some deep, confused part of your chest. A part of you would always…be indebted to Vince. He was the holder of your chains, the destroyer of your moral compass, the tyrant of your life. But, no matter how much you tried to forget it, he saved you. He saved you when your own father would not, and he raised you as his own.

Some twisted part of you would always pity him, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

That’s why, without a word, you smiled sadly at the girl before turning and leading her the rest of the way out of the passage.

|||

The entire city was on high alert.

Moments after the girl and you emerged from the escape passageway and into a back alley miles from the compound, you heard the shouts and the sirens in the distance. Vince had run this city with an iron fist, he did not tolerate betrayal and the people knew that. But now, the King of Crime had been crossed by his own Prodigy.

Every goon he had working for him was now hunting for you.

Doors were shut and windows locked. The streets were empty and the last few stragglers were in no rush to speak to anyone they did not have to. Even now, only a few minutes after the crime had been announced publicly, Vince’s guards swarmed the streets, pounding on doors and demanding entry for searches.

“They’re everywhere,” The young girl you saved panted as you sprinted with her down back alleys and through abandoned shops, “Where will we go?”

“I still have some friends,” You assured in response, stopping suddenly at the back door of a normal, unassuming home miles down from where Vince’s guards were searching. Without pausing to explain to the girl, you pounded your fist desperately against the door. There was a rush of steps before an old, hoarse voice called out.

“We are closed to visitors right now. Come back later.”

“It’s me,” Is all you said in response.

The old fashioned door swung open almost instantly. You had to squint against the sudden flood of light until you could just make out the older woman who stood in the doorway peering down at you and the girl with calculating eyes. She swung her gaze between the terrified child and you before she finally let out a long sigh.

“You finally did it,” She mused, catching your gaze with a knowing look.

“He asked something of me I couldn’t do,” You informed, trying to sound detached even though your entire heart was upon your sleeve, “And I need your help.”

Behind the old woman, children zoomed back and forth of all species and ages. They laughed and played jovially, unaware of the chaos outside. This place was an Orphanage, one you visited quite often with what little money you had left after Vince’s paychecks. You never allowed the Orphanage Keeper to tell you her name for her own sake, but she’d made it clear that she would be at your service should you ever need it.

You needed it now.

The Keeper looked down at the young girl who still held your hand in a tight grip and hummed, “She’ll fit right in, the guards won’t even know the difference.”

Relief broke over you, and you turned from The Keeper to stoop down in front of the confused child.

“What’s happening?” The young girl interrogated, her voice quivering.

“This place is safe for you, The Orphanage Keeper will take good care of you. She’ll make sure you find a home and lead a normal life.”

She caught on to your tone quickly, realizing you were going to leave her here. She began to shake her head and back up from the doorway, “No, you can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me!”

Your heart shattered. Those words had haunted your own soul since you were just as old as she is. They’ve bounced around in your memories in ways you’ll never be able to put into words. To hear them come from her…Tears you did not try to hide fought their way to your gaze as you grasped the young girl’s shoulders.

“They won’t look for you, they’ll be too busy hunting me. As long as you’re near me, you will not be safe,” You explained, smiling sadly at the girl and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “We’ll see each other again, I just know it”

The girl sniffled, but nodded and slowly stepped away from you. The Keeper smiled down at the child, extending her hand, “Come, little one. Go on inside, I’ll be in soon to show you where you’ll be staying.”

With one last look back at you, the young girl turned and walked into the Orphanage. You stood slowly, watching her retreat into the building of laughing children. When she didn’t look back to you after that, you knew that she’d survive, that she’d make it.

“I have a ship. It’s old and hasn’t been run in ages, but it’ll get you off-world.”The Keeper’s rushed words snapped you back to reality and you looked up at her. Nodding, you ran a hand through your hair and gathered yourself back together.

“Don’t go to the Outer Rim,” The Keeper continued, rummaging through the small compartment by the door before she pulled out a small bag, “He’ll look there first. Try Coruscant, it’s swarming with New Republic. Vince wouldn’t dare go there.”

You nodded swiftly, your mind swimming with the rising surrealness of the perilous situation. Before you could turn and leave into the dark of night, The Keeper stepped forward and pressed the small bag into your palm. With furrowed brows, you looked down to your hand to inspect the small gift. Realizing exactly what was inside, you gazed back up at the woman sharply with wide eyes.

“You can’t give this to me, I can’t take this. It’s too much,” You rambled, trying to push the bag of credits back to The Keeper. She simply closed her weathered hands around yours and pushed the bag back towards you with a smile.

“This does not even begin to make up for all of the support you’ve given me over the years,” She rasped, tears glistening in her eyes as she realized exactly what you already know.

This was goodbye. You would not see her again.

“Thank you,” You breathed, knowing if you spoke any louder you'd be choking on tears. You were thanking The Orphanage Keeper for more than the credits in your hand. Through the years, no matter what horrors you committed for Vince and his gang, this Orphanage always reminded you of the light that still flickered in your soul. It reminded you that you were good.

“May the Force be with you,” The Keeper blessed, and your heart squeezed at the unfamiliar words.

“And with you.”

Then you turned and ran into the night, leaving behind the light of the Orphanage and its Keeper for good. It wasn’t long before you made it to the ship The Keeper told you about, and it’s even less time before you’re shooting up into the atmosphere and leaving the planet behind. As you set the ship’s coordinates to Coruscant, your mind raced.

How far will Vince go to get you back? To repay your betrayal in blood as you knew he would?

Before you could even come up with an answer of your own, the bracelet on your wrist beeped with an incoming message. You extended your hand out before you, brows furrowed and pulse slowly picking up. The hologram that lit up in your palm knocked the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into a dangerous rhythm.

The crackling hologram was simple and straightforward, projected not directly towards you, but to every known crime syndicate member and bounty hunter.

It was a picture of your face, your lips turned up at the very edge in the beginning of a smile. The words below sealed your fate.

“Y/N Y/L/N—WANTED ALIVE

BOUNTY—2 MILLION NEW REPUBLIC CREDITS”

|||

The wind cracked like a whip against your skin as you ran.

“You can’t run forever!” The shrill, sardonic shout of the Hunter made your fear spike as you sprinted through the crowded streets of Coruscant.

You would think that a New Republic-crowded planet like this one would mean at least one bystander extended their help as you so clearly ran for your life. Even these citizens and their senators knew the price of your bounty, though, and they did not raise a finger to help you.

Probably the entire force of the Guild was after you considering how high Vince was willing to pay to get you back. With that high a bounty, odds were that no one was going to help you.

This particular Hunter was alone, a grateful difference from the last few that had come after you. Most had decided to come in groups and split the bounty, which made them much more difficult to elude considering you weren’t the stealthiest person alive.

You ran desperately through the crowd that parted for you. Eventually you’d have to go back into the peril of open, abandoned areas, so you took advantage of the crowd as much as you could. You could see the end of the crowd in the distance, though, and knew that it was only a matter of time before the chase was just you and the Hunter and a stretch of open space between.

As you shoved through the last of the crowd that had kept the Hunter from firing his stun shots, you heard his voice ring out through the air, “No more hiding, sweetheart!”

Your eyes scanned desperately for another way out, for an escape plan or any plan really. Not having much of a choice, you took a hard right and sprinted into an alley. As a show to your incredibly bad luck, you found it to be a dead end.

“Shit!” You panted, turning so fast on your heel that your shoes groaned against the pavement. You stumbled to a quick halt as you found the panting Bounty Hunter blocking your way out.

“Vince Hanon wants you alive,” He mused, a slow smile spreading across his lips, “He didn’t say how alive.”

The Hunter raised his stun blaster and fired, but you’re expecting it and have already dive-rolled to the side. The shot soared past you, crackling as it did, and you wasted no time to see how close it came before you were on your feet and charging at the Hunter. With a war cry, you shoved the Hunter with your entire body weight before he could get another shot out. He grunted as he crashed into the wall, leaving the exit open for you to sprint out.

You did so with a pounding heart, your mind racing to come up with as many plans as you can. You raced down the sparsely populated street, your mind speeding for a solution.

If I can just make it into an outlet, then I-

A crackling fire erupted in your back and exploded across the entirety of your body. With a cry of pain, you dropped to the floor and could barely move your head to see the blue energy crackling across your being. Your body convulsed under the stun shot, momentarily paralyzed.

No. No, no, no, no. This can’t be it.

The pounding of footsteps slowed as they approached your downed form. You looked up in rage and terror at the Bounty Hunter. He shoved his blaster back into its holster and shook his head down at you.

“What a pity,” He uttered, smiling that slick, nauseating smile again, “I was going to take it easy on you. But now?”

You thought quickly of everything you could offer the Hunter that was more valuable than two million credits. Desperation rang through you as you came up empty.

“Please,” Your voice shook pathetically at the last attempt to save yourself, and tears gathered in your eyes. You could feel your body slowly come back under your control and you slid back and away from the Hunter. You hated this, you hated begging for your life.

I can’t go back, was all you could think, I can’t let him have me again.

“I like it when you beg,” The Hunter mused, walking ever so slowly towards your downed, retreating form. He was taunting you, and you both knew it.

When he finally reached you, he crouched and grabbed you by your legs, sliding you towards him.

“No!” You bellowed, thrashing wildly in his grip as he pinned you with his weight, “You bastard! Let me go!”

All sense and reason had left you. Begging wasn’t going to work and it only made him happier, so you wouldn’t try it again. All you had left was a burning terror in your gut of what would happen if Vince got you back. So, you fought the Hunter with all of the fire you had left.

The first slam of his fist into your cheek made blood spray from your now-busted lip. He couldn’t secure both of your hands in time to stop you from clawing at his face. You couldn’t fight well, but you could do that. His shout of pain was music to your ears, but he quickly secured your fists with one hand and continued his onslaught with the other.

“Stupid bitch,” He panted between hits, making stars dance in your vision, “Barely worth the two million”

Those words shouldn’t have wounded you, but you couldn't stop the hurt that exploded in your chest. With unbridled emotions, you spit a mouthful of blood up at the Hunter. He reared back in disgust, wiping your blood off of his face and peering down at you in pure hate.

“Just for that,” Is all he said as he pulled out the stun blaster. Your eyes widened a fraction and you could barely turn your cheek to brace for impact when the sound of a blaster exploded through the air.

But it never hit you.

Suddenly, the weight of the Hunter on you slid off and you turned your head up to see him crumpling to the ground with a burning hole in his chest.

Pure dumb luck.

Hope bursted through you as you scrambled to your feet and delivered an extra kick to the corpse, spitting more of your blood down on him before wiping it off your mouth with the back of your hand. You glanced up, looking around curiously for the one who fired and saved you.

Your gratitude died when your eyes found him.

The world slowed to an almost stop as panic, real and true, constricted your chest. Shining, dark silver beskar gleamed at you in the burning afternoon sunlight. He stood like an angel of death not thirty paces from you. You knew who he was, everyone knew who he was in your line of work.

The Mandalorian. Perhaps the best Bounty Hunter in the Guild, and the most ruthless.

He wasn’t saving you, he was taking your bounty for himself.

You stumbled back, your entire body aching but your mind screaming at you to go, run!

The Mandalorian began to stalk towards you and you turned, breaking out into a desperate run. You could only limp, though, and you knew he’d be upon you before you could stop him. You glanced back as you continued your pathetic excuse for a run, and your heart missed a beat when you saw he had almost caught up to you. Turning your head back forward, tears swam in your vision.

No, your mind repeated again and again and again, No, no, no

You couldn’t outrun him, you couldn’t outsmart him, you couldn’t overpower him. You were done. You were done, and the desperation in your chest revealed that you knew it.

Your exhaustion almost overpowered your adrenaline and you stumbled into the wall of a nearby building, bracing yourself against it as you tried to keep moving. Practically feeling his domineering presence behind you, your eyes searched the building’s edge for a weapon. The best you could find was an abandoned speeder wrench. You grasped the long tool in your trembling hand and whipped around, swinging the wrench with all of the strength you had left.

Your heart faltered as the Mandalorian caught your wrist with ease, looking down at you with that emotionless, daunting helmet of beskar. His grip was tight, but not bruising, on your wrist, and you dropped the wrench. You watched his free hand grab a small device on his weapons belt, and you knew immediately it was some sort of stunning device similar to the other Hunter’s.

“Don’t do this.” You knew your plea fell on deaf ears, but you had to try, “Please don’t do this, I can’t go back.”

His head tilted down at you, but he didn't say a word. The warmth of his hand seeped through the gloves he wore and burned into your skin as he held your wrist. A tear slipped down your cheek, searing its path across your skin. You could feel yourself give up.

You’d been running alone for nearly a week and had barely slept a combined total of three hours. Your body couldn’t take anymore, your soul can’t take anymore.

“Just kill me,” You suddenly begged, another tear slipping down, “If you’re gonna bring me in, just kill me. Please kill me, please.”

This seemed to stun the Mandalorian, because his grip on your wrist loosened slightly. The hand holding the stun device stalled and you heard him take in a breath.

“What?” The word was so simple and so low that you almost missed it, but the rumble of his gruff, modulated voice struck to your very chest. There was something in that voice…something you couldn’t quite place.

Something that made you think he might honor your request, that he might listen.

“Kill me,” You pleaded again, bringing the hand he didn’t hold to press against his beskar chest plate, “Don’t let him have me alive, I’d rather die. Please kill me,”

There was a charge in the air between you two that confused you, and you blamed it on the delusions your panic was causing. With his hand still holding your wrist and your hand on the cool metal plating his chest, you practically leaned all of your exhausted weight onto him. You could barely stand anymore, and you shut your eyes, turning your head and waiting for his killing blow.

Death was better than Vince Hanon.

You waited and waited and waited, but the blow never came.

“I’m not going to kill you,” The Mandalorian murmured, his voice like gravel and deceivingly soothing to your soul. Pure desperation makes another tear slip down your cheek as you open your eyes that are so, so tired.

“No,” Is all you could make out, lifting your exhausted gaze to his helmet.

“I’m not gonna turn you in, either.”

His words sent a shot of confusion through your soul.

“What?” You breathed, your brows furrowed.

“I won’t turn you in,” The Mandalorian repeated, his voice sounding just as confused as you, but with an edge of a vow that made you believe him.

“Thank you,” You mumbled, the adrenaline that had kept you awake for nearly an entire week seeping out of your system, “Thank you”

It probably was not smart, but you couldn’t stop your body from giving in to the need to sleep. You collapsed, your eyes slipping shut and your mind already shutting down into that blissful abyss of rest. As your body slipped to the floor, you felt strong, warm arms catch you. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted and pressed into cool metal.

“I’ve got you,” The Mandalorian vowed, his voice uncertain but his soul remembering what it felt like trying to turn in the Child when he first hunted him down, “I’ve got you.”

The Mandalorian held your sleeping form close to his chest as he walked past the outskirts of the busy Coruscant town and near the shipyard where the Crest awaits. To be completely honest, he didn’t know what he was doing. He needed those credits, and it had been all too easy to find you considering how many Hunters were on your trail.

Din stood there in the shadows of an alleyway, watching that Hunter take you down and approach your convulsing body. He watched with a blaster raised, ready to take the Hunter out and then claim your bounty instead. Din watched as you fought like a hellcat to be free, watched you spit your blood up at the Hunter.

When he took out the Hunter, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d done it to claim your bounty himself or save your life.

As he followed your limping form easily, not even having to run to catch up with you, he was so sure he’d collect your bounty. He had convinced himself he would, even after that familiar nagging of his conscience began.

Then Din caught you, and you begged for death.

Never before had a bounty done that, at least if he didn’t torture them for information first. Yet here you were, begging for death. Din had felt like a sort of Reaper as you sobbed and pleaded for your end, and suddenly he could not understand how the Reaper managed to fulfill those pleas.

In that moment, peering into your tear-filled eyes and seeing the desperation, the fear that wasn’t directed at him, Din couldn’t do it. He couldn't kill you, and he sure as hell couldn't turn you in to Vince Hanon.

So now here he was, carrying you to his ship with the intent of helping you escape.

It was stupid, Din knew that. He shouldn’t be doing this, he should have left you there on the street to fend for yourself. This wasn’t his problem. You weren’t his problem.But he just couldn’t. It was his biggest weakness, and everyone knew it. First with the kid, and now with you. Even now he couldn’t think of leaving you to fend for yourself, not as he looked down at your sleeping form cuddled into his chest as if you had never been held before.

Maybe you hadn’t, just as he hadn’t in a long while.

Ultimately, that was why Din let you cling to him in your oblivious sleep when he would have shoved almost anyone else off.

And it was in that moment that Din Djarin knew he was screwed.

|||

When you woke up, you didn’t recognize your room.

For a moment you stayed perfectly still, knowing that your memories would supplement the answer eventually. As you sat up slowly, you took in the cot you lay upon in the small room.

A ship, you determined.

That’s when the events of when you were awake came rushing back—the Bounty Hunter on Coruscant, nearly getting caught, the Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian…saving your life.

Why would a Bounty Hunter save you?

Instantly, doubt began to creep into your mind. Reason took over for desperation now that you were rested and in a Bounty Hunter’s ship. The Mandalorian was one of the best in the Guild, he would have said anything to get you onto his ship. He had to be on his way to Vince right now.

With a wary mind, you got off of the bed slowly. You tried to be as silent as possible, but failed horribly, as you crept out of the small room you were just sleeping in. As the door to the room slid open, you were met with the hull of a ship. It was relatively clean, but had small clusters of scrap metal and assorted belongings in corners of the room. To your right, as you glanced up, was a ladder leading to what had to be the cockpit.

He was probably up there right now.

Your breath was shallow, but you took your time to scan the ship warily. You paused upon a good-sized metal cabinet in the back. If there were any weapons in this ship, that’s where they would be. You walked up to the cabinet quietly, looking back towards the ladder to make sure the Mandalorian wasn’t coming down. As your fingers reached towards it, your mind was racing with plans.

You’d never beat him in any sort of combat, but if you could sneak up and surprise-

A choked gasp broke out of your mouth as a strong hand grabbed your shoulder and flipped you around. In an instant, you were pressed up against the metal cabinet with a beskar-coated arm barring your throat hard enough to keep you in place, but not enough to cut off your air supply.

“You really think that was gonna work?” He ground out, cocking his head down at you. Your chest was heaving with breath as you looked up at him, desperately trying to look tough.

“Did you really think I was going to let you deliver me to Vince without a fight?” You rasped back, your eyes lit with fire as you stared into the abyss of that beskar helmet.

“Deliver you to-” The Mandalorian stopped his sentence, sounding almost disgruntled as his arm loosened at your throat, “I told you I wouldn’t. I keep my promises.”

“How do I know that?” You countered, suddenly trying to ignore the burning heat of his arm against your throat, even with his armor in the way, “How do I know you’re not gonna say anything to keep me docile before delivering me to him?”

The Mandalorian stopped for a moment, but even as he did your words felt wrong. A part of you, deep within your chest, knew you could trust him. But you were raised to trust no one, so you ignored the intuition and stood your ground.

There was a thick silence as you waited for his response, but it was anything but silent. You were all too aware of how close his body was pressed to yours, of the heat that radiated off of him and the charge in the air.

“If I wanted to turn you into Vince Hanon, you’d already be there,” The Mandalorian finally reasoned, stepping back from you and dropping his arm as if he too realized the intimacy of your position, “You slept for two and a half days, you can check if you think I’m lying.”

A part of you wanted to check just to spite him, but as much as you hated to admit it, you believed him. You stayed with your back against the metal cabinet and observed the Bounty Hunter.

“Where are we going, then?” You inquired, the skepticism heavy in your tone.

“Serenno.” His reply was short and clipped, but you still visibly reacted.

“Serenno?” You retorted, already shaking your head, “That’s Outer Rim. I won’t-”

The Mandalorian cut you off, taking only one menacing step towards you, but it was enough to make your words die.

“You tried the populated, New Republic planet and obviously that didn’t work for you. Vince probably has men crawling through that sector now, so the Outer Rim is our best bet.”

Our? The word came off of his tongue so naturally that it struck a chord deep in your chest. “I was advised to stay away from there. Vince has men patrolling for me there. Why would it be any better now?” You cut back.

“Because now you have me.”

He didn’t raise his voice, didn[t even sound pissed off, but there was something in his words that sent a chill running down your spine. An arrogant man would say those words carelessly, and you knew exactly what it sounded like coming from them. But The Mandalorian? He wasn’t arrogant. He was sure, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack just yet, it made your heart miss half of a beat.

“If you’re gonna make it out of this, you have to trust me,” He followed up. You almost laugh.

“That’s not happening,” You quipped, but your eyes told a different story. You didn’t want to stroke his ego by telling him that he was already the most trustworthy person you’d met in years. “How are we going to make it out of this anyway?”

There it was again. We. Why had you said ‘we’?

“Only one way that I see,” The Mandalorian responded, turning from you and walking over to a corner of junk on his ship, “Kill Vince Hanon.”

He said it so casually, but it didn/t stop the words from choking you from within. That should have sat easily with you considering what he had almost made you do before you betrayed him. And yet, after everything, you couldn’t fully convince yourself you’d land a final blow if the time came.

There was a long silence, one that indicated the conversation was over. The Mandalorian turned to the ladder, ready to go back up to the Cockpit when you called out to him suddenly, almost desperately.

“Why are you helping me?”

He paused, his back to you as it had been for the last few minutes. He turned his head slightly in your direction, but didn't turn around.

“I don’t know,” He grunted out, then turned and went up the ladder.

He was lying, you knew it the second he spoke. Vince trained you to see tells, and you could see them even through his helmet. You didn’t have time to ponder why he really was helping you when another door near to the one you were sleeping in slid open.

You turned towards the noise, confusion and wariness springing up in your gut. You hadn’t known he had a crew, you had just assumed it was him alone in this ship.

So, considering that, surprise isn’t quite the right word to describe what flashed through you when you watched a child walk out of the room.

“What the-” You breathed, your words dying out on your own as the small, green toddler stopped outside of his room and looked up at you with massive, dark eyes.

Before you could even call out to the Mandalorian, you hear a rushed curse followed by the thud of his feet slamming against the ship’s flooring as he jumped from the ladder. Suddenly, the beskar-coated Bounty Hunter is storming over and scooping the child up into his massive arms.

“What are you doing out, kid?” He scolded softly, but even you could hear the tenderness in his voice—the mark of a father. At least, what you imagined a father would be like.

The child tilted his head up at the daunting, death-bringing Mandalorian and smiled, reaching out with his tiny hands out to the Hunter. You could hear The Mandalorian sigh in resignation, tucking the child close into his body, “You make it hard to be mad at you, kid. You know that?”

Watching this angel of Death, the Hunter who almost became your reaper, cuddle a small child to his chest with those hands scarred with blood and murder…you could feel your heart melting.

You knew instantly that you were in trouble, serious trouble.

The Mandalorian turned to you, holding the child close, “It seems I have a knack for sparing the bounties I’m given.”

Surprise skittered across your face as you took in the meaning in his words. Any small amount of doubt in your safety with this Mandalorian suddenly dissipated into ash. You’d never tell the Hunter that, but you couldn’t deny that his word was good. He said was going to help you, and that’s what he was going to do.

“Cute kid,” You managed to get out, not being able to stop the smile that grew onto your lips, “He’s lucky to have you for a father.”

The daunting, ever-stoic Mandalorian suddenly seemed to grapple with his words, and it takes more effort than you’d like to admit to keep the amused smile on your lips from turning into a laugh.

“I’m not his blood, I’m just watching out for him.” He finally settled on.

Something haunted and broken suddenly speared into your chest, and you knew from the way the Mandalorian’s back stiffened and head tilted that it passed across your face. With a smile that’s sad and built with years of heartache, you locked your gaze with the Bounty Hunter that spared you.

“A father isn’t always bound by blood,” You nearly whispered, breaking away from his gaze and reaching up to run a soft, caressing finger across the child’s large ear. He giggled, leaning into your touch. You smiled wider, this one less sad than before.

“He’s a lot to handle isn’t he?” You asked. The Mandalorian stiffened, seeming defensive.

“No. He’s actually-”

“I was talking about you, Mando,” You interrupted, looking away from the kid’s large eyes and up to the Mandalorian with a raised brow. He cocked his head down at you.

“Careful, I can still turn this ship around and take you to Vince,” He threatened, but you knew now that he never would. Somehow, you just knew that.

“Sure you will,” You taunted, smiling up at him before taking a step back from the kid who reached after you, “What’s your name anyways, Mandalorian? Or am I expected to call you Mando for the rest of our lovely time together?”

“Why would I give you that?” He asked, his voice like gravel and silk all at once. He was a siren and you were a sailor—blissfully doomed from the start.

“Because you already have mine,” You reasoned, alluding to the bounty he took on you, “It’s only fair.”

He paused for a moment that stretched on long enough for you to know that he wasn’t going to give it. You nodded in response, clicking your tongue “Mando it is.”

You turned, walking towards the ladder that led up to the cockpit. You made it up a few rungs when his voice stopped you.

“Din.”

You froze, taking a few seconds to comprehend what he just said. With your back to him, you didn’t stop the smile that grew onto your lips.

“Thanks for saving my ass, Din,” You called back, before continuing up the ladder. It was so soft that you almost missed it, but Din chuckled quietly to himself below. The sound traveled down your spine and turned your heart molten.

You definitely were in trouble.

Then again, you always loved trouble anyways.

|||

The sun hung low in the sky, slinging the last of its light across the tops of mountains and through the lush rainforests stretching between the settlements of Serenno. As you and Din left the Razor Crest in a clearing and trekked towards a nearby city, there was a smile you could not stop from breaking free.

It wasn’t long lasting, for the moment the illusion of peace settled over your shoulders, the Mandalorian’s words were quick to remind you of the truth.

“Stay close to me. Don’t wander off, don’t go anywhere on your own. Keep your eyes open, and if you see anything tell me.” His voice was low and even and perhaps the most daunting sound you’d ever encountered. There was something so dangerous in the smooth, controlled tone modulated by his mask. It almost made you nod in easy compliance.

“I think you’re forgetting I’m used to this life, Mando,” You insisted, walking harder than you’d like to admit to keep up with his pace as the two of you entered the city, “I don’t need you controlling my every step. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Yeah? That worked out so well for you on Coruscant.” Din fired back at you, his voice not even ratcheting up in volume an inch. He didn’t even look over at you as he sauntered down the main street of the city. As the two of you walked, every stare that slipped your way left just as swiftly when they caught sight of the Mandalorian.

“I survived longer on my own than most would. I’m not saying I don’t need your help, just that I’m not a child for you to boss around.”

That seemed to strike a chord in his chest as he suddenly stopped and grabbed ahold of your arm, tugging you to a stop so abruptly that you stumbled right into him. Din steadied you with a hand on either arm, holding you so close that you had to crane your neck up to meet his unflinching helmet peering down at you.

“You think you can make it without me? Go ahead, leave.” He growled, finally showing a touch of emotion in his voice. You lifted your chin to meet his gaze, trying to ignore that way your heart could not seem to find an easy rhythm this close to Din. His words sent ice shooting through your chest, but much to your surprise, you found fire dancing up to tangle with it. You didn’t know whether to be intimidated or infatuated with him in this moment, and that thought was what jolted you back to reality. You stayed silent in response, because you knew the truth.

You would be dead within hours without the Mandalorian.

“That’s what I thought,” Din gritted out, his eyes sweeping over your figure for another moment before he let you go and began to walk away, “Now come on. We need supplies.”

You followed hastily, your eyes scanning the city for signs of hunters tracking you. As you struggled to think of anything besides the impact of Din’s words on you, Din stormed as far ahead of you as he could without leaving you completely behind. All the while, Din was trying to shove down the relief that you hadn’t taken his words seriously and left. The words had come out of his mouth, but within, Din had been begging you to see through the lie that they already were.

What terrified Din most was that he had practically just met you and yet he knew exactly what you could become to him should he not be careful. It was a fact that was hard to ignore when he looked at you and realized that you were the sun and him the moon—a mere reflection of the beauty before him.

Din shook his head to rid the thought, but to no avail. Instead, he grew grumpier and tried to increase the space between the two of you.

Trying to diffuse the tension, you jogged up to stay close to the Mandalorian and sighed, “So, what do we need to get?”

“Food, blankets, ammunition, anything else we’ll need to camp out here for a while,” Din responded. And, without even looking over at you, he spoke again.

“And we need to get you new clothes.”

You scoffed in surprise, looking down at your bloody and torn clothes. He was right, but it didn’t make you any less angry about it. You stormed after him, your fists clenched.

“You’re one to talk, Mando.” You retorted, catching up to him in time to hear his low chuckle. Immediately, your poor, unknowing heart stumbled at the sound and you found yourself once again, unable to be angry with the Bounty Hunter.

“That was a joke,” You realized, looking over at Din with surprised eyes, “Since when do you make jokes?”

He didn’t respond to that, just kept leading the way deeper into the town, “Get a move on, trouble. Can’t spend too long in town considering your luck.”

You followed with a small smile on your lips. It took hours to gather all that you needed to camp out on Serenno, and when Din finally began to turn and head back to the Crest, you almost cried in relief. Your arms ached with all of the wares you helped carry, and you were well past the exit of the city when Din finally began to explain to you the plan.

“We’ll hide out here for now. It’s quiet enough,” He assured, the Razor Crest coming into view as the two of you delved into the dense rainforest just before the clearing where it was parked, “Once we come up with a solid plan to take out Vince, we’ll move.”

Once again, the notion of ‘taking out’ the Zeltron who raised you struck you harder than it should have. You were able to hide it earlier, but as you exited the last of the trees obscuring the Crest, Din did not miss the way you went uncharacteristically silent. He didn’t say anything at first, and you thought he might let it go. As the two of you boarded the Crest and dropped the supplies onto the floor, the kid walked out of the room his crib sat in and looked up at you with wide, excited eyes. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello there,” You cooed, stooping down and picking him up, “Glad to see you missed me already.”

The child giggled in response, babbling some nonsense that you couldn’t quite understand. You felt the Mandalorian’s presence before you saw him, especially with how the attention of the child immediately switched to over your shoulder. You turned, not even meeting Din’s stare as you handed him his kid. The little one went happily, grabbing onto his caretaker as if he were anything but a feared Bounty Hunter. You smiled at the child before turning and walking with the clothes Din had bought you to your makeshift room to change. Before you could make it in, though, his voice called out to you.

“You don’t want to kill him.” Not a question, a statement.

So much for that.

Confliction tearing through you, you turned around and faced the Mandalorian and his child once again. Your eyes darted from the Mandalorian’s beskar helmet to the small child he held so close in his arms, and then back again. You could do little to hide the brokenness lingering in your gaze.

“I know it’s wrong,” You whispered, not fully understanding why you were being so vulnerable with this stranger, “I hate him. It should be easy to want him dead. It would solve all of my problems. But…”

The words you couldn’t say spoke just as loudly in silence as they would have in the air.

For a moment, you feared Din would push the matter and force the truth of your past out. Instead, he sighed and set down the kid, “Get changed. I’ll have a meal ready when you’re done.”

And that was that. He turned and walked away, going to do as he said. You stared for a moment in surprise that quickly shifted into a deep gratitude that spilled into your aching chest cavity. Din hadn’t forced you to say anything. He’d seen you were uncomfortable and he had let it go.

This Mandalorian was not who you thought he was, who he looked to be at first glance. With every passing day you spent with him, you realized your first impression could not have been further from the truth. With every day, you were proven more wrong about him in the best way possible.

And with every day, you wished you weren’t wrong at all.

Because how were you supposed to leave him in the end if you kept finding reasons to want to stay?

|||

It had now been weeks since you’d joined Din and the two of you had settled on Serreno.

In order to continue funding living while the two of you grappled with the best way to stop Vince and his bounty on you, Din had taken up a few smaller, low-profile bounties. He was careful not to pick up anything too forward since Vince had most likely noted by now that the two of you were together considering the debacle of Coruscant all those weeks ago.

And every time he went on a hunt, you found a way to join him.

At first, it was surprisingly easy to convince the Mandalorian to let you accompany him on his hunt. You’d claimed it was for your safety and that it was best to be with him whenever you could. After the first few, though, Din grew reluctant to let you come. He now considered the hunts more dangerous than staying in the Crest with the Child. You were running out of excuses to go with him, because you would not dare tell him the truth.

You wouldn’t dare to imagine the pity spreading across his face beneath that daunting mask that had become almost home to you when he found out the truth. In the time you’d spent together, you had fallen into a sort of routine. Wake up, plot and plan, go into town for hunts, execute those hunts. He’d taught you basic combat skills, his gloved hands leaving traces of fire where they corrected your form, and Din had even begun to eat in front of you, just lifting up the bottom of his mask to do so and allowing you to see his strong jaw and lips.

Those lips would haunt you night after night in dreams you could no longer control. To put a long story short, you’d grown attached. Hopelessly attached. And now, you couldn't help but be terrified of him leaving and not returning.

Just as your parents had all those years ago.

The fear was irrational and you knew it. Din was a man of his word and he’d promised you he would see you through this bounty and so you knew that he would. And yet, with the attachment that had grown rather quickly between the two of you, so too grew a fear of losing someone you lo-

Your thoughts stalled on the next word, and with a bolt of butterfly-filled fear in your gut, you amended the word.

Care for. A fear of losing someone you care for.

After all, if your parents—the only people in the galaxy who were meant to love you unconditionally—could leave you, so could the Mandalorian.

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by the sound of Din walking out of his chambers, adjusting a piece of his beskar armor. He struggled with the piece, cursing it out roughly beneath his breath as an amused smile traipsed onto your lips.

“Need some help?” You called out, lifting an eyebrow at him. His gaze snapped to yours and he huffed.

“No,” He rumbled. You hummed, standing to your feet and walking over to him.

“Sure you don’t.” You did not wait for him to object as you grabbed his shoulders and shoved him down into a chair nearby and began to work on the beskar shoulder plate.

“I can do it,” Din informed rather defeatedly.

You laughed softly, “I know you can, big guy.”

Your fingers worked with the plate of metal until you realized he had strapped it on wrong. Swiftly and deftly, you removed it and were just about to replace it when you noticed a jagged cut in his shirt beneath. The cut revealed a patch of tanned skin with an equally long and jagged cut on it that was now red and inflamed. You sucked in a breath sharply.

“What the hell Din? Why didn’t you mention you got hurt on the hunt yesterday?” You pressed, quickly setting down the beskar plate and rushing for a med kit, “It’s probably infected by now!”

“I can barely feel it,” Din defended, but surprisingly stayed in the chair as you grabbed the kit you were looking for and jogged back over to him, “Besides, I was going to put some bacta spray on it later and-”

“Bacta, really?” You cut in, shaking your head at the bounty hunter, “Is that your solution to everything? Put bacta on it?”

He shrugged, “Worked so far.”

Shaking your head, you grumbled your disapproval as you peeled back his shirt to see the extent of the laceration on his arm. Noting that it wrapped around slightly to the front, you moved to stand before the seated Mandalorian to get a better access to the cut. As your fingers danced along the injury, his skin was impossibly hot to your touch.

Because of a fever, you convinced yourself as you opened the med kit and looked around for a surface to set it down on. Noticing your search, Din patted his lap with his hand.

The movement made you actually stutter for a moment. It was a harmless offer, but the sight of it sent shockwaves tumbling through you. With a clouded mind, you set down the med kit on his thigh on the side opposite to his injured arm. He kept the kit braced with his free hand as you stepped between his legs to get closer to his injured arm.

You wished you could say that you didn’t even notice the position as you began to apply disinfectant to the cut, but it seemed to be the only thing on your mind. Din’s body heat bolted into you with how close you were to him and the scent of his soap that still lingered along his body dizzied your mind and reminded you of star-filled nights and rustling trees.

As you looked away from the injury and to the med kit, you grabbed the stitching needle and expertly began to suture his cut closed. You threaded the first stitch through his skin swiftly and without warning, making him suck in a sharp breath before you and instinctively grab onto your lower waist with the hand not bracing the med kit.

You gasped softly at the unexpected contact and looked down, an apologetic look crossing your distracted, breathless features, “Sorry, should’ve warned you.”

Din shook his head, clearing his throat, “No, I’m good. Keep going.”

Yet his hand lingered on your waist.

As you began to stitch up his cut, every free part of your mind was centered on that large, strong hand that rested ever so lightly on your waist. When you were about halfway through the stitch, the tense silence was finally broken.

“Where did you learn how to do all this?” Mando asked, his voice sounding ever so slightly strained.

“Whenever Vince’s fighters would come back from missions, I’d help patch them up where I could. Our healer trained me in a few vital skills while he worked,” You narrated, your voice airy and light as your fingers worked with the needle, “I was always good with the difficult cases because I’d tell them stories while we worked and it kept them distracted. I never could fight well, but I sure as hell could talk.”

“I know you can,” Din mumbled, making a surprised laugh break through you. You looked down at him, peering into the dark reaches of his beskar helmet that looked up at you.

“Careful teasing me, Mando. I’m the one with a needle in your arm.”

He released a low, soft laugh and his hand on your waist tightened the smallest bit. That was the end of the conversation, but it was the beginning of something else entirely. No longer did your attraction live chiefly in your dreams plagued with beskar and a voice so alluring it haunted you. You were awake, and you were sure you’d never been awake until this moment.

It was too much—the attraction, the tension, the dependency you were beginning to build up for him.

Din Djarin was like the hit of a drug or a breath of sweet air or the touch of nectar to the tongue—now that you’d known him, felt him, heard his laugh, you could never want for anything but him and it would never be enough until you had more.

“All done,” You whispered, putting the med kit back together and closing it. With the wound dressed and his beskar plate in place, Din stood from his perch before you could step back. The hand he had at your waist stayed there for a moment, keeping you from running away.

With his hulking presence before you and the way he peered down at you silently through his beskar helmet, you nearly forgot your own name. Your breaths were shallow and your heart raced in its cage of bones. Standing there, looking up at Din with your chest almost touching his, you knew.

You knew that when this was over, you couldn’t leave him. You wouldn’t leave him. You were suddenly unaware of how you’d gone the entirety of your life without him, let alone how you’d continue it after this was over. You felt as if Din was tethered to the breath in your lungs, the beat of your heart, the firing of your thoughts.

And for the life of you, you could not figure out how such a deep, ardent connection had taken root in your soul for someone you’d only known for a few months. It did not make sense, and somehow that was the beauty of it. These feelings were not explainable or rational, they were anything but. And that thrilled you just as much as it made you frightened that he’d walk out the door just like your parents had.

You wouldn’t recover from it this time.

“Din-”

You were cut off by the sound of the small, green child waddling up to the two of you and babbling something you could not understand. As if a knife had quartered down the moment between Din and you, the both of you stepped back instantly. His hands left your waist and yet you could still feel the phantom of their touch.

Din sighed as he stooped down and gathered the kid in his arms, “I know kid, we gotta get you something to eat.”

“I swear that child has the largest appetite,” You mused, a smile lighting your lips as you looked at the vulnerable youngling in the rough, intimidating arms of the Mandalorian.

For a moment, you wondered what it felt like to be in his arms, held close and safe like that.

“What are we gonna do with him for the hunt this afternoon?” You inquired, turning and securing the blaster Din had gotten you onto your belt, “And don’t even start the lecture on how we should be getting serious about our Vince planning. I know it seems like I’m being avoidant but if I just had a little more time then…”

You allowed your voice to trail off when you noticed the different kind of silence filling the crest. With furrowed brows, you turned to see Din tucking in the child to his crib. A sigh sounded from his modulator as he stepped back and checked his weapons, not even being able to look up to your gaze.

“Din?”

He paused, and the silence made your stomach twist. Finally, he looked up at you, “I need to do this hunt alone.”

For a moment, your brain would not grasp to compute the words, “What?”

“This is a dangerous one, and I’d feel better if you were here keeping the kid safe until I have it done.”

It took every ounce of your energy to restrain the panic that immediately roared to life in response to the trauma-triggering words. The timing could not be worse for this conversation, not when you’d just been reminiscing on how haunted you were that he would walk just like your parents had.

You managed to keep your face void of the telling emotions brewing within and shook your head, “Don’t be silly, Mando. If it’s really that dangerous, then I’ll just come with you.”

“No,” He urged, his voice stronger this time as he took a step closer to you, “I need you and the kid safe. I can’t ensure that if you’re out with me on a hunt like this.”

“I can hold my own,” You argued, trying and failing to keep the desperation from leaking into your voice, “I’ll just go with you and-”

“It is not safe for you out there. Vince’s bounty on your head keeps ratcheting up and everytime you leave this ship, your chances of being caught grow. I cannot risk that.” Din cut in, and even though he was grappling to keep the intense worry within his gut from spilling out, you were hopelessly battling the trauma-ingrained panic of what his words meant to you.

He might have been looking out for your safety, but your irrational mind was already jumping to conclusions and you could not stop it. After all, Din had no ties to you besides a promise built on a foundation of good will and blind trust. What would really stop him from finding another ship and leaving you here? The Razor Crest was an aging ship anyways, and he had more than enough credits for an upgrade.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Mando assured, walking past you and towards the hatch that was now lowering and opening to the outside, “It shouldn’t take me all night, but if it does, don’t come hunting for me. I can’t risk you being caught.”

“Din, please don’t-”

Your words died as he walked down the hatch and off into the mid afternoon light.

“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered to yourself.

If he’d spared just one moment to look at your face, Din would have seen the anguish there. He hadn’t looked, though, because something had changed so fundamentally within the bounty hunter when he’d stood so close to you just moments ago.

Din had peered down at you, taking in the beauty of your face and your very soul, and had realized the extent of what he’d do for you. More accurately, Din had realized that there were no limits to what he’d do, give, endure to ensure your safety. He’d always been a natural protector, but this was different. You were different. And Din knew that one more look into your haunted eyes would have him setting course for whatever shithole Vince Hanon lived in and slaughtering him just so you could live with a peace of mind.

So Din kept walking, and left you in the Crest. He left you, not knowing that you did not believe he’d come back. He left you, unaware that you were already beginning to fray with the lies your mind was bellowing down upon you.

He left you, and all you could think about was what would happen if you never saw him again.

#din djarin angst #din djarin #din djarin oneshot #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #fluff #angst #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin x female reader #din x reader #star wars #mando x reader #din djarin x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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the-fiction-witch · 2 months

Text

Miss Y/L/N P2

Media - The Artful Dodger Character - Jack Dawkins Couple - Jack X Reader Reader - Miss Y/n Y/l/n Rating - flirty AF Word Count - 4650

Jack headed through the dusty streets of Port Victory walking with a mission passing the tavern drunks and dock girls without a second thought until he reached the small thatched cottage on the edge of town with a sweet garden, small fence and freshly painted purple door the sunset behind it and the flickering of firelight beyond the windows. Jack's footsteps faltered for a moment as he looked up at the cottage... his heart was hammering in his chest and he felt a little out of breath. He had never been to her home before... it was... beautiful. The cottage, the garden... Y/n. Then he pulled himself together and approached the door... and knocked lightly.

The door opened to Y/n now with a sweet green apron embroidered with flowers and small bumble bees her hair was slightly askew and she seemed somewhat puzzled, "Doctor Dawkins? Ohh hello, to what do I owe the pleasure of a twilight visit?"

The sight of her, even with messy hair and an apron on, made Jack's chest feel tight. She looked breathtaking even when slightly disheveled. He hesitated for a moment before he spoke. "Miss Y/L/N," He managed to squeak out, clearing his throat for a moment and trying again. "May... may I come in to talk with you?"

"of course," she smiled happily letting him inside to see her small cottage. The cottage had a sweet round fireplace flickering away, a mantle full of trinkets small framed windows and hand woven rugs on the wooden floor, two chairs and a sofa by the fire, a large and cute wooden kitchen with an aged dinning table, pots hung from about. A reading nook overlooking the garden filled with books on shelves, a door leading to the bedroom where a canopy bed can be seen. The whole place lit by candle light and smelt of lavender, "Would you like a cup of tea? Or given it's so late I could perhaps make you up a glass of wine?" When smiled going to the kitchen picking up a plate and drying the dishes

Jack glanced around the cottage as he stepped inside as a warm smile rose to his face. It was... cozy. The small rooms, the fireplace and the trinkets... everything was cute and just screamed Y/n... he felt a pang in his chest as he realized that it was just how he imagined her home, "I'd like a glass of wine if you don't mind, thank you." Jack went to sit down in one of the chairs while he waited patiently for her,

she finished with her dishes and poured two glasses of wine, "It might be a bit strong" she smiled as she handed him he small goblet style glass of wine sitting her own on a small side table and sitting in her chair across from him putting her feet up on a little stool by the fire clearly by the way things sat she always sat in that chair

Jack took the goblet from her, the tips of his fingers brushing hers and he felt a tingle course through him at the contact. She sat down across from him and sat with her legs up and he smiled slightly. "You really like that spot in front of the fire don't you?", He said with a small chuckle.

"it's warm and cosy," she smiled "it's a good spot when it's cold or dark, I prefer the little reading nook when the sun's out" she chuckled

Jack smiled softly at her before he took a small sip of his drink, the bitterness of the wine tingling his tastebuds... it did happen to be sweetly fruity and smooth as well and he hummed in contentment. "Why am I not suprised that you love to read...," He chuckled lightly, knowing her love for books was very well known to everybody.

"of course, I love to read." She giggled "but you haven't answered me, is there a reason for your visit?"

Jack froze for a moment before he remembered the reason he had come here to begin with. He had forgotten about that completely as he had just enjoyed talking to her and watching how she lit up as she spoke. "Oh, right.... I... had something important to ask you....," His voice trailed off as he suddenly felt nervous. The courage he had summoned to get here and knock on the door seemed to have all just suddenly fled from him now that he had to actually ask her his question.

"oh? Go on me then" she giggled sipping her wine

Jack took a large gulp of his wine, feeling the warm burn as the alcohol made it's way down his throat in an attempt to drown his nerves. He had to say it, there was no turning back… "Y/n...," He began to say, his words slightly slurring slightly as a result of the wine. He had to admit it was rather strong. "There's something I want to ask you... something important." Jack took one last large sip of the wine in an attempt to gather up his courage from bottom of the glass as he placed it down. "I've... I've known you most of my life. And our... friendship has been the most important thing to me. And I've watched you grow into the most kind, caring, beautiful, and talented young lady I have ever known." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes. "And... and during that time, it's come to my attention... that my feelings towards you... are no longer those of friendship...,"

"aren't they?" She asked sitting her glass down her face read of confusion "whatever did I do to offend you so? That you don't think of me as a friend... Whatever I did jack I'm sorry" she said immediately assuming she had done wrong

Jack's eyes widened slightly. He wasn't expecting that response from her. "No... oh no no no no... you misunderstand...," Jack quickly corrected her. God she was so sweet and innocent... she always thought she had done something wrong when there was never anything wrong to begin with. "I never said that I didn't think of you as a friend, Y/n. I said that my feelings for you are no longer just... friendship...,"

"Oh ... Then what are they?"

Jack swallowed hard. This was it. No backing down now... His heart was racing faster than it every had in his life and his throat felt dry and tight... but he had to say it. "I've fallen in love with you.... and it's been killing me."

she gasped, her hands began to nervously fiddle with her fingers "I see ... Why does this hurt you? To feel that you love me? Do you not wish to love me?"

Jack quickly shook his head immediately. His brain was fuzzy from the wine... but he needed to say this right. "Of course I wish to love you. That's what is killing me... knowing that I love you... and I have no idea how you feel about me...,"

"oh you sweet thing" she cooed stroking his cheek and pulling his chin to look at her emerald eyes before her hands met his own "jack I adore you, I worship you, I have loved you for as long as I dare remember"

Jack's breath caught in his throat as he felt her gentle touch. Her hand on his cheek was soft and he felt chills down his spine as she held his chin up to look into her emerald eyes, which shined with love. As her words registered, his heart skipped a beat… "You... you love me?," He managed to choke out, his brain racing and struggling to completely process what she just said.

"of course I do" she giggled "you think I'd walk half way across town every other day to bring you cookies if I didn't?"

Jack chuckled at that. Her reasoning was rather simple... but it made complete and utter sense at the same time. He took her hand in his own and laced their fingers together. Her fingers were so small compared to his... and as he held her hand, he realized that he never wanted to let go of her again. "Why... why didn't you ever say anything?," He asked quietly.

"not really proper for a young lady to go around shouting at doctors how much she loves them" she giggled "but... I did deny all those suitors who has ever come asking to court me, sort of ... Hoping you'd figure out I was waiting for you"

Jack's heart melted at those words... he had absolutely no idea she felt that way. He felt a pang of guilt realizing she must have been feeling that way for a long time... and he was completely oblivious. The thought that all those men came courting her, and yet she denied every single one of them... he swallowed hard and took a shaky breath, his hand clutching hers tighter. "I'm... I'm an idiot," He said quietly. "You... you denied every single one of them... because of me...,"

"you very much are an idiot, but your my idiot" she smiled rubber nose on his

Jack smiled widely as he felt her nose against his. Her words were so gentle and sweet as she called him "her" idiot... the feeling of her body pressing against his even if it was just her nose against his had his body tingling... and he suddenly realized that he wanted more than just her nose to be against him. He ached to hold her in his arms and never let her go… "Please say that again," He murmured.

"humm... My big idiot" she giggled "that I waited years for to finally figure out that I loved him"

Another pang of guilt hit Jack as he was reminded that Y/n had waited years for him to figure out her feelings for him. Years of wishing and praying that he loved her like she loved him... but... he was so focused on being a successful surgeon that he never paid much attention to his own feelings. His other hand slowly reached up to gently tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear before his fingers gently traced along her jawline and came to rest on her neck. He gently pulled her closer and smiled. "Can I... try something?,"

"you may jack" she nodded

Jack nodded, his heart beating wildly in his chest as his hand slid from her neck to the back of her head, letting her warm hair slide through his fingers as he drew her even closer. He gently but firmly put his other hand on her hip, guiding her into his lap so she was completely pressed up against him. As she sat on his lap, he wrapped his arms loosely around her and gently rested his forehead against hers.

she giggled as he pulled her into his lap her hands settled on his waistcoat as she slightly squirmed not in protest more just settling herself

The feeling of her soft body in his lap had Jack's head spinning to the point where he could barely think straight. Her giggling sent pleasant shivers through his body, and he had to restrain himself from just grabbing her and pulling her even closer... to feel every inch of her body against his. He let her squirm for a moment as he chuckled quietly. "Settle down now...," He murmured against her neck, letting his breath tickle her skin.

"I can't help it, something's pressing into me" she giggled as she shifted and squirmed her hips some more

Jack let out a low moan as he felt her shifting her hips in his lap... she had no idea what she was doing to him. Jack's eyes fluttered for a moment as a wave of desire shot straight through him... he wanted nothing more than to just pick her and carry her into the bedroom and keep her in there for a week... but he had to control himself. "Stop squirming and you'll feel it less...," He said through gritted teeth.

"sorry I'm just trying to get comfy" she giggled sitting still "humm... I want to say it's your belt pressing into me but you have suspenders on" she said giving the suspender on his shoulder a small playfull snap

Jack let out another moan when she snapped his suspender strap. Her hands and her movements were having a very noticeable effect on him... but he managed to keep himself under control. He gave her a little tap on her bottom in a playful "punishment." "You behave... or I'll give you a spanking over my knee," He warned, before he realized what he said and his eyes widened as the words left his mouth.

"Jack!" She protests

Jack froze for a moment. Why did he say that? He didn't know what possessed him to threaten her with a spanking! And yet... part of him liked how her little gasp and the way she said his name. He swallowed down a groan at the thought of her sitting on his knee like a naughty little girl, her skirts bunched up around her hips as his hand gently came down against her bare skin... He couldn't keep the words from tumbling out of his mouth again. "Oh don't act so virtuous," He murmured against her neck as he gently nipped at her skin with his teeth, leaving a faint mark as he whispered in her ear. "You know you deserve a spanking for all that squirming in my lap, don't you?"

"Jack. As much as I admire your enthusiasm, I think you've had a little too much wine" she said slowly moving his hands from her hips to her waist "I know you love me and I love you too and yes it does feel as if we have waited forever and now that we know I'm overjoyed and overwhelmed with possibilities. However" she explained "we have only admitted our love, we are not counting, not engaged, and as much as I am excited to finally be able to express my love... You speak of things that we would do only in marriage and that's a good while off don't you think?"

Jack was quite literally speechless. Everything she was saying was absolutely right... he was speaking and acting like as if they were married when they weren't even engaged and they had only barely confessed their love. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he realized how he was behaving, like a man who was absolutely out of control. His heart sank as he realized how foolish and impatient he was acting... he had clearly had a bit too much to drink and his emotions were running absolutely wild. Jack closed his eyes as he silently berated himself. What was wrong with him? He sighed deeply, feeling absolutely wretched. He wanted to be with her so badly, in every way possible... but he knew she was right. She was absolutely right, and he felt like a complete fool. He gently rested his forehead on her shoulder in shame, his words low and quiet. "You're... you're right. I'm... I'm sorry, you're absolutely right... I'm behaving like an absolute madman... I've clearly had too much to drink. I feel like an idiot...,"

"it's alright, over excitement gets the best of us all. It likely comes from waiting so long I think" she chuckled "but... We must wait a little longer save such things for the right times"

Jack chuckled weakly, his head still resting on her shoulder. The guilt of how he was acting and his excitement were still warring inside his mind, but she was absolutely right. He had to wait for "the right time". He raised his head to look into her eyes, a small, lopsided smile on his face. "And when would that be?," He asked with a slight smirk.

"... Well we need to court don't we? And then an engagement, then I suppose after a decent period of engagement we could get married. And then you can do whatever you want" she smiled

Jack chuckled softly and smiled widely. God she was so innocent and yet so mischievous. She was giving him absolutely everything he wanted but she wouldn't let him take it quite yet... and part of his mind was absolutely feral with desire at the thought of doing anything he wanted. Part of his mind wanted to take her right then and there... but he didn't want to scare her. "Anything I want?," He murmured with a smirk.

"once we are married, our marriage bed will be open for anything my husband desires. After he deals with my Maidenhead of course"

Jack was not expecting her answer, and his brain short-circuited for a moment upon hearing her words. His face suddenly felt absolutely hot. The thought of her, completely nude in the bed of their shared house... completely opening herself up to him as he explored every inch of her body... god his heart was practically racing in his chest. And then he suddenly realized what she meant by "her Maidenhead"... He closed his eyes to try and control himself. "M-Maidenhead?," He echoed her words. Her choice of words had him completely flustered. The thought of taking her for the first time, her body completely soft and untouched as he carefully took her... it made his body ache like never before. It was taking every single ounce of his self-control to keep himself from throwing her down on the couch and taking her right then and there... but he had to restrain himself. He forced himself to open his eyes and lock them with her gaze. "You're still... you're still a... a virgin?," He whispered.

"I am a proper young lady jack, and I've turned down ever suitors who's ever asked of course I am"

Jack was absolutely floored once again by her response. His guilt for acting so utterly foolish and feral melted away and he was completely filled with love and admiration for her. Once again he was in awe of just how much she had waited for the possibility of being with him... how she denied every single suitor simply because she wanted only him. He smiled softly at her before nodding. "You are... without a doubt... the most proper and patient person... that I have ever met," He murmured quietly.

"well, I had a very good thing I was waiting for" she smiled nuzzling her nose into his neck

Jack let out a soft sigh at her nuzzling her nose into his neck. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close to him as he savored the feel of her body against his. As her words echoed in his mind, he smiled. She stayed pure and patient simply because she had been waiting for him... he felt another pang of guilt as he remembered how he had been behaving like an animal just a few moments ago. "Promise me one thing?," He murmured, his hands idly stroking her waist.

"yes jack?"

Jack was quiet for a moment as he gathered his words. He tilted his head slightly so his breath was against her ear and then quietly spoke. "Promise me that... even when I'm behaving like... like a madman... the way I was just a few moments ago... you'll keep me in check... keep me from acting like an absolutely mindless madman who will do anything to have you...," He whispered before gently nipping her earlobe.

"I promise, I shall do my best to." She nodded "the best things are worth waiting for wouldn't you agree? Would you rather toss me down on the sofa and make a mess of me just because of your urges or... To wait until our wedding night where you can carry me to our bed and ravish me to your hearts content"

As she spoke, Jack's brain was filled with the image of her spread out on the sofa beneath him, her skirt hitched up over her hips. His mind then flashed forward to the image of her in their shared bed, completely nude as he worshipped every inch of her body… Jack almost moaned but he stopped himself. He took a shaky breath before speaking, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke. "You... you're absolutely right...," He whispered. "Waiting is absolutely worth it...,"

"I'm glad you agree" she nodded "but maybe soon a gentleman might come and ask to court me?" She cooed

The thought of a "gentleman" asking to court Y/n literally made Jack's blood boil. The thought of some "gentleman" coming in and asking to court his Y/n... the thought of her spending time with another man that wasn't him... He immediately shook his head and wrapped his arms tighter around her. "I'm not letting any other blokes try to court you... you're mine... mine...," He practically growled.

"I meant you! You idiot!" She chuckled

Jack immediately froze and realization settled over him like a heavy storm cloud. Of course... of course she meant him. She didn't want to be courted by some other bloke... she wanted to be courted by him. He suddenly felt completely foolish and an idiot and he was absolutely blushing. Jack buried his face in her shoulder, his face red hot with embarrassment. "Oh good lord, I'm a bloody idiot....," He mumbled against her shoulder.

"aww my sweet idiot" she cooed storking his hair

Jack smiled faintly against her shoulder at her words and her actions. Her words, as always, melted his heart and her hand stroking through his hair always made him shiver. As he spoke against her, his voice was quiet and low. "You can... you can call me an idiot all you want as long as you keep stroking my hair like that,"

"I know what will cheer you up, she giggled "would you like a little present? That you have to keep a secret?" She whispered

Jack lifted his head up off her shoulder, a curious look on his face. A present? He raised his eyebrow at her question. A secret present? What on earth would she give him that required a secret? "A secret present?," He echoed her words. He was suddenly very curious. He smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I'd love a secret present...," she smiled and shut her eyes giving his cheek a tiny peck before she pulled back and looked up at him with her big emerald eyes

Jack chuckled quietly as she gave his cheek a soft little kiss. Looking down at her, he suddenly felt that wave of guilt wash over him again as he remembered how he practically lunged at her and threatened to give her a spanking... He suddenly felt very grateful that she had been so patient with him. Instead and gently caressing her waist,

"did you like your present?"

Jack was about to respond when he suddenly realized that the soft little kiss on the cheek was the present. He was actually touched beyond words that such a small little kiss was her "present" to him. He smiled softly before nodding. "I loved it...," He murmured before leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her forehead. He couldn’t help himself and he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close to him and holding her against him.

she blushed hard at the kiss nuzzling onto his waistcoat "did I do okay? I've never kissed anyone before"

Jack chuckled as she blushed and nuzzled his waistcoat. She did "okay"? She did absolutely fantastic. And the fact that she'd never kissed anyone before made it even better. He felt a little guilty that he had plenty of experience and she had none... he suddenly decided to tease her a little bit. "Oh yes, sweetheart," He teased her slightly, "You more than did okay..."

"I did?"

Jack nodded as he smiled even wider at the surprised look on her face. It was adorable how shocked she was simply because he told her she did a good job at kissing him... which only made him tease her even more. "Oh yes, you did absolutely fantastic... you didn't even stick your tongue in my mouth or anything," He teased her as he chuckled quietly.

"... Oh... Was I suppose to?" She asked

Jack chuckled even harder. She was absolutely clueless and absolutely adorable. He would have to teach her all manner of things, and his heart swelled at the thought... but that could wait. "No, no... you weren't supposed to, sweetheart. It was a tease," He said with a quiet chuckle. He leaned his forehead against hers, gently and playfully bumping her forehead with his. "A tease. I wanted to get you all riled up,"

"oh. Sorry" she giggled

Jack chuckled again at her response. God she was cute to tease. She was so damn innocent... a complete contrast to his own behavior from a few minutes ago. He was suddenly hit with yet another pang of guilt as he remembered the absolutely feral way he had spoken and the way he had practically threatened her… He pushed the guilt aside as he pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. He smiled and spoke quietly, hoping to get her to relax more. "You don't have to apologize, sweetheart,"

"ummm" she nodded shifting a bit rubbing her cheek slowly against his waistcoat her eyes fluttering closed as she clearly got so cosy in his arms she began to get sleepy confirmed as her jaw falls and she lets out a long yawn

Jack smiled and chuckled quietly as she started rubbing her cheek against his waistcoat, her eyes closing slowly as her jaw fell open with a yawn. She was like a sleepy kitten... she was sleepy and comfy and absolutely adorable in his arms. Her sleepy actions and the way she was rubbing her cheek against his waistcoat stirred his heart and he instinctively wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her against his chest as he chuckled quietly again. "You're a sleepy little thing, aren't you?,"

"mhm" she nodded

Jack chuckled again. Her sleepy nodding only made the realization that she was sleepy and absolutely adorable even more prominent. As she nodded, he smiled and nuzzled his head against hers, his hands gently caressing her waist. She was so damn cute when she was sleepy... he wanted nothing more than to pick her up and carry her up to his bedroom and tuck her into his bed so she could fall asleep in his arms… "A little sleepy kitten...,"

she smiled widely at the name "ummm your kitten" she cooed

Jack smiled widely at how she immediately agreed to the name. She was his. She was his Kitten. He chuckled quietly before gently lifting one of his hands to gently pat her head like he would do to an actual kitten. "Yes, you are. My little Kitten," He cooed back at her. He smiled even wider at the thought of her belonging to him... belonging in his arms...

she smiled happily moving herself slightly so she sat on his left thigh, her head still on his chest and her feet coming up to lay against his right knee bundling herself completely up in his arms like she was reading for a nap right there on his lap

Jack chuckled quietly as she moved and got comfortable in his arms. She was so small and slender that she barely took up any room on his lap. As she sat, she nuzzled her head into his chest and bundled herself up all small like a little kitten, obviously getting herself comfy and ready for a nap. It was absolutely adorable... and once again it stirred his heart. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, one around her waist and the other around her shoulders, holding her snugly against his chest and effectively wrapping her up in his arms completely.

#thomas sangster #tbs smut #thomas brodie sangster #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs imagine #tbs #thomasbrodiesangster #jackdawkins #jack dawkins #jack #dr dawkins #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #the artful dodger #jack imagines #jack dawkins x reader

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erynaster · 1 year

Note

Could I get Enid sinclair x reader that really enjoys thunderstorms? Just in a tree sitting on a branch or on the balcony in the rain smoking a cigarette enjoying the lightning and thunder. Fic form please

Sure!

________________

Stormy Nights

Summary: You and Enid share a moment of intimacy amidst a brewing thunderstorm.

Word Count: 942

Pairing(s): Enid Sinclair x Male!Reader

Warning(s): None

A/N: Took me a while to get back to this, mostly due to personal matters getting in the way...

CRASH!

BOOM!

A thunderclap echoes through the din, the sudden cacophony threatening to split the sky in half as low rumblings follow suit. You're sitting on an overhanging branch, your back resting comfortably on the trunk of the tree as you remain sheltered from the torrential downpour raging all around you.

The continuous pitter-patter of raindrops only adds to the cozy ambience that the thunderstorm provided. You've always been fond of thunderstorms, ever since you were little. The sudden outbursts of thunder and lightning never fazed you as a child, and at your current age the rain brought with it not disappointment, but pleasure at the fact that you could spend such a day indoors, wrapped up in a blanket, watching a movie or smoking a cigarette or two.

Or in this case, sitting in the shade of a tree, sheltered from the rain as the cool air wafts over you.

All in all, an ideal way to spend an evening.

You see a figure walking towards you in your peripheral vision. Turning in their direction, you can see that they're holding an umbrella, and wearing a pink raincoat.

You smile. It was her.

The figure nears, and you begin to make out her features in the rainy mist. Her colorful locks bounce with every step, and her face shines as she beams at you from underneath her hood.

She stops just beneath the shade of the tree, closing her umbrella as she dries herself off. Her gaze rests on you as she smiles.

"Hi."

You smile in return.

"Hello, Enid."

She approaches the base of the tree, looking up at you quizzically.

"Why are you out here? You weren't in your dorm and I got a little worried..."

You shrug. "I dunno, just felt like sitting out in the rain. It's really relaxing."

Enid stares at you with an odd expression on her face.

"May I... join you?" She offers, swaying side to side as a coy grin finds its way to her face.

"Of course." You shimmy over a bit to the left, making room for Enid to sit. "Come up over here."

Enid beams at you again, climbing up the the tree with surprising agility and litheness. Before you know it, she's right next to you, batting her eyes playfully at you.

"What? Why so surprised?" She asks.

You shake your head. "Nothing."

She sighs, her hand subtly finding yours as she takes it in her own. As your fingers interlock, a pale blush finds its way to your face, which you were pleased to note mirrored hers.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, simply relishing each other's company. The rain doesn't let up, but the two of you remain dry underneath the thick foliage above you.

It's peaceful.

"Hey, Y/N?" Enid pipes up, looking at you anxiously. "Do you think... we could head back soon?"

"Hm?" You gaze at her in question. "But you just got here."

"I know, but..." She trails off, looking up at the sky with fearful trepidation.

You understood.

"Are you afraid of the thunder?" You ask, being as straightforward as possible.

"What? Psshhh. No, of course not." She waves you off, trying yet failing to mask her growing anxiety of the situation. "Why would I be—"

KRAKOOM!

Enid lets out a fearful yelp, grabbing onto your arm as she trembles uncontrollably. Her eyes are wide as dinner plates, darting all around you as the thunder fades off into low rumblings.

You smirk at her in spite of the situation.

"Well?" You inquire as she looks up at you, defeat etched all over her features.

"... Okay, fine. I'm a little scared. Don't tease me about it." She rolls her eyes at you.

"I won't. And it's nothing to be ashamed of." You wrap your arms around her, startling her for a moment as she stiffens up in surprise.

She relaxes slightly as you gently reach up with a free hand to stroke her hair, running your fingers through her accented locks with all the affection you could muster. She lets out a sigh of contentment, leaning into your touch as you continue playing with the strands of her colorful hair.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You ask, stopping for a moment as you wait for her response.

It never comes.

Instead, Enid leans up, planting a gentle yet passionate kiss on your lips, holding the gesture for a moment before pulling away slowly. Her eyes are sparkling in the pale light, gazing into your own with pure adoration.

"I think I'll be fine now. Thank you."

You smile at her, gently nuzzling her cheek with your own as you cuddle each other underneath the shelter of the tree, two destined hearts who have found solace in one another. For now and for as far as time would take you.

As the rain begins to fade off into a gentle pitter-patter, you sigh dreamily as you rest your head on hers, taking in her scent as you close your eyes.

Thunderstorms were the best.

END

#enid sinclair x male reader #enid sinclair #enid x male reader #enid sinclair x reader #enid sinclair x male! reader #enid sinclair x male!reader #enid x reader #netflix #enid x y/n #enid x male!y/n #wednesday

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pedros-husband · 1 year

Text

you steal their clothes

pedro pascal characters x male/gn! reader

characters included: Javier Pena, Joel Miller, Javi Gutierrez, Marcus Moreno, Ezra, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, agent whiskey, Silva, Oberyn Martell, Dave York, dieter bravo, Tim Rockford, Dio Morrisey

Javier pena: he thinks you look extremely hot in any of his clothes especially if you wear any of his tight jeans, the way the fabric clings to your ass has him reeling. and if your alone in the office/at home, he'll have you bent over a desk or in the sheets in moments. he doesn't hide how hot he thinks you look in them either, it's a lot of flirty comments and lingering touches. if you aren't in private he might walk up behind you and start trailing kisses down your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist as he whispers what he wishes he could do to you.

Joel miller: he won’t admit it but he thinks you look so handsome/gorgeous in any of his clothes, especially his flannel shirts, so when he catches you wearing one of them his eyes will light up and a small smile will play on his lips-only for a second though. Then he will silently walk over to you and wrap you up in his arms, smiling into your neck. And if it’s your day off he will push you down on to the couch/bed and hold you close in his arms, your face pressed into his chest as he runs his hands over the curves and contours of your body. If you try and mention how clingy he’s being and how he likes you wearing his clothes- he’ll shut you up with kisses and cuddles until you forgot all about what you where saying. (Sometimes it goes a little further and he’ll rip the shirt off you in heated desire, the buttons popping off as you gasp and he just grumbles about how he doesn’t care)

Javi Gutierrez: he smiles so wide like a puppy and sweeps you up in his arms whispering every pet name under the sun, kissing your cheek and trailing them down your arms and to your hands, telling you how he loves the way you look in his clothes. He will immediately propose that the two of you cuddle and watch all his favourite nick cage movies- and who are you to say no to that cute face?

Marcus Moreno: he melts when he sees you cuddled up in one of his hoodies and as long as he’s finished all his work he’ll drop anything he’s doing to wrap you up in his arms mumbling. How he’s so lucky to have you and to be your husband. He won’t be able to keep his hands off you and not necessarily in a sexual way he just needs to be touching you in some way, even if it’s just the pinkies touching on the couch if your working otherwise his whole body will be draped over you in a big bear hug.

Ezra: let’s be real he only really has a couple of undershirts and pants for under his suit so if you wear any of his clothes they’re going to be quite tight fitting (just pretend they would be okay) and so he’ll drool over you and immediately decide that the orlac hunting can wake a couple more minutes whilst he indulges in his favorite treasure…

Din djarin: he doesn’t wear anything other than his Mando armour like Ezra so instead if your a mando like him and you take your top armour off and are left in just your undershirt and trousers, he’ll flip the razor crest into autopilot and drag you back into the bunk room to retrace some tension he’s feeling

Frankie morales: he thinks you look so hot in his clothes even if it’s just his baseball hat (maybe with nothing else at all) and will twirl you around, smiling like an idiot, before swooping you up and putting you down on the couch, wrapped up in his arms. He won’t let you leave his grasp until the image of you in whatever your wearing is permanently engraved into his brain.

Agent whiskey: he thinks it’s the sexiest thing in the world, seeing you all cozy on the couch or doing the dishes in his shirts and shorts, he’ll walk up behind you , wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his face into your neck, inhaling the smell of your cologne/ soap and smile. Sometimes he’ll whisk you off to the bedroom as well

Silva: he loves when you wear his cowboy hat or his old bandana, to him it shows that your his and no one else’s, and anyone who sees you will know that your his as well.

Oberyn martell: he has quite a few of each of his robes as spares and such as he’s the prince so when he catches you wearing his yellow robe his jaw drops to the floor. No matter if he’s attending an important meeting or training, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing and whisk you back to your chambers.

Dave York: he’ll play it off like he’s pissed that you stole his clothes but will secretly steal looks when your not looking, his eyes wandering over your body as he bites his lip. He’ll make a few phone calls to call in late and re arrange some plans so he can have you for a little while longer…

Dieter bravo: this man can already barely keep his hand off you so the second he sees you in something that’s his, he’s tackling you to the nearest bed/couch, looking at you with excited and hungry eyes, mumbling about how much better his clothes look on you but he’d prefer none at all.

Tim Rockford: he catches you wearing his shoulder holster in the mirror at home , and stops in his tracks, taking a couple steps back to leer through the door and admire how it looks on you. He will stare for hours until you’ve walked up to him and tapped him in the shoulder, snapping him out of his daydream with a bright blush on his face as you chuckle to yourself.

Dio morrissey: if you wear any of his necklaces/ leather jackets he’ll go feral. He thinks it’s the hottest thing ever and will pin you to the bed, trailing kisses along your neck and chest whispering curses under his breath as he progressively gets more and more hot and bothered.

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A/n: sorry I haven’t posted any fics recently, I have had a flare up in my back and it’s thrown me off a bit, I’m working on a request that should be out soon hopefully and just a thank you to everyone as well :)

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bookishgirl21 · 8 months

Text

A whole new world

Azriel x TOG!reader

PT 1 ?

Summary: You are Dorians half sister who goes with him and Aelin to forge the lock but you don't return with Aelin as tumble down to an unknown world

Being the bastard daughter of the king of Adarlan has never been easy, especially being half fae. The only reason why my father ever kept me around was because the believed me to have no magic, my mother said that I must never let anyone l know of my magic . So I've kept it secret for years until recent months.

"Close the wyrdmark once I've finished" Aelin says to Rowan, his nod is his only answer, as Aelin puts the wyrdstones in her arm and we're transportded to a place thats not a place and we begin fordging the lock...

"We can go home " I say with a smile on my face Aelin looks at me with a smile as big as mine " Lets go home" then we begin falling through the worlds , but we are falling to fast and as we see the world their are two fae standnig on a balcony we though out our arms as to signal them, thats when I feel my hand loose its grip on Aelins then I'm falling into the world, I hear Aeiln shout my name but its to late, she disappears into the next world.

I'm tumbling down from the sky, thinking this would be my end when I feel someone catch me , I open my eyes and look up to see who had caught me and see the man from the balcony, he's speaking to me but I don't here a word he is saying over the roaring of the wind.

As we land on the balcony , I take a moment to catch my breath when the man speaks to me in a language I've never heard, my confusion must have shown on my face because he stopped and looked to the female. I then spoke to them in the old language " Where am I ? " the male looked at me and said in the old language " You are in Velaris the city of starlight, who are you? "

" I'm y/n , can you help me get back to my please? " he looked towards the female again and spoke to her before answering " Hello y/n my name is Rhysand, will you please follow me and meet some of m people who might be able to help you"

I follow the two inside to what looke like an office " Please sit down, the others will be here shortly" the male Rhysand said, I took a seat on the lovely couch. There was a Knock on the door when two winged males walked in and a female with short black hair, as I looked at the males one was handsome in a rough way and the other male.....he was the most beautiful male I've had ever seen, he had shadows around him, they almost seemed alive.

the male said in the old language " Y/n this is Amren she is the most likely to help you home and these are Cassian and Azriel " Amren sad to me " Where are you from girl ? " "Erilea" I reply, I look at the male Azriel and see that he is already looking at me with some emotion in his eyes that i cant place. " It will take some time to find a way for you to get back home in the mean time Azriel will take you to a room here in the House of wind, where you may stay while we try and find a way home for you, we will have dinner soon Azriel will come by and help you to the dinning room" "Thank you for your kindness and willingness to help"

Azriel leads me to a room that will be my bedroom for the time being. ''This will be your room, my room is right across if you need anything'' I look around the room, its cozy theres a big bed in the middle of the room with creamy white sheets, their is big floor to celling windows, there is a door on the other side of the room which leads to a bathroom. '' There should be some clean clothes in the dresser over their and the bathroom is stocked with all the bathing things you'd need, I'll stop by later to take you to dinner'' I turn to him ''My Azriel I am here for about half an hour and you're already taking me to dinner'' I say with a sly grin on my face, he looks at me with shock clear on his face and stumbles with his words ''No, no, th-thats not what I meant, I'll come and-'' I laugh and say ''I know what you meant I was just pulling your leg'' he looks at me again and huffs a laugh '' I'll leave you to your bath''

I walk over to the dresser to see what cloths I could get, I choose a white with blue flower dress that looks comfortable, and can't help but think of how the blue looks likes Dorians eyes, tears fill my eyes, how long will I stay here in this unknown world with these people , I hadn't realized I was crying until I felt a tear drop on my arm. I wipe away my tears and head for the bath room.

I emerge from the bath room feeling slightly better after being clean and having a good cry, I didn't know exactly when dinner would be served so I decided to have a looked around what was to be my room, a bookshelf in the corner of the room caught my eye, was running my hand along the titles that I couldn't read when someone clears their throat behind me, I turn quickly my magic rising in me, ''I didn't mean to scare you'' Azriel apologizes, he's standing by the door ''It's alright, I didn't hear you knock or enter? '' he looks at me with that same look from earlier '' What '' I ask '' Nothing , it's nothing, come lets go to dinner and introduce you to the rest of our court''

My palms begin to sweat as we walk to the dinning room, nervous to meet these people, I can't help but wonder whats going on back home, is Aelin alright did she find her way back ? is Dorian alright? did they make it in time to save Terssasn? will I ever see any of them again? ''I can hear you thinking, I can promise you as crazy as these people may be we will not harm you unless you prove to be a threat'' I look out the corner of my eye towards Azriel and give him a tight lipped smile '' that was not at all what I was thinking but thanks for the input'' we enter the dinning room and Rhysand, Cassan, Amren and the female from earlier are already seated, then there is three new females at the table as well one sharp looking female sitting next to Cassian and the female sitting next to her looked like a softer version of the sharp female, sisters possiblely, and then there was the third female wearing a red gown.

Azriel guides me to a seat and pulls out the chair next to mine, '' know that we are all here let me introduce you to my people, this is my mate Feyre and those are her sisters Nesta ( the sharp one) and Elain ( the soft one, who is glaring at me from across the table) and my cousin Morrigan . Everyone this is Y/n'' I smile at them and give an awkward wave to them ''It's nice to meet you all''

After the introductions where done food just appeared out of thin air, my shock must have shown on my face because Cassian says with a grin on his face '' what they don't have magic where your from? '' I look at him with shock still in my voice '' we do have magic we're I'm from it's just...I've never seen things just appear from thin air'' ''They just come from thin air it was just simply moved from the kitchen to the table'' Rhysand says amusement shinning in his face.

As dinner comes to end I can't help but feel as Elain has a problem with me, she has been giving me dirty looks the whole night, as I look over at her now she is whispering something to Nesta who looks me up and down, with a sneer on her face, I look away quickly, and Azriel bumps me with his elbow , I look at him and he leans in to whisper '' if you wish to leave you may just ask and I am more then happy to take you back to your room'' I nod slowly and rise from my seat '' thank you for the dinner I would like to go back to my room and rest'' Rhysand looks at me and gives a gentle smile of course, tomorrow I'll have Az come by your room so that we may start our course of finding you a way home''

As we walk back to my room Azriel is quiet, and I let curiosity win over me'' what are these shadows around you?'' he looks shocked at my question but answers my question '' they are... like companions they also help me with my job.'' ''oh, I like them.'' and as i say that one breaks away and comes close to my face and it almost looks like it tilts it head in curiosity , I giggle and it goes around my neck before returning to Azriel, ''they're adorable'' he looks at me with a soft smile and says ''we're here'' he opens my door for me and as I go in I turn to say goodnight when I bump right into his muscled chest, ''oh I'm so sorry I-'' I stopped talking as I look at him in the eye and my breath was knocked right out of me, he looks down at me with his mouth slightly parted, his warm breath hits my face and I feel myself heat up, we slowly start to lean in and I close my eyes when a voice breaks the moment and we pull away from eachother to see who it was, Elain stands a few feet from us with a innocent look on her face and speaks in her language towards Azriel. He looks back at me and says '' I.. I'll see you tomorrow morning'' its takes me a minute to reply ''yes, yes uhm right I'll see you tomorrow''

As I enter my room I groan, what was I thinking, I was just about to kiss him, this man who I barely know, I run my hands over my face and head to the dresser to look for some thing to sleep in. As I climb into my bed I can't help but think of that almost kiss with Azriel.

Part 2

AN: alright thats all for now , I will make a pt 2 if you all enjoy this part, the next pt will defiently have more Az x reader scenes, hope you enjoyed this fic, and feedback is greatly welcomed, also if there is a scene you would like to see I will definitely add it , sorry if there are spelling mistakes it's like 1 in the morning so😅

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #throne of glass #throne of glass x reader

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luckbealincoln · 1 year

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter seventeen : the apostate's cabin

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!

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

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 3.5k

summary : you finally get to see din's cabin

warnings, etc. : language

Just Din.

It’s all happening very quickly in your mind.

He didn’t just want you.

Din was all yours.

No one else gets to know Din, just you.

The sound of him clearing his throat snaps you out of your thoughts.

It certainly is cozy.

He’s so large and imposing, it’s hard to imagine him here, in such a domestic place. Everything is wooden. He’s a man made entirely of metal and he lives in a wooden box.

He stays on the bed, twiddling his thumbs like he’s unsure on the next course of action. In his own home he looks out of place.

“Do you sleep in all your armor?” You can’t help but ask, it certainly doesn’t look like it’d be comfortable.

“Sometimes, if I don’t feel like taking it off. It’s secluded enough out here that I’m not worried about removing it but at the very least I usually sleep with my helmet on.”

The ST-70 class Razor Crest M-111.

“Is this all you eat?” You turn to face him with a stern look forming on your face, he’s still sitting on his bed, he’s rubbing his neck, embarrassed.

“Are those all you eat when you aren’t here?” You’re frowning as you say it.

“They’re easier than ration packs…” He mumbles.

That’s why his mouth tasted like vanilla.

It wasn’t because he was some vision of the perfect man, it was because he was practically surviving on snack cakes from the markets.

“You need to start eating real food, Mando.”

He doesn’t respond as you shut the cabinet.

“Did it help when I packed food for you? I can do that again.” You turn and start walking to the corner opposite of the kitchenette, just a worn out sofa and a shelf.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“That answer confirms that I should.” You say as you trace the spines of the books he has.

Your fingers trace the hilt of what appears to be a sword with no blade and then two bars of Beskar, holding one up and turning towards him again.

“Are these real?” You pinch the cool steel between your fingers.

“You thief!” You point the vibroblade at him. “You stole this from me, I’ve been looking everywhere for this.”

“You didn’t even realize it was gone.” He shrugs and you know he’s right but that doesn’t make you any less irritated.

“I’m taking this back when I leave.”

“Can’t tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise.” He sets it back down and his helmet settles on your face.

“Very funny, come on, tell me.”

“I’m serious, it’s a surprise.”

He didn’t follow you into the fresher so you have no shame in snooping, so when you open the cabinet behind the mirror he isn’t there to see the confusion on your face for two reasons.

Two toothbrushes.

The instinct is to feel envy for the owner of the second one but you don’t get to because when you pick it up to observe it, it’s tiny.

It’s been used but it’s also clearly for a child.

“Let's look at something else.” There’s an edge of anxiety in his voice and you can’t help but smirk.

“I’ll move them tonight after you I take you back to your chambers.”

Your fingers play with his linen sheets, everything is a different shade of gray on his bed.

One side clearly wins as he blurts out his next few words.

“I’m not going to touch you.”

You’re a bit speechless at that.

An awkward silence begins to fill the cabin until he decides to continue.

“Ever?”

“Ever.” There’s a nervous laughter in your voice when you say it but he seems deadly serious.

“Even if I never decide I’m ready?” You say it as a joke but he nods.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t decide right then and there.

You knew the moment he said “if” instead of “when.”

If you ever decided. Not when you decided.

You already know your answer based on that.

But you don’t want him like that, at least not tonight.

“So I can spend the night?” You tilt your head to the side as you smile at him and he nods.

After a few more minutes of careful deliberate removal he’s standing before you in just his flight suit and helmet.

You nod. It must be exhausting. Never getting a break, always worrying about things like that. Maybe someday you’ll try to get him to relax. Not tonight, he’s already given you so much tonight.

He holds you like a child holds their favorite blanket or toy.

Like you’re the only thing he wants.

“What’s wrong sarad?” He whispers as he looks down at you.

“I can- I can see your jaw.” You mumble as you bury your face in his chest, you can feel a low rumble there.

He’s laughing.

“It’s okay, want me to turn out the light?” He’s pulling you close again.

“You’re an apostate?” He nods and one of his hands rests on the back of your neck trying to calm you a bit, bringing you back down against him. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I am not Mandalorian until I redeem myself.” He hesitates for a moment. “It also means that I removed my helmet in front of a living thing.”

You knew that. You had asked before, you just didn’t know who he had removed it for, you both know you’re waiting for him to say it.

“I had to say goodbye to someone very important to me, and I wanted him to see me. That’s really all there is to it.” He sounds small as he says it and you think about the little toothbrush.

You decide not to press further.

“You’re Mandalorian to me, so I won’t look.” He holds you tighter as you say it.

You had intended to just use your hands to find him but once you’ve got a hold of him you don’t want to do anything else. There’s a soft gasp from him as you cup his jaw.

It’s a strong nose. Prominent and proud on his face, a nose like this should be revered.

And then there’s his hair.

Now you kiss him.

Using his hair as leverage you pull him down to meet your lips.

He doesn’t press further after that, eventually pulling you back against his chest. You plant one last kiss onto the bottom of his chin before nestling against him.

“Goodnight sarad’ika.”

“Goodnight Din.” You inhale his scent one last time before letting yourself succumb to sleep.

Smoke. Metal. Fresh Linen.

It’s the first dreamless sleep you’ve had since your arrival on Naboo.

tag list : dm or reply to be added!!

@stagerightlauren - @dins-riduur-anthe - @littleguy-bendy - @rarachelchel - @laurensnotsparkly -@gerardingurway -@reallyidontcare- @clear-your-mind-and-dream -@estoniacobaltpayne - @buckyandgeraltsupremacy-@cookielovesbook-akie - @diabaroxa - @love-the-abyss - @sasakipsposts - @eclipsedplanet - @fatima-marisa -@somanyminidragons - @dindjarinsmut - @lemonboynsp - @disregardedplant - @sarraa-26 - @babeincolor - @djarinxore

#best kept secret #din djarin x reader #din djarin/reader #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #luckbealincoln

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