#foundling reader

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hai there, i was wondering if you could do a mandalorian x male child reader?

Can the male reader be a foundling and Mando finds us or something like that?

Like Mando is becomeing some sort of father figure?

If not, that's totally fine too!

I love your storys!!!

Din Djarin with a foundling pantoran reader

Headcanons

I can’t remember any of the Mandalorian language *scrunches up in pain*. Reader is Pantoran, cuz hehe blue and yellow tattoos.

Din would find you when he’s out on a bounty, sometime after he’s given Grogu to Luke. This means Din is still feeling extra raw and empty, lacking some purpose with his life other than just Bounty hunting, since he’s realized there’s more to life.

Imagine his surprise, when his latest bounty, some slave trader, is already down for the count when he arrives. Din quickly finds you, in all your blue skinned, yellow facial tattooed glory, glaring and barring your teeth like a wild Tooka.

In the beginning he doesn’t know what to do with you, since you end up telling him you have no one to go back too, since your parents sold you for being an affair baby. It aches in his heart to see someone so young, already so jaded by the world.

He might have already grown attached the moment he saw you, but he’s not gonna force any adoption or anything. But before either of you know it, you’ve wormed your way into his life and are living with him on his ship.

Boba and Fennec are in no way surprised when Din arrives on Tatooine with you following him like a baby duckling. They both have a good laugh when you launch yourself feet first towards an assassin though, both deciding if Din won’t take you, they will.

Because of your time as a slave, you have a hard time trusting, and Din doesn’t wanna force it. So, he gives you all the time you need to get comfortable. He definitely doesn’t start silently crying under his helmet when you fall asleep against his side for the first time.

He ends up changing up the interior of his ship so you can fit, giving you your own seat and bunk area, and making sure things you might need are in reach.

Din doesn’t realize he’s pretty much already adopted you in everything but adoption vow, until Boba points it out to him one day. Boba points out how Din has already given you a few armor pieces in durasteel and has been training you in the Mandalorian fighting styles.

Din becomes flustered and embarrassed, and mumbles something about not wanting to force it. Turns out, you don’t want to force it either because you still fear he will get rid of you like your first parents.

After some fighting, you sneaking along for bounty hunting, you almost dying because of this, and Din having to save you, you guys finally accept how much you have come to care.

Din ends up asking if you would be okay with being adopted by him, to join his small clan with Grogu, and to be his child. You tear up, and at first Din thinks it because you are so against the idea. But then you sob out a yes and cling to him, mumbling how you wanted nothing more than to have a family.

Din speaks the Mandalorian adoption vows, and he can now finally take his helmet off around you, as you are his child and that is the way.

You end up looking into the meanings of Pantoran tattoos with Boba and Fennecs help, and add to your already existing ones to show your clan and Mandalorian ways, as you are now Mandalorian.

Din takes you to meet Grogu, if you haven’t already met him, even if its just over a call or video chat. Grogu is extremely excited to have an older sibling, but also pouty that he cant go with you guys on adventures or get his own armor until he’s of age for his species.

You start getting your own armor as you get older. Its up to you if you follow the way, of never removing your helmet or not, Din just wants you to be happy and healthy and will support you either way.

If you meet Dins former clan, you always make sure to kick Paz in the ankles or the back of the knees (he’s still alive to me, idc idc), because he wronged your father in your eyes. You always end up roughhousing with Paz’s kid, the two of you beating on each other like Mandalorian kids do.

Because of your age Din slows down with his bounty hunting, and does smaller and less dangerous contracts, because he doesn’t wanna leave you without a parent. He’s definitely set up something with Boba and Fennec, that they’ll take care of you if he were to pass, just in case.

When you get older he takes you along with him, helping you become the kinda person you wanna be. If you end up wanting to be a bounty hunter, he’s the best trainer there is, and if you wanna be something completely different, he will find someone who can teach you.

Din is a tad bit overprotective, even as you grow older, its in his blood and he can’t help it. He just wants his kid to be safe and happy, and can’t bear the thought of you being hurt even though Din knows that’s just the way of the galaxy.

But no matter what, Din is a very loving father, even though he is a little awkward and tense in the beginning. He would do anything for his kid, and if you were ever in danger or kidnapped, he’s ready to destroy the entire galaxy to get you back.

[miryum]

Foundling Villa- Chapter 1

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, arranged marriage, and a mention of misogyny

ao3 link   next chapter>>

��My lady, we’re crossing the border into Enza. We should be arriving in an hour.” You nodded at your maid, indicating that you had heard her. You didn’t look away from the window. 

“What do you think the prince will be like?” A younger maid gossiped quietly. The older maid shook her head at the inexperienced one, shushing her. “Sorry, ma’am,” the youngest maid whispered in your direction, head hung low. You think she’s named Elena. Your other maid who had been with you since you turned fourteen was a lovely woman named Sara. She knew not to interrupt your stupor. 

Elena’s words dug at you, though. What was he like? The prince and you had only communicated through one letter. Your family had urged you to write to him, and so you did. You received a short letter in reply. There hadn’t been any communication since.

Your mother had told you the carriage ride would be short. She was wrong. It was too quiet, giving you time to dig up anxieties you had attempted to repress.

You were starting to feel guilt about your last days in Williams- the kingdom that your mother and father ruled. You had avoided your family during the final nights of your stay. You weren’t sure if it was out of contempt or not wanting to see your brothers and sisters pitying faces. You had stayed huddled in your room, watching stoically as Sara and Elena tried to get your opinion on what to pack. 

At first, when your parents told you that for the prosperity of the kingdom, they were marrying you off to an obscure prince in Enza, you were angry. You had watched your older sisters get married off, one by one, each with varying results. One of your sisters gained a connection with their husband and fell in love. Another sister became sweet friends with their husband, and while there was no romantic love, there was a strong platonic relationship. Your last sister was married to a prick and rightly hated him. He was misogynist and had anger issues that bullied your sister into submission. 

If you got nothing else, you were satisfied with being friends with the prince. 

So your anger turned to sad acceptance. At least Enza was a beautiful place.

Your older brother had his choice of mistresses for his bride, in which all had been vetted to see if they were a proper fit to be Queen of Williams. Your youngest brother still had some years of freedom before your parents started pointing out the eligible ladies in court. 

But the prince of Enza had no choice. While his older brother needed a suitable queen and therefore had his pick, the younger prince was just another pawn in the game of hierarchical chess. The kingdoms of Enza and Williams both had something to gain from the other and you and the prince were simply the bond of that compromise. Enza, being the bigger and stronger empire, would protect Williams in times of need, while Williams, being a small mining community, promised to supply Enza with gold and iron. Neither kingdom could stab the other in the back with their heirs married.

“There’s a house,” you spoke for the first time during the trip. “A couple kilometres away from Enza’s palace. We’re going to pass it soon. It’s not far from the border.” You took a breath, shaking with the realisation of your future. “I’m going to buy it. The prince isn’t in line for the throne, so I’m not required to live at the palace. It has five bedrooms with adjacent bathrooms. The kitchen is a small thing, but manageable. There’s a sweet little fireplace in the sitting room, which, with a little bit of rearrangement, can double as a dining room. But my favourite part,” you paused and pointed out the window. “Look, there it is.” The two maids stared out the window with you, all three of you taking in a large farmhouse in the distance. Compared to William’s palace, it was small, but any peasant would think it was an empire. The house was three stories and coloured a light baby blue. The windows were painted a bright white that stood out in contrast. There was a wrap-around porch that a small swing hung from. “You can’t see it,” you said, “but the best part is in the back. There’s this large field that leads to a forest.” The house was long gone, but you still gazed out the window hopefully. Sara and Elena exchanged a glance. “I’m hoping to employ a small staff. I’ll have to get a cook, of course, and maybe a cleaner. And then a stable master.” 

“A stable master, my lady?” Sara wondered if she heard you right. 

“Yes. Wouldn’t it be lovely to finally buy a horse or two? You know that mother never wanted me to ride, so I’ve only ridden a couple times. I would love to choose a name and develop a connection with a horse.” 

“And what about the prince, ma’am?” Elena wondered. 

You shrugged. “He can choose whatever he wants. After the wedding night, I’m not required to stay. Neither is he. If he wants to stay at the palace, he can. If he wants to visit me, I’ll allow it. And if he would like to try and live with me… we’ll see how it goes.” After a moment of thought, you said, “I think I’ll name the house the Foundling Villa.” 

The countryside slowly changed to a small village and then a quaint market. You saw people milling about, carrying a carton of eggs, hauling water from the well, or dragging a cow through the street. Most people stopped and stared at seeing an aristocratic carriage prance through their streets. You pressed your body against the seat and stared straight ahead, knowing that it made it harder for people outside to see you. You didn’t want them to see you. You couldn't have them see you. 

Elena peeked out the window and a little girl waved excitedly at her. Elena waved back. The girl clapped happily and tugged at her mother’s arm. 

Slowly, the carriage turned to an inclined road and the palace came into view. Sara sucked in a breath and blinked owlishly at the sight before her. Elena muttered an, “Holy shit.” You frowned at it. It looked like it was overly compensating for something. It was a massive building built with large blocks of brick and stone that looked like it could house the entire population of Williams. The flag of Enza flew proudly from the spires. An impressive perron stood imposingly before you, laid with a red carpet. The King, Queen, and the three princes of Enza stood on the steps to welcome you. 

The reality of it all finally crashed down on you. You were supposed to marry a man who you had only heard of through one letter. You had only seen him in portraits. You were expected to move to another kingdom, which you had never set foot in, and never return home unless accompanied by your new husband. 

You shook your head widely and your hands clutched around the dress you’d chosen this early morning. “I can’t.” You stated, “Turn this around. I want to go home. Turn the carriage around.” 

“My lady, you must go,” Elena pleaded. “They’re waiting.” 

“No!” You cried, “I am not going to marry him! You can’t make me! I will not walk out there to my doom. Take me back to Williams.” You tried to sound stern, but emotion cracked through. Outside, you saw the youngest brother whisper something to your fiancé.

“Milady,” Sara tried her hand at calming you down. “Princess. Y/n!” You whipped around to look at her. “All you have to do,” Sara leaned forward and clasped your hands in hers. “Is go out there and bow to the King and Queen. That’s it. Then Elena and I will be with you the entire rest of the way. We’ll be by your side walking through the doors, finding your room, getting you prepared for dinner, and if you want, we could even take dinner in your room instead of with the family. But you must step out of the carriage.” 

Your jaw clenched and reluctantly nodded. Sara smiled softly and then knocked on the wall. The footman jumped down and opened the door for you. You exhaled, your heart pounding like you just lost a sprint, took the footman’s hand, and stepped out. 

And then you make eye contact with Charles Leclerc, Prince of Enza, and your future husband.

[osachiyo]

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — fem!reader, cunnilingus, teasing, degradation, mean!veritas, pussy slapping, prone bone, unprotected sex, he puts u in a headlock etc • my first time writing for this man ! i hope i did him justice :3 happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni & NOT PROOFREAD

VERITAS'S eyes raked over your entire frame, his mouth working wonders on your cunt, while you practically gushed on his tongue — "did i tell you to stop?" he raised an eyebrow, flicking your clit with his tongue as if to punctuate his words.

"n-no but—" "but?" his tone was harsh, causing you to flinch from the venom in his voice. "but it's hard to focus w-while you're shoving your tongue down my pussy, duh."

veritas only chuckled, pulling his mouth away from your aching cunt — strings of your arousal and his saliva connecting his pink lips to your pussy. "wha—" smack!

a harsh slap landed on your clit, making you yelp and jolt at the sting. "you're talking just fine, but you can't read a simple paragraph from the book? are you a brat or just simply stupid?" he hissed, pretty eyes narrowing down to slits — lips pressed into a frown.

"i —" you cried out when another smack landed on your cunt, thighs desperately trying to close but his hands easily pried them apart. "you think you're so cheeky, hm? running that smart mouth to get on my nerves on purpose? whatever do i do with you..." he sighed, running the knuckles of his fingers over your puffy folds as if to soothe it from the stinging burn.

a desperate whine left your lips when veritas parted your folds, licking a long stripe up before circling his tongue on your clit, big hands pinching and feeling up the soft skin of your thighs. "keep reading."

"…a-and gibraltar as a girl where i was a flower of — nggh —!" your head rolled back with a breathless moan when he started tongue-fucking you, while his thumb drew figure eights on your puffy clit. "go on," you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, his attention solely on you. the way you quiver so adorably while moaning his name — struggling so hard to let out coherent sentences.. it made his cock twitch and strain painfully against his pants.

"please," you begged, the tears in your glossy eyes finally threatening to spill and fuck — it shouldn't have made him harder than he already was. "i - i can't anymore, veritas," you hiccuped, the man's heart fluttering at the way his name rolled off your tongue so beautifully.

"..fine," strong arms flipped you over with ease — making you drop the book with a surprised yelp, now positioned on your tummy. you tried to look back but a hand pushed your head down, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear,

"— but brace yourself, because im not gonna go easy, slut."

that was all he said before pushing himself into your warm, welcoming walls — pelvis resting on your ass. "f-fuck, still so tight," veritas groaned, his free hand foundling the fat of your ass before landing a swift smack on it, making your clench even more around him. "ve - veritas —" you gasped when he wrapped an arm around your throat, effectively putting you in a headlock as his thrusts finally found their rhythm — rough and calculated.

it wasn't long before you could feel yourself getting lost in the hazy fog of pleasure — eyes threatening to roll back as his cock hits that one rough patch inside of you with strong but calculated thrusts, along with the mean, degrading words he whispered into your ear — you came embarrassingly fast.

"y-yes yes yes — ! right there oh god —!" you couldn't help but bite down on his forearm as you made a mess on his cock, some of your slick running down his shaft to his balls — even soaking his thighs in the process.

"god, such a messy fucking girl, aren't you?" he spat — thrusts becoming more powerful and his voice becoming higher in pitch — indicating that he too, was close to his release.

and it didn't take long for him to cum — hips pressing against your ass, while spurts of his seed coated your gooey walls, his face buried in your neck as he gives you everything he had to offer.

he slowly lifted his head after a few minutes of inhaling your intoxicating scent, voice raspy and deep —

"you still have to read the book, you do know that right?"

[bumblebeezer]

“Prove It.”

Prompt:  kissing each other to prove there’s nothing there, even though it’s a lie, and the kiss proves it

Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader

Word Count: ~2200

Warnings: potentially ooc, reader is shorter than Din, idk please please please lmk if i’ve missed something that you feel needs a warning!!!

Summary: Peli’s meddling leads to some kissy kissies. Shy Mando. Giving me season one vibes honestly??? Imagine season one setting (literally just the Razor Crest) with season 3 relationships. Hope y’all enjoy!!!

Mando’s frustrated grunt echoed off of the paneling of the Razor Crest, followed by a muttered curse, his voice crackling through the modulator. 

“Dank farrik.” 

Peli, who was currently watching as her repair droids dutifully attempted to complete her share of work (and taking their sweet time, if you asked her), snorted and raised her brows.

“What’s eatin’ at ya, Mando?” 

The Mandalorian growled, the noise low, coming from the back of his throat. As much as he…appreciated Peli, her commentary left much to be desired. 

“Kriffing panel…” Din muttered, his gloved hand tightening around the wrench as he briefly entertained the thought of throwing it as far as he could. Peli groaned and rose from her chair, dramatically rolling her eyes. “Well, maybe if you weren’t flying something pre-Imperial, you wouldn’t have these problems!” 

Din sighed behind the beskar helmet, the puff of air crackling through the modulator. There was no point in retorting, especially when Peli got to work beside him, inspecting the paneling with an unimpressed look. She opened her mouth to speak when the sound of a familiar pair of footsteps drifted into Peli’s hangar, accompanied by the shrill giggles of the child. 

Mando straightened at the sound of your voice, his helmet barely concealing the way he nervously cleared his throat. 

“We’re back!” You chirped, the child echoing you with a delighted chirp of his own. “The markets were kind of dry, but little guy and I still found some supplies.”

You turned the corner, said little guy in your arm, your other hand holding a few bags, a wide, genuine smile on your face. 

“…That’s good,” Mando replied, the tension in his shoulders melting away at the sight of you holding his foundling. Your smile somehow brightened. Din felt his knees going weak. 

Unaware of the Mandalorian’s inner turmoil, you stepped forward, chattering with Peli about the market’s outrageous prices, and gently placed Grogu into Din’s waiting arms, your smile softening as he gave his foundling a nod.

“I’ll go ahead and put these up,” you hummed, holding up your bags and giving the two a nod of your own before turning and briskly walking up the ramp, disappearing into the Razor Crest, Din’s t-shaped visor slowly following your movements along the way. 

Grogu’s little clawed hand was reaching for Din’s gloved fingertip when Peli snapped him from his reverie, clearing her throat. 

“…Well,” she drawled, not even bothering to brush the Tatooine dust from her hands before clapping Mando on the back. “Look at you, Mando! I knew there was a heart somewhere inside all that beskar.” 

Din’s helmet whipped around, his glare palpable even through the opaque t-visor. He scoffed and shook his head, as if her claim wasn’t even worth dignifying with an audible denial. Truthfully, he was just convinced he’d prove her point if he opened his mouth. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grumbles, turning to face the Razor Crest’s faded paneling, Grogu still balanced in his arm.

Peli merely scoffs, her voice loud and carefree as always. “Oh, come on, Mando! You perk up whenever they come around like an ectotherm in the twin suns. If you don’t have feelings for her then I’m next in line for Daimyo of Tatooine.”

Din stiffened and whirled around to glance at the open gangway, his heart pounding within his armored chest. 

“Lower your voice,” he hissed, modulator crackling beneath his helmet. 

“Pft, it’s not like they’re gonna overhear,” Peli waved a hand, unbothered by Din’s distress. “And besides, Mando, they probably already know. You’re not exactly subtle—“ 

A pair of footsteps stomping against the gangway interrupted the mechanic as you rejoined the two at the base of the ship. 

“Subtle about what?” You asked, eyeing Mando with a suspiciously amused look. Beneath the helmet, Din floundered for something to say, barely managing to mutter a soft “Nothing,” at the same time as Peli exclaimed, “His feelings for you, obviously!” 

You merely laughed, placing your hands on your hips and turning from Peli to Din. “Peli, I don’t know what they put into your Jet Juice, but Mando and I are just…work associates.” 

Your amused smile faltered for a moment. Could you call Mando a friend? Would he allow it? 

“Strictly professional,” you continued, like the two of you didn’t co-parent Grogu on a daily basis, falling into the routine as if you’d been doing it for years. “I could probably kiss him and get no reaction.” Your smile turned smug, baiting Peli, who, to Din’s horror, took the bait with a smug smile of her own.

“Alright, then,” she placed her hand on her hips. “Prove it.”

You scoffed, your cheeks warming, but otherwise appearing the picture of confidence. 

Time slowed for Din as you approached, striding toward him with purpose. He tensed, Grogu cooing curiously in his arms, as you reached up with gentle hands, cupping the carved cheeks of his beskar helmet, careful not to jostle it. 

Din held his breath as you slowly stood on your toes, pressing your forehead to his. After a moment, his shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head downward, returning the gentle headbutt.

Pulling away, you turned to give Peli a smug look.

“See? No reaction.”

Peli threw out her arms, gesturing toward you three. “What kind of a kiss was that?” 

“A Mandalorian one,” Din grunted through his helmet, carefully placing Grogu back into your arms before turning back toward the paneling, getting back to work as if nothing had happened.

He was vaguely aware of Peli walking away, grumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “not even a real kiss” under her breath. But he couldn’t focus on it too much. Not with the way his heart was stuttering in his chest.

~

The twin suns of Tatooine had gone down by the time the Mandalorian retired into the Razor Crest, watching as you and Grogu showed off the goodies you’d snagged from the markets earlier that day while he cleaned his blaster. 

He typically gave you his full attention, responding to the child’s interjecting coos and gurgles. But this time, he was noticeably quiet (well—quieter than usual), giving you nods instead of his usual dry-humored one-liners. 

With a faltering smile, you cleared your throat and picked Grogu up, stroking the wiry hairs atop his little head as he yawned. “I’m going to put him to bed,” you hummed, watching as Mando gave the child’s clawed hand an affectionate squeeze. 

Making your way toward the bunk Din and Grogu shared, you gave the little green guy a strained smile. “Maybe I took things too far earlier. Do you think so?” 

As if in response, Grogu gave you a little frown, gurgling softly, his large eyes drooping shut. 

Bidding the little one goodnight, you made your way back to the table to find that Din had disappeared. Frowning, you climbed up into the cockpit to find the Mandalorian in question setting up the ship’s shields. Grunting, you pulled yourself up and crept closer, crossing your arms. 

“Alright, Mando. What is it? Credit for your thoughts?” 

The Mandalorian didn’t turn to face you, keeping his visor trained on the controls instead. “You can’t afford ‘em, cyar’ika,” he muttered, no real heat to his voice. He was teasing you, then.

“Was it the Keldabe kiss?” You continued, lips pulling into a frown. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed it was alright—“

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, voice gruff as he distracts himself with the control panel. “Peli was right, anyways. Wasn’t a real kiss—“

“Mando—“

“Wasn’t much of a Keldabe kiss, either—“

“Mando-“

“You’ve got to really headbutt your partner so they know that you mean it—” 

“DIN!” 

The Mandalorian paused and finally turned to meet your gaze, the t-shaped visor of his helmet as imposingly neutral as ever. 

Your cheeks were warm as you stared up at him, eyes narrowed in some sort of exasperation. 

“…Would you like a real kiss?” 

Now, Din’s heard all kinds of jokes and taunts as a result of the Mandalorian armor he wears. He’s heard accusations that he’s made of tin, that he’s inhuman, a mere droid beneath the armor. All untrue, of course. But in that moment, he may as well be a droid with the way his brain short circuits at your words. 

“…What?”

You sauntered forward, arms loosely crossed over your chest, and shrugged, as if this were totally normal. 

“Did you want a kiss? Not a Keldabe kiss, but a—a standard kiss.”

You held the Mandalorian’s gaze. At least, you held the gaze of his t-visor, unable to see his shocked face within. You noticed the way his back straightened, his shoulders tensing nervously, but you pressed on. 

“Just to prove Peli wrong, of course,” you shrugged again. “I mean…we certainly can’t kiss in front of her without her seeing your face. But I could blindfold myself and she’ll just have to take our word for it—”

“Yes.” 

The words are barely out of your mouth before the Mandalorian is agreeing, so quick that it leaves you reeling for a moment. 

“I—” “Yes,” Mando repeats, already standing in front of you, his helmet tilted downwards. “To prove Peli wrong,” he adds, his voice sounding a little strained. 

You give him a nod, producing a blindfold in the form of an old scarf. It’s as you’re tying a knot at the back of your head that Din realizes what he’s just agreed to. His thoughts begin racing. What if he’s bad at it? What if he’s noticeably bad at this? He’s never kissed anyone before, and, oh, Maker above, this is his first kiss—

“You alright?” 

Even with the blindfold on, you can sense the Mandalorian’s nervous energy, and you give him a little smile. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you murmur. 

“I want to,” Din murmurs, still looking down at you, blindfolded and smiling nervously and waiting and all for him. You hear the sound of something leathery hitting the floor of the Razor Crest, and then you hear the hiss of the decompressor as he removes his helmet, and suddenly it’s your turn to swallow nervously, your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides as his hands—no gloves—are cupping your jaw, his left thumb gently stroking your cheek. You hold your breath, the anticipation making your chest tight in a way that’s strangely pleasant, and wait for Din to move. After all, you’re the one wearing the blindfold, the ball’s entirely in his court. 

He takes a moment, just staring down at you, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted, just openly admiring you without the haze of the filters in his helmet, noting the exact tone of your skin, the pink pout of your lips, the color of your hair. 

Leaning in, he presses his lips to yours, barely suppressing a hum of pleasure at the way you gasp against his lips. Otherwise, you don’t move, standing stiffly while he kisses you. It’s a chaste thing, really. Just a peck that goes on a little longer than it usually would. But you’re just as breathless when you pull away, panting slightly. 

“See?” You grin, eyes crinkling beneath the blindfold as you desperately try to even your breathing, to calm your racing heart. You open your mouth to say something else—probably some stupid joke—when Din’s pressing his lips against yours again, one of his hands leaving your cheek to tangle in your hair. You moan softly against him, eyes fluttering closed beneath the blindfold, and practically melt into him. He mirrors your moan (though it sounds a little more desperate than yours, more of a whimper than a moan, perhaps) and presses himself against you. He’s forgone his helmet for this kiss, but the rest of his armor remains attached to his flight suit, and you steady yourself against his chest, your palms warm against the cold beskar. 

When you pull away, you’re both properly panting, your lips blindly chasing after him. “Din…” 

You murmur his name, silently asking for more, lips pouting when he doesn’t immediately give you another kiss. 

“Cyar’ika…” 

His voice is gravelly even without the modulator, and delightfully pitched, like he’s silently begging you for more, too. 

Suddenly, you feel his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling as his hands find and cup your jaw, gently holding you close. 

“Cyar’ika, I…” 

Din sighs, his eyes closing, his shoulder slumping in some sort of defeat. 

“Cyar’ika, there’s something I need to tell you,” he breathes, watching your face for any sign of disgust or rejection. “Peli was right,” he mutters. “I…I…care for you. More than an associate. More than a friend. You mean so much to me—you and the kid. I don’t know what I would do if…if you weren’t here with us.” 

He swallows, the sound audible in the quiet of the ship, shoulders tensing as he waits for you to pull away and tell him you don’t feel the same way, to demand that he drop you off at the nearest spaceport once the Razor Crest is fit to fly again. 

Imagine his surprise as you merely grin up at him (eyes crinkling beneath the blindfold yet again), cup his cheeks and pull him down for another kiss, murmuring two words against his lips: “Prove it.”

[absurdthirst]

Unmasking the Mand'alor {Mando x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: Drinking, flirting, insults, fighting, caveman-like behavior, helmet stays on, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, clothed male/naked female, first kisses, confessions, wedding vows, loving making

Comments: You want a helmet on Mando to fuck to pretend they are the one you really want and think you can never have. Until flirting with one in front of Mando makes him react.

A/N: Canon? Who dat?

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || The Mandalorian MasterList ||

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

Mandalore has changed. You glance around the bar, noting the repairs that have been done,the debris cleared out. It had once been the armory, fitting to be the social center of a society of warriors where their weapons are a part of their religion. Mandos wearing helmets are almost in equal number to those that are showing their faces, the two sects still managing to coexist peacefully - most days. The Bespin Fizz in your hand is smooth, although you really want a Fuzzy Tauntaun next time. The bartender was a Mando that still believes that Creed involves not showing his face, making him almost as attractive as one that had brought you here. 

Din strides into the bar, his hand empty of a drink but he notices how everyone looks at him. The leader of Mandalore. His visor scans the crowd until he finds you at the bar. You are the star of his dreams, every holovid porno he watches he imagines you in their place. He can’t have you though. You don’t want his baggage. Dealing with the kid, being the Mand’alore, it’s too much to handle for him and he’d be selfish to make you deal with it alongside him. He sighs and taps his gloved fingers on his thigh, watching you as you watch him walk in.

He feels your eyes on him as he makes his way through the crowd until he is pushing his way into a space beside you at the bar. He orders a drink despite knowing he won’t remove his helmet to drink it. It makes him look more approachable and he wants the others to feel like they can speak to him about their worries and concerns regarding Mandalore. He is reluctant to take up an official role, never wanting to be a leader, but he needs to position himself for covert if he is to establish the Mandalorians as a force to be reckoned with within the galaxy. “And whatever she is having.” He adds, tilting his helmet to the bartender before he looks at you.

“The Fuzzy Tauntaun this time, Josin.” You tell the blue armored bartender. You cock your eyebrow up as you turn to see your own eyes reflected back at you in the darkness of his visor. “You gonna drink with me, Mando?” You ask playfully, taking a long swallow of your Bespin. “Want a straw?”

“You know I won’t drink it. I’m just here to put in an appearance and then go back to my quarters. The kid is with the other foundlings tonight. Sleepover or something.” He says, knowing that the reason he’s come out is so he doesn’t just sit in his room thinking about you and yet here you are. “You can have my drink too.” He promises, glancing around the room again. “Are you having fun?”

“So far.” There’s the dull roar of conversations and the occasional shit talking that gets a little out of hand, but there’s not been any fights in here. “Although….” You turn and smirk at him. “You need some music in here. Liven the place up a bit.” You drain the rest of your drink and shrug. “I had fun at the cantina on Mos Eisley.”

“I’ll be sure to get that sorted. Not like I haven’t got bigger things to do.” Din rolls his eyes behind his visor even though you can’t see it. Your drinks are placed in front of you and Din immediately pulls his credits from the pouch on his belt. “On the house for our fearless leader.” Joisin says and Din can hear the grin in his voice. “Thanks.” He replies even though he knows he will leave a tip.

You smirk and give a small chuckle at his sarcasm. It had thrown you off at first, the dry wit, but now it just makes him even more attractive to you. Even if you’ve never seen his face. It honestly irritates you that Bo Katan has, and not you. Wanting to put some features to the faceless fantasies that you have. You pick up your drink and take a sip. “Oh that’s nice.” You coo, turning back to the bartender and winking at him. “Thanks babe. I’m gonna have to have another of these.”

Din is thankful for the mask as he bristles at the affection you use towards the bartender. He wants to hear you call him that. He taps his fingers on the counter, watching you take a sip of your drink. “Maker, this place has the best drinks.” You moan and Din’s cock twitches in his flight suit, unable to help himself as he wonders what you’d sound like moaning his name.

You are completely unaware of the thoughts going through Mando’s head, sipping your drink and looking around. Surrounded by walls of metal clad men, you are soaking wet because of the one standing beside you, but he doesn’t want you. You need to get laid, badly. “Who is that?” You ask, nodding towards a Mandalorian in the corner that has a green chest plate, but his helmet is pure beskar, like Mando’s.

“Throck Kac.” Din answers, his brow furrowed with a question of why you’re interested in learning that information. Throck is a strong Mandalorian, almost strong enough to challenge Din for leadership but he hasn’t. Not yet. Din is always looking over his shoulder in case anyone decides to challenge him. Not that he cares about the dark saber, he’s more concerned about being killed.

“Throck Kac.” You repeat his name and look over at him in interest. He’s obviously one that doesn’t take his helmet off, but you ask anyway. “And he’s - like you? Doesn’t show his face?” You don’t want him to remove his helmet, the face above you needs to be a visor. Especially if you are going to fuck him and imagine it’s the man beside you.

Din is confused about why you want to know that but he answers the question, “yes. He keeps his helmet on at all times.” He tilts his own helmet to look at you as you have this look in your eye when you stare at Throck.

You hum, taking another sip of your drink and the visor turns towards you. You shiver slightly and look back towards Mando. It’s not the same, but you know he won’t touch you and you want to be touched. “Good to know.” You murmur nonchalantly.

Din notices your shiver and he frowns under his mask, wondering what caused that, and he sees Throck making his way through the crowd towards you. He taps his gloved fingers on the counter as he watches the other Mandalorian make his way to you.

You see Mando bristle, stiffen slightly as he taps those orange gloved fingers on the bar and you turn to head. Seeing that Throck is coming towards you. You turn your body and take another sip of your drink.

Din can’t watch this shit. He turns his visor towards the mirror behind the bar and he watches as Throck puffs his chest under the armor and walks up to you. “What is a beautiful lady like you doing in a shit hole like this?” He asks, tilting his helmet.

The line isn’t that great, but it’s better than no line. You tilt your head coyly and grin. “Waiting for something to happen.” You admit, not noticing that Mando has turned away. You try so hard not to watch him every moment. “Why? What are you doing in a shit hole like this?”

“Waiting for something to happen.” He replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice, “but it looks like I’ve found what I’ve been waiting for.” He nudges a little closer, pushing Din back who huffs under his helmet and watches in the mirror. “Oh really?” You smirk and Throck nods, “been waiting on the most beautiful woman in the galaxy to show up and here she is.”

You roll your eyes and wish that someone else would pay you outrageous compliments like that. “Have you seen every woman in the galaxy?” You tease. “I don’t think so, because there are some women here with their helmets on.” You nod to the female Mandos standing around. “Maybe they are the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.”

Din rolls his eyes under his helmet and he flattens his hand against the counter, resisting the urge to clench his fist. “I have eyes. A visor that can see the smallest details. You - mesh’la - are the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. In my galaxy at least.”

You smirk as you take another sip of your drink. You aren’t drunk, but the alcohol makes you bolder than you would normally be. “If you fuck half as well as you flatter, I might be in for a good night, Mando.” You use the moniker you use for your Mando on purpose, wanting to see how the other man likes it. You don’t want to call his name out in bed, because you won’t be thinking about the man fucking you.

Din clenches his fist on the countertop as he listens to you call Throck “Mando.” He loves when you affectionately call him that. He clenches his jaw when he watches Throck lean closer, “well why don’t we find a quiet room and find out just how good your night can be?” Throck asks, a smirk clear in the tone of his voice.

You bite your lip, hating that he doesn’t have that musky, spicy scent that Mando has. But his voice is modulated and as long as his helmet stays on, you wouldn’t mind him fucking you. “Why don’t we?” You purr. “My quarters are empty.” You offer.

Din hears tour sultry offer and his jaw clenched, his chest tightening at the thought of another Mandalorian touching you…fucking you. He hates it and he shakes his helmet, turning towards you. “That’s not a good idea.” He says and Throck scoffs, “why not? The lady wants me. I want her. Stay out of this Mand’alore.” He spits sarcastically and Din turns towards him, his chest puffing in defense. “Because I’ve heard that the woman who spend the night with you end up with bruises that take weeks to heal.  She deserves better than that. Walk away now.” He demands, his voice taking on the authoritative edge.

You are surprised that Mando didn’t mention this sooner, he had to have known your interest. He’s not innocent. You learned that when you found out he used to be involved with that Twi’lek from his old crew. So it’s just that he doesn’t want you, and apparently, he doesn’t want anyone else to want you either. Just a companion for the kid. “I’ll be fine.” You promise. “Besides, I like it a little rough.”

Din hisses through clenched teeth, "not that rough. He chokes them. He - they can hardly walk." Din has watched many holovids on rough sex but the things he has heard about Throck makes his blood boil. He's a sadist. "She said she can handle it. Let the lady decide what she wants to do. Come on, mesh'la. I'll show you a good time." He reaches for your hand and Din sees red. He slaps his hand away and shoves the other Mandalorian backwards. "Don't touch her." He growls, jealousy and protectiveness swelling in his chest.

You jump back, surprised by the sudden defense from Mando. He’s always defended you against enemies, but this feels completely different. “She wants me to touch her.” Throck snorts, bowing up and stepping forward again in challenge. The conversations have died down and you feel every helmet and eyes turned towards you. “Stop.” You huff, not wanting them to fight.

Din growls, shaking his helmet, and he shoves Throck again. "She doesn't know what she wants." Din pushes him back again and the Mandalorian falls back into a table where several Mandos cry out as their drinks are spilled and cups fly onto the floor.

You don’t take offense to his insulting comment because you are too busy gasping in shock. “Mando!” You hiss, watching the scene deteriorate and unable to stop it as several push you out of the way as they crowd in.

Din sees red as Throck swings his arm to punch Din in the side after he stumbles to his feet, finding the vulnerable spots where the Beskar doesn’t cover. Din hisses and fights back, his strength and experience on his side as he battles with the other Mandalorian.

“Stop! Stop this!” You shout, but your voice is drowned out by the cheering of the crowd of Mandalorians. They love fighting, it’s practically a sport to them and the more vicious the better. Even when they are trying to rebuild their religion, they will always cheer on a fight. You shove through the crowd and push through to see Din head butting Throck with his helmet and punching him under the jaw where the just fabric covers his chin.

Din is clouded by jealousy and fury as he fights Throck. "You want her for yourself?" Throck realizes as Din throws him down on the ground and he speaks his winded epiphany. "Shut up." Din growls, lifting him to drop him to the floor again. The Mandalorian wheezes out his concession and Din's chest plate heaves as he turns towards you. "Din." You speak his name and it's like he's in a fog as he strides towards you, grabbing your legs to lift you over his shoulder. The others cheer as he carries you from the bar and he ignores your cries of protest and confusion.

“What- what are you doing!?” You cry out, head hanging down and you curl up your fist to beat against his back. Hitting it and crying out in pain because you forgot he had a backplate. “Put me down!” You yell, kicking your legs but he doesn’t stop. Mandalorians who weren’t in the bar turning towards you as Mando stalks down the hall with you hauled over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Put me down, dank ferik!” Your hand slaps against his ass, the only unarmored portion of his body that you can reach.

Din ignores your pleas and the ache in his ass as you protest him carrying you away. He strides to his quarters, only setting you down when the door slides shut to his rooms. “What the fuck?” You cry as you stumble when he sets you down on your feet. Din doesn’t really know what to say. He feels like his body is on fire, his blood boiling, and the thought of anyone touching you makes his fists clench. He doesn’t even think when the next word escapes his lips, his mind still hazy with emotion, “strip.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. That single word burning through you and your cunt clenches with need. The mandalorian you have dreamed about is standing like and impenetrable wall in front of you and ordering you to strip. You don’t argue, reaching for your shirt hem and pulling it up over your head.

He watches, frozen on the spot as your skin - the skin he’s dreamed of, fantasised about so many fucking times, is finally exposed to his hungry eyes. He doesn’t say a word as you work on removing your clothes and his cock swells in his flight suit and his fingers twitch with the need to touch you.

The silence lingers between you and if you weren’t seemingly wrapped up in a trance of your fantasies, you would question him. You can't, though, you can’t say a word as you strip down to your bare skin and stand completely naked in front of a man that you have barely caught glimpses of.

Din’s eyes trail along your form and he groans your name, stepping forward to grab your waist and he drags you against him. His gloved hands slide down to your ass, greedy to feel all of the woman he’s dreamed about. “Mesh’la. Tell me what you want.” He demands, squeezing your globes of flesh in his hands.

You moan when he touches you, eyes sliding halfway closed as you burn the feel of his touch into your memory. Half afraid this is a fevered or drunken dream. You feel drunk when you haven't just moments before. “You.” You whimper. “I want you, Din. Always you.”

Din groans when you speak what he’s dreamed of hearing for so long. He walks you back towards his bed, letting your body drop and he keeps his armor on as his gloved hands explore your body. He squeezes your breast, watching your mouth drop open. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He confesses, “never imagined I’d have you.”

You whine in frustration, hating that he could have had you so long ago. “Anytime you wanted me you could have had me.” You gasp when he pinches your nipples and tugs on them. “Anytime.”

“Fuck.” He curses, his cock now throbbing and pressing against his suit in a way that makes him ache to be free. He focuses on you though, pawing at your tits, burning the sight of them to his memory in case you decide this is a one off. “Can I - can I touch you?” He asks and you giggle, “you already are.” Din shakes his head, “no. I want to touch you.” He says as his hand slips  lower to cup your cunt.

“Please.” You beg, reaching out and catching the edge of his pauldron and you try to pull him closer. “You can touch me however you want. As long as you don’t stop.” You want him to strip, but you feel like he won’t. Even if he kept the helmet on.

Your permission makes his stomach twist and he swears he nearly cums then and there. He hisses your name and withdraws his hand. You whimper in protest and he chuckles, removing his glove so his bare fingers can touch your wet flesh. “Cyar’ika. You’re so wet.” He murmurs in awe as he circles your clit.

You close your eyes, not sure if you should stare at the smooth, tanned skin of his fingers. His nails are short, neat and clean. Instead you just feel the way he touches you with certainty. “Always wet around you.” You confess breathlessly. “Imagining- fuck- sitting on your cock while you were flying the Crest.”

Din groans, his gaze flicking between your cunt and your face. His digits already coated in your arousal and he twitches in his flight suit, "you could've had that anytime you wanted." He promises and rubs your clit, wanting to hear you moan his name.

“Fuuuuuuck.” You whine, irritated at yourself for not pushing him to touch you earlier. “Din….Inside.” You beg, wanting his fingers to curl up inside you. Opening your eyes, you stare into the dark visor of his helmet and wish that you knew where his eyes were focused right this second.

He's watching your face as he slides his fingers lower and he starts to push his finger into your cunt. You're clenching around his digit and he hisses, his gaze flicking down to your pussy as he adds another finger to feel how tight you are.

“So thick.” His fingers are thicker than your own and your eyes roll back while your hips grind down onto his hand. “Oh Maker, it’s- so damn good.

He can't believe how tight you are around his fingers and he starts to pump them in and out of your dripping cunt. "You are so fucking beautiful." He murmurs, curling his fingers when he pushes them deeper.

“You are.” You groan, even though you’ve never seen his face. His body, the armor and the way he wears it, his strength and competency all make him sexy. “Touched myself thinking about you. About this.”

Din groans at your revelation and he twists his wrist so he can press his thumb against your clit. “I’ve jerked off so many times thinking about you, cyar’ika. Fuck. So many times. Imagined you in my cot.” He confesses with a modulated tone.

“Didn’t think you wanted me.” You pant, you tone needy as he gives you exactly what you want and still you crave more. “It’s- it’s why I was going to take Throck.” You admit. “His helmet looks the closest to yours.”

Din growls, his fingers pumping faster, “he can’t have you. He doesn’t deserve you. I don’t - I don’t either but I can give you what you need. He can’t.” His blood boils at the thought of it and he reaches down with his free hand to squeeze his bulge, trying to find some relief.

Your eyes have opened again and you watch as he squeezes his cock. Making you moan at the slight. “Fuck.” You bite your lip. “I know you won’t, uh, undress, but can I see it?” You ask hopefully. If you can’t, you will understand but you are greedy for anything that he can give you.

Din knows he should say no but he can't deny you when you ask so sweetly. He nods, fumbling with his belt to undo it and he works on pulling his aching cock out of his pants. He is throbbing and when he can squeeze himself, he groans in relief.

He’s thick. Your mouth waters at the veiny, heavy length that is weeping from the tip. He’s longer than you imagined too, surprising you because you’ve never seen a cock so beautifully proportioned. “I want to suck it.” You moan, tearing your gaze away to look up at his visor. “Would you let me?”

Din swears he sees the Maker and he nods without hesitation. “If that’s what you want. You can have whatever you want, mesh’la.” He promises with a groan as he continues to finger your dripping pussy.

“Come here.” You shift down, twisting your body so you can reach his utility belt. You don’t want to miss the feeling of his fingers curling inside you, but you want to taste him. “Fuck it’s so big.” You coo, hooking your fingers under his belt to tug him over to you. Clenching down around his fingers as your own wrap around the velvety hardness of his cock for the first time.

He twitches in your grip, groaning your name, and he stops moving his fingers for a moment as you pump him in your soft hand. “Fuck.” He pants, “that’s - it’s so good.” He murmurs, eyes fluttering closed.

It’s almost surreal. You could cum from this alone. The scent that is specifically Mando, Din, envelopes you and beckons you. Making you lunge up and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock.

His stomach clenches, his helmet hitting his chest plate as he looks down at you. “Fuck. Imagined this so many times.” He confesses, “mesh’la. You are - fuck - don’t hurt yourself.” He urges when you choke after you take him deeper.

You pull back slightly, taking a deep breath before you take him back into your mouth. You don’t care if you choke, you want to hear him moan. Your cunt clenching as you start to take him deeper.

Din pants, his mouth dropping open beneath the helmet as he watches you eagerly suck his cock. It's beautiful and your walls flutter around his digits, making him remember to continue fingering you while you suck him off.

Humming around his length, you start to lift your head faster, deep throating him as much as you can before you pull off. You want to take all of him down your throat, especially if this ends up being a one time thing.

Din chokes on his own breath as you take him deep down your throat and he can’t believe this is happening. He hisses your name, his free hand cupping your cheek and sliding down to your throat to feel the way it bulges with his length pushing deep.

You moan around his cock when his hand grips your throat. There have been a few times you’ve imagined that gloved hand there, applying pressure while his cock hammers into you. Your eyes are watering and you can barely roll your hips down to his plunging fingers, you are so engrossed in sucking his cock.

He rubs your clit with his thumb, groaning your name when you gargle around his cock. He grips your throat a little harder and he doesn’t want to cum down to your throat. He caresses your cheek and pulls his cock from your throat. “I want you to cum on my fingers, mesh’la.” He demands, working his fingers in your cunt.

Whining, you close your eyes, nodding as he continues to pump his fingers deep into your walls. “Mando - Din, you are so deep inside me. Your fingers-“ you bite your lip when he pushes against a spot that makes you gasp out. “There!”

He groans, focusing on that spot and he watches you with his chest heaving as you cry out. His thumb works your clit and he keeps pressing against that spot, his cock twitching in your grip.

Your walls start to clench down around him, your eyes flying open when the sensations crash through your body. “Din!” His name spills from your lips as you start to shake apart from the skill of his fingers.

He works you through your orgasm, his cock throbbing at the way your jaw drops and your moan of his band. “Fuck. Mesh’la.” He murmurs in awe, loving how you soak his fingers.

He doesn’t pull away immediately, working you through it until you are completely wrung out. Slumping back against his bed in bliss and reaching down to caress the back of his hand, shivering when you feel how warm and soft his hand is.

Din withdraws his hand from your cunt, immediately wrapping his wet fingers around his cock, starting to pump himself as he observes how wrecked you are. "You are everything I dreamed and more." He murmurs, squeezing his cock.

“Then fuck me.” You beg, wanting to feel him inside you as he groans in pleasure. You want to feel the way he pounds into you and let him relieve all the stresses he has in your body. “I want you, Din.”

He can't deny you. He groans, nodding, and you whimper, watching him jerk his cock. "Hands and knees, cyar'ika." He demands, hissing when you follow his order. Your ass on display and he caresses it with his gloved hand, smacks it as he shuffles closer. "Tell me to stop." He orders, wanting to give you one last chance to stop him because once he has you, he's never letting you go. You will be his.

“Don’t you dare stop.” You push your ass back,  shaking it slightly as you beg for his cock. “If you do, I’ll go find Throck.” You threaten, although you know that would never happen. You wouldn’t be able to let him touch you after Din has. You are marked by him, even if it’s not visible.

Din growls, "I'll kill him if he touches you." He warns and slides the head of his cock through your folds. "You are mine." He grumbles as he starts to push into your tight, wet cunt.

The claim on you is complete, your back blowing as he drives into you. Not stopping until the armor covering his thighs touches the back of yours. You cry out wordlessly and hang your head down between your shoulders.

It's like something overtakes Din and his hands grip your hips, one gloved one not, and he starts to thrust into you. Jaw clenched beneath his helmet as he starts to fuck you in earnest, needing to claim you as his.

All you can do is hold on. Your hands fisting the sheets of his bed and you lean forward, lifting your ass more as you press your face into the bedding. Inhaling more of his scent in the space where he sleeps while you choke out his name. “Din! Fuck- more.” You moan, wanting him to completely destroy you.

Hearing you say that disappoints Din and he will reflect on that later but right now, he's thrusting harder. "Fuck. Need you - need you to cum first." He groans, his bare hand sliding down to rub your clit.

Your body bucks under the pressure of his fingers at your clit, surprised and pleased by him prioritizing your pleasure. “Din!” You gasp out his name again, looking over your shoulder as he rocks into you, his helmet faceless but you clench downs around him. The sight of him behind you as he hammers into you throws you over the edge.

The way you clamp down on his cock has him gasping out your name and he struggles to rock you through it with how tight you're squeezing him. "Mesh'la." He pants, pulling out of you and your whine echoes in his chambers. "I want this to last." He confesses, his cock throbbing with the need to cum but he takes a deep breath, trying to control himself. "On your back." He orders, wanting to see your face.

You flip over eagerly, not minding having this Mandalorian looming above you. He’s still completely covered except for one glove missing. His cock the only other thing you see. It’s wet with your juices and you moan at the sight of him. “Mando.” You reach up and squeeze both of your tits. “Din. Fuck me.”

He grabs your thighs, pushing them back as he shuffles closer until he is pressing back into your fluttering cunt. Your walls are still fluttering and he groans, eyes focused on where his cock disappears into you.

He’s holding onto your legs with an iron grip, his one hand flexing and showing the rippling muscles on the back of it. It’s intoxicating and you want to know what he’s thinking with his helmet tipped down, obviously watching himself fuck you. “So sexy.” You moan. “So strong.”

Din groans as you take everything he gives you. His hips pressing against your ass as he lifts your lower body so he can sink deeper. “Mesh’la.” He murmurs, lost in the feel of you.

You whine, eyes rolling back and you swear is pushing into your womb. “So good.” You gasp out. “So deep.” All you touch is the fabric of his flight suit when you reach down and you moan his name again.

"Touch yourself. Touch your clit. Show me how you touch yourself thinking of me." He demands with a growl on a particularly deep thrust.

You cry out in pleasure, letting go of your breast to reach down. Using two fingers to start rubbing harsh circles on your clit. “Every night on the Crest.” You confess breathlessly. “Everyday since I met you.”

Din twitches violently inside you at your confession and he watches as you rub your clit. “That’s it, cyar’ika. Fuck. I- I jerked off thinking about you. So many times. You don’t even know how beautiful you are. I watch you all the time.” He groans and feels your walls starting to flutter and clamp down on his cock. “Cum for me, mesh’la.” He orders, wanting to see your face when you cum on his cock.

A few more harsh thrusts of his cock sends you flying. Your back arches as you cry out loud enough for it to be heard through the halls of Mandalore. You don’t care though, you can think of nothing but how perfect he feels. “Cum for me!” You beg. “Fill me up, I want to drip your cum.”

Din pants, getting closer and closer to his orgasm. He pushes into your tight cunt, unable to hold back as he tries to work you through your orgasm but he can't hold back. He chokes out your name as he buries his cock deep, pulsing as he starts to fill you with hot spurts of cum.

You’ve heard him groan in annoyance, in pain, in sorrow, but you’ve never heard him groan like this. He sounds like he’s died and he’s reached the Maker, completely wrecked under his helmet. You bite your lip, knowing that he can’t remove his helmet, even if you begged him to. It would be wrong of you to even ask.

He feels like he's out of his body as he rocks into you, slowly to work himself through his orgasm. His helmet rests on his chest and he looks at his cock, shiny and milky with your combined cum, and he swears he sees all the stars of the galaxy.

You relax into bed, trying to catch your breath bit you feel like you’ve just run for miles through the deserts of Tatooine. A smile on your lips, you close your eyes, cunt still pulsing around his cock. “Maker.” You hum. “So that’s what it’s like.”

Din hums, his voice modulated, and he pulls out of you, groaning at the sight of his cum welling up in your pussy. "That's what it's like." He echoes, his eyes flicking up to your wrecked face.

“Nice.” You giggle slightly, but you can barely move, feeling him set your legs down as he shifts to stand at the foot of his bed. Managing to roll over to your side, you curl into his pillow and sigh. “You smell so good.”

Din desperately wants to feel all of you. He strides into the 'fresher, wetting a rag for you and he comes back with it, gently wiping you clean. "Stay there." He orders, tossing the rag into the sink and he walks over to the lights. "Close your eyes." He orders, watching you spread out on the bed.

You close your eyes, wondering what he is doing and then you sense the room going dark. “Din?” You ask, sitting up but you keep your eyes shut. “I’m here.” He tells you, moving around in the dark and you frown slightly, not understanding what is going on.

He strips his beskar with a familiar efficiency and the last item is his helmet. He's anxious to remove it, knowing you could easily betray his trust and turn on the lights but he pushes aside that fear. He loves you. He knows you wouldn't do that. He swallows harshly and unclips the locks, removing his helmet and after setting it down, he slides into the bed beside you. "You can open your eyes. The lights are off." He informs you, his voice unmodulated.

Inhaling sharply, you hear the change. His voice. It’s….clear. “Din.” You cautiously lean back, aware that he has removed his helmet and still you don’t open your eyes. “Is- is that allowed?” You ask softly, aware that he had gone through such a trial to be able to wear his helmet with honor again. Even if the living waters are in the cavern below you, you know how much his Creed means to him.

He chuckles at your tone, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, and he reaches for you, pulling you against his bare body. "It's allowed. It's a...loophole." He says with a smirk, "I wanted to feel all of you. Let you feel all of me."

“Maker.” You gasp, feeling how hot he is as he presses close. Instantly addicted to the feeling, you let him drag you over to him, practically laying on him. “You can do whatever you want with me, Din.” You admit quietly. “I would let you.”

He slides his hand along your back, "I can't give you everything. If I were any other Mando, we could speak our vows here and now and you could see my face. I can't - I don't want to promise you the galaxy and not fulfill my duties because I am duty bound to the kid...to Mandalore. I want to give you what you want but I can only give you this." He murmurs, wanting you to understand.

You try to understand what he is saying but you frown. “I just want to be with you.” You murmur, settling into his side and slowly sliding your own hand across his skin. “I’ve known I will never see your face, and I still lo- uh, wanted you.” You almost said it, but it would be foolish to confess your feelings when the man is literally saying that you can never be more to him than his partner in bed.

He catches what you nearly said and his heart stops. He cups your cheek, wishing he could see your face but he presses his forehead against yours. “I love you, cyar’ika. To me, you are my riduur. Please don’t misunderstand me. I want you. I love you. I’m trying to protect you.”

“What about me wanting to protect you?” You ask softly, leaning into his touch. “I don’t know what you are protecting me from, but I’ve already survived the Empire with you. The dangers of Mandalore. Everything.”

Din swallows harshly, knowing that he could be selfish, take you as his, but it’s hard to stomach that in case something happens to you. He’d never forgive him. “I’m protecting you from me. From the trouble that follows me.”

You snort, your eyes still closed as you shift to lay your head on his chest. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” You scoff. “You’ve always kept me safe, even when it meant putting yourself in danger.” You yawn and sigh. “It’s why I love you. You protect others. Me, the kid. Those that need you.” You smile softly to yourself. “You’re a hero.”

"Sleep, mesh'la." Din orders softly, caressing your spine, and he hears your breath even out after a few moments. 

****

You blink, your body aching, and you smile as you remember what happened last night. You pat the bed and frown when you feel the cold and empty spot. He left. "To your left." Din says, kneeling by the bed.

Your eyes are naturally open, not registering that the lights are on. Or maybe it’s that you assume that Din would be wearing his armor, his helmet back in place. So when you turn your head to the left like he indicates, you are shocked when you see a warm pair of brown eyes staring back at you. “Dank ferik!” You yell, squeezing your eyes shut. “Shit, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!”

Din watches your reaction and he reaches for your hand. “It’s okay, mesh’la. It’s okay.” He promises, “you can look at me.” You take a moment and blink as your eyes adjust until you finally look at him. “Hi.” He murmurs, taking in the sight of your beautiful face without his visor. “I want you to be my riduur. If you want that, repeat after me.” He says softly, squeezing your hand. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

“What does that mean?” You ask, staring at him as if you are memorizing his face. He smiles and you swear your heart stops at how beautiful he is. "We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors." He explains softly, squeezing your hand again. “Mandalorian wedding vows.” Your gasp is followed up by his small chuckle. “I told you that you are mine.” He hums and you swallow harshly. “M-mhi solum-no, uh, solus tome….” You see him nod as you struggle through the lines. “Mhi solus dar’tome.” He reminds you and you quickly repeat, “mhi solus dar’tome.” You bite your lip and he supplies you with the last lines again patiently. “Mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.” You finish, your voice steady as you stare into his eyes.

Din offers you a blinding smile, unable to believe you’re his riduur. “We are now one. We share all. Which means you can see my face. See all of me.” He tells you, “I wanted to give you everything. All of me.” He murmurs, squeezing your hand again.

“What changed your mind?” You ask, your free hand slowly reaching out to caress his cheek. He might not want the touch, so you give him time to pull away. “I would have taken whatever you could give me, even if I give you more than everything that I am.”

Din leans into your touch, "I imagined you with someone else and it killed me. I was stupid. I let my fears rule me and Mandalorians are never scared." He snorts, "but I am terrified to lose you. I love you, riduur. I need you." He confesses softly, letting you see all of me, the parts he conceals behind beskar.

“You have me.” You promise, leaning in and pressing your lips to his gently for your first kiss. His eyes widen, but he doesn’t pull back until you do. “And I’m going to stay with you.”

Din can’t help it, he surges forward to press his lips to yours. He’s sloppy, inexperienced, and he shifts to push you back onto the bed, his naked body covering yours in an effort to feel every inch of you against his bare flesh for the first time.

You groan at the feeling of his skin against yours. “Din.” He’s not the Mand’alor or a Mandalorian right now. Just a man, bare and vulnerable with you. The door to his quarters is locked and no one can interrupt you. Your hands sweep over his shoulder and down his sides, mapping scars from where someone has managed to injure him beneath the Beskar. “I love you.” You moan into his mouth.

Din groans, "I love you too." His hand caresses your neck until he's cupping your breast. "You are so beautiful." He murmurs, "so fucking perfect." His cock starts to harden against your thigh but he's in no rush as he kisses along your jaw.

You groan in bliss, feeling him start to get turned on. “We will raise warriors.” You muse. “Does that mean Mandalorians want kids?” You ask playfully, rolling your hips up to push against his cock.

Din chuckles, “yes, but only when we are ready.” He promises but his cock twitches at the thought of you full of his ad. He kisses down your neck until he’s satisfied that he has kissed every inch and then he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting.

“Din!” You are surprised by his eagerness to use his mouth on you. Reaching down, you start to tangle your fingers into his hair, the strands surprisingly soft and silky. “More, baby, oh maker, that feels so good.”

Your praise has his cock hardening and he loves how you feel under him. His tongue flicks over your nipple before he switches to the other one, taking it into his hot mouth while his hand squeezes the flesh of the one he just abandoned.

You give him complete control, whimpering praises as he pays lavish attention to your body. Worshiping you like you had never imagined he would. You knew he would fuck you good, giving you his cock hard and deep, but this is reverent. “My riduur.” The word is not one you would use, but it must be Mandoa and he groans in response, showing you that he likes it.

Din is eager to please and hearing you address him as your riduur has his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He has time to worship you. The kid is safe with the foundlings and he wants to spend his time tasting every inch of you. He wastes no time kissing down your stomach, eager to hear you moan his name, and he kisses until he is settled between your spread thighs. “Fuck.” He murmurs, eying your cunt and inhaling the heady scent of your arousal before he dives in. His tongue is sloppy and he has no idea what he’s doing except what he’s seen in holovids. He hopes he can please you.

You shiver and jolt in pleasure. Crying out, your fingers twist in his hair and you tug slightly. “Maker!” His tongue is searching and you look down to find his eyes fixed on your face. Watching you as he flicks his tongue and you moan at the sight of him between your thighs. “There.” You praise breathlessly.

Your moan of approval has him lapping at your clit. He loves it. He loves how you taste and he pays attention to your whines and whimpers, wanting to know what feels good to you. His fingers grip your thighs, keeping you steady while he unravels you with his tongue.

His touch starts to become more sure, confident as he licks through your folds. He is smart, almost too smart at times and he is quick to learn what you like most by your moans of approval. “Your tongue is as clever as your fingers.”

He chuckles into your flesh, loving the way you praise him, and he dives back in. He sucks your clit between his lips, closing his eyes as he hums against your flesh.

“Oh fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back as you moan. “Oh fuck, I’m so close.” Your stomach heaves and your thighs start to shake around his ears as he pulls you closer to the edge with every suck of his mouth.

His hands slide down to squeeze your ass, needing to feel you cum on his tongue, and he pushes his tongue deep into your pussy. His nose presses against your clit as he groans into your wet flesh.

That slight change in sensation sends you soaring. Feeling like you are in hyperspace as stars burst behind your eyes, making your vision go white as you cry out his name. “Din!” Your body bucks and twitches as your walls flood with your juices to soak his tongue and chin.

He swears he nearly cums himself then and there when your walls clamp down on his tongue. He groans, working you through it, and he knows he wants to do this over and over again. He’s addicted to how you taste and how you sound.

“You are a quick learner.” You praise breathlessly, giggling as you come down from your high. “That’s better than spice.”

He chuckles, kissing your thigh and he shifts up your body to press his lips to yours. He can’t get enough of kissing you. He loves it. He slides his tongue into your mouth, knowing you can taste yourself, and he loves it.

You hum in approval, slowly kissing him back and reaching down to wrap your hand around his throbbing cock. Starting to stroke him as he rocks into your hand while he keeps kissing you.

“I need to be inside you, riduur. I want to claim you.” He murmurs against your chin and you nod, shifting so you can position his cock at your entrance. He groans and slowly starts to push into you, loving the way you moan his name when he stretches you out again

It feels like he’s pushing so much deeper without the layers of armor and his clothing between you. His skin sliding against yours as he covers your body with his own. “I love you.” You murmur, tilting your head up to kiss his chin.

He groans, pressing his lips to yours as he starts to move inside you. “I love you too, mesh’la.” He murmurs and he starts to move inside you, loving the way you gasp as he stretches you out and he’s addicted. He loves how you feel gripping his cock.

This pace is different from last night. Last night, Mando was claiming your body and right now, Din is claiming your soul. It’s love making, soft and slow as if he has all the time in the galaxy. Lifting your legs, you hook them over his hips and start to move with him, groaning softly in pleasure from the way his cock spears into you.

He pants as you meet his thrust and he kisses every inch of skin he can reach. His hand slides up until it finds yours and he presses your joined hands into the pillow under your head. It’s slow and unhurried, so different to how he lives life. How he has to live life. “Riduur.” He murmurs against your jaw, “I love every part of you.”

“You are so perfect.” You coo, reaching up and caressing his cheek with your free hand. “It is such a shame that you have to hide such perfection behind your beskar.”

Din feels his chest tighten with your words, “I- I don’t know - I never thought I was much to look at.” He confesses, grinding into you and his cock twitching when he pulls back to look into your eyes and he sees the admiration there.

“You are so handsome.” You promise, knowing that you could gaze at him forever. Even if you know that he must put his helmet back on. “I am lucky. I am the only one who gets to see how handsome you are.”

Din offers you a smirk, pleased that you like how he looks, and he leans down to kiss you. “You are beautiful. Always thought it since the moment we met.” He confesses, “in that cantina.” He rocks into you a little faster, wanting to hear and feel you cum for him again.

“I thought I felt you looking at me.” You tease, breathless as he starts to pick up the pace. “Can never tell with that helmet on.”

“Always looking at you.” He promises, “can’t stop.” He squeezes your hand and lets go of it, his grip shifting to your thigh to bring it higher so he can sink deeper into you.

“There.” You whimper softly, eyes rolling back in pleasure. “Right there, Din. Fuck, you have the best cock. I’m gonna cum.”

He grunts, focusing on that spot, and he groans your name as you start to stiffen beneath him. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me.” He murmurs his demand, his dark eyes watching you as he pushes you towards your orgasm.

It doesn’t take long for him to work you up. Pressing inside you against that spot has you seeing stars. Until the last swing of his hips and you scream out his name. “Diiiiiin!”

Your scream of his name has him shaking above you and he hisses at the way you squeeze his cock. He pushes into you, working you through it and the emotions of the day are overwhelming. He can’t hold off like he did last night. It only takes a few more thrusts until Din pushes deep, his cock throbbing as he paints your walls with hot seed and your name is a strangled groan, spilling from his lips.

You caress his sweat sheened face as he collapses on top of you. “I love you, riduur.” You murmur softly. “Until the end of the galaxy .”

Din smiles, nudging your nose with his as he tries to catch his breath. “Until the end of the galaxy.” He promises and sighs, knowing that you will be by his side no matter what. He will protect you with his life. “Let’s get something to eat and then we can get the kid from his sleepover.” Din murmurs and you nod, caressing his back. “That sounds perfect.” Din smiles, rolling over so you are on his chest and he strokes your back, closing his eyes. He has everything he could ever ask for. He just has to fight to keep it now.

[tarre-was-right]

ROUND ONE: MATCH-UP FOUR

Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.

Explanation post

Seeding

Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here!

BOBA FETT

Anon: Boba The Builder, can he do it? Boba The Builder, yes he can!

@spacetime1969: He grew up in the political game that is the criminal underworld and managed to out manuver all the other groups on Tatooine to take control of the planet. That's not something you can pull off without political and tactical skill.

Anon: Boba Fett Propaganda: - Boba Fett was explicitly raised by his father, past Mand'alor Jango Fett, to be the legacy of his own adopted buir, Mand'alor Jaster Mereel; while this training did seem to focus more on the bounty hunting and mercenary aspects of their work, it presumably included many lessons about working with people and negotiating, both of which would come in very handy - Boba is commonly held to be a classic example of a child who grew up in a cultural diaspora, feeling largely disconnected from his Mandalorian roots; given the climate on Mandalore after the Galactic Empire glassed it during the Rebellion Era, his experience is likely representative of many of the surviving Mandalorians, who likely also grew up away from their traditional homeworlds in the sector, possibly even in hiding as in the case of Din Djarin's Covert - speaking of Din Djarin, the strong respect between him and Fett would likely put Fett in good standing with those traditionalists, who would similarly respect Fett's connection to their people as the son of a Foundling, even if he wasn't raised the same way as them - in Legends, Fett's connection with Goran Beviin and his family really brought him more fully back into Mandalorian culture, and in a way that makes a good story to sell to reporters (and readers, breaking the fourth wall a bit there, lol) - finally, Boba DID become Mand'alor in Legends continuity, and one that seemingly enjoyed popular support!

Anon: You know what? Boba Fett was given a bad hand in life. He’s done some bad things. But you know what he’s shown? Drive. Commitment. Determination. Resilience. Willpower. And a shocking refusal to die when he’s gone up against bitches badder than himself. Thats more than some Mandalorian leaders can say for themselves. He keeps going. And it’d be funny. Here IS how Jaster can still win. - Also I think that he would be pretty chill. Cody prolly couldnt be. We’ve seen him rule a city, maybe questionably.. but he was hot doing it. Fennec would probably help him and she’s hot too. Din would prolly be good with it. Cody’s last experience ruling was being involved in the empire and witnessing a horrible execution after negotiating a surrender. He prolly wants nothing to do with it now. And good for him! Let!! Cody!!! Retire!!! This isn’t a popularity contest.

Anon: Boba Fett Propaganda: Boba Fett literally was the Mand’alor in legends, and he did a pretty fine job

COMMANDER CODY

Anon: Propaganda for Commander Cody: - Cody was a student of Alpha-17, who in turn had been personally trained by former Mand'alor Jango Fett, giving him a strong training lineage claim to the title - Cody's service as Marshall Commander in the GAR gave him a lot of the diplomatic, organizational, and military experience needed to govern a planet like Mandalore

@spacetime1969: This man has led more people at once than anyone on this list.

Anon: Cody should be Mand'alor because it would be unspeakably sexy

@cha0s-cat: Cody has experience with negotiating from accompanying Obi-Wan, he leads a massive amount of his brothers already. Can recognize when there is a need for negotiations vs a need for violence. This would balance out the majority of the two factions (pacifists/traditionalists) excluding the extremists on either end. And with the amount of chaos that he has to deal with when it comes to Obi-Wan and Anakin, this would probably be relaxing.

@skykind: - Has resisted facism and its attendant police/military state at great personal risk (Bad Batch 2.3), which is apparently necessary to successfully govern Mandalore so long as Death Watch is fully armed and also backed by someone more cunning than their usual leadership (Clone Wars 5.15). - Possesses exceptional leadership and organizational ability from his time as one of the highest-ranked Clone officers of the GAR. The Clone Wars and Bad Batch narratives furthermore present him as Obi-Wan’s peer, so he should be interpreted as equally skilled, wise, kind, and unhinged-in-battle as Obi-Wan. Jury’s out on the sarcasm. - Turns to diplomacy before fighting (Bad Batch 2.3). - Has caught a Jedi’s lightsaber mid-battle at least two times (Clone Wars 1.20 and Revenge of the Sith). This is a very useful skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who keep chucking the darksaber about. - Has returned a lightsaber to a Jedi at least two times. This is a crucial skill to have as the prospective or current leader of people who should stop selecting said leader via darksaber acquisition.

[maybege]

Lessons Learned

Summary: Someone accuses you of the most horrendous crime possible. Paz makes sure to prove them wrong.

Pairing: alpha!clan leader!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers vibes (but really it is just idiots to lovers), (unfounded) accusations of child harm, fluff, yearning, scenting,

Big shoutout to @mostly-megan who helped me bring this story to life! I am so excited to share more about etl!Paz, it really is one of those AUs that I constantly think about but very rarely do I actually write about it. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it! Please let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog – they are the best things about sharing it with you. Happy Sunday!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Had anyone ever told you that you not only would wed Paz Vizsla, leader of your enemy clan, but you would live a somewhat happy life in the covert, you would not have hesitated to call that person a liar. Yet here you were, living a somewhat solitary but not necessarily unhappy life.

Sure, the mountain halls had needed some getting used to. You missed the sunshine on your face whenever you roamed the hallways, but the tunnels and rooms carved into the mountains kept you nicely cool in the summer and allowed the nature above to grow freely. You had heard from many people, independent of their clan, that the Vizsla territory was well-kept and well-protected. The flora and fauna were thriving and you had never seen so many butterflies as when you spent a few minutes outside.

Sadly, the glimpses you got from nature were through carved windows or courtyards that allowed you to gaze at the colours of the sky. You could not remember when you had simply lain down in a meadow, allowing the sounds of nature to soothe you to sleep. Your guards were quite strict, and though you had a feeling that they would not keep you from going outside, surely, they would report back to your husband and you were not ready to have to justify your comings and goings.

It was a pleasant surprise, then, when Maudii from the foundlings’ nursery asked you if you would like to help out in the classrooms. Teaching little ones was something you knew from your time back home and you enjoyed reading stories to them, teaching them the old legends and helping them improve their reading and writing.  

However, your favourite part by far was when Maudii announced an excursion out of the covert and into nature. The trips to the outside were an absolute success. You got to wander through the meadows, along the edge of the woods, carefully crossing small streams as the children took in everything with big eyes and even bigger grins. You knelt down in the bushes, showing them the difference between the delicious berries you could put in cakes and the ones that were only meant for birds.

Each night, you lay in your little guestroom, tired out from spending the day in the fresh air and sunshine and finally felt like you had found a place where you could belong. Your husband might not love you and your body might betray you whenever you saw him, but finally, you had people in the covert who did not sneer at you whenever you crossed their paths.

Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

“What is going on?” you asked the guard who had suddenly appeared in the midst of your lesson the next morning. Kroks was not a stranger to you. Dieko had introduced him as one of the warriors in training and the young man was always very cordial towards you. Which is why his worried gaze set you on alert.

“Will you come with us, please?” Kroks looked uncomfortable but the guard next to him did not wait for your reply. His grip on your arm came as a surprise and it hurt, the physical pain overshadowed by the betrayal that even after months in this clan, you were still treated like an enemy. Maudii looked on with helpless fear and shock as you passed her, but you knew there was nothing she could do.

The walk to the throne room was not an unfamiliar one but it felt longer than usual now that you were dragged through the hallways like you had committed murder. No one spoke to you, no one told you why you were summoned and you could not help the panic that rose in you. If you were summoned by the guards, it could only mean that Paz knew about it. And what could possibly cause your husband to summon you like a common criminal?

Images flashed in your mind of wars and battles, all of them involving Paz and your family at home. What if your sacrifice had all been for nothing? What if it had not been enough to broker peace between your clans and now you would be the first victim of the new wave of battles?

But even as you thought it, there was a trust in you that Paz would not harm you.

The heavy doors to the throne room were pulled open, and your eyes immediately settled on him. Your husband was sitting on his throne, legs spread, chin resting on his hand and your heart skipped a beat at the memory of how, not too long ago, you had joined him there.

The moment he spotted you was clear because he sat up, back straight and a deep frown on his face. Like he had not expected to see you. That was a good sign, right?

You were not the only ones in the room, of course, and after you finally ripped your eyes away from your husband, you recognised a few council members and some guards standing around the room. Right in front of your husband was a man you did not recognise.

“You interrupted my council meeting with empty accusations and now you drag my wife here,” Paz’s voice boomed through the room, sounding very bored, “Please enlighten us to what end you interrupt my very day, Roalm.”

“I am here because our guest,” Roalm spat out the word, “has committed the most treacherous and spiteful of acts.”

It took you a minute to realise he meant you. You were the guest. You were the one who had committed something so horrible, you had been dragged here to face the consequences. The frown on your face did little to also cover the anxiety that surged up. Your heart beat loudly in your chest and you got nervous.

What did he mean? What had you done? You were more than aware that although you were all Mandalorian, there were differences in your culture that you had not caught up on completely. All in all, though, you got the impression that you hadn’t done something completely stupid. Yet.

“It brings me no pleasure to say this,” Roalm continued gravely before pointing his finger at you, his eyes full of hatred, “She has poisoned the foundlings.”

His accusation sat in the empty room for a moment, the shock following soon after. His words kept echoing in your head as you tried to determine if all this was real or if maybe you were still dreaming. Maybe you were still asleep, curled up in your bed with blankets, and at any moment, you would hear one of Paz’s advisors enter his room, updating him on his daily schedule. Maybe you were close to your heat? You always had the most absurd and scary dreams then.

None of that happened, though, you were still standing on the stone floor, your eyes wide as you watched Paz sit up straighter, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. The guard behind you seemed to understand what had been said earlier than you, because your knees suddenly met the floor as you were pushed to kneel in front of Paz.

“What?” you breathed, wincing through the pain, “No, I – I would never – I haven’t …”

“She's been taking the foundlings out to the fields for weeks now,” the man interrupted you, sounding so sure of himself, “And several of them have said they were being fed berries by her. Poisonous berries! Clearly, she has been sent here by her pack of traitors to cause us the most possible harm. Not only is she infiltrating us by being married to our leader, she is jeopardising our entire future.”

Tears gathered in your eyes. You wanted to be strong. You needed to be strong. But stars, you were so tired. You had done everything to make a good impression, to make sure that you were polite and kind to everyone. And you had been so happy to finally find a place where you could do something. Where you could be happy and useful and –

“I would never …” you sobbed, “I would never harm them. I didn’t harm them. Paz, please,” you looked up, finding your husband’s gaze on you, "Please. Please, believe me.”

Your husband always looked imposing on his throne. It was hard to believe that it had not been too long ago that you had joined him on his lap, letting his fingers explore parts of your body that resulted in ecstasy and now you were kneeling on the floor, teardrops forming a little pool in the grooves of the stone beneath you. Oh, how the mighty could fall.

“You know,” Paz’s voice was cool but it had an edge to it that you could not identify, “One might say that everything my wife does is a reflection of me. Would you suggest that your own clan leader has been conspiring to kill foundlings?”

“N-no, no! Of course not, m’lord. I was merely suggesting. I-it was –“

“Then you had better have proof of such things,” you watched with baited breath as the alpha rose up, towering over everyone in the room, even more so now that you were kneeling, “I hope you’ll be able to back up those claims when me and my guards join the trip tomorrow. Or else you’ll have not only insulted my wife, but you’ll have threatened her well-being. Now, everybody leave.”

*

You had never slept so badly, tossing and turning all night as you tried to give your panicked thoughts a rest. Not even the night before you had snuck out of your clan’s quarters to offer yourself to the scary enemy alpha, you had been this nervous. Maybe because you knew there was nothing keeping you from being killed if people thought you actually poisoned the foundlings.

You frowned, staring at the dark ceiling. None of the foundlings had been sick in the last few weeks (with the exception of one case of a cough which had turned out to be from too much dust in a carpet) and you trusted your abilities enough to know poisonous from edible berries.

Surely, your excursion today would prove your innocence.

Because if it didn’t …

Tears threatened to spill onto your cheeks again.

Hearing Kroks enter Paz’s room, greeting up, felt like a relief then. The day was starting and so was your chance to prove yourself.

You chose your prettiest dress to wear, made of long linen that had been dyed with flower petals. The children loved to find the flowers in the wild that had been used for the colours on your dress and with all the excitement of today, you wanted them to have as much fun as possible.

The sun was shining as your larger-than-usual group finally reached one of the hidden exits of the caves. There was not a cloud in the sky and you were greeted with a cool breeze that rustled the trees and made the meadows look like green oceans. Everyone was in a good mood, chattering happily as you made your way along the edge of the woods.

Well, not everyone.

The only people who were more serious than you were the few council members and guards that Paz had ordered to accompany you. Roalm was one of them.

You tried your hardest to ignore the man as you knelt in the grass, letting the children explore and run around to their heart's content. You had been scared that the unannounced guests on your trip would throw them off, but you should not have worried. The little ones were very happy with the extra attention they got, running this way and that way and picking berries to show the guards which ones were for them and which ones were for the birds.

The council members stayed back but you did not let yourself be tricked by their silence. You knew they were watching every move you made and listening intently to every word that left your mouth. There was no room for mistakes. No room for ambiguity.

Luckily, the children did not share your predicament and instead let themselves be distracted whenever they deemed the lesson too boring.

One of the distractions they found was their clan leader.

You would not have expected Paz to be as relaxed as he was. He let himself be tugged along by tiny hands, climbed on by the toddlers, all with the biggest smile and a deep laugh. You watched in awe as he carried them on his shoulders, making sure they did not fall, even as they hung from his arms with happy squeals.

Paz Vizsla, for all his talks about the importance of foundlings, had not made a particularly child-friendly impression on you. Clearly, you had been wrong.

The sight of him surrounded by the children made your heart flutter and you found yourself able to take one deep breath after another as you and Maudii pointed out new plants to your students. Your eyes met your husband’s on more than one occasion and there was a strange expression on his face, with just the hint of a smile on his mouth.

Maybe everything would turn out to be okay.

*

Lunch was taken on a meadow. No one had arrested you yet, which you counted as a win and when Maudii and some of the guards opened the baskets full of food, you had the first moment of today to just relax.

You were all alone when you sat back against a tree, right underneath the shade, and bit into a delicious berry bread. In front of you, you watched the children play with Paz, their little forms almost hidden by the tall grass as they tried to escape from the “monster”, a role your husband impersonated surprisingly well.

His roars and laughter and were interrupted by the children’s giggles as, one after the other, they were plucked from the ground and put on his shoulders. You could barely see him by the end, with all the children clinging to him as he slowly made his way to where all the adults were waiting. Maudii greeted them with a smile as Kroks helped her distribute the packed lunches the kitchen had prepared for them.

“But we are not done,” Lia pouted, “The monster hasn’t caught us all yet.”

“Of course, I did, little warrior,” Paz laughed as he lifted another kid off his shoulder, “I caught all of you hiding in the grass, didn’t I?”

Lia took a big bite of the bread, her words muffled. “You need to chase her, too,” she pointed to you and you could see Paz’s gaze darken as he followed her arm.

“Um, I don’t know …” you trailed off, highly aware of him now mustering you.

But Paz did not seem to share your worries. Your husband stood up, seeming taller than usual. “C’mon, ‘mega,” he chuckled, putting his helmet on, “It could be fun.”

Chancing a glance at the council members, you realised that no one really was paying attention. And it did sound fun, it certainly sounded like a distraction. Maybe that was exactly what you needed, right now?

You carefully stood up, smoothing a wrinkle out of your dress and looked up to find Paz's face fixed on you. Through the black visor of the helmet, you could not see his eyes, but you knew he was watching you. You could feel it, the tingle in your spine whenever this alpha focused on you.

One tentative step backwards by you was followed by one step from him, following you. The grass was soft under your shoes and the sun was warm on your skin as you left the shade of the tree.

There was something stuck in your throat that made it hard to swallow when he took another step.

Before you could debate your decision, you hurled around and ran.

The children cheered, and you swore you could hear one or two of the guards whoop as you raced around the meadow. You could not remember the last time you had run around freely, much less because you were playing catch. The wind in your hair felt freeing and you could feel a laugh forming in your chest.

However, you weren’t as fast as you thought you were because only seconds later, you could hear thundering footsteps behind you. And they were getting closer.

Paz really was chasing you and although you had simply wanted to indulge the foundlings’ wishes, you could not bring yourself to just … lose. You wanted to make him work for it, maybe even win, and you certainly did not want to put on a weak performance before the council.

Your hands gripped your skirt tighter as you lifted it higher, allowing you to lengthen your strides and you could hear Paz’s puffs of air as he ran behind you. Chasing you. Hunting you.

A shiver ran down your spine as you tried to ignore how your body reacted to him. Panic and something thrilling coursed through you when you could feel him at your back. The anticipation made your pussy pulse which had nothing to do with the fact that it was your husband behind you. Nothing at all.

There was a brush of fingers on your back and your heart lurched.

I’m not ready to go back, your head screamed, I’m not done yet.

And so, you did the only sensible thing: You stopped suddenly before sprinting to the sharp left, right into the woods.

Paz’s chuckle behind you made you feel all sorts of things (most of them which you tried to ignore because, again, your husband had no effect on you, whatsoever).

“You’re really making me work for it, huh?” he called behind you as you twisted around the trees, the trunks getting thicker the more you ventured into the forest.

Your response was only a laugh, jumping over a little stream that Paz must have just stomped through from the sounds of it. If you could just stay in this moment forever, maybe then everything would be alright. The kids would be safe and so would you because even if the council decided against you, there was no way they would find you here in the midst of –

“Oof!”

All the air left your lungs as you crashed against a tree trunk. You waited for it to hurt but nothing followed the slight discomfort of your sudden stop. Your back was against the tree but there was something between your head and the wood. His hand.

Paz had cushioned your crash, crowding you in with no means of escape while also cradling you to him like you were the most precious thing in the world. His body was huge, shielding you from your surroundings but instead of intimidating you, all you felt was safe.

Like this had been the goal of your run all along.

“Got you,” he rumbled and you watched as his chest rose and fell evenly. He wasn’t even out of breath, that bastard.

“And now?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He tilted his head and you hoped he would not ask you to elaborate. You didn’t want to admit that you like being this close, that you wanted to stay like this for as long as he would allow. The embarrassment would kill you, surely.

But then he tilted his head the other way and you realised he was listening for something.

When he heard (or didn’t hear?) what he wanted, you watched with baited breath as he leant back, putting an unacceptable amount of distance between the two of you, and lifted his helmet.

You knew what your husband looked like. You always had. For the longest time, you had convinced yourself that he was as ugly as your family had made him out to be. That his evil personality translated into an appearance that made him just as repulsive.

But now that you had spent time with him, that you endured his teaching and his cocky self-assurance and witness his joy with his friends and the foundlings and had him touch you – intimately – in ways no one ever had, you had to admit: Your husband was the most handsome man you knew. Inside and out.

(He was still annoyingly cocky, though.)

Watching his face be revealed to you once again, made your heart switch to an unusual pitter-patter, skipping every second beat and pumping so string, it almost hurt. The lines on his face, the crease between his brows, the crinkles next to his eyes, it all made your pulse run faster. And then he smiled at you, so softly, you were done for.

“Seems like I caught my prize,” he rumbled, his nose brushing against yours, “Wonder what I’ll do with her.”

“Oh,” you gasped, shifting against the tree, your hips bumping against his. His scent washed over you and you wished he hadn’t worn his full training get-up. You wished he had worn the soft pants he had worn that night, the ones you had been able to feel his hard flesh through.

Your husband seemed to be just as unhappy with your position because his helmet landed on the ground, cushioned by the grass, and his hands grabbed yours, lifting them above your head.

“Stay still and let me scent you,” he rumbled, one hand closing around both of your wrists, the other landing on your hip. His touch was hot, making you squirm even more. When his nose brushed over your scent gland, coating you in the smell of pines and smoke, you had a whole-body shiver. The kind that made you very aware of how wet your underwear was getting.

“Paz,” you gasped, tilting your head back so he had more access.

The only response you got was a growl. His hand around yours tightened and then his mouth opened against your neck and he sucked.

Was it possible to come from just this?

You wanted to touch him, you wanted to be closer to him, but his grip on you was steadfast, only letting you move however he wanted you to.

“You smell afraid, omega,” he praised you, the tip of his nose brushing all the way up to you just under your ear, “Am I scaring you?”

“No!” you protested quickly, eyes widening with fear that you had just pushed him away, “I’m not – not of you, I promise!”

“Shh,” he calmed you, dark eyes looking at you so warmly, “I know the only person you’d ever want to kill is me, love”, he whispered against your neck, “You’d never hurt any of the children and I believe you.”

You hadn’t realised how high-strung you were until his words registered in your head. Paz believed you. He had never doubted you. Even if everything went horribly wrong now, he was the one person in your corner whom you could trust.

The knowledge that he believed you lifted a weight off your shoulders you had not quite realised you were carrying. But now that it was gone, you could feel the fear and panic of the last 24 hours crashing over you.

“Oh, ‘mega,” he breathed as your body started to shake with tears. Paz did not loosen his grip. He stepped even closer, his front completely pressed against yours until he was close enough that you could tuck your head into the crook of his neck.

His hold on your hands went away and seconds later, he had you wrapped up in his arms, holding you while you sobbed into his neck.

“I didn’t do it,” you whimpered, “And I – I don’t understand what else I need to do to get them to trust me. I – they’re kids, Paz! I’d never hurt the kids.”

“I know,” he rumbled, “Let it all out, love. You’d never hurt anyone, I know. We’re proving him wrong today, you’ll see.”

“I’m just so tired of it,” you admitted, feeling your chest calm down, “I’m so tired of having to prove myself and no one believing me.”

Paz started moving and you realised he was slowly swaying you back and forth. “I believe you.”

And in that moment, it was enough.

*

This time, when you were called to the throne room, you felt hopeful.

Paz was sitting back on his throne, dressed in more casual clothes, and you could feel your cheeks warm at the heat in his gaze.

“Omega,” he greeted you, his voice filled with fondness that made your heart clench, “I called you here to convene with the council before Roalm comes in.”

You looked up, realising he had spoken true. The only people here were the council members who had accompanied you on your trip and Paz.

“Do,” you swallowed and shifted your feet, “Do you want me to defend myself now?”

“I see no reason for you to defend yourself,” Dieko said, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “The children seemed to have fun and were quick to identify which berries were good and which ones weren’t.”

“And when they were unsure, they approached you or Maudii to consult,” another one added, “And received the correct answer. You did a good job at teaching them, m’lady, and I am sure I am not the only one who would support our foundlings to have more trips to our lands.”

It was one thing to know that you would not be in danger of execution from the council; it was another to actually be praised by them. You were so stunned, all you could do was look at him, trying to find words of gratitude.

“C’mere, omega,” Paz called and you turned around, “I want you here for this.”

His hands rested on his thick thighs and you hoped no one noticed how nervous his request made you. Sitting on his lap wasn’t that extraordinary for them. You had learned from Maudii that that was how previous leaders had held court in this clan.

For you, it felt oddly intimate.

“This is less fun than the last time we sat like this,” he joked quietly as he helped you settle on his lap. Your ears burned at the memory of how his fingers felt inside you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, hush,” you hissed and he chuckled, his big arm wrapping round your back until you sat sideways on him. It was so much easier to focus on him than on the rest of the room.

“Let me tease you, love,” he rumbled, his nose brushing over your jaw, “It’s my favourite part of the day.”

You were about to retort something very smart, you were sure of it, when the doors opened and you were faced with Roalm. He looked worse for wear than the first time you had seen him in this room but his presence still made you tense, your spine stiffening until Paz’s nose was on your neck again.

“Oh,” you breathed, pines and smoke filling your nostrils, “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, love,” his mouth moved against your sensitive skin, “Anything to keep you calm and happy, hm?”

You ignore the flutter in your heart in favour of melting against him, fully relaxing against his chest and letting yourself be encompassed by his scent.

“M’lord Vizsla,” Roalm started, his voice wavering as his eyes darted between you and your husband and the guards surrounding him, “I am so –“

“Since you did not give my wife the benefit of speaking in her defence, I will return the favour,” Paz’s voice cut through the hall and you flinched in surprise. Where did all that anger come from?

Your hand settled on his chest and you could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady. But there was something sharp and acid tickling your nostrils and you swallowed. Paz wasn’t only angry. He was furious. And all of this on your behalf.

“Did you see my wife poisoning the children?”

“Uh … well, not exactly, but that doesn’t mean –“

“Did any of the children feel unwell?”

“No, but …”

Paz’s hand squeezed your hip gently and you heard his sharp inhale, breathing you in. “So, you mean to tell me that my wife has been trying to murder innocent lives without having seen anything, without having any proof and even after seeing how beloved she is by them?”

“I am so sorry,” Roalm whimpered, cowering before you. You knew he must be scared. Stars, you would be, too, if Paz were this furious with you. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel sorry for the man who had accused you of the most heinous crime.

“It’s too late for apologies,” Paz hissed, “You implied my wife deserved to be executed for her crimes. Do you think you deserve that same fate?”

Your head whipped around, seeking your husband’s gaze. You were angry, yes, and you were not ready to forgive him yet. But did you want him to die in your name? No. You didn’t want anyone to die because of this.

Paz met your gaze, his frown softening. “He’ll be unharmed, my love,” he whispered, quiet enough for only you to hear, “But he will regret the day he dared to put you in danger.”

The determination in his voice made your heart sing and you turned around just in time to see Paz motion for the guards. “A few days in a cell should give you enough time to think about the consequences of your actions,” he announced, “Now leave my sight.”

Roalm’s wailing lasted only for a few seconds before the heavy doors closed behind him and the guards and suddenly everything returned to its usual business. People filtered through the doors, talking in small groups and you could see a few of the guards leave while the rest took their posts by the entrances.

Everyone acted like nothing happened at all but you could not bring yourself to it.

“Can … Can I stay here for a while?” you asked, not trusting yourself to look at Paz to face his rejection, “Just for a bit?”

His response was immediate. His hands pulled you even tighter to him and you could feel him shift in his seat until your head could comfortably lie against his chest. The way your body relaxed into him was not lost on you.

“You can stay here however long you wish to,” his fingers gently circled your scent gland, “And you can return tomorrow, too, if you like.”

*

“I want you in my bed tonight.”

The announcement came after dinner when you both had retired to your rooms. You were sitting on your bed, trying to subtly arrange the many blankets into a nest, discreetly sneaking your dress in there as well. Only because it was soft, of course, and not because his scent still clung to it.

You squeaked at his appearance in your doorframe. Paz usually spent his evenings in the parlour, sitting by the fire and reading notes before going to bed in the bedroom that was meant for the two of you.

Ever since you had married, Paz had made it clear he wouldn’t force himself on you. But maybe after the excitement of the day, he had changed his mind? Maybe his protecting you was bound to some sort of expectation that you now had to fulfil?

The fear on your face must have been obvious because the grin he sent you made your knees weak. “Not for any marital duties,” he winked, “Though I’m not opposed to it if you decide you want to know what a knot feels like.”

Do not think about taking his knot. Do not think about what taking his knot would feel like. Do not think about how he would praise you for taking his knot.

“Why then?” you asked, hands folded in your lap as you avoided his gaze, “Why do you want me … with you?”

Silence followed and you prayed to the stars that he could not smell how wet you were for him.

“I need to know you are safe,” he said, finally, “I would sleep better when you are close by.”

You would never admit it but it was the first time someone had voiced genuine concern for your well-being. The thought of it made your heart ache. After all, you had lived your entire life trying to serve your family’s – your clan’s – best intentions and all it got you was their rejection and life in a covert that you had been taught was enemy territory.

It was easy, then, to follow him back to his bedroom and carefully settle on one side of the giant bed while Paz settled on the other.

Despite its size, it did not take long until you reached your hand to the side and found him under the blankets.

“You probably need to visit the foundlings more often after today,” you said, a smile on your lips as you remembered how they had used him as a playground, “they really enjoyed themselves.”

“And did you?”

You turned to the side, finding him already looking at you. There was something so gentle about seeing him in the dim light of the embers, the lines on his face all smoothed over, the thin sheet pulled up only to his waist. “I did, too,” you confirmed, feeling out of breath for no reason at all, as you looked over his broad chest, “Although the thing you said today …”

“Which one?” he enquired, his hand reaching out to pull you closer. A warm feeling started in your chest when you cuddled up against him, his large hand swooping up and down your back, “I say many things when the day is long.”

You smiled. “You said, uh, you said that you know the only person I’d want to kill in the covert is you,” you recalled, rubbing your feet together for warmth, “Do you really think that?”

“Is it not true?”

The casualness with which he said it broke your heart. Did he really think you thought so little of him? Had the past few months not affected him at all, so he thought they hadn’t affected you either?

“I wouldn’t want to kill you,” you said firmly, needing him to hear you. “Maybe there was a time when the thought brought me comfort but it’s been a long time since then. I … feel comfortable here. With you and the foundlings and Kroks and Maudii.”

Hu hummed in acknowledgement and in a matter of seconds, you went from feeling like you needed to share your feelings to feeling like you had overshared once again. Paz may not be interested in you in that way … Were you even interested in him in that way?

The answer to that was clear.

“Can I scent you?”

“Yes.”

He rolled you around so he was on top of you, his eyes serious. Just like in the forest, his hand found your wrists, pinning them into the soft mattress. Your foreheads rested against one another and your breaths mingled-

His eyes searched for something and you wondered what it was, wondered if you could give it to him.

“I need you to know, little wife,” he murmured, his thumb brushing steadily over the scent glands on your wrists, “Everything I do these days is so you feel safe and comfortable. If I can’t offer you that,” you watched his throat bob, “Then maybe I do deserve to killed by you.”

Your brows furrowed in protest. Trying to free your hands was futile because his grip was so tight, so you did the only thing you could. You lifted your face up, right to his jaw and started scenting him. The shudder that went through his body made you smile and you continued, brushing your nose to the point right behind his ear.

His entire weight was resting on you now, making moving impossible but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to move anyway. You wanted to stay here and breathe him in – the familiar scent of pines and smoke making you feel at ease.

“I am right where I want to be,” you admitted into the quiet of the night, your eyes drooping closed, “And I want to be here with you, alpha.”

[bitchface24-7]

HELLO POOKIE WOOKIE SMOOKIE 💕💕

I love your Viktor x reader fics so much, like genuinely you write him so in character it has me giggling and kicking my feet. This is like a weirdly obscure req but it’s been clawing away at my brain

I saw one fanart of an arcane x starwars AU and I LOST MY FUCKING MIND. Hear me out, evil sith Viktor being manipulated by Silco is a plotline I didn’t know I needed in my life…

I’m so open to hear any of your thoughts or takes on him, just general headcannons or a full fic if you so desire. But I have an idea for Viktor x Jedi! Reader OR assassin! Reader

It could either be that reader is a hired gun for the sith that he specifically employed to be a rat for the rebellion. (What if their double crossing him behind his back and feeding him false information that soils his plans??? Or plotting a mutiny???? AUGH)

Also another idea is friends(lovers?) to enemies to lovers, maybe they knew eachother when they where foundlings and when Viktor went to the dark side they separated, do what you will with that plotline.

Either way I think having a very smart/clever morally grey reader would be such a delicious dynamic.

Sorry I wrote you a whole novel, anyways I love your writing peace out girly 🤞🤞🤞

YOUR FALLEN ANGEL - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you and Viktor have been as thick as thieves for as long as you can remember, metaphorically and literally. After being saved from the slave trade on Tatooine from two Jedi masters who felt incredible amounts of midichlorians in both of your blood. They train you in the ways of the force. But Viktor has always been passionate, and that became his downfall.

warnings: general descriptions of violence, the darker side of the Jedi’s mentioned, manipulation, desperation, morally grey reader, I'm low-key ripping off episodes I-III in this, Grammarly as my beta ADDITION: tried my best at GN smut, y'all are virgins so… it’s vanilla, oral (m and reader receiving), talks of fantasies, unsafe sex, creampie

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. I love Star Wars. I've loved this franchise ever since I was little, the last of the series (EP VII-IX) wasn't the best. They had good ideas but executed them poorly imo. Hopefully y'all like my little twist to it. Essentially I've stolen bits and pieces of Anakin x Padme for this to work.

Going from slaves to padawans was a massive shift in your life. You never thought you'd end up here, free.

Well, as free as can be as a Jedi in training. You remember reciting the code as a young child,

“There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony.”

You can understand the code— to a certain extent. Humans are not meant to be emotionless, it's physically impossible. Unlike our droid friends, we are unable to turn off our emotions. They’re with us from the day we’re born, and they’ll be with us till the day we die.

Viktor has always pushed the boundaries. His master, Obi-Wan Kenobi tries his best to negate him; very rarely does he succeed. Your own master, Mace Windu isn’t the biggest fan of your oldest and closest friend. You ignore him. Same with the other members of the Jedi Order.

Too passionate is what everyone says. Every so often Master Yoda will take you off to the side and regale the Sith Code like a mantra in his odd speaking habits. As if he’s trying to convince you— warn you about something that’ll never happen.

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”

Both creeds have their upsides and downsides. Their truths and incomprehensible impossibilities. But as the days go on, as you mature from Padawan to full fledge Jedi, you see a shift in Viktor.

It's so small it's barely even noticeable, but you know him better than you know yourself. And he's started changing ever since that slimy councillor has been around him.

Councillor Silco.

You're not a fan of any of the councillors, but Councillor Silco is the worst of the bunch. Full of lies and deceit. You can taste it whenever he gets too close. His predecessor Councillor Palpatine is even more horrendous.

You're not sure as to why Viktor can't.

It isn't until they've sunk their claws fully into Viktor do you see the truth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You're not sure what happened. One second your Master is fighting Councillor Silco, the next Viktor has taken you down, a nasty slash on your waist, your Master is dead, and Viktor is helping the man who killed him.

A crack forms in your heart at the betrayal. You want to scream, cry, and sob inconsolably at the pain you're feeling. But there's not just pain there, there is also anger.

Hatred.

You look up at the duo and grit your teeth, your jaw painfully clenched. That's when Councillor Silco desperately reaches for his neck as he sputters.

He's choking on nothing, and you're the cause of it.

After a moment, he's let go. You feel a bit of horrified justification at your actions. He’s killed your Master, manipulated your friend, and taken what you hold most dear.

You don't feel sorry.

And that’s what scares you.

Viktor looks shocked, his eyes wide as he stares at you. Councillor Silco is trying to catch his breath, but he looks immensely satisfied.

“Looks like there is still hope for you yet.”

And with that, the two men leave; and one of them takes your heart with him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You rush to Obi-Wan and Yoda to tell them what has transpired. The death of Mace, the betrayal and secret mole in Councillor Silco, and the manipulation Viktor has been put under.

The two men look warily at one another at the last point. Your frustration boils over at their secrecy.

“What?!” You question. Your tone is sharp, angry. The two Master’s look to you in shock. You've never raised your voice, not since you became a student here at the temple. Yet here you are, your emotions guiding your actions.

The way of the Sith.

Yoda hums and Obi-Wan placates you, “My dear, you must control yourself. We’ve already lost one bright soul— we’d be crushed to lose another.”

And in that moment it hits you. They’re not going to save Viktor— they’re not even going to try! He’s already deemed a lost cause, a failure to the order. Not to you. Never to you.

You two promised you’d escape Tatooine and live long, happy lives together. You’re already halfway there.

You just need to save Viktor from himself.

And kill the people responsible for corrupting him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After that, you resign from the Order. They’re shocked, expectedly so. You and Viktor were their strongest Padawan, now their strongest Jedi. They’ve lost one to the dark.

They lost the other to their negligence.

Obi-Wan, Yoda, and the rest of the Jedi Council try their best to dissuade you. None of them succeed.

You know that they will control your actions as long as you are within their walls. So you leave, and you leave behind your green lightsaber.

You feel as if you’ve outgrown this one. Another kyber crystal is calling for you, you can feel it.

With that, you leave the one place you felt like was yours. All in the name of love.

You truly are a horrible Jedi.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It takes weeks of excavation, but you eventually find the crystal that’s been singing your name, calling for you, and begging you for a chance.

It’s beautiful.

Even more beautiful than your previous crystal. You’ve collected all the required components to re-build your saber, now you just need to actually build the damn thing.

You place all the pieces down and mediate. Letting the force run through you like a calm river, you subconsciously feel your saber being made. When you open your eyes, you hold back a soft gasp.

It’s wonderful. A beautiful steel handle with fine markings and it’s perfectly balanced. You ignite the saber and try not to cry. It’s purple.

Just like your Master’s.

With your resolved hardened and new saber in hand, you continue on your self-imposed quest to save Viktor.

And save him you will.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was shockingly easy to find them. After months of tracking, tracing, and pulling every move of stealth you know, you've finally done it.

You asked around, used some mind-tricks on unwilling citizens, and interrogated others in a way that’d make the Jedi ashamed of you.

Good thing you’re no Jedi.

Viktor and Silco are in the councillors building, in Silco’s private room. You casually make your way there, your black cloak billowing ominously.

Before anything else can happen, you slam the door open with the force and ignite your lightsaber.

Someone is going to die today, and it isn’t you.

The two men look shocked at your arrival. Instead of dawning your usual white and beige outfit, a green saber in hand, you wear more dark colours. Black, brown, and hints of beige encapsulate your figure, a purple saber replacing your old one.

There’s an angry look in your eye that the two men only saw once, and it almost caused Silco’s death.

Seems like you’re back to finish the job.

Before you can swing at Silco, Viktor protects him. His yellow saber gone. In place is now a red one.

You want to cry. His old saber matched his eyes perfectly. You always mentioned it every time you two trained together. Now it’s gone. He’s changed just as much as you have.

The fight is intense, brutal in all honesty. The sweet face Viktor used to have is gone. Now it’s even more sharp, and his eyes have an orange— almost red tint to them. The pure gold now gone as well.

The eyes of a Sith.

You slash each other, block, dodge, kick, scream, taunt. A violent dance of passion and contempt, with hints of underlying tension.

Lust.

The Jedi Masters were always worried the two of you would pursue a relationship, even though those temptations were strictly forbidden.

But who doesn't crave forbidden fruit?

Now, you both are free of said rules. It's just you two, in a world unfamiliar to you.

Your lightsabers are clashed together. Purple sparking off of red, as you two sneer at one another.

Viktor's canines are sharp as he scowls at you. It reminds you of a fearsome feline. His eyes are narrowed and he pushes against you relentlessly.

You're no better. You can feel your lips pulled back against your teeth as you snarl deep in your chest. The muscles in your neck pulsing as you fight back against the man you love.

A small twirl disengages your clash and you slam Viktor into the wall with the force, pining him down.

You turn your attention to Silco, who's just been sitting there enjoying the two of you trashing his office. You take your free hand not holding your lightsaber and cup it in the air, imitating a choke hold.

Silco goes flying into the air and stills, choking in place viciously. You can hear Viktor yelling at you but it's muffled. All you see is the man who took your best friend from you, and you're getting your vengeance.

You squeeze harder and Silco slams into your waiting palm, a slightly scared look on his face. You look deep into his eyes and enter his mind without consent.

Flashes of memories assault you. Plans, manipulations, grooming, betrayal. One conversation piques your interest. The grandest plan Councillor Silco and Palpatine have.

They call it Order 66.

You feel like vomiting. You hold in all your disgust and revulsion as you pull away from Silco’s mind— ensuring you have all the information you need to prove both of the councillor's guilt.

A glare is all Silco gets before his neck snaps like a twig in your grasp. Viktor’s shout of shock returns you back to your senses, and you drop Silco's body like a rag doll.

Viktor is still pinned to the wall, but he's no longer fighting it. He sits still, stunned. His mouth is lightly agape as he looks at you, his eyes wide and dark. There's a bulge in his pants.

You quirk an eyebrow and Viktor looks away in shame. But he's still that defiant boy you grew up with, and quickly whips his head back to look at you.

“Why did you kill him?! The Jedi are horrible, I just wanted to protect you— why did you kill him?!” His voice gets louder with each sentence, his accent sharp and his tone desperate.

The force hold on him disappears and Viktor slumps against the wall, defeated. You sit next to him.

“Because he lied and manipulated you. He took you from me. The Jedi weren't going to help you, so I did it myself.”

Viktor looks shocked, the orangey-red tint slowly dissipating in his eyes, their original golden hue shining through, “You— what? You went against the Jedi?”

A scoff escapes you against your will, “I left the Jedi Order.”

“When?!”

“The day you left.”

The silence between you is deafening. Viktor looks shocked, a violent blush is seen across his cheekbones and ears. He swallows deeply before asking, “That... That was months ago! Why?!”

You shrug, “Because you left. The Jedi weren't going to help, and I've always known they weren't the best. Taking children away from their families when they're babies, indoctrinating them into the Order, their silly rules. The Sith aren't any better either.”

Viktor now looks curious, he gazes at you deeply and you feel like coughing. He's always been so… incredibly handsome. Now, with his full focus on you, you can't help but recognize that.

“So I've come up with my own code.”

The man next to you smiles, a chuckle leaving his throat, it’s one of the sexiest things you've ever heard, “Tell me? You always used to complain about the code when we were Padawans. I had to make you stop talking so many times before a Master heard you.”

You sigh contently and rest your head in Viktor’s shoulder, the black leather of his outfit cooling your heated cheek,

“There must be both dark and light. I will do what I must to keep the balance, as the balance is what holds all life. There is no good without evil, but evil must not be allowed to flourish. There is passion, yet peace; serenity, yet emotion; chaos, yet order. I am a wielder of the flame; a champion of balance. I am a guardian of life. I am a Gray Jedi.”

Viktor looks at you and huffs, “A Grey Jedi? Really?”

You snort at his tone and lightly hit his chest, “I came up with the concept like a week ago, leave me alone.” The two of you laugh before a peaceful, comfortable silence envelops you two. You enjoy it immensely before ruining it, “Why did you leave?”

The shoulder you're leaning on stiffens, and for a second you think Viktor isn't going to answer, but he does, “I already told you, I just wanted to protect you. I was getting horrible nightmares— Visions about your death. I couldn't handle it. Silco told me he knew a way to prevent it, and I accepted whole heartedly. Without thinking of the consequences.”

You hum, “It was a trick you know? Silco and Palpatine placed those images in your head using the force. They wanted a strong Sith Lord, powerful in the force, to mock the downfall of the Jedi Order.”

“The downfall—?”

“Palpatine put chips in the clone’s heads, with a special order called “Order 66”, it’s meant to overtake the clone's will and eradicate any Jedi in the clone's path. Doesn't matter if they're a Master, a Padawan, or a Youngling.”

Viktor’s sharp inhale is all you need to know. He didn't know.

“And— and there's proof?”

You nod, slowly getting up and going over to Silco’s desk, inputting the password, and taking all the necessary documents and voice pads.

“We’ll anonymously submit these findings to the Council and the Jedi Order. They can deal with all this shit. They can help the clones. I’m done.”

Viktor slowly gets up as well and walks over to you, “And, what will we be doing?”

You surge forward kissing Viktor passionately. The beautiful man gasps, and you use that to your advantage to add tongue to the kiss.

You may not have much physical experience, but you do have experience in reading dirty novels and touching yourself secretly.

The kiss eventually breaks and Viktor looks shocked and pleased, “We’re going to Naboo, and you're going to fuck me. I've always wanted to go there and I've always wanted you.”

VIktor chokes as you take his hand, step over Silco’s body, and exit the office.

He never expected this. But he’s not complaining.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There's an uproar at the Council and the Jedi Order. Palpatine is charged and executed for crimes against the Council and the Order. The Clones are healed and clear of any signs of the chip's potential betrayal.

The two of you don't know this though. You're too busy at Naboo, finally getting what you've always wanted.

Each other.

Your kisses are sloppy, passionate, and desperate. All of the emotions bottled up from your time at the Jedi Order overflowing and finally seeing the light of day.

Your garbs are removed quickly, the tunics, the pants, the tops, the boots. All that's left are your undergarments. You push Viktor onto the bed, and slowly crawl your way up towards him. His large bulge taunting you.

A small nod is all you get before your fingers hook into Viktor's undergarments and his cock springs free. Hard, leaking, and beautiful. Just like him.

You wrap your hand around the shaft and Viktor hisses in pleasure, his eyes half-lidded as he looks down at you. His face is flushed, his lips are plump and red, and his long hair is a mess. Pieces of brown and blond hair stick to his forehead, and fan across his shoulder wonderfully. God. You could stare at him all day.

"Y'know..." You start slyly, your hand slowly pumping up and down. You remove your hand and lightly spit into it before pumping him again, the slide much smoother this time, "I would fantasize about this."

The groan that escapes Viktor is animalistic. Needy. He bites his lower lip as his lower abdomen clenches in excitement, "Really? Oh do continue."

You hum sarcastically, "Yup. I'd sneak in dirty books from the market and read them late into the night. I'd picture I was the main character and that you were the love interest. I'd touch myself almost every night to the filthy words on the page. Imagining it was you and me."

The tip of Viktor's cock enters your mouth and his back bows at the intense feeling. Your confession, the warmth of your mouth, the glint in your eyes. Viktor isn't sure he can survive this.

His hands fly to grasp your hair desperately as he gasps in pleasure. Moans and whimpers escape him-- alongside chopped up variations of your name.

This goes on for several minutes before the pitch in Viktor's voice heightens, and he's trying to pull your lips off his cock, "I'm going to cum! Wait! Not yet! Not until you--" A low groan escapes him when you shove your head down to the base of his cock, his brown curls tickling your nose. He cums straight down your throat.

He whimpers as you slowly pull off his cock, a self satisfied smirk on your lips. Viktor just lays there, panting.

"You asshole. I wanted to cum with you. Now I can't."

You can't help but giggle at Viktor's petulant tone, you crawl up his body kissing a trail as you go before plopping a sweet kiss on his plump lips, "You still can. Don't tell me you won't get hard again fingering me open to stuff me full of your cock?"

Viktor's eyes widen at your crude language before laughing himself, "Wow. You truly weren't lying about those filthy books." You take your undergarments off and Viktor just looks in awe at you. You're so gorgeous, he's the luckiest man in the galaxy.

He takes his time with you. Sucking hickey's into your neck, abusing your chest, appreciating your abdomen and waist, squeezing your hips and ass. He eventually makes his way to your hole, and he licks it. You buck up in shock and gasp. The feeling electric. He continues to lick, exploring as much as he can. Your moans get breathier and breathier at the assault, until the pulls away.

"Give me the lube on the side table."

You follow his order without question. Viktor pops open the cap and puts some lube on his fingers, before going back to eating you out. He slowly puts a finger inside as he continues to lick at you. This feels amazing, it's better than all your dirty books and fantasies combined.

Eventually three fingers are pumping in and out of you as you whine for something bigger.

And something bigger you get.

He's stretching you, filling you up to the brim. Even with all the preparation, all the lube, it still wasn't enough. Then Viktor pumps his hips, and it's game over.

All you can do is moan as Viktor's massive cock hits all your sensitive spots. The two of you engage in a passionate kiss as you moan into each other's mouths. You rub your sensitive bundle in tune with Viktor's thrusts, and before you know it. You're cumming.

All his foreplay really paid off. All you can see are stars clouding your vision as you enter nirvana. Viktor continues to pump his hips, desperate for his second orgasm. In a few minutes, he get's his release, and cums deep inside you.

He plops down, laying on top of you as he pants in exertion. You run one hand through his long hair as the other trails random shapes on his back. His cock shrinks a bit, maybe an inch or two and it pops out of your hole, his creampie following suit.

The two of you lay in bliss. You never though you'd get here, the Jedi forbidding it and the Sith manipulating your lovers mind.

But you're here now, and that's all that matters. The two of yo share one final kiss before sleep overtakes you. You're in each others arms, stuck together like glue. As it should be.

As it will be until the end of time.

Before the two of you fully fall asleep, you both say the three words you’ve always wanted to hear from one another ever since you were young.

“I love you.”

Y'all I don't know what happened. I saw this request, blacked out, and this is the result. If you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, no you didn't and blame Grammarly. Idk if this is the vibe you're doing for dear requester bur tbus is what my mind came up with. Xoxo hope ya enjoyed it! ❤️

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty eight : a place for us

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ☆ main masterlist ✧

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

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 8.4k

summary : the not so secret happily ever after.

warnings: language, fluff, mild angst, pregnancy, smut, din has a lot of insecurities, they're having a couple of problems but the biggest one is lack of communication, breeding kink, pregnancy sex, oral f!recieving, p in v sex, masturbation, creampie, come eating, din comes really fast but it's sweet, nongraphic childbirth, domestic bliss, ro making things up about star wars lore

a/n: this is it my loves, i truly hope that this is the ending people wanted. i'm extremely happy with it and i'm extremely emotional so im gonna go sit down lmao.

☆

You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him. 

Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on. 

You haven’t had sex. 

Not since everything happened. 

You’ve tried, a few times but it never seemed right, you always asked if you could stop, opting to just lay together instead. You were making yourself sick with worry that he was unsatisfied so you took a day off from the meetings and the royal duties to just stay in the cabin and watch him work. 

You just want to do something nice for him. 

He does everything. 

He cooks your meals, he rubs your feet, he spends his entire day working, he’s nearly tripling the cabin in size, and he does it all on one leg. 

Well, not technically on one leg, he has the prosthetic but still. He hobbles with no complaints around the house and all you do is sit all day in the castle, talking. 

So you try. All day. 

Until the two of you are getting ready for bed.  

“Come on. Seriously, I'm fine.” You put your hands on his shoulders as he got into bed beside you. 

“Stop trying to seduce me.” He kisses your temple, rolling you onto your side as he fills in the space behind you. “You don’t need to force it.” He lifts his bottom half onto the bed, carefully removing the steel leg, setting it onto the floor next to him. One of the only pieces of his Mandalorian days he chose to keep. He had all of his armor melted down, save for his helmet, some of it was forged into a new leg, but the majority was given to the foundlings. 

“I’m serious! I’m in the mood.” You aren’t and he knows it, so any efforts to roll over and face him are stopped as he wraps his arms around you, one hand resting protectively over your stomach. 

“You’re not.” 

“I’m desperate for it.” You whine loudly but he only laughs, his nose bumping against the back of your neck. 

“Go to sleep.” You can hear the grin in his voice. 

You wait a moment in the silence.

“Are you sure?” You start trying to turn again. 

“I swear to the Maker-”

“Okay! Sorry!” 

Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was just everything that had happened. But during your first trimester no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t seem to find the energy to be physical with him. It was as if your libido vanished entirely. You tried several times but he always just kissed your forehead and told you to relax. 

“You’ve given me everything I have ever wanted, I need nothing else from you.” He laughs against your spine as he kisses you there. 

“You’re sure?” 

“What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m fine?” 

“Let me take care of you…” You whine, trying to push back against him as he holds you in place.

“Stop worrying about me.” He continues to chuckle, hot against your skin as he kisses your cheek before pulling the quilt up over you both, it only takes a few minutes for him to start snoring behind you. 

☆

You want to completely disassemble the monarchy.

Din wants you to be as relaxed as possible during your pregnancy. 

Neither one of you has been getting what you want. Turns out being queen doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want, there are limits, limits that have you arguing with your dearly departed husband's family most days. 

You spend the better part of the next month in and out of the throne room, looking down at the table Kodo’s family set up below the throne. You argue over everything, you want to destroy everything that they stand for and obviously they don’t agree. 

So you have to compromise. 

At the end of the day it ends up being better than nothing. 

The royal family no longer has any political power over Naboo citizens, but they get to keep their titles, including your own. They’re ceremonial now. 

The royal family can no longer collect taxes from the people but they get to keep all their funds currently in the vaults. 

The people get to vote in new leaders but the royal family gets to have automatic representation on the council. 

It’s a give and take but when you finally get a chance to walk through the city with Din the people look happy and you can’t help but feel a rush of pride at the little changes. The little smiles you see every now and then, the way people stop to talk to each other, the way people look at you. 

It’s different.

It’s happier, it feels safer. 

It makes spending your first trimester with the Harand’s completely worth it. 

And it’s a good thing you came to an agreement and got everything sorted out when you did because you don’t want to get out of bed most days during your second trimester. 

You feel great, no more nausea and your energies even up. 

You’re just so kriffing horny. 

Morning, noon, and night. 

Din’s finished the added rooms in the cabin so you’re both tasked with getting everything in order in your own room and in the nursery but you don’t let him get much done. 

If you had any worries about leaving him unsatisfied those first few months they’re gone after the first week of your second trimester, you’re more than making up for it. You’re actually worried about him keeping up with you. 

Of course having a bed you love helps. It was the first thing Din made when he started working on the cabin. A bed that wasn’t too big but fit you both perfectly, and you make sure to put it to good use. 

It came on suddenly in the last week of your first trimester. 

You had woken up early one morning craving something you hadn’t wanted in quite some time. So you rolled over, tracing a finger along his bare chest until his eyes fluttered open, his breath hitching as he gave you a sleepy smile. 

“Morning.” His voice in the mornings always reminded you of how he used to sound through the modulator, low and raspy. 

“Good morning.” You whispered back, letting your hand drag down his stomach until he stopped you, kissing your forehead, you shuffled towards him, feeling his cock hardening against your hip. You furrow your brow in confusion as he starts getting up. “Is something wrong?”

“You don’t need to force it for my sake.” You know he isn’t upset, he’s never voiced concerns about your sex life but he’s convinced himself that you just don’t have a sex drive right now. When in reality you’ve woken up almost painfully needy. 

“Din-“ You start, reaching towards him. 

“Sarad.” He took your hand in his as he situated his leg. 

“Do you still want me?” You won’t be upset if he says no, after all you haven’t wanted him very much recently. 

“Always. But I’m not gonna let you pretend for my sake. Your hormones are different now, maybe after the baby is born you’ll feel a little different, if not, I’ll still be sleeping here next to you every single night. Nothing’s gonna change that.” 

“But-“

“I’m gonna take a shower.” He kissed your hand and left the room, leaving you hot between your thighs and suddenly worried that he’d never believe you were ready. 

You had brushed him off and been clearly uncomfortable often enough now that he had resigned himself to making no more attempts. 

He took a lot of showers. 

And you could pretend you didn’t hear him groaning your name through the door but it still sent a pang of guilt through you that no amount of reassurance could change. 

You hear the water turn on as you lay back in bed with a frustrated sigh. 

You have the galaxy's most devoted husband, you could tell him you never wanted to touch him again and he’d never ask why. He’d simply love you from a little further away, and you love him with all of your heart for that but in that moment you just wanted to be fucked. 

So you rolled over and stuck your hand in your nightstand drawer, searching for the cold metal of the vibrator you’d bought ages ago. When you finally found it you experimentally tested the buttons, grinning when you realized it still worked. You set up some pillows against the headboard to lean against them, bending your legs at the knee as you reach under your nightgown, finding your thighs sticky, your panties doing nothing to contain the arousal coursing through you. 

For a second you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to do it but the moment you switch on the toy it’s like riding a bike. The motions, the patterns, all of it comes rushing back and in just a few shakey breathes you're already on edge. 

You can hear him over the buzzing, you hear a few thuds, closing your eyes you imagine him on the other side of the wall. 

Without his helmet.

You haven’t been able to think about him like that since he abandoned his creed, now it’s all you can think about. 

His hand up against the tile, steadying him. The other wrapped around that pretty cock of his. You turn up the vibrator as you picture the water cascading down his skin, making his curls straighten out as he pulls back his foreskin, his pretty pink tip’s probably leaking down his shaft. 

“Din-” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the grunt you can hear faintly followed by the strained sound of your name. Your stomach tightens. His eyes are probably squeezed tightly shut, creasing in the corners as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “Din, please.”

“Kriff.” He hisses out loud enough for you to hear clear as day. 

You hear him stifle a moan, is he biting his own hand? You decide it’s for the best that you do that now as well, covering your mouth with your palm. You chase the tightening in your stomach, dipping the toy into the wetness pooling at your entrance and back up to your clit. You’re so focused on getting off that it barely even registers when the water turns off in the other room.

“Fuck-” You whine softly, turning it up one more setting.

You open your eyes when the door creaks open, Din stepping back into the bedroom with a towel held loosely around his waist. You squeeze your thighs together, your eyes watering as a gasp is forced out of your stomach, your body convulsing briefly. 

Maker, you’re more pent up than you thought. 

You wet your lips with your tongue as his grip on the towel tightens, his eyes go wider than you’ve ever seen them and he coughs. 

“M’gonna go make breakfast.” He manages to mumble out as the tips of his ears burn up, he gets dressed rather hastily before rushing out of the room.

When you go to the dresser to find something to wear you pick something that rides up on your stomach. You don’t really have a bump yet, Din insists that he can tell, often kissing you just above your belly button when he does but you don’t really notice a difference. 

You meander out into the kitchen, already having to yank down the front of your top. 

Maker, maybe you are showing. 

You innocently look through the conservator as he sets the table, frowning as he pouts himself a mug of caf. You’ve been wanting some for weeks but he won’t let you have so much as a sip. 

“I think I’m gonna make some cinnamon rolls tonight.” You sit down at the table as he sets a plate of buttered bread with meat and eggs. 

“That sounds lovely.” He kisses the top of your head, bringing you a glass of juice and a few vitamins before sitting beside you. “Do you need me to go into the city and get anything for you?”

“No, I think I’ve got everything I need. What are you doing today?” 

“House work. I need to fix a few things and install the heaters, it’s gonna be cold when the baby gets here.” You’re rather excited for winter, you haven’t seen snow since you left Hoth. It’s already started to chill outside. Naboo has long autumns and you aren’t due until the winter. 

“Do you need any help with that?” You ask as you take a bite of the rich dense bread, already knowing the answer. 

“No, you just relax today.”  Ever since you finished all your royal business Din hasn’t let you do any work around the house. 

“I got that package from Elaine a few days ago, I could finally unpack everything.” You nod towards the crate in the living room and he’s already shaking his head. 

“I can do that when I finish up the heat-“

“I can’t just sit around all day everyday.” You point your fork at him as he gives you an apologetic look. 

“You could if you wanted to.” He says hopefully before you flick a piece of sausage at him. He easily catches it out of the air, popping it into his mouth. 

“Oh and we should have sex tonight.” You try to say it as casually as possible but he immediately chokes on his food, coughing briefly before clearing his throat and taking a sip from his mug. 

“Mesh’la, how many times do I have to tell you not to worry about that.” 

“It’s not for your sake, it’s for mine.” You’re not even halfway done with your breakfast as he takes his last bite. Quickly standing and rushing his dishes to the sink. 

“We’ll talk about it later, I gotta get started on some stuff.” He’s walking around you carefully, avoiding your angry glare as he makes a hasty escape towards the third bedroom. 

“If you don’t listen to me I’m not letting you pick the middle name!” You yell after him but all you get in return is a muffled chuckle. 

You finish your breakfast, taking your time as you chew, feeling rather frustrated despite the orgasm you already gave yourself less than an hour ago. 

The third room is currently your makeshift laundry room, you keep anything that doesn’t have a proper place in there. Currently Din is fixing the window in there so you take it upon yourself to do a load of laundry. You empty the washer, filling it again as you turn on both machines. 

“Mind if I watch you for a bit?” You smile at him as he nods, wiping a bead of sweat from his hairline. You take the opportunity to hop up on the dryer when he turns back to his work. 

You close your eyes, letting your head roll to the side a bit as you lean forward. You smile to yourself, a wave of deja vu washes over you as you think of everytime you’ve teased him prior. You get lost in the memory of the two of you in the library, you briefly forget your goal entirely as you rock yourself back and forth, humming softly to yourself. 

Your thoughts eventually drift to how he had touched you that night and when you finally come to your senses your face is hot as your fingers grip your thighs. When you look at din he’s staring at you slack jawed.

He clears his throat, his face going red as he quickly goes back to work, finishing up quickly before getting ready to leave. 

“Help me down?” You hold your arms out to him and you swear he gulps as he steps over the laundry basket to grab you under your arms, setting you down. 

“All good?” His voice is strained as he watches you nod. 

“Perfect.” 

Except it isn’t perfect. 

The bastard remained unconvinced. 

And you remain frustrated out of your mind. 

He takes a break after installing the heating system, when he sits on the sofa, sipping a glass of water you take it upon yourself to finally go through the baby clothes Elaine sent you. The large crate is marked with a calligraphed L&E. You carefully break open the top, opening the envelope placed on top of the many fabrics. You can’t help but smile when you see who it’s addressed to. 

Princess,

Is it still princess? ‘Queen’ seems like a bit much, although you should have seen the High Magistrates' face when we told him the Mandalorian married royalty. 

He wants to visit when the little one is born but unfortunately we won’t be joining him. Elaine’s a bit sensitive to the cold but we’ll see you when it warms up. She’s terribly excited to be a godmother, even if she doesn’t show it. When Din told her the sex she started sewing immediately. Took two weeks for her to make all this, you can expect more soon. She can’t seem to help herself, our house is full of tiny socks and hats. 

The shop’s doing well. Karga alone buys enough clothes to keep us in business but things are good. I still don’t know how Elaine sews as much as she does or as well as she does but she hasn’t slowed down since we moved. 

She misses you, even if she acts all tough about it. I miss you too, we’ll visit as soon as it’s spring. 

Send pictures of the nursery when it’s finished. 

Love, Lysa 

You look down at the contents and are taken aback at the sheer amount of baby clothes you’re faced with. You grab the first thing that catches your eye, little green overalls. 

“Oh my gods.” You hold them up for him to see. Din’s gaze goes soft as he stares at the fabric. He slides off the sofa to sit on the floor beside you, taking them as you begin looking through the rest of the clothes. 

“Are you sure he’s gonna fit in these? They look small.” He holds the overalls in front of his face as you fish out a handful of striped socks. 

“That’s how big newborns are, my love. He’s gonna be small.” You unfold a large patchwork quilt, marveling at the craftsman ship as Din gives you a skeptical look. 

“These are just so… tiny.” You laugh a bit at the sudden anxiety in his voice. 

“I thought Grogu was a baby? You should know how small babies are, how old was he when you found him?”

“Fifty.” You shove his arm. 

“Funny.” You stop laughing the second you find a little gray hat with black yarn patterns. “Maker, you’re gonna die when you see this.” You flip it around in your hands, showing him the mock design of his helmet, the thin cross of his visor. 

“No kriffing way.” He takes it from you as you fight off a grin. 

☆

When you’ve finished going through everything Din packs it all back up, taking it to the nursery as you bake, simultaneously trying to think of different ways to seduce your riduur. 

You shoo him away when he tries to help, eventually he settles on sitting on the couch. Reading from where he can see you. 

You’re strongly considering just getting “stuck” in the washer and calling him to help you, you’re pretty sure you saw that in a holo at one point. 

By the time you finish baking you still have nothing, taking them out of the oven and icing them before placing one on a plate and making your way over to him. You pull yourself up into his lap, gently taking his book and setting it down beside you. 

“Mesh’la.” He says in a stern tone, his voice wavers a bit as he struggles to keep his composure. 

“I thought you like my baking?” You pout and somehow he falls for it. 

Pregnancy has made him even more infatuated with you, if that’s even possible. He’s somehow more gentle with you than ever before. 

“Of course I do.” He mumbles sweetly, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. You tear off a chunk of the pastry, something you’ve done before, and bring it to his lips.

“Open.” You say sternly and he immediately does, letting you feed him. If it’s possible for a man to be both extremely relaxed and extremely stressed out then that’s what Din currently is. 

You stay in his lap.

Feeding him until the plate is empty, he even licks your fingers clean and you’re so mesmerized by the plush softness of his mouth that you can’t help yourself.

You fall forward into him, and he flinches. 

He never flinches. 

You immediately back up, crawling off his lap as you give him a look of concern, trying to figure out if you’ve hurt him. 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” He swallows, avoiding eye contact. 

“Don’t be sorry.” You whisper it, leaning forward, resting your head on his shoulder, he takes your hand in yours. 

“I just- I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me.” 

“Why are you so insistent that I don’t want you?” You finally just tear the band aid off. 

Silence.

Briefly, you know he’s deciding if he should say it or not. 

“You stopped wanting to have sex when I took the helmet off.” He blurts out and you nearly fall off the couch at the absurdity of his reasoning. 

“Din that has noth-“

“And it’s fine. There’s no reason for you to pretend to be attracted to me just for the sake of my ego. You can love me without loving,” He gestures at himself. “this.”

It makes you want to cry. 

To think that he thought you were withholding your affections because you didn’t like how he looked. It makes you even more upset to know that he was okay with that, he was willing to live a life believing that to be true and simply never touch you like that again. 

“Look, I still have the helmet, we’re going to make this work.” He whispers. His leg bounces up and down until he suddenly stands. “Give me a minute?” He’s already headed for the door. You sit there, a little stunned.

You decide to give him space, you can talk when he comes to bed. You dress in a thin brown camisole and green panties, you try to make yourself look nice, hoping maybe he’ll relax at the sight of it but based on the look he gives you when he comes into the bedroom you’re a little worried it’s having the opposite effect. 

“I love you and-” You start but he just collapses into bed next to you.

“Please- mesh’la I can’t, this torment is unbearable.” His hands clutch the fabric of your clothes, his fingers trembling. “You’re making this extremely difficult for me.” He’s downright flushed as he pleads with you. 

“I won’t stop until you believe me.” You insist further as he sinks his eyes into you, his pupils swollen and frantically searching your face as he swallows loudly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful to me. It had nothing to do with you, I just- I needed a little time after everything.” You whisper sharply, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “I’ve been waiting to wake up. I keep thinking you’re gonna disappear and I’m going to lose you all over again and none of that is your fault.” The room is quiet aside from your combined breathing. 

“Are you sure? Really sure?” He’s speaking so quietly you barely hear him as his fingertips ghost the exposed skin under the bunched up fabric of your top. 

“Look, I’m not going to force you to touch me, but I don’t know how else to get my point across and if you really want me to stop all of this then I will-“

“Don’t stop.” He whispers, barely audibly as his hands hold your face, lips pressed to yours. Your head falls back into the pillows as his mouth immediately makes a beeline south, kissing your sternum, you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back up. “Please- I wanna taste-” He downright whines as you pull his bottom lip between your teeth.

“After.” You pant into his mouth. “I can’t wait, I need you.” 

You do, terribly. 

You guide his hand between your legs and his fingers push your panties to the side in an instant, his mouth falls open in a silent moan as he feels the wetness there. He eases a finger into you as you whine impatiently. “I don’t wanna wait-” You reach down to grab at his wrist but he just kisses you again to silence you.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbles, he listens to an extent, pushing in a second finger. The stretch is delicious. You feel like your skin is on fire as you try to push yourself further onto his hand. 

“I don’t care, please Din I need you so bad. I need your cock.” Your brain is foggy, you're so turned on right now, you’d do anything to feel him inside you. 

He nods, shoving his trousers down and pulling his shirt up over his head as you squirm out of your own clothing. Almost immediately he looks overwhelmed, his eyes don’t know where to settle as they make their way down your body. Finally he swallows, taking his cock in hand, tip pink and pretty as he strokes himself so you can see how he’s already leaking, just for you. 

He eases himself into you, slow and steady as you try to stay still. It’s all too much, his thick length pressing deeper and deeper into you until you’re both gasping, forehead to forehead with him fully seated within your heat. 

“Okay?” He manages to spit the words out despite the way his chest heaves as you nod. 

“Din fuck me please I can take it.” You plead with him, he looks skeptical so you rock your own hips, it isn’t much but it’s enough to make your eyes roll back as you nudge him deeper. 

“Look at me.” He whispers as you blink, trying to focus on the warmth in his eyes as he searches your expression for pain. 

“You’re so pretty.” You mumble out. He looks a little surprised by the sentiment, his tongue poking out between his lips as he looks at you. 

Has anyone ever told him that? 

“Thank you.” Is the last thing he says before slamming his hips forwards, the head of his cock bumping against your cervix. His thrusts are erratic and needy as he watches your face intently. He’s so worked up and it’s been so long and the combination of it all has him practically whimpering against you within minutes.

“I can’t- I- It-” He begins to stammer, his lips are wet and swollen, his eyes fight to stay open, pupils darting everywhere like he’s trying to take in as much as he possibly can as his cock pulses inside you. 

You want him to come. You want to watch him, watch his face, as he finishes. You want to see him hot and desperate just for you, you want to know that you made him feel this good after just a few minutes. 

“I wanna see, please, please Din.” You lay back, gasping with every stutter of his hips, taking in the sight as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I- I- kriff, love you so much.” He hisses out as his hands fist the sheets. The veins in his neck stick out as his mouth falls open, an obscene moan is ripped from him as he rocks his hips forward one last time, you can see where the two of you are connected. His cum spilling out around his length, forced out by the sheer girth of him. His breathing is staggered as he slumps forward, kissing you with a fire that you didn’t realize you missed so much.

He doesn’t kiss you nearly as much as you want before his mouth is already moving down your body, any complaints you have never make it past your lips. It feels too good when he touches you like this.

He squishes the bridge of his nose into your stomach, just below your belly button as he kisses the soft skin there. His mouth hasn’t even made its way between your legs yet and he’s moaning into your flesh, his fingers kneading the meat of your hips. 

He pushes your thighs wider apart and you swear you see him drool at the view he’s presented with. 

He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy, waiting for permission. You nod a little too quickly and he dives into you. His tongue immediately works its way into your still dripping hole, he’s everywhere, precise and deliberate as he pushes his own seed back into you. 

“So- fucking- good-” He mumbles to himself as if you aren’t even there before flattening his tongue against your clit, it’s enough to have your thighs closing around his head, the cool metal of his hearing aids stings your flesh as you come undone. Your vision goes white as you whine, high pitched and breathy. 

He doesn’t stop for a second, eating like you’re a goddamn buffet. When you catch a glimpse of his face his jaw is slick with a combination of the two of you. His eyes are dark as your head falls back, you want so desperately to watch but it’s too much, all you can do is whimper and grip his hair. 

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves until you’re coming all over again. You collapse back into the pillows, already exhausted but smiling so hard your face hurts. He sits back on his ankles, lifting your legs as he kisses your calves. 

He’s perfect like this. 

Tan, scarred body on display to you in the warm lamp light. Skin covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes his hair curl and stick to his forehead. His eyes are dark as his tongue pokes out, swiping across his lips to taste the remnants of you, his cock stands proud against his stomach, already hard and aching for you once more. 

“Don’t relax just yet, I’m not done with you.” He mumbles into your tender flesh, hands grabbing your ankles as he yanks you forward, slotting himself between your legs again. 

It’s a good thing because you certainly aren’t done with him, you can’t get enough of him for the next six months. 

Further into your second trimester nothing’s changed. If anything you’re even more insatiable. If it was possible to get pregnant twice you’d have done it by now. 

You also make a point to kiss his face as much as humanly possible, you can’t help but wonder if anyone else ever has.

He likes it in a way you aren’t yet familiar with, he leans into your lips at every opportunity, eager to feel your mouth against the apples of his cheeks, the sensitive skin of his eyelids, the sharp angle of his nose, and the prickles of the stubble on his chin. 

And you are more than happy to indulge him. 

☆

The third trimester wasn’t much better but you managed to better manage your time. You went on walks, even if they were short, you’d insist on walking around the gardens or the markets whenever you could. 

You didn’t think it was possible but somehow Din’s become even more protective. If he had things his way you’d sit in the cabin all day while he stared at you from a few inches to your left. 

With that sharp protectiveness has come a silence, it takes a few days for you to notice but you realize just how quiet he’s been. It’s subtle but you know something's off. Word’s become soft arm touches, he holds you a little tighter at night and he never asks if you need help anymore, he just does everything before you can even get to it. 

It’s seemingly a couple of things. 

You know something is bothering him but he’s become sort of shy. 

When you walk the markets he’s still viewed as a member of your staff but you don’t hide things anymore. You’ll feed him by hand if you buy a snack cake, you’ll hold his arm as you walk. He’ll even kiss your forehead if the opportunity arises.   

But he’s timid. 

And it isn’t until you’re visiting Vivian that you realize what it is. You had been telling her about how hard it’s been for you to decide on a shade of green for the nursery when he had hidden his face in your hair. You had entangled your fingers in his and thought of it as nothing more than an act of affection from him but it started happening more often. 

And then it clicked.

He only ever did it after being directly addressed, when people were looking at him. You finally brought it up one night when you’d been trying to get comfortable on the couch, your protruding stomach making it exceedingly difficult. 

You’ve got two talking points to cover, the sudden shyness, and getting to the bottom of his silence, although you’ve got a sneaking suspicion as to what it’s about. 

You eventually settled with your head in his lap and your feet up on the arm rest, smiling up at him as he played with your hair. 

“You know you can wear the helmet when we go out if you want.” You finally blurt out as he gives you a confused look. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Well I know that you still have it and you just seem a little… uncomfortable sometimes without it.”

“I thought you liked my face?” He says it with a teasing tone but it has you sitting up out of the position you struggled to find for so long.

“I love your face. But I also want you to be comfortable.” You press a long kiss into the coarse facial hair of his jaw, he’s been so busy with house work and you it’s gotten longer than you’ve ever seen or felt it. 

“I’m comfortable with you.” He turns his face, nudging his nose against your lips until you kiss him there as well. 

“I just noticed that you’ve been a little tense, especially during outings.” You tilt your head, giving him a lopsided smile as he stands, leaning down to cradle your face in his hands. 

“I’m just not used to it, cyare.” He stands, examining the space in the room. “I want to put a fireplace in before the baby comes.” He mumbles as he moves the loveseat, making space against the wall.

You seize the opportunity, might as well kill two birds with one stone. 

“Speaking of when the baby comes, I thought we were going to visit your little one at some point?” 

His shoulders stiffen up for just a moment before he shrugs.

“I guess I’ve just had other things on my mind, nerves about the baby.” He doesn’t look at you, instead he measures the space on the wall with his hands. 

“I thought you were excited to be a dad?”

“I am a dad, and I am excited.” He’s mumbling, he hasn’t talked about Grogu in ages and it’s making you worry. 

“You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Not with me.” 

He turns and stares at you for a moment before clearing his throat. 

“I’m scared.” He sits back down beside you and you wrap your arms around him as best you can with your bump in the way.

“Of what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’m scared that the baby won’t like me, or that I’ll mess them up, or something like that.” It is so much easier to tell when he’s lying, now that you can see his face. You never would have thought his cheeks would get so rosy. 

He’s a natural with kids and he’s been more excited than you are for the baby, he even spends all his free time embroidering the baby’s name into their clothes. 

“Din.” You say sternly, pulling back to look at him.

He chews the inside of his cheek a bit. 

He whispers something but he’s so quiet you can’t hear him.

“Din, please.” You take his head in your hands and force him to look at you. 

“I’m scared that if we go to get Grogu he won’t want to come home with us.”

A pang of sorrow hits your heart. 

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Maybe he’s happy there, maybe he’s forgotten all about me.” He looks hurt in a way you’ve never seen him before, if you weren’t days away from your due date you’d get on a ship and take him to his boy right now. 

“He hasn’t forgotten about you.” You take his hand. 

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you. And I know that I’d never forget you.” He still looks unsure as you stare into those sad eyes of his. “We have to at least try, it would be better to know. This baby already loves you, that’s enough of an indicator to me that Grogu feels the same.”

“You have no proof that this baby already loves me.” He finally cracks a smile at what you’re implying.

“Come here.” You lay your head back down in his lap, making a second desperate attempt to get comfortable. You grab his hand, lifting the fabric of your top until your stomach is exposed, placing his large palm over the swell of your belly. “Talk to him.” 

“What am I supposed to say?” He’s looking at you like you’re insane but you just shrug.

“You talk to him all the time.”

“Yeah but you never put me on the spot like this.” With his freehand he rubs the back of his neck. 

“Just do it.” He takes a deep breath, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. 

“Hello ik’aad.” He says softly, looking up at you for approval as you nod. “I’m excited to meet you soon, little one.” You watch as the taut skin moves ever so slightly, a little kick against Din’s fingers. His eyes go wide as he sits there a little stunned, you put your hand over his. 

“He does this most of the time when you talk to him. He likes your voice.”

“What else should I tell him about?”

“Anything.” 

He smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkle before he smiles at your bump.

“We painted your crib today, we decided to leave the walls alone but we wanted something to be green.” He carries on excitedly as you continue to feel the little flutters within you. “And- and someday you’re going to share a room with your brother.” You smile as your little one reacts to his fathers voice, you sit up, facing him.

“No more worrying. And if you’re going to worry then I want you to tell me.” You kiss as much of his face as you can. “Okay? Do this for me, please?”

“Okay.” He nods as you give him one last kiss on the lips. 

You move to sit between his legs like you used to in the nook, you find yourself a book as he puts his hands back on your bump while you read. 

He spends the rest of the night talking to your stomach. 

☆

Arin Kuiil Djarin (Harand) was born with a full head of hair. Dark, messy curls that you could make out even through your tears when he came into this world. 

The future monarch. (A ceremonial position.) 

A screaming ball of tears in your arms, crowned king from birth. A boy everyone knew as the only son of the recently departed Kodo Harand. 

Your “royal advisor and personal guard” was beside you the entire time. Holding your hand and kissing your sweat slicked forehead as he whispered to you, telling you just how strong you were. It was one hell of a night but when the morning came suddenly you were parents to a strong, loud little boy.

Din held him first, after he cut the umbilical cord the doctor handed him to him. You watched as he cradled the tiny crying baby in his arms, shushing him softly as he rocked him. It took only a few whispers from his father before Arin calmed down, gasping faintly as Din slid into the bed next to you. You laid your head against his arm, unable to tear your eyes off of the tiny miracle.  

“Do you wanna hold him?” Din’s voice cracks as he continues to stare at him. 

You nod, a little scared about how small he is but you hold your hands out regardless as he carefully transfers him into the crook of your arm. You’re holding your breath as you look down at him. 

When he’s safe in your arms he finally opens his eyes. 

He is just a little copy of your riduur. 

Dark curious eyes scanning your face as you burst into another wave of tears.

“He’s perfect.” 

“He’s perfect.”

You both whisper at the same time, laughing softly. You hold him tightly, Din’s arms wrapped protectively around both of you. 

Your entire universe in one little medcenter bed.

☆

You go on a lot of walks.

It helps you get out of the house and people love to see Arin. Din wears a baby carrier Elaine made with the little one strapped to his chest while you hold his hand. Everyone loves to see the little king, telling you that he’s such a good baby.

People often say he looks just like his father, you always laugh and smile at your brown haired boy.

He really does.  

He acts just like his father too. Even as a baby you can see his personality shining through. He likes to fight you on a lot of things, mostly vegetables and wearing his socks, but he loves you endlessly, your little mama’s boy. You never thought you’d see the adoration from Din’s eyes in someone else's but here he is, smiling up at you like you’re the sun, just like Din.

Your son was one year old when you met your second son. (Technically your eldest.)

You had urged Din to go to him sooner but he always found excuses, finally he told you he wanted to wait until Arin was a little older. On his first birthday you finally convinced him, and your family took a trip to a planet called Ossus. 

And you met a little boy who you loved as a son from the moment you met him. 

He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting but the moment he saw Din you recognized the look in his eyes as the same look Arin gives him first thing in the morning. And from that moment on you knew he was yours. 

You couldn’t ask for sweeter boys in your life. 

You finally found your peace.

Your freedom. 

Things are a little different now but you never find a reason to be upset about it. You just learn to live with it. 

Sometimes Din has to cut up any fruits or vegetables you’re preparing for dinner because the wet slicing sound makes your heart race. 

You sleep with a lamp on because Din trembles when a room goes completely dark, when he asks why you don’t turn it off you tell him you just like having it on because you know he’ll never tell you just how afraid he was when he was trapped beneath the stone and earth. 

You wrap him in blankets when winter comes and cradle his head against your chest, desperate to keep him warm. You see the vacant look in his eyes when a chill settles in his bones. The moment you see him shiver you bundle him up and drag him to bed, warming him with gentle and precise kisses until his eyes soften up again. 

Din always wakes you up if he’s leaving the room after you’ve fallen asleep. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to the fresher or if he’s going to grab the baby and come right back. Because he knows that if he isn’t there when you wake up, you will freeze up in terror and cry softly to yourself until he returns.��

On stormy nights, when the wind blows a certain way that resembles a low wailing, Din will always find an excuse to send Lysa a transmission, asking how Elaine is doing. 

You learn to live with the little thing’s because sometimes you can’t heal completely, but you live regardless. You have reasons to endure. 

You endure for Din. 

You endure for Grogu. 

And you endure for Arin. 

Din always says he was born to love you.

You agree but that wasn’t all he was born for, he was born to be a father. 

Arin and Grogu taught you to be a mother, but Din was made for fatherhood. 

That’s what you think about, as you sit in the loveseat by the fire, book in hand. You aren’t actually reading it, you’re too busy watching the scene on the floor in front of you. Your sons peek out of the pillow fort they’ve built against the sofa, Arin covering his mouth as he holds in a giggle, staring at you with his wide brown eyes. You give him a small wave, watching as he darts back inside. 

“Are you staring at your mother, young man? Staring is very rude.” You hear Din’s voice from inside the fort, a large bump in the blanket roof where he sits. More giggles follow as he crawls back to the small entryway, you watch as he shrieks when Din drags him back into the fort, taking his place and mimicking the little boy as he stares at you.

He looks at you with a devotion that never wavers. 

“You’re my creed. Everything I have, everything I am, it’s all for you. For both of you.” 

He still tells you that often. Except now he says for all of you. 

He crawls out of the fort, his face red from exertion as he makes his way over to your chair, like he’s under some sort of spell that pulls him towards you.

“How are my girls, buir sarad?” Din’s out of breath as he grabs the armrests of the chair, caging you in as he kisses you. 

“Tired.” You grin at him as he kneels down in front of you, resting his forehead on the bump you’re cradling with your freehand. You set your book down on the end table next to you, content to watch as he knocks his nose against the strained fabric of your dress. 

“Sarad’ika.” He smiles, kissing the top of your stomach, you don’t mind losing your nickname to someone it suits more. “Let me put them to bed, I’ll be right back.” His lips turn up as he stands, looking down at the two boys with drooping eyes and mouths open in yawns.

“Go with your buir now my loves, I’ll come tuck you in in a minute.” You groan as you stand, Din scooping up both babies with ease. 

“Haav ca’nara.” Bed time. He whispers, carrying them towards the fresher, you hear the water run as he washes their little faces and brushes their teeth. 

You tidy up, folding blankets and rearranging pillows as you hear water splashing from the other room followed by a loud sigh. You stifle a laugh as you watch your boys running from the fresher down the hall towards their room, a soaking wet Din soon follows. You continue to clean, waiting until it gets quiet before making your way out of the room. You walk past the nursery, empty and waiting for its next occupant, towards the door with the faint glow of a night light. Peering in from the doorway you see all your boys in one room. 

Grogu and Arin lay in their respective beds, each is far too big for the small boys but they’ll grow into them. Grogu’s already asleep as Din kneels beside Arin’s bed, brushing a curl out of the little one's eyes. 

“Goodnight, ik’aad.” He leans down, kissing his son's face, earning a sleepy smile from the boy. 

“Night, buir.” He mumbles out, he doesn’t speak often, quiet like his father, but when he does it’s always clear. 

Din smiles, standing, kissing your cheek as he passes you, going out into the main room to lock up as you make your way to Grogu’s bedside, watching his eyes flutter as you press a kiss into his wrinkly green forehead. 

“Goodnight, my love.” You mumble before turning to Arin’s bed, sitting beside him as you watch him fight sleep, trying to keep his eyes open. “Sleep now my little love.” You murmur to him, kissing your fingertips before bringing them to his forehead. 

“Goodnight mama.” He yawns out as you watch him finally succumb to sleep. 

You leave the door open a crack, letting out another groan as you rub your stomach, Din waits for you in the dimly lit hall, holding out a hand which you happily take, letting him pull you into an embrace. 

“No more babies after this one, my back is killing me.” You give him a stern look as he brings both hands to your bump. 

“You have given me everything, I wouldn’t possibly ask for more.” He whispers. “Although I do think we could handle one more.” He raises his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but laugh.

“Fine, you carry the next one then.” You reach behind him, pushing open the door as you grab the collar of his tunic, pulling him into a kiss while you laugh against each other. 

“I love you.” He mumbles. 

“I love you too.” There is no hesitation. There hasn’t been for a long time. 

And you go to bed. 

In your perfectly sized bedroom. 

On your perfectly sized mattress. 

With your Din. 

☆

a/n : this is technically the last chapter of bks <3 :,) epilouge in one week. q&a tomorrow so send your asks with questions. all my love to everyone whos read this far.

i no longer have a tag list !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates !!

[miryum]

Foundling Villa- Chapter 15

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp @multifandom-loser

Warnings: smut 18+ minors dni (p in v, nudity, f receiving oral and fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex) and swearing

This chapter can be skipped if you’re uncomfortable- no major plot points other than the smut will take place. (That’s why it’s literally just the smut)

Okay, I know I just posted a couple hours ago, but I had ideas for this chapter and I just had to write it and here we are... Hope you guys like it! 😁 😅

ao3 link  next chapter>>

Charles raised a brow. “Would you like to continue the wedding night?”

Your heart started beating a little quicker. “Lead the way.”

Charles scooped you up and carried you over the threshold of your room. You laughed loudly, hitting him lightly in the chest. “What?” he winked. ”I have to make up for what we missed.” You rolled your eyes, a fluttering erupting in your stomach. 

Charles set you gently on the bed, pressing kisses down your collarbone. You pulled his face back towards yours, needing to feel his lips. Charles discarded his shirt, hissing at the cut along his arm. You stilled. “Are you sure we should be doing this? You’re hurt, Charles.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t stop this for all the riches in the land. It’s just a small graze. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Your hesitations were cut off with another kiss. Shrugging your robe off, you were desperate to get rid of the layers separating you and Charles. Already, you could feel heat spread along your body, circulating at the bottom of your stomach.

Your husband helped you take off your sleepwear and soon you lay to him bear, save your underwear. “Beautiful, cherié. Simply gorgeous,” Charles uttered, taking you in. 

You ran your hands down his chest, feeling the muscles and curves that you had the sole pleasure of exploring. “I could say the same to you.” 

“May I take care of you?” Charles whispered. You nodded in reply, not trusting your voice.

Charles’ mouth trailed down your body, mumbling worships and reverence. He paused at one of your breasts, glancing up at you before taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue over the sensitive bud. You gasped as he pulled at it softly, the feeling of his teeth unexpected. He repeated the action with your other breast, putting as much care and love as he had the first. 

More open-mouthed kisses trailed down your stomach stopping right above your underwear. “Y/n, are you sure? I need you to be positive you want this.”

“I want this, Charlie,” you insisted. “Honestly, your need for consent is making you more attractive.”

Charles chuckled, eyes darkening. “Call me that again.”

“What?” Your lips curved into a smile. “Charlie?” Charles groaned, hips jerking forward, desperate for friction. A spark ignited in your chest, now knowing the power you held over him. “Or… would you like me to call you… My Prince?” 

“Cherié,” Charles warned, lifting an eyebrow. “Be careful. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me.” 

A moan filled the room, Charles’ head falling back. You admired the curve in his neck. “As you wish, my wife.”

His fingers curled around your underwear, tugging it off. You felt the cold air hit your bare skin and Charles murmured in appreciation, hands gracing over your hips. 

“Please, Charles.”

“Anything you want, cherié.” Charles slowly swept a finger up between your folds. You whined, wanting more. “So wet for me, hm?” Charles muttered, “so ready for me.”

His finger smoothed a faint circle over your clit and you begged, “Please, Charles, please!”

“No, princess, that’s not my name.” Charles shook his head, growing hard at the sight underneath him.

“Fine,” you conceded. “Charlie, please touch me.”

“There we go.” Charles went and licked a stripe around your bundle of nerves, moving down to tease your hole. You gasped at the sudden contact, hips bucking because you needed more. 

Charles continued to suck along your clit and you grabbed at his hair, tugging slightly. Charles let out a moan that vibrated along your folds and your breaths became shallower as you felt your heart rate pick up. Your walls clenched around nothing and you said, “Ch- Charlie, I think I’m almost there!”

You started to complain as Charles moved away from you, wanting the feeling of his mouth back. “Not yet,” he said. “I want you to come around me.” You realised what he meant when he started undoing his pants. 

During your wedding night, you had been too embarrassed and shy to look Charles in the eye when he was handling his cock. But now, Charles lifted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes,” you licked your lips and Charles’ gaze was drawn to it. “But shouldn’t I return the pleasure?” 

Charles’ chuckled. “Y/n, you don’t have to ‘return the favour’. Today is about you. And besides, if you truly want to, you can take charge next time.”  

Next time. A promise. It made you smile. 

You let out a desperate sound as Charles’ tip brushed your entrance. It didn’t hurt as much as last time, but adjusting to his size still stung a bit. He waited until your hips started rocking against his to match your pace. He could barely hold back a groan as he increased the speed. Using one hand to grip the headboard, Charles thrusted deeply into you, making you moan. You inhaled sharply when you felt his other hand glide down to your clit and start rubbing small circles onto the bundle of nerves. You cried out and your walls clenched around him. 

“Shit, Y/n, I don’t know how much longer I can go if you keep doing that,” Charles sucked in a breath. 

“Charlie, I think I’m about to come!” You felt the tight coil of pleasure in you build up, finally snapping, and you came around Charles. His breathing became irregular and his hips jerked back and forth. You could tell he was on the verge of joining you in ecstasy. You reached up and placed a kiss right under his ear, gently sucking on the tender spot. Charles shivered and let out a loud moan and with one last thrust, he filled you up. 

Slowly, he pulled back from you, panting. Your chest rose and fell and you tried to calm your heart. Charles didn’t pull back immediately, instead, he rested his head upon your shoulder. 

“I- I liked that a lot better than before,” you commented. 

He let out a chuckle, dragging a finger along your jaw. “You’ll get to experience it whenever you want, cherié.”

Instead of agreeing, you simply said, “I love you.”

“And I love hearing you say that,” Charles kissed your cheek. “I love you too, my princess.”

[smileyoongle]

Pairing- VampireKing!Jungkook × Human!Reader

Genre- Arranged Marriage AU (Sort of?), Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate AU

Summary- Jeon Jungkook was known to be a tyrant, destroying anything and everything to get what he wanted. And this time, he wanted you.

A/N- Hi guys, this chapter is not essentially a chapter in the series. It is more like an explanation of the current world order in the series' timeline. Please remember, there is going to be no taglist for this series, so keep your notifications on. Okay bye :-)

The Exodus: Unveiling the Origins and Consequences of the Night-Walker Dominion

By Elara Claxon

July 14th 1324

Three thousand years ago, the world witnessed a cataclysmic event known as The Exodus. It was a day when Hell, overwhelmed by an unprecedented number of sinners, could no longer contain them. In an act of desperation, the Devil unleashed these tormented souls upon the Earth, transforming them into vampires. They emerged from their graves, giving birth to an era of terror and bloodshed. These night-walkers, driven by an insatiable thirst for blood, wreaked havoc across the world, decimating entire populations and forcing humanity into hiding.

For years, humans struggled to survive, constantly on the run, seeking refuge from their relentless pursuers. In the midst of this chaos, they began to uncover the weaknesses of these creatures and devise means to counter their strength. It was during this dark period that two self-chosen leaders emerged—Theron for the humans and Aristarchus for the vampires. These leaders, whose names have since become legendary, met in secret to negotiate a fragile peace.

At the time, the world was divided into thirteen nations. Theron and Aristarchus brokered an agreement to partition these nations based on mutual understanding, creating a semblance of order amid the chaos. For a while, this uneasy truce held, allowing both humans and night-walkers to coexist in their respective territories.

However, not all vampires were content with the division. A faction of them, hungry for absolute power, revolted against the established order. They waged a brutal campaign, overthrowing the human-controlled kingdoms one by one until only a single human nation remained. Today, the world is divided into twelve vampire kingdoms and one human kingdom, a stark testament to the aftermath of the great night-walker revolt.

To govern their expanding dominion, the monsters established a ruling council known as the Domini, composed of the seven oldest and most powerful night-walkers. These ancient beings, with centuries of wisdom and strength, assumed control over the night-walker kingdoms. They decreed that one vampire would be chosen as Emperor, tasked with overseeing all thirteen kingdoms. Despite this, the human kingdom remained autonomous, refusing to acknowledge the night-walker emperor’s rule.

The Domini also codified a set of laws and principles in a tome called "The New Order." This book became the cornerstone of vampire governance, outlining the rights and responsibilities of both the Primas and the Foundlings. Primas, the pure-bred who were awakened from the grave by Hell or some miracle, held a revered status. Foundlings, created from turned humans, were often treated as outcasts within their own society.

In recent times, tensions have reached a boiling point. The humans, determined to reclaim their lost territories and sovereignty, have incited revolts across the vampiric kingdoms. These uprisings have led to widespread destruction and loss of life on both sides. Cities lie in ruins, and the streets run red with the blood of humans and night-walkers alike.

The world now stands on the brink of another great upheaval. The delicate balance maintained by The New Order is crumbling under the weight of renewed conflict. As humans fight to regain their power and night-walkers struggle to maintain their dominance, the future of this fractured world hangs in the balance. The Domini, once thought to be the unassailable rulers of the night-walker kingdoms, find their authority challenged at every turn. The ancient treaties and laws that once held the world together are now mere relics of a forgotten era.

In this tumultuous landscape, the fate of humanity and night-walker-kind alike is uncertain. The echoes of The Exodus still reverberate through the ages, a grim reminder of the chaos that can ensue when the balance of power is disrupted. As both sides prepare for the battles to come, one thing is clear: the world as it once was will never be the same again.

Stay vigilant, stay informed, and may we never lose hope.

For information, or to report news, please find us at:

23 Shadowed Alley, Raven's Cross, Valoria

The Eyewitness Post | Keeping the Light of Truth Alive in the Darkest Times

[cosmicaura7]

PEDRO PASCAL MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

UPDATED : 5/02/25

Please make sure to read my rules and guidelines. Comment down below if you want to be added to my taglist for whenever I post new stuffs! Thank you and enjoy! (PS: All moodboards and banners are made by me)

BLURBS

Eating you out

CLINT FLOOD (FREAKY TALES)

--- coming soon ---

DAVE YORK (THE EQUALIZER 2)

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Lesley from Mobile Legends inspired fem reader) In where after being saved from the hands of death, Dave York finds himself living a new life in a secret underworld organization.

DIETER BRAVO (THE BUBBLE)

TAKE TWO

SYNOPSIS : In where you and Dieter Bravo, both Oscar award winning actors, have been casted in Javi Guttierez' newest R-Rated film project.

SHORT N' SWEET (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Popstar!fem reader) In where a global sensation popstar is in need of a leading man for her newest album and was surprised to see an Oscar award winning actor auditioning for the role.

DIN DJARIN (THE MANDALORIAN)

MISCHIEF AND CHAOS

SYNOPSIS : (Claude from Mobile Legends inspired fem reader) In where a skilled thief and her monkey companion manages to steal a small weird green looking foundling for a bounty mission and find themselves being hunted by the Mandalorian.

BESKAR AND EMBERS (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Firefly from Honkai Star Rail inspired fem reader) In where two of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy find themselves hunting one another.

EZRA (THE PROSPECT)

--- coming soon ---

FRANCISCO "CATFISH" MORALES (TRIPLE FRONTIER)

WHOLE PACKAGE BABE, I LIKE THE WAY YOU FIT

SYNOPSIS : In where Francisco Morales is still a virgin because of his rather large size. That was until you came along.

HARRY CASTILLO (THE MATERIALISTS)

--- coming soon ---

JACK "WHISKEY" DANIELS (KINGSMAN : THE GOLDEN CIRCLE)

THORNED ROSES AND WHISKEY SHOTS (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Yor Forger from Spy x Family inspired fem reader) In where the agents of Kingsman and Statesman decided to visit their sister company, Glaze Lilies, for a joint mission.

TILL THE END OF THE LINE (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes inspired fem reader) In where Whiskey's supposed dead wife has returned. But this time as an enemy and is out for his blood.

JAVI GUTTIEREZ (THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT)

TAKE TWO

SYNOPSIS : In where you and Dieter Bravo, both Oscar winning actors, have been casted in Javi Gutierrez’ newest film project.

JAVIER PEÑA (NARCOS)

LIPSTICK STAINS AND CIGARETTE SMOKES (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Clover from Totally Spies inspired fem reader) In where a new agent has been transferred to Colombia to work alongside Steve Murphy and Javier Pena to take down Pablo Escobar. And she wasn't what they were expecting.

JOEL MILLER (THE LAST OF US)

COME RIGHT ON ME, I MEAN CAMARADERIE

SYNOPSIS : In where Joel loves the sight of his pretty little wife all filled up by him.

BUILT BY TRAUMA (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Levi Ackerman from Attack on Titan inspired fem reader) In where two people hardened by the apocalypse crosses paths.

STROKES OF FATE (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Rafayel from Love and Deepspace inspired fem reader) In where Sarah Miller secretly signs up her father and uncle to come with her to the after school art session with her favorite art teacher.

LUCIEN DE LEON (THE UNINVITED)

--- coming soon ---

MARCUS ACACIUS (GLADIATOR II)

THREADS OF FATE (PART I)

SYNOPSIS : (Megara from Hercules/Greek Mythology inspired fem reader) In where the general of Rome captures the princess of Greece.

A PREDATOR'S GAZE (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Medusa inspired fem reader) In where Marcus Acacius finds himself thrown into a hidden ancient temple after he was arrested for conspiring against the Senates of Rome. The great general soon finds himself face to face with what many thought was a mere legend lost to history, the serpent woman with a gaze that can turn any mere mortal who looks into her eyes into mere stone.

MARCUS MORENO (WE CAN BE HEROES)

--- coming soon ---

MARCUS PIKE (THE MENTALIST)

--- coming soon ---

MAX PHILIPS (BLOODSUCKING BASTARDS)

BLOODSTAINED SPREADSHEETS

SYNOPSIS : (Nanami Kento from Jujutsu Kaisen inspired fem reader) In where an exhausted accountant finds herself in the claws of her vampire boss.

MAXWELL LORD (WONDER WOMAN 1984)

--- coming soon ---

OBERYN MARTELL (GAME OF THRONES)

THE RED VIPER'S INSATIABLE WIFE

SYNOPSIS : In where Oberyn's pretty wife can be insatiable most of the time, and he's more than happy to indulge in her desires and fantasies.

THE WHITE KNIGHT'S SECRET (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Darling Charming from Ever After High inspired fem reader) In where the Princess of the Evermore Kingdom has a secret.

WHEN THE NORTHWIND MEETS THE SOUTHERN SANDS (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Stark!Fem Reader) In where the second daughter, the infamous Winter Princess of the North, of the Stark House has been betrothed to the one and only Red Viper of Dorne.

PERO TOVAR (THE GREAT WALL)

THE DANCING PRINCESS AND HER SELLSWORD

SYNOPSIS : (Princess Genevieve from Barbie : 12 Dancing Princesses inspired fem reader) In where two mercenaries find themselves hired to guard 12 princesses.

FEATHERS AND BLADES (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Odette from Barbie : Swan Lake inspired fem reader) In where a Spaniard finds out that his missing lover has been cursed to turn into a majestic swan whenever the sun sets.

REED RICHARDS (FANTASTIC 4)

THE CLASH OF GENIUS MINDS (coming soon)

SYNOPSIS : (Ishigami Senku from Dr. Stone inspired fem reader) In where two of the greatest minds on Earth find themselves unable to stand each other.

TIM ROCKFORD (MERGE MANSION)

--- coming soon ---

[absurdthirst]

Unexpectedly Mated {Alpha!Mando x F!Omega!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamics, heats, denying biological needs, religious creeds, removing your helmet, jealousy, territorial aggression, fingering, first kisses, vaginal sex, rough sex, knotting, mates, marking

Comments: Forbidden to remove your helmet by Creed, Mandalorians deny their basic biological needs as Alphas and Omegas. The helmet blocks the scant of their true mate. Until an open air vent leads Mando to discover that you are his omega.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || The Mandalorian MasterList ||

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

“You must never remove your helmet.” The creed and these words drilled into you at a young age and you have never forgotten, would never be allowed to forget. The creed comes before all else. The covert comes before the individual. In a galaxy full of alphas, omegas, and betas…Mandalorians stood alone. Defying their biological status to better the covert, to keep the numbers up. You wear the helmet to not only protect your face but to keep you from recognizing your mate. The scent recognition of a mate is instant so the Mandalorian solution is to wear helmets with filters so that one can breed with anyone they prefer. Their minds are clouded with scent so the desire is the driving factor. The younglings are raised by the covert as a unit so the aim is to repopulate Mandalore. You suppress your omega urges with supplements and you’ve yet to breed. Too busy with bounty hunting alongside a certain Din Djarin. You’re drawn to him, that’s for sure, but you’ve never bred with him. He’s not interested in a family, in an ad. He wants credits. He wants to protect the foundling under his care and you’ve gone along for the ride.

“Din.” Your modulated voice calls out to him as he strides ahead of you after you reunited the frog woman with her husband. “The kid needs to eat.” You tell him, knowing you need to find the nearest cantina.

The sigh Din gives you is one of frustration and resignation. He likes the kid, he’s risked a lot to protect him, even his covert. The sins he has committed weigh heavily on his shoulders and he nods. “Come on.” He grumbles to the little one. “I know you’re hungry, we’ll get you something to eat.” Hopefully the Crest will be fixed soon. Unable to take off his helmet unless he is in his bunk is starting to frustrate him, the hermetically sealed space is starting to feel stale with the cycled air and he longs for a single breath of fresh air. He had also hoped to slip away for a moment, needing to find a medical facility to replace his implant. It had been damaged from his fight with Moff Gideon and he’s not had time to have it seen to. While he doesn’t visit a brothel or find a sexual partner often, he can feel the need to rut building up in his system. The alpha side he tries to suppress starts to bleed through his normally calm demeanor. 

You sit with the kid in the cantina, snorting when Din saves him from his own lunch and you glance around at the sailors. They mention Mandalorians and you are surprised to hear of your kind here, especially since Din wants to find them so he can help the kid return to his own planet. “Before we head off, maybe we can freshen up. I need to use the fresher and I’m sure you also want some time out of beskar.”

He groans at the idea of time outside the suit. Letting his skin breath and maybe he can work in a quick tug on his cock while he’s in the ‘fresher. “We’ll have to get rooms.” He reminds you, his head tilting towards yours. “Do you want to do that?”

You nod, “that sounds like a plan. I’m sure this one needs a nap after everything.” You say, reaching out to caress the kid’s ear. He coos at you and finishes his broth with a loud slurp. “Let’s find somewhere.” You say and throw some credits down for the broth. Din nods and you’re soon following him into the inn nearby. You are eager for a shower and some time out of the heavy beskar. Despite wearing it since you were a kid, you have always been weighed down by it. Din gets two rooms and you nod at him when he carries the now sleeping child into the room.

The child’s eyes never open, making Din chuckle quietly as he closes the pod and sets it in the corner of the room. Looking around to make sure the windows are covered before he reaches up and unlatches the edge of his helmet and groans quietly when he pulls it off his head. His hair is sweaty, but immediately the scent of the outside world is much more vivid. Making him inhale deeply and growl quietly at how good it all smells. Being an alpha as a Mandalorian was tricky, his own scent blocked by the helmet, but others could smell him. Making things difficult for him at times, especially when he cannot even walk around his own ship with his helmet unsealed because you are with him. Now, he sits on the edge of the bed, with his eyes closed and breathes deep, unaware that the vent between your two rooms has not been closed. 

You hum as you tilt your head under the water. An actual shower instead of the ‘fresher on the ship is a welcome surprise. You don’t realize the vent in your room is open so Din can smell you as your omega scent wafts through the room, warmed up from the shower and the water flowing onto your face blocks you from smelling Din.

It’s subtle at first. A teasing waft that caresses his nose and makes his cock twitch. The beautiful, heady scent of an omega. Making him groan quietly until the next wave hits him. His omega. The scent overwhelms him and he’s immediately hard, aching and desperate to claim the omega who is meant to be his mate. His mate. His eyes widen when he sees the vent opened, called to it as he follows the scent. It’s the vent that connects your room to his. You’re his mate.

You can feel a tugging in your stomach when you step out of the shower and you frown, wondering if you’re going to go into heat soon. You’ll need to get some more suppressants since you don’t have the time to spend days nesting while you are with Din. He doesn’t want you to be a needy omega holding him back from his quest. You dry off, shutting the door to the bathroom behind you and you lay down on the bed, unable to stop your hand from snaking down to rub your clit, a whimper escaping your lips.

Din snaps the vent closed. Hand curling into a fist as he pants against the shared wall. You’re his mate, his omega. His mind whirls as he tries to reconcile that new information with the stalwart and steady Mandalorian he has been bounty hunting with. He won’t deny that he wondered about fucking you before, it’s only natural that he would given how close you had been. His cock throbs as he imagines you in your armor, slowly stripping it off and walking around your room nude. Building a nest and begging him to join you. “Fuck.” He hisses.

You fall asleep naked on the bed after making yourself cum, relieving the ache in your stomach, enjoying being out of your beskar. You sleep until there’s a knock on the door and you groan, waking up and immediately grabbing your helmet to slide it onto your head. “It’s time to go.” Din says and you call out, “no problem. I’ll get ready and be right out.”

You redress in your beskar, your stomach still aching but you decide you’ll seek out some suppressants later. Opening the door, you find Din standing there with the kid. “Morning buddy.” You coo to the child and look up at Din who looks tense. “Everything okay?” You ask him, tilting your helmet. 

You know that Din can be all business but there’s something off about him. You ignore it and follow Din down the hall to find the sailors who are granting you passage on their boat to find the Mandalorians that are apparently on the planet. Later on, you admire the water as the raft moves along, glancing at Din who is stiff, well, stiffer than normal. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask softly, the sailors moving around behind you.

“Let me go!” You growl in anger, swinging your arm to fling a sailor into the water. Using your strength to try and untangle yourself from the ropes when Din and the child are in danger and that’s when they appear: the Mandalorians.

The redhead who introduced herself as Bo Katan shakes her head. “I’ve heard of your sect of the religion but Maker…I didn’t know how far it went in controlling its followers. On Mandalore, we wish for alphas and omegas to find their mate, it makes for stronger bonds, stronger families. We don’t - that is not something we dictate.” You swallow harshly as her words, feeling a tugging in your stomach that makes you want to lean towards Din but you push that aside. “You can remove your helmet and you would not be dar'manda.” Bo Katan explains and you’re so tempted.

Din stands up, angry at them for tempting him, tempting you. He shakes his head. “You are not mandalorian.” He growls, reaching down and takes your arm to pull you to your feet. “We are leaving.” He tells you, turning and striding away from the group angrily. 

You let Din guide you out of the cantina and you sigh, “Din. Slow down. Maybe…maybe they are telling the truth. As Mandalorians, we are denying our biological need. We are denying nature itself. Why? What- what good is it?” You ask him, the child in the pouch nestled against his hip.

“What good is it?” Din stops and spins around, crowding you slightly and even though you cannot smell it, pheromones pour off of him in heavy waves. All this talk of mates and finding out you are his has him desperate to claim you. To take what is his. “The Creed. That is what good it is. Our secrecy is our survival. We. Do. Not. Remove. Our. Helmets.” 

You shake your helmet, stumbling back away from him. “I do not want to breed with whomever the armorer tells me to. I want to find my mate. I want to feel complete.” You yell, quickly flicking the lock to your helmet and you waste no time lifting it off of your head in public for the first time since you were twelve. It hits you immediately. His scent. He’s an alpha. Your alpha. “You- oh Maker. Alpha.” You address him, your stomach twisting with sudden need for him.

Din hisses, his body jerking at the tone of your voice, the submissive nature of it. Calling to him. His hands curl into fists and he moves, shielding you from any eyes that could possibly see your face. “Put your helmet on.” He demands roughly, knowing that he cannot do this right now. He cannot have this conversation with you in the middle of a spaceport. 

Your lower lip trembles, feeling the rejection, and you shove your helmet back on your head, flicking the lock and his scent is replaced with fresh air through the filter. “Clearly you do not wish to have me as your omega so I am going to go back to the cantina. Perhaps another alpha can help with my heat.” You didn’t get a chance to pick up suppressants and the scent of your alpha has your stomach twisting with the sudden heat, the urge to mate and be claimed by him has you sweating already. You need to be touched and as much as you wish for it to be him, it’s obvious that he doesn’t want that. You spin on your heel before he can answer to make your way back into the cantina.

Growling, Din watches you walk off. Sighing when he knows he cannot follow you. The child is still beside him, looking up and cooing at him as if to tell him that he had fucked up. “Come on kid.” He grunts, turning and walking away from you even though his entire body is screaming to follow you. “I need to find someone to watch you.” He knows he cannot have a conversation with you around the kid, around anyone. He needs to find another room, then he will bring you back for a talk. 

You want to take off your helmet and down a spotchka or five, but Din’s command to not remove your helmet is ringing in your ears. You sit at the bar when you feel a presence next to you. “What’s a Mandalorian omega doing all alone?” He asks and you snort, “I haven’t got an alpha.” You state despite your chest aching, knowing you have an alpha but he doesn’t want you. On your walk to the cantina, you realized that Din didn’t question being your alpha. Which means he must’ve taken his helmet off at some point and found out. You wonder how long he’s known. Why he had kept it from you. “That’s good news for me, sweetheart. I’ve never been with a Mandalorian before and it smells like you might be needing an alpha at any moment.” He says, leaning closer and your stomach pangs with the beginning of a heat. 

“I- I ran out of suppressants.” You confess, turning towards him despite everything in you wanting to run to find Din.

The Frog Lady had agreed to watch the baby, leaving Din to go back to the little inn where you had stayed last night and get another room. He knows that he owes you a conversation, a real conversation and he cannot do that in public. Once he has the key, Din tucks it into his belt and sets off for the cantina. He knows you are angry at him, hurt. He wants to give you time to cool down for a moment, to think rationally again. To remember your creed so both of you can agree that nothing will happen until you can find the armorer again and speak with her. Striding confidently towards the seedy little bar, he is sure that it would work. 

You giggle when the alpha leans in, telling you a joke about Jawas and you are distracted for a moment from talking about your heat. He offers to buy you a drink but you decline, not wanting to take your helmet off, but it’s nice to talk to someone without them just giving you a grunt as an answer. You unconsciously lean closer to the alpha, your body heated as your biological need threatens to overwhelm you.

Walking into the bar, Din unlocks his helmet, unsealing it so he can smell you. Attraction and arousal, pouring from you and he follows the scent. Finding you sitting at the bar, another alpha leaning in, obviously interested in touching you, fucking you. The need to protect you roars to life in his chest and his alpha nature  rips through his self control. Moving quickly to you, barely resisting the urge to pull his blaster on the cocksure alpha who is grinning at his mate. “Get the fuck away from her.” He growls, shoving between the two of you and puffing up his chest, towering over the other man and trying to be as intimidating as possible.

You gasp at Din’s sudden appearance and you stand up from your stool. “Alpha.” You place your hand on Din’s chest plate to keep him back from the other alpha. 

“Hey buddy. Me and this omega were talking.” The alpha says and you wince under your helmet, knowing that he needs to shut up before he gets a blaster in the face. 

“Din, just leave him.” You huff, pissed that he is dictating what you can and can’t do.

“My omega.” Din growls, his hand inches away from his blaster and he stares hard at the man from behind his visor. “Move away.” He warns but the man scoffs and doesn’t look impressed. 

“She doesn’t seem taken. She seems like she’s real interested in getting to know me. ‘Bout to go into heat, needs an alpha buried in her cunt, knotting her.”

His words make you wince as you know Din, any alpha, wouldn’t allow them to speak about their omega that way. “It’s obvious you haven’t claimed her. What’s wrong, Mando? Not got the balls to do what needs to be done. She doesn’t smell like you. She smells wet. She smells ready for a cock. Clearly you aren’t enough for her. She wants to get fucked.” The alpha smirks, pushing Din’s buttons even more.

Din’s hand shoots out, wrapping it around the other alpha’s throat and squeezing harshly. Enjoying the way his pheromones immediately turned to ones of distress and his eyes bulge while his blue skin turns purple as the airways are cut off by the pressure of Din’s hand. “My omega.” Din rasps out, voice dangerously low and threatening. “Mine. Not yours. Mine.” The urge to kill him is clouding his thoughts, to demonstrate that you are his. That he would protect you.

“Alpha. Alpha. Don’t. He’s not worth it. I’m yours. I’m yours.” You promise Din, knowing that fact deep within your bones but you’re still furious with him. You place your hands on his chest plate, your helmet tilted towards his, “please. Just take me back to the inn. Don’t do this.”

Slowly, Din relaxes his fingers and lets go. Getting immense satisfaction when the other alpha gasps for air and immediately grabs his throat. He grabs your hands and ducks his shoulder down, hauling you over his shoulder like he would a bounty. Ignoring your shrieks as he storms out of the cantina with you.

You are shocked that Din is carrying you back to the inn and, you can admit to yourself, turned on by the primal display. "Din. Put me down!" You demand but he ignores you until he's in front of the room he had gotten for you. Finally putting you down. "I can't believe you did that." You shake your helmet and he opens the door.

 "Inside." He demands and you obey him immediately, stepping into the room. Din steps into the room, letting the door close and locking it behind him. “You were going to let him touch you?” He demands, pissed off that you were searching for someone, despite the fact that he had not immediately claimed you.

You feel defiant now despite being alone with your alpha. "I was. I am going into heat. If you didn’t touch me, I needed to find another alpha to satisfy my needs." You declare despite knowing that no one would give you what you need from Din. 

“You’ve worked through heats before.” Din growls, remembering how he had heard your whimpering cries from your bunk as you used your toys. It had been hard to deal with, when he hadn’t known he was your alpha. Wanting to offer you his cock the entire time, but he had respected your need for privacy. “Why not this time?”

“Because - because I wanted to feel wanted. I wanted someone to touch me who wanted to touch me, to make me feel something. I know you already knew I was your omega. You weren’t shocked when I found out you were my alpha. You didn’t - you didn’t sound surprised at all. How long have you known?” You ask, crossing your arms.

He leans back from you, surprised that you are attacking him and not liking it. “I-“ he huffs, rolling his eyes under his helmet and sighs. “Yesterday.” He admits quietly. “The vents between our rooms weren't closed. I-I smelled you when I took my helmet off.”

You are placated when you find out it was only yesterday but you’re still hurt that he didn’t tell you. “I didn’t smell you yesterday. I - I was showering and I -” You frown under the helmet. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

“I- we-“ Din shakes his head. “You know what Mandalorians do.” He reasons with you. “The Armorer aligns breeding partners. I-“ He bites his lip under his helmet and sighs. “I was going to ask the Armorer for you, to be paired with you when we find them again.”

You understand where he is coming from but you feel frustrated by him. "Din. We - we are mates. What we have is...it's more than the creed. It's more than just breeding. It's how it is supposed to be. It's primal and raw. We are mates. Destined for each other and you've been by my side for so long yet neither of us knew what the other was meant to be. I want - I want you. I need you. Fuck the creed. Fuck the Armorer. You're my alpha and I - I want you. No matter what the consequences are." You say, "but if you don't want that - want me - I will leave. I'll go back to the covert and you can finish your quest alone."

He wants to argue against your comments, his heart twisting when he hears you say you would walk away. “Always wanted you.” He confesses quietly, breathing deeply and soaking in your scent. “Since the second week together. Watching you wipe the floor with that Twi.” He snorts, smirking slightly under his helmet. “Wanted you all the time.”

You chuckle, remembering that fight when you were both so much younger. You step towards him, "I have always wanted you. Always imagined you when I was in my nest." You confess softly, "I think I knew, unconsciously, that I was yours."

“I thought about you a lot.” Din confesses, taking a deep breath as he remembers what Bo Katan had said about mates being able to reveal their faces to each other. He takes a deep breath and reaches up to slowly start sliding his helmet off.

Your eyes widen under your helmet as Din exposes his face to you and you get your first look at his handsome face. "Maker. You are -" You can see him tense with anxiety and you reach up with your gloved hand to cup his cheek. "Mesh'la." You tell him, unable to tear your eyes away from those beautiful brown eyes. "Do you - you can remove my helmet...if you want."

He’s proud that you find him appealing. His one glimpse of you too fleeting for his own liking, finding you mesh’la as well. “I want to see you, omega.” He hums as he slowly reaches for your helmet. “My omega. My mate.”

You’re nervous for him to fully look at you without your helmets on, and your heart pounds beneath your chest plate. You bite your lip when your eyes meet his without the pixelated visor screen and his brown eyes soften. “Din. Alpha.” You murmur, watching him as he stares at you.

“Mesh’la.” He murmurs softly, staring into your eyes and feeling his cock harden beneath his flight suit as he smells and sees you clearly for the first time. He groans your name. “Omega.”

You ache for him, your heat curling in your stomach, and you wonder what he wants, if he still wants to wait until you return to the covert. “I don’t know what you want from me right now. Do you want us to put our helmets back on and continue on like this never happened until we return to the Armorer?” You ask, a little breathless.

“I cannot pretend I haven’t seen your face, smelled you.” Din groans, his eyes nearly closing in pain when a wave of arousal drifts over him. “I- you’re mine.” He growls again. “You are going into heat, I will take care of you.”

You whimper at his words, your body starting to get overheated with need. “Alpha.” You gasp, starting to work on removing your beskar, needing to feel the air on your hot skin. “I need you.” You pant, efficiently stripping down until you’re in your bra band and panties, boots kicked aside and you slide your hand into your panties, needing to rub your clit for some relief.

“Omega.” He growls, body tense and he steps forward, his need to touch you and take care of you nearly overwhelming his rational sense. He is about to touch you, still completely dressed in his armor except for his helmet. When he sees his gloves, he stops. “Get on the bed.” He orders, starting to strip down himself. Needing to press his skin to yours. “I will make sure you don’t need your fingers. You can have mine.”

You obey his order, shifting to lay down on the bed after reluctantly pulling your fingers out of your panties, and you watch him strip off. “Alpha. You are - you’re mesh’la.” You say, sitting up on your elbows to watch him, seeing the scars from blasters that grazed the vulnerable spots in his beskar and you want to kiss every one of them.

His own groan is one of pride and need, seeing you squirming on the bed, waiting for him. His omega, needy and wet. His hand wraps around his cock and he slowly starts to jerk himself. “You are mesh’la, cyar’ika.” He hums, eyes dark and full of lust. The waves of need and want roll off of you and mix with his own desire to fill the room. “My sweet little, omega. Wanting my cock, needing my knot.”

His voice, unmodulated, makes you shiver, and you watch him with wide eyes. “Yours, alpha.” You promise, reaching behind you to unclip your bra band, tossing it onto the floor to expose your tits to his gaze as he pumps his cock. You are aching for him. “Please. Alpha. I need your touch.”

He’s heard it before. The needy begging and calling to his alpha, but never from his mate. Growling, he scrambles onto the bed, one hand grabbing your breast while the other rips your panties off effortlessly.

You cry out in satisfaction as he quickly pushes two thick digits inside of you. “Yesss.” You hiss, feeling the ache assuage slightly with his digits curling deep inside of you. “Fuck, Din. Alpha. Yes.” You whine, tilting your head towards his.

It will be the first time he’s kissed anyone and it’s fitting that it’s his mate. His lips come crashing down against yours roughly as he curls his fingers inside you. Unskilled, he relies on what he had imagined doing, watching holo vids and jerking off when he was alone in his bunk. His tongue pushing into your mouth when you moan and he makes a feral sound of pleasure of his own.

You moan into his mouth, tangling your tongue with his and it’s unskilled but passionate. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging slightly and you feel his cock twitch against your thigh. You’ve both had sex before, neither of you have kissed and it’s clumsy but you soon get the hang of it.

He feels like he doesn’t want to ever stop kissing you. Pumping his fingers deep inside your quivering cunt, he groans and rocks his hips against your belly. Loving how eagerly you respond to me.

You pant into his mouth, getting closer to orgasm with the way his fingers pump into you. "Alpha. I'm gonna- you're gonna make me - fuck!" You cry into his mouth as you clamp down on his digits, the ache in your belly satiated for a moment.

The first orgasm from his omega nearly makes him cum untouched. Din moans your name as he works you through the way your walls clench and your juices soak his hand. Pleasured pheromones pour off of you and he ducks his head down to press his tongue to your scent gland.

Feeling his tongue on your scent gland has you whining his name and your nails dig into his back, wanting him to bite you but he won’t until he’s ready. “I need you inside of me. Please, alpha.” You beg, gently pushing him off of you so you can shift onto your hands and knees for him.

Din growls, loving the submissive display, looking at your dripping cunt as you move to your hands and knees. Showing him how badly you need him. “My omega is eager.” He groans, slapping your ass and squeezing your hips as he throbs. He knows this first time will be rough. You know it too. Taking his cock on his hand, he shuffles forward and notches it at your entrance. Hissing when he snaps his hips forward ruthlessly and buries himself deep in your cunt.

Your breath is immediately pushed from your lungs and you gasp as he stretches you out. You fall forward onto your elbows and squeeze your eyes shut as he doesn’t hesitate to start moving inside of you. It’s rough and your body feels like it’s on fire. “Yes! Oh fuck, yes! Alpha. I- shit.” You curse, cunt fluttering around his cock.

You’re perfect around him. Gloriously tight and taking every harsh thrust with a choked moan as he starts to hammer into you. Need and the instinct to give you every piece of himself has him gripping your hips like you might get away from him and rocking deep to push up against your womb.

You grip the sheets beneath you, your cheek pressed against them as he pushes into you over and over again. “Fuck. Oh fuck Din.” You pant, thighs starting to shake as he pushes you closer and closer to orgasm with every harsh rock of his hips.

Suddenly, Din stops. Circling his hips as he lifts your and grinds into you. He was going to cum and he wants to make sure that you are satisfied before he gives into any of his own needs. “Fuck, omega, you are so perfect.” He grunts out, panting as he feels you squeeze him. “Are you going to be a good girl and take my knot? Let me breed you one day?”

You whine, deep from your throat. “Yesss. I’ll let you- have as many as you want, alpha. I want to be good for you. Want you to be happy.” You pant, thighs shaking still as he grinds deep and his hand spreads wide until his thumb is pressing against your clit.

“Good girl.” He growls out, twitching inside you. He’s imagined breeding you before, many times, even before knowing you were his omega. Hoping that working with you would cause the armorer to place you together to breed. It was why he let you on his ship. “Fuck, I- you feel so good ‘mega. So fucking tight around my cock.”

Your nails dig into the sheets and you are desperate for him to make you cum. The fire in your belly is burning and sweat beads on your forehead. “Alpha. Please.” You whine, grinding yourself back onto him. “I need - need to cum. It burns.” You almost sob with need.

“It’s okay,” he coos, rubbing your clit as he starts rocking into you again. “Your alpha is going to take care of you. Make sure your little cunt is happy by the time you leave this bed.”

You grind back onto him, his hips still not moving as he rubs your clit, and you practically sob with relief when you cum. Clamping down on his cock, you moan his name, his designation, and soak him. “Yessss.” You hiss, thighs violating shaking as you ride your high.

“Fuck.” He groans, his hands tightening on you as he feels you cum around him. “It’s so good, cyar’ika. My omega.”

You slump into the sheets, the burning dissipating for a moment so you can catch your breath and Din’s fingers dig into your hips. “Alpha. Maker, I need - I want you to knot me. Please. Fuck me hard.” You beg breathlessly.

“Yes, yes, my ‘mega can take it.” He growls proudly. “Take my cock and beg for more.” As he starts to thrust harder, it feels like he’s going to beat the bed through the wall, knocking the headboard against the panel with a loud clang every time he pushes deep.

“I can take it. I want more. Always want more. Please baby. Fuck me. Fuck me harder, Alpha.” You demand, your hands coming out to stop yourself from being squashed against the headboard.

He wants to bite you, to mark you as his even though no one would ever see your marks except him. His secret claim on you under your armor. His hisses out your name and manages to increase his frantic pace. “Fuck, fuck, Dank ferik.”

You whine his name, “Alpha. Oh Maker. You - it’s - oh shit. Shit. Shit.” You wail as you cum again, clamping down on his cock and gushing around him, feeling his knot starting to catch and you know he’s close. “Cum. Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, reaching back to touch his hand on your hip.

Din collapses on top of you, Pushing you down to the bed, hips never stopping as he drives into you again and again. Fucking you into the bed as if that was his singular focus in life. “Gonna, gonna cum.” He grunts out, warning you. “K-knot you.”

“Do it. Fuck, I need it. Need it, Alpha.” You beg and he pushes deep just as his knot catches, his seed painting your walls with spurt after spurt. You whine in pleasure, feeling satisfied and you tilt your neck. “Make me yours, Din.”

The audible pop of his knot slipping into you releases a feral growl from deep in his chest. Unable to stop himself, his face turns towards your neck and his teeth sink into your scent gland. Marking you as his irrevocably.

You cum again from the pleasure of being tamed and from him knotting you. You sigh into the sheets when Din licks the mark he left on your skin. “I love you.” You confess, “even before I found out you’re my alpha. I’ve always loved you.” You confess with your eyes closed.

Din sighs softly and even though he could not pull away from you because of his knot, he wraps his arms around you to keep you close. “I had hoped the armorer would pair us together.” He confesses quietly. “That's why I let you join my crew.”

He shifts onto his side and you curl back into his chest, “whatever happens…it’s you and me and the kid. Even if we have to leave the covert. I would like to keep you, to keep you safe.” You promise him and he leans in to nuzzle your neck.

“Kar’ta.” He murmurs, feeling like he is complete for the first time since his nature was revealed. His other half is in his arms and he wants nothing more than to keep you there. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome.” He whispers softly, wondering if you will repeat the wedding vows back to him. “Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

You smile and squeeze his forearm. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome. Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” You repeat back, turning your head to look at him, “riduur.” You whisper, kissing his jaw, “my riduur.”

“Riduur.” His spouse. You are married to him now, his - both by your nature and by your religion. “I will keep you and the child safe.” He vows, his hand sliding down to your stomach. “And any who follow.”

You kiss his lips softly, smiling against him as you place your hand over his on your stomach. “We will face whatever we need to face together. My riduur. My alpha. And when we are ready, I’ll happily have your children. Maybe we can settle on Navarro. Get a little cottage and live a peaceful life together.” You vocalize the dream you’ve had for years.

“That would be good.” He knows that it might never happen, but he wishes for it. “First we must finish our quest.” He hopes to find the armorer again and have you declared a clan of three. It will take some time, but you have time. Both of you have implants to prevent a child and his knotted cock twitches inside you as he thinks about filling you with his baby.

“Finish the quest.” You agree, “then we have the rest of our lives together. I love you, Din Djarin. My alpha.” You murmur, kissing his jaw again. “Whatever happens, we will face it together as mates. As partners.” You promise, unsure of the road ahead but you will be together, connected as one, and you will ensure the child’s safety. This is the way.

[xxsycamore]

OFFICE ACTIVITIES

╰┈➤ ❝ That's why I can't go on with my day before I do this to you. I need to see you squirt on my fingers, and I need it now. ❞

Roy Mustang x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Office Sex; Secret Workplace Relationship; Semi-Public Sex; risky sex; Desk Sex; Sexual Fantasy; Dirty Talk; a lot of dirty talk; Teasing; Kink Negotiation; Glove Kink; ROY'S GLOVES; you know where they're going; Hand & Finger Kink; Finger Sucking; mouth fucking (w fingers); Begging; Praise Kink; Pet Names; Roy is both rough and very loving; Female Ejaculation; Squirting; and i mean SQUIRTING; squirting is the main focus of this fic; Vaginal Fingering; Multiple Orgasms; Overstimulation; Masturbation; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Kissing; Neck Kissing; Aftercare; Some Humor; Light Dom/sub; Dominant Roy; Dacryphilia • wordcount: 5,211 • masterlist

"Colonel, you wanted to see me—"

"Lock the door."

Blinking, you look at Roy's silhouette where he remains with his back to you in his chair, facing the windows of the sunlit office. You do a small bow while complying like a good subordinate, even when he won't see it, and lock the door from the inside. Still, you can't help but let out a small sigh. The pile of paperwork on his desk is bigger than what you saw this morning, when you expected to find it at least halved by now. But alas. And while everyone is away taking care of their own duties, you have the office to yourselves today, so locking the door is hardly necessary…

"With all due respect Colonel, you really, really don't have to hide the fact that I'm helping you with paperwork. I'm sure everyone knows by now."

Roy spins in his chair bossily, raising a hand to signal he doesn't want to hear more. "I'm not going to ask you to do that."

"No, seriously, it's okay, I-"

"Come here."

You do as told, ready to take the load he'll hand you from another pile, or something else to be taken care of in his stead, anything, really. He's in the habit of procrastinating often, you know your Colonel well. There is something almost endearing about it, when he doesn't realize how bad he is at masking it.

He's gesturing you to stand not in front of his desk but rather to join his side, and you do, finding yourself close enough to notice even how the irritation colors his gaze to make it fiercer. Once you're where he summoned you, Roy removes the folder he was holding in his lap and throws it on the desk.

This tricks you into thinking that the folder is the object of importance in this exchange. When your eyes shift to those of the Colonel for further cues as to what is wanted of you, your attention is inevitably stolen.

Roy's blue uniform trousers are tented with an obvious erection.

Face heating up, you quickly close your slightly agape mouth and try to look anywhere else, and disastrously you meet his gaze. Judging by the way he does nothing to hide the fact that he has a noticeable hard-on, or by the way he looks you right in the eye, you have the feeling that you'll get to live another day. Then he speaks again.

"I can't work like that."

His tone is stern, not even a whisper; something akin to one of his less-straightforward orders that would see him click his tongue when failed to comprehend by the other party.

And you don't want to disappoint.

"I understand. You can't work like that indeed, Colonel…"

And you do understand. If he went this far, then that's all you need to understand that you're allowed to lower your guard now.

It's all so natural with you when Roy beckons you into his lap, and you don't lose time maneuvering yourself because you've claimed this seat dozens of times already; your Colonel has a high sex drive. Despite being lovers after work hours, he still needs you during the day, when you're stuck playing this game of pretend. Or maybe that part is exactly what entices him?

Claiming his lips for an impatient kiss, you can't help the small grunt that escapes your throat as soon as Roy's hands begin roaming and foundling about your chest.

The worst part, you never get used to this.

With color on your cheeks, you try your hardest not to hump his leg and miss entirely the point of your being summoned here. You place another chaste kiss on his lips, boldly taking the decision of when enough is enough as you nudge things forward. Undoing the first button of his uniform, you make place for your lips to touch the heated skin underneath. To feel his hot pulse under your tongue as you place kitten licks there.

Roy's curiosity leaves him enjoying the show as you find your footing again, removing yourself from his lap and instead sinking to your knees with a thud. Your hands make their way downward on his torso and then fall on his thighs, his clothed arousal right in front of you.

"You should've told me sooner, Colonel… I could sneak under your desk, I could even stay there while you attempt to take care of those documents… With the way I'm hidden, surely the door doesn't even need to be locked."

You time your suggestion with palming the tent of his trousers, eager to feel how your words get to his head. But he only smirks.

"As much as I feel compelled, no."

It leaves you confused as you stand between Roy's legs. It's rare for him to refuse a blowjob, the balance of powers in this game of teasing is once again off in favor of his striking dominance.

"On the desk. Now."

Pulse quickening, you find your head clouded when you rise to your feet again. Roy all but backs you onto the desk with his body, your legs parting to make space for him in between.

His backlit frame only highlights the darkness of his eyes as he has you cornered; you prop yourself up on your elbows and wait for something, anything.

"You know, you're the reason I can't do my work right now. I've been thinking about you again. About fingering you."

Fuck. This close up, you're sure he can observe even the tiniest of bodily reactions he rips out of you with words alone. The slight twitching of your leg, the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you realize you're at fault for his hard-on. The expectation in your wide eyes that are pleading him to share the images birthed by his brilliant mind that led to this.

"That's why I can't go on with my day before I do this to you. I need to see you squirt on my fingers, and I need it now."

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you swear you can feel the blood pumping in your veins turn to liquid fire as you burn from the inside. Something deep in your belly awakens, steals your resolve and fills your mind with cries of hunger.

Roy wants to make you squirt; to send your body into tremors overpowering your very control of it until you're helpless and making a mess of his hand, of possibly everything - the thought is almost scary, for reasons unknown to you, and you shiver. The signals your brain unwittingly sends south make you feel a certain pressure rooted deep within your core - as if, almost by his spoken command alone, your body can obey and leak arousal through the layers of clothing that you want gone now.

And so you begin to undress, making him chuckle with your impatience. He meets your hands halfway and easily takes over with his much steadier ones, unshaken by building lust unlike you - even if his firm erection which is now pressing against your thigh says otherwise.

He mutters something about how much easier this process would be if you were wearing a miniskirt right now and not those troublesome uniform pants - and the distraction returns some blood to your head as you exaggerate a sigh followed by a tiny laughter. It makes the task of taking off your uniform jacket and unbuttoning your shirt easier.

Unlike the hushed pace of removing the article of clothing, Roy noticeably slows down while peeling the underwear off your lower half, enjoying how he renders you naked and completely on display before him. He pokes a firm index finger on your glistening folds to part them, and you can see his gaze clouding with desire as he inspects the wetness seeping from your core.

Before you can avert your eyes, he locks his with yours. The gentle caress of his warm palm on your belly right over your womb startles you.

"Do you think you can do this for me?"

The whine coming from deep in your throat surprises you, and you feel as if you can get off on this simple, chaste sensation alone. Your pussy throbs in neglect.

"Please."

Roy mocks you just a little bit with his laughter for receiving pleas in place of an answer. Even if it works just about alright with him.

Instead of feeling his fingertips returning to your folds, upon withdrawing, you hear a desk drawer opening. Willing your heart to take the chance and relax, your eyes follow Roy's ministrations as much as they can. He takes something from the drawer and - to your utter surprise, it's a new pair of white pyrotex gloves.

Your legs twitch in a manner of closing, instinctively, as you stare at Roy confused.

"Don't play coy now, I know you've always wanted this. You can't take your eyes off my hands when I'm wearing those."

You puffer your bottom lip, defeated. He's way too observant. Or you're way too horny when it comes to this, to him. Especially now that the only thing you can call the display of his fingers pushing their way inside to find their designated places, vain at the back of his hand protruding, ministrations rougher and rushed because he's not touch you right now, is simply pornographic. They look so good on him, stressing the deftness and length of his beautiful fingers, the flame alchemy transmutation circles at the back stark red to remind they're no ordinary gloves.

"But… isn't this…"

"Dangerous? You think I'd put you in danger?"

There's irony in that line when it comes out of the mouth of Roy Mustang putting on the gloves that give him the name of the Flame Alchemist, but you can will your brain into pushing through the surface to see the offering of trust here. Especially because he is so dangerous is that line so delightful, stroking the trust of your heart that would let him do everything, anything to you.

Combined with his touch returning to caress your skin, this time on the inside of your thigh, you genuinely relax - but only for a second, because you're now busy trying to commit to memory every second of feeling the texture of his gloves on your naked, sensitive skin.

"Besides… I thought you love to say that they're useless when wet."

. . . . .

"Pfft—"

"Are you laughing now?" Roy's eyebrow arches as he stares you down, one part genuine disappointment, one part overemphasis as he knows you'll only laugh harder at his reaction. And laughter is a good balm for relieving the nervousness that made your belly noticeably tense up and cave into itself.

His thoughtfulness goes mostly unnoticed as your laughter quickly morphs into another whine as Roy's glove-clad hand brushes against your arousal. The touch is feather-light, yet when looking down you can unmistakably see the glistening juices on the tip of his middle finger where he used it to swipe along the slit of your pussy.

"Have you fantasized about this before?"

Roy is awful for ending most of what he says with the curve of a question, giving tasks to your brain that are a little too hard to take on. He drives your mind to a place inside the darkest nooks and corners of your perverse imagination where you see yourself stealing his gloves to masturbate with. Or where he's letting out his frustrations on you, you being dragged in an ally just meters away from where some bastard managed to run away from him, tarnishing his plans. You love how he fights but manages to never get his hands dirty. Being dragged to these dangerous missions that give you the chance to see him in action never fails to mix pure, incontrollable desire with the adrenaline running through your veins.

"Yes…" You confess in a tiny voice, and Roy rewards you with another barely-there touch, even if it aims not to bring you pleasure but to simply coat his fingers in your juices and prepare them for penetration. Roy raises them up for you to see. You're already wetter than when you'd finish fingering yourself to the thought of him, and it makes your face red with embarrassment.

"How unfair. I remember being way more concrete when sharing what goes in my mind than you, just now. But I will allow it… you seem to have a hard time forming coherent words right now."

Your brain goes haywire with the rising expectation of feeling him either on your clit or inside you first - the seconds stretching out endlessly before he finally makes his attack, the tip of his middle finger rubbing the tense muscles of your entrance.

Roy is careful as he pushes his finger in, having a good idea about the impact of this long-awaited exploration of the material of the gloves in your most sensitive place.

You're erratic, body spasming to suck him in deeper and pelvic arching to scratch the itch you have deep inside. The fabric adds a delicious layer of thickness to his already girthy finger, but…

"Not- enough— More…!"

Roy clicks his tongue. "You're way too impatient. I'm already being so generous to you, pushing my fingers inside you to give you what you want. Perhaps you can learn from a little exercise before we continue."

Roy's finger exits your heat roughly, in vivid contrast to how he entered you, bringing forth more wetness that helplessly leaks on the office desk. You exhale heavily in defeat, pleading Roy with a wet gaze. He remains unwavering, like training a dog that refuses to obey, and raises his other, dry hand to your face with fingers stretched forward.

The little cute tilt of your head has him letting out a mocking sneaker, and he suppresses the need to scold you for needing verbal orders as well.

"Suck."

Following every little twitching of your pupils as your eyes get hazed with the desire to worship him, Roy is not sure if your mouth falls open to moan or to take him in first. Either way, his fingertips already register the softness of your lips, even through the texture of the glove.

You part your lips further with the intention to fit two of his fingers in your mouth, and Roy allows it. Your tongue explores them, tracing over the seam running down the sides, then the junction of his index and middle fingers. You suck there, barely remembering to look Roy in the eye like you wanted to instead of remaining with your eyes closed in bliss.

He looks… aroused. With how much composure he possesses, the thought of how, in turn, you might look right now scares you. But you can't do anything about it - this, too, is a major fantasy of yours. And it only gets better.

Withdrawing with a wet pop, next you hope to fit another finger in, if Roy is willing to bring them closer together, and he quickly gets the idea.

This is his left hand that he uses to do this to your mouth, and he is still so very skillful with it. He tricks you into thinking you could do whatever you want with his three fingers in your mouth, but as soon as you lower your guard, Roy shifts their position, grabbing your tongue.

Your eyes widen, pathetically trying to call out to him in the one moment your ability to speak is stolen. Roy enjoys the muffled sound that resembles his name and continues to hold out your tongue between his fingers, watching you begin to droll.

From there on it's easy for him to shift his fingers once more, placing them flat against your wet tongue before gathering them together again…and beginning to slide them on your tongue.

The place between your legs is burning, and it feels like torture when you already know what it feels like when he pleasures you. You'd much rather he didn't touch you there at all before this, inner walls contracting to chase after the faint memory of his single digit's shape where it was buried inside you.

Roy fucks your mouth with his gloved fingers, and you moan around them. It's a filthy display, with your cunt dripping on his desk, and he can't avert his gaze for a second.

"Enjoying yourself? Maybe I can keep doing this until you cum and we end things here?"

Alerted, you want to communicate your wish to go all the way with what he planned for you, and to speak you need to withdraw - but the second you lean back, Roy's hand pushes forward, following your movement without letting you escape.

Just before you can choke, Roy removes his fingers from your mouth, and you see how much they're covered in your saliva. The risk did things to you you're unwilling to admit.

"Okay, I get it. You need more."

Finally able to take mouthfuls of oxygen again, you feel silly for being so worked up and breathless from just this. But Roy likes what he sees, especially when you try to present your cunt better for him, spreading your legs further apart.

"You're absolutely leaking…"

"Colonel, Please…" You beg, attaching the honorific to your pleas because you know the effect it has on him. "Colonel Mustang, please fuck me with your fingers. Make me squirt."

He returns his right hand to the burning skin of the apex of your thighs, tracing along your outer lips with a small hum.

"Okay then. Let's make your cunt squirt for me."

You throw your head back a second too quickly, as the heavenly feeling of Roy entering you again domineers over the bits of decency left in you. His finger bottoms out in you, swirls around until his palm is facing downwards, and is taken out again - just for you to instead feel the tips of middle and ring fingers prodding your hole next, in the same position.

"Nghh—" You groan, remembering to breathe as Roy explores your tight insides. You begin to relax, and the movement of his fingers gradually becomes smoother. The wet sounds of his entry come to your ears every time he pushes out the way out and pushes in again, and they embarrass you a little.

After a good few strokes like this, Roy turns his hand around.

He keeps his fingers buried deep inside, unmoving save for his fingertips that begin to search around, prodding into your front wall, looking for that spongy part inside you that will make you see stars.

More heat rushes to your lower body and you let a particularly loud gasp when Roy finds it. He mutters a word of self-satisfaction and repeats the motion, hitting your G-spot.

The pleasure begins to build with a dangerous speed, and you barely contain your moans. There's still something missing, but if you receive it right now, it will be too much.

Roy knows your body and its limits well. He doesn't force the pleasure on you, and keeps a steady but slow pace. Monitoring your sweet sounds, he is careful as to when to move on to the next step.

"I'm going to touch you here next."

Narrating his ministrations, he manages to make you focus. You fix your position on the desk again, making sure to watch what he's doing.

Roy puts the thumb of his left hand flat on your clit. At first, the mere presence of it is enough to send sparks of stimulation deep inside you, creating a loop of pleasure with where his fingers are buried, but you get used to it quickly. Then, he begins to rub your aroused nub, and you go erratic once again.

"Ahh— Too much-"

"Shh, I got you." He gives you a break, simply resting his thumb there without caressing, while he focuses on thrusting his fingers in and out.

Your heavy breaths are entangling with needy moans as the pleasure builds, this damned feeling of not enough threatening to eat you up from the inside. Roy knows your body well in combination with masterfully reading your reactions, and generously gives you more when you ask for it. The balls of your feet press harder into the surface of the desk near the very edge of it, your torso lifting just a little bit, to chase after Roy's movements inside you. He lets you rock back into his fingers, more wetness coming out and lubricating his entry.

"I'm going to speed up now. Tell me if you need to stop."

You breathe heavily through your nose, nodding your head more times than he needs for confirmation, and it makes him chuckle. The corners of his lips don't stay curled for longer than a second because of his growing concentration.

The rubbing on your clit returns, and Roy's fingers don't slow down. Standing there with nowhere to escape but to receive his rough, filthy yet loving pleasuring, you grip the edge of the desk behind your back preparing yourself, as it builds up.

"Roy- it feels a bit strange—"

"In a good way? Like you wanna go?"

Your answer comes a bit late because your mouth is stuck falling open in the face of those unfamiliar sensations. You hurry to blurt it out before stops, god forbid.

"In a very good way…! Just please, don’t stop!"

Not needing to be told twice, Roy keeps the pace, firmly hitting that same spot inside you with his fingers while rubbing on your clit. He watches your body spasm as you let out a scream, and then it happens.

Liquid begins to stream out of you, coating Roy's fingers - a small flow at first, before you all but hear the sound of a squirt escaping you.

"Mmm…" Roy grunts at the sight and the feeling of you closing up from the inside on him, fingering you through it until your body begins twitching too much. Careful not to overstimulate you, he withdraws your fingers, causing a smaller squirt to flow out.

Breathing heavily with your mouth open, you close your legs a little bit now that Roy's hands aren't between them, and you look at the puddle next to them. When you return your gaze to Roy, he's looking straight at you, leaning in for a kiss.

He's definitely not kissing you enough during all of this, but you don't feel too cocky right now to complain about that. Not when his kiss feels so rewarding.

"My good girl. I knew you could do it. Did that feel good?"

Roy drinks down your small noises of lingering satisfaction, and you whisper a breathless 'yes' before kissing him yet again. It makes you a bit too distracted, and you almost jump at the feeling of his hands parting your legs again.

"Think you could do it again?"

You look at him in disbelief, but it might be directed at yourself and the ridiculously deepening arousal you feel more than anything, your core pulsing in anticipation, aching to feel Roy's fingers again.

He knows that look. Pecking your lips with his once again, he slips his fingers in.

"Put your hands around my neck."

Your heart leaps at the command and you shift your body, grabbing into him for purchase. Your ass is on the edge of the desk now, and you're holding Roy for dear life, his broad shoulders being your anchor.

"Will it be easier for you this time, hmm? You're nice and open for me."

"Roy… don't say things like that…"

"But it's true. I love knowing that I can make your body soft and pliant, letting me do such a naughty thing with it."

You groan and shove your head in the junction of his neck and shoulder, warming the skin with your breath.

"Don't hide. Come on, kiss me."

It's easier said than done, when the sensation of what is happening between your legs rules over every coherent part of your mind. Roy knows your kiss would be lacking and sloppy, and maybe that's exactly why he wants it.

His tongue shoves between your agape lips, dominating yet another part of you as he continues to finger you while avoiding the place that is swollen and needy for his touch, as if testing if you can start leaking juices again even without the stimulation.

The strange feeling builds again, and this time you're not afraid of it. You break the kiss to plead.

"Roy…Roy! Touch me more! Now!"

Hearing the low rumble laced with dark wanton deep in his throat, you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he begins stroking your clit again.

Your moans of his name grow from encouraging to warning, as you feel the water balloon deep in your core close to popping once again. And then it happens.

Large portions of liquid fall noisily to the floor, mixing up with the sound of water squirting out of your body. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as a purely physiological reaction, the pleasure playing a big part in it.

Roy's large palm is so warm as it moves up and down whole, unlike how he'd only move his fingers earlier, and you feel played like an instrument; like you're close to witnessing the true strength in him that you lustfully admire finally inflicted on your body - in the most perverse, but loving and safe kind of ways.

"Gods— I can't tear my eyes off of you. Look at you."

Planting his forehead against yours, your eyes trail from his beautiful lashes up close to the place he's admiring, and you have to fight a surge of embarrassment. This is what he made out of you, you're so very his in this moment.

"Roy…—Ahh-"

He speeds up again, not having left your core for a moment, and you feel yourself starting to do it all over again, even if it's more of a current flowing out of you instead of the earlier powerful jets. What builds up inside you is different this time, a feeling you know all too well, something that you were lingering along the surface of for the past few minutes but that was always pushed to the back of your nerves in the face of the new, unfamiliar sensations.

"Come for me. Come on my fingers."

Roy fingers you silly, your walls clamping down on him as he does it just the way you love, no tricks this time to conquer your body, he just gives it to you. And you take it oh so willingly and greedily.

It takes no time for you to reach the heavens, and you moan out his name once again, feeling the electricity of an orgasm surge through every nook and corner of your being, toes curling in pleasure.

Roy holds you through it, making sure you ride your high all the way. Towards the end of it, your leaking hole begins helplessly pushing out more liquid.

"Roy— Too much—Roy-"

"Fuck." He curses as he slowly withdraws his fingers, noticing how thickly they're covered in your warm juices all the way down his palm. He enters you with one finger to tease just a little, meeting no resistance. "Fuck." He repeats as he reaches down to palm his bulge. He moves to his belt and begins undoing it in a hurry.

Pulse beginning to drum in your ears, you continue holding onto his tall frame as your eyes widen. Just how worked up did that make him? You figure he must be painfully hard by now, watching you perform the one thing that would get him erect relying on fantasies alone.

Wrapping the hand dripping with your juices around his cock, he uses the slick to lubricate his pumps as he pleasures himself at the sight of you. It lights a new fire inside you and you can't help but watch; the reddened head of his cock, the vein running down his side protruding with the rush of blood, and his culmination dragging closer.

He lies you back down on the desk and you place your hands below your hips, opening up more for him, so Roy can get a nice view of your still swollen lips and pulsing hole. He moves in closer, bringing his strokes so close to your pussy that it makes you clench down so hard when he accidentally brushes the tip against your inner thigh.

"You're perfect. So perfect for me- Haah—"

You rarely hear him let out more than a grunt, a man in control of himself even in the face of consuming wanton. It's rewarding, knowing that it's you who turned him into that. There's nothing more that you want right now than to watch him spill all over your spent cunt, coating it with his warm cum.

Roy keeps stroking, and you wonder if he's fallen prey to the heightened stimulation of the gloves too, seeing that he didn’t bother to take them off even after making use of the juices coating them. It could be this that works him to orgasm so soon, or it could be everything else combined with it, but you soon hear the familiar sounds of him losing control.

In the next moment he erupts, hot-white pleasure reaching to his very gaze as you see him taking in the sight of you hungrily. Warm ropes of cum land on you one after another as Roy pumps his cock, the swollen tip kissing your sensitive folds.

He loses the inner fight and presses forwards, pushing the bulbous head of his cock inside you, moaning as another gush of semen leaves him and fills you with scorching warmth.

You mewl at the unexpected contact, shudders of pleasure rippling through your body as you continue to feel his cum even after he removes his cock from inside you. You feel it drip out thickly, mixing with the rest of the mess left by your passionate session.

"Kiss me, Roy!"

"So demanding…" Hurrying to comply with your weak, adorable command, Roy seals your lips with his before you can scold or bite him. With how good he seemed to be making you feel, he's not too worried about facing those protests, though.

You and Roy remain like that for awhile, catching your breaths but losing them right anew in passionate kisses, not breaking off the contact even as he tucks himself back in his trousers and readjusts his messed-up clothes, removing his gloves as well. He tells you to wait for him as he goes to take something to clean you off with, but you just cling harder to his frame.

"Stay a little longer…"

He exaggerates a sigh but still smiles stupidly against your nape.

The late morning sun has nothing on the warmth that comes from Roy's embrace, and you bask in it.

"You know…" He begins, playing idly with your hand with his now bare one, as if he had started missing the direct touch so soon. You hum in question, and he continues.

"I want to take care of those documents even less now."

"…ROY!"

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[bird-in-the-space]

Knights of Cybertron (Part 1)

You were one of the training apprentices of the Knights of Cybertron. They took you in as a foundling after finding you orphaned on their doorstep, and you lived a good childhood under their care, even though you were regarded with caution by the Autobots due to your connection to the Decepticon leader. Things changed when the Decepticon uprising occurred, and you traveled to Earth with your two friends.

(Author's note: Watched the transformers animated series since it's been forever since I last seen it. 1 and 2 seasons were excellent. The third season felt a bit rushed, not gonna lie. Otherwise, pretty good series. Anyway, it gave me some new fic ideas. I reused some of my own characters. I couldn't come up with a better title. )

Warnings: some mentions of the war, some prejudice against you, the knights being good, technically being an orphan, some characters being rule breakers, reader being in a relationship, and some stuff being made up by me.

---------------------------------------------

- You don’t remember much of your childhood before the war. You were raised in the knight monastery after its end, and the monastery is all you have ever known, honestly. 

- You were taken in as a foundling by the Knights of Cybertron, an ancient order that has existed before and after the war, preserving Cybertron’s ancient histories and culture. They followed no political views, and studied history and the way of the blade. 

- You lived a fairly good childhood. Your mentor and parental figure did their best to raise you. They told you how your carrier had unfortunately passed away during the end days of the war, and how you were found at the steps of the monastery. 

- As it would have been impossible for sparklings to be born during wartime, you were most likely born before the war and then put into stasis, to be woken up at the end of the war. It was not an unusual method to preserve the future generations, so that was most likely what happened to you. 

- Hearing about your carrier's fate left you sad, but you accepted it. However, during your childhood, when Cybertron was in the state of rebuilding. You noticed the Autobots looking at you in a way, some with skepticism, and some with fear, like they had seen a ghost. It was strange. 

- Then came a day when the Autobots came to your mentor and other knights about something. You don’t remember everything they discussed, but you had a feeling that it had something to do with you. When they left, your mentor revealed why they came and the reason why they gave you strange looks. 

- It was because of your sire. He was a bad kind of bot who did many terrible things. He was someone responsible for the Great War. 

- You wanted to know who your sire was, but your mentor promised to tell you once you were older. 

- You accepted your mentor’s promise. However, after the Autobots left, you began seeing someone from the Elite Guard at the monastery, observing you. You tried asking once, but the bot simply said he was there to see the foundlings' progress and told you to pretend he was never there. 

- You found it strange, especially when the bot seemingly observed you most, but eventually you grew used to the bot’s presence and nearly forgot about the whole thing. 

- When you grew out of your sparklinghood, your mentor finally revealed who your sire was and why the Autobots sent someone to monitor you. 

- Your sire was the famed Decepticon leader Megatron, who was exiled from Cybertron after the Autobots’ victory in the Great War. Your carrier likely tried to fetch you from stasis so you would not have been left behind, but was ambushed and gravely injured. As a last resort, your carrier left you on the doorstep of the knights to keep you safe from the Autobots, since the Knights of Cybertron did not believe in condemning sparklings for the actions of their parents. 

- When the Autobots realized who you were, they attempted to take you into their custody due to who your sire was. However, your mentor and the other knights defended you, making a deal with the Council that you would be raised under the virtues and principles of the Knights of Cybertron. 

- Though reluctant, the Council agreed to the deal, partly because they did not dare go against such an important order. They conditioned that they would monitor your growth progress and that your future would be solely bound to the Knights of Cybertron. 

- They suggested keeping your parentage a secret, but your mentor claimed you were entitled to know the truth. 

- It was a lot to take in, but everything that happened in your childhood finally made sense. 

- You should have probably felt angry over such unusual conditions, and that the Autobots saw you for who your sire was, but you honestly didn’t. 

- You understood history and that wars are often fought between groups with different ideals. Your carrier had been an unfortunate casualty of war, and your sire had been exiled when it happened, so there was nothing he could have done about it. You also understood the Autobots' views, even though their fear of you turning out like your sire was slightly over the top, and they were somewhat prejudiced against the Decepticons.

- On the contrary, knowing the truth helped you find a newfound appreciation for your mentor and the other knights. Despite knowing who your sire was, the knights still took you in and defended you from being wrongfully condemned. They raised you like you were one of their own. 

- You expressed your appreciation and gratitude to your mentor. Your sire might be alive and somewhere, but he was a stranger to you. Your mentor, on the other hand, had been your closest family. 

- Your mentor was glad that you were able to take the truth well, though they did not doubt it. Even if your sire was Megatron, you had always been a gentle and soft-spoken bot. 

- After that, you were allowed to begin your training for knighthood. The Autobot who had been there to monitor you and was present at the revelation returned to the Council, sharing how there would be no need for further monitoring since you knew the truth and had willingly chosen to become a knight. 

- Even though that bot had been there to watch you, you two actually became good friends over the cycles and kept in touch. 

- You trained diligently, finding your way around the sword and blade under your mentor’s guidance. You studied history and old traditions and eventually became one of the most respected senior apprentices. 

- During the first years of your training, you met someone special. 

- Since the Knight’s reappearance on Cybertron, to form deeper bonds, the different cities of Cybertron send students to represent them and become knights. One of those students was a femme bot by the name Goldwing. She was a member of the Predacons, an ancient Cybertronian beast race who had reappeared after centuries and had begun to integrate back into Cybertron’s society. 

- They were regarded with respect and fear as they turned into powerful creatures capable of flying and breathing flames. They also held lost cultures and were known as fierce warriors. 

- You found Goldwing fascinating, as she was the first Predacon you’ve seen. The two of you started talking and became friends. It turned out that the Autobots and Predacons were slightly at odds with each other, so some bots treated them poorly or with fear. You didn’t, as you found them fascinating — partly because you were a half-beast former from your carrier’s side.

- Eventually, you became quite fond of each other. Although Goldwing could be intimidating with others, she had a gentle side, and she considered you a golden spark for your kind nature. The two of you began courting, as it was not prohibited among the knights.

- Your mentor and the other knights were happy for you. They had been aware of your crush and felt glad you finally mustered to courage to ask Goldwing for courtship. 

-Some cycles later, you met a young bot named Lyra. 

- Apparently, she had anger issues and a bad habit of not following rules, so as a last resort, she had been sent to the knight monastery to be trained as a knight. It was not unusual for the Council to send young troublemakers to become knights, either to straighten them out or because some bots saw potential in them.

- At first, she looked disinterested and was snappy toward others, but when you two started talking, she opened up quite a lot about herself. 

- The reason she had trouble following the rules was that she viewed some of them as unfair, which easily got her worked up. She also does not tolerate unfairness toward others. Recently, her brother Optimus, a cadet in the Elite Guard Academy, was kicked out due to an incident. She had a feeling something else had happened, and that her dear, good brother willingly took the blame.

-The Autobots' high-ups grew tired of her wildness, so they sent her to the monastery. She partly did it because someone she respected asked her to at least try.

- You empathized with her situation. Then, she asked what had sent you to the monastery.

-You decided to tell her you had lived in the monastery as a foundling. She thought you were an orphan, so you decided to tell her who your sire was.

- She didn’t believe it at first, claiming you were too kind to come from an evil warlord. You were even nicer than some Autobots.

- She had quite the shock when she realized you weren’t joking.

-You two then became friends. Lyra kinda just latched onto you, and you unintentionally became responsible for her training. Despite the rumors, you found her free, passionate spirit refreshing.

-She did not have severe anger issues like others believed. She was just passionate, and you admit that some rules set by the Council were flawed.

-You introduced her to Goldwing, who took a liking to her, and the three of you became an unusual trio of friends. Though it kind of felt like you and Goldwing had unofficial parental duties, with Lyra as the gremlin sparkling.

- Things went alright. You neared the end of your training, and Lyra started taking knighthood more seriously.

- Things began to change when the Autobot Elite Guard informed the public about the Decepticons. 

- Apparently, Decepticons had been seen on a distant organic planet called Earth, and the uprising had caused the Autobot Elite Guard to be stretched out. Overwhelmed with tasks, they reached out to the knights for assistance. 

- The Knights' principles prevented you from taking sides in war, so you were strictly neutral. However, small tasks like catching dangerous criminals or assisting those in need were not beyond the knights’ rules.

-It also provided opportunities to evaluate what you had learned and your possibilities to take the maturity exam to become full-fledged knights.

-For the first time, you were even allowed a task that would take you off Cybertron. You were assigned to search for a dangerous criminal hidden on Earth. 

- You departed with Goldwing and Lyra, who heard that her brother Optimus was stationed on the planet with his own team, and made your course toward Earth. 

[mysunfreckle]

I've talked before about how The History of Sir Charles Grandison is the one novel we know Catherine has read before she is introduced to the Gothic novels, but now I've got to vent some feelings about John Thorpes literary tastes.

He says that Radcliffe's novels are "amusing enough" (without knowing which books she actually wrote) but he explicitly states: "Novels are all so full of nonsense and stuff; there has not been a tolerably decent one come out since Tom Jones, except The Monk;" Now I doubt the significance of these books is anything new to people who study English literature, but finding it out was like a cool Easter egg to me, so I'm gonna blab about it:

At first glance these are excellent books for a guy like Thorpe to brag about liking, because there is basically only one thing that unites them: sexual content. The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding, is a "rake reformed" narrative, while The Monk is a Gothic novel deliberately filled with depravity, ending in eternal damnation. They're completely different kinds of books and regardless of how good they may be, neither ought to be talked up to a nice young lady you've only just been introduced to.

But considering Austen's love for literature, this choice of authors was probably equally deliberate. Just to show off that Thorpe's tastes are incompatible with Catherine's. (And cannot hold a candle to Henry Tilney's, who loves Mrs Radcliffe's novels.) Because...

• Henry Fielding, writer of Tom Jones, was the main literary rival of Samuel Richardson, who wrote Sir Charles Grandison. The latter wrote "Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded", the former responded with the parody "An Apology for the Life of Mrs Shamela Andrews". They were both pioneers of the English novel, but wrote very different types of stories with very different moral tones (x, y). At this point of the novel we already know that Catherine likes Sir Charles Grandison (while Isabella expresses surprise at her being able to get through it), so making Thorpe like Tom Jones feels almost like a wink at the reader.

• Then there's the mention of The Monk, which is even more significant in a story where the two leads love Ann Radcliffe. Because Matthew Gregory Lewis was at least partly inspired by The Mysteries of Udolpho when he began writing The Monk (a), and Ann Radcliffe was so dismayed by the book that she then wrote The Italian in response (b, c). Once again two literary rivals, one that Catherine is a fan of, and one who Thorpe prefers.

It's also notable that despite absolutely being part of the Gothic genre, The Monk is not on Isabella's list of novels to read with Catherine. Which makes it extra silly that my beloved Northanger Abbey (2007) adaptation not only has Catherine read The Monk, but also lets her fantasize about a scene that really really isn't sexy in context.

I do really encourage reading a summary of The Monk if you can stomach the mentions of sexual violence, however. Lewis wrote it when he was 19 and despite its popularity was rather embarrassed about it later in his life. And while it is full of satanic seduction and murder, someone also accidentally elopes with a ghost, which makes up for a lot.