#i do love everyone in the quarry i just have like my sights on them but i love all those guys

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 29

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📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Season three is here!!

The sounds of dry snarling surround us as Rick kneels at the base of the fence, taking a pair of bolt cutters to the wire, snipping it open. Maggie brings her axe down on the skull of the nearest walker with Glenn's help, Dad jamming his knife into another's eyeball just a moment later. The bodies drop into the grass. Rick peels the fence back for us to squeeze through, with his sights on the treeline behind us.

My Dad makes it through first, helping Rick brace the wire apart as the rest of us follow after him, one by one.

I step into the gravelled walkway, suddenly up close and personal with the prison. My fingers tighten around the hilt of my knife, a faint sense of excitement rising from my toes to my scalp. It ain't Buckingham palace, but it sure feels like it. The yard sits just on the other side of the fence, so close yet so far, stretching on for what looks like the length of I'on even know how many soccer fields. The grass is green, green like a pasture on a milk carton. Walkers stumble around, with nothing better to do than bake in the sun. It's kinda beautiful.

"Hurry," Rick's hissing, just as T-Dog and Mouse bring up the rear; the last to slip through. "That's it."

I share a glance with Carl at my side, who's grinning cheesily under the brim of his cowboy hat.

"So cool," He says.

"Okay. That's everyone," His Dad grunts. "Close it up."

They replace the wire door. Glenn jumps in and starts knotting it back together with a spool of red wire.

As he's securing the last loop, a walker crashes into him through the fence. He jumps back just in time. It grabs a handful of nothing, reaching after us as we turn away from it, jogging down the walkway, slow but steady. All the walkers in the field are coming up to the fence to gawk at us, growl at us as we pass by. It's like we're the new guys in town. Are we gonna take all of them out? Can we?

We make our way through the open gate up ahead, gathering in the main gateway area.

The sun beats down on us, sweat slipping down my neck.

"It's perfect," Rick's smiling to himself as we come to a stop behind him. I think he's right. The dirt road we're standing on leads underneath the vehicle gate, all the way up the hill and comes to a stop at another, smaller gate which is open. It's letting the walkers wandering around in the concrete courtyard have free reign of the field. Not good. There's a guard tower on every corner of the yard, overlooking the place. We ain't never had guard towers before. I can see Rick getting all amped up, just like the rest of us. He turns, wielding his machete like a pointer in a class discussion. "If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the field, we can pick off these walkers."

I try to count them. But once I get past ten, I remember it don't matter. We can do anything.

"We can take this place by tonight," He gestures.

No more sleeping in the car with Dad and Mouse, wondering what that noise in the trees was. No more running.

"So, how do we shut the gate?" Herschel starts thinking. I know he don't exactly love sleeping in the cars, neither.

"I'll do it," Glenn offers, squinting against the sun. "You guys can cover me."

Maggie shakes her head. "No. It's a suicide run."

"I'm the fastest. It makes sense."

"If speed mattered, Glenn, we'd be sending Harley in," Rick scoffs, tryna be funny. "She's the fastest."

I know he's only tryna make a point, but I can't help but think there's no bother. I am the fastest. I'm the smallest, I'm the youngest, and I'm the weakest, but I'm also the fastest. They saw how I ran outta camp that night at the quarry, how ain't nobody was able to catch up with me for a good five minutes. Ever since I got those keys at Thanton Memorial, I been wanting to do more.

"Why not?" I ask honestly, even though we've been through this before. "Why can't I help?"

My Dad turns a look on me. "Harley, baby, save it. You know the hospital was different."

"Yeah, but—"

"Mind yer mouth, girl. I said it ain't happenin'."

To soften the blow a little, Glenn adds, "Maybe some other time, you can help, okay? But... not now."

"Not now," Rick agrees. I done asked them so many times to let me help out. I ain't surprised they're brushing me off again. It's what they do whenever Carl does the same thing, but I'on know why. I got two hands. I'm smart. I can help. "No. Harley, you, T, Glenn, Maggie, and Beth can post up along this fence line, draw as many as you can away from me and pop 'em when they get too close."

I suck it up. I got no business arguing with them right now. "Okay. M'sorry."

"That's alright," He placates, before dolling out more instructions to the rest of the group.

Herschel and Carl make for the tower to our left, while Carol and my Dad make for the tower to our right. That leaves Rick standing in front of the main gate, hyping himself up to make a run for the courtyard. It reminds me of the day we crossed that frozen river.

"C'mon, Harley," Glenn grabs my hand, ordering Mouse, "Stay there, boy."

He leads me over to the fence line with the others, where he takes up a position next to me.

"You got your gun?" He checks, as Maggie and Beth start hollering at the walkers behind him.

"Hey, over here!"

"Hey! Hey, come here!"

Nodding, I unholster my small pistol as he holds out his palm to me.

Routinely, I pluck out my hearing aids and hand them over, the silence enveloping me. He stuffs them in his pocket.

'Okay,' He signs, 'Start shooting.'

I click the safety of my pistol off. As I line my sights up with the closest walker on the other side of the fence, I see Rick slipping past the main gate and into the field. If that were me in there, I'd be dodging and weaving 'em just like in a soccer game.

Focus, Harley, I scold myself, pulling the trigger. The lady-walker's cheek explodes onto her shoulder.

When I pull the trigger again, her entire head explodes, limp body collapsing like a sack of sand.

Rick continues making his way up the hill, hauling ass with a slight jog. The walkers around him are dropping like flies. Every chance he almost gets to shoot one down, somebody else does it for him. A crossbow bolt pierces their forehead, a bullet from one of the towers rips through their face, or they're turning their heads, lured the opposite direction as they catch wind of us folk at the fence.

They're pilin' up quickly, now. Quicker than we can shoot 'em down.

It's time to holster my gun, brandishing Merle's knife, instead. Rearing back, I stick the blade into the knee of a walker sidled up to the fence. It wobbles a little, its leg twisting, folding in half under the dead weight. Crouching down, I stab its leaky eye.

Warm, curdled blood spurts up my arm, and it's fucking disgusting, but I pull the blade out and carry on.

Taking down the next walker, I glance up to try and spot Rick. Where is he? Is he alright?

There he is. He's almost there; almost at the gate.

Right then, the ground in front of him is shot to pieces, the pebbles flying all over the place like he's stepped on a mine.

He skids to a stop, looking up at Dad and Carol's tower in scolding. Carol gives a little shrug as she reloads. Whoopsies.

Shaking it off, he finally approaches the gate. He takes the wire in his hands, kicking one of the walkers in the stomach and sending it onto its ass as he drags it closed, hooking some metal clips onto it. Once it's secured, he makes a dash for the closest tower.

He disappears behind the metal door. Thirty seconds later, he appears at the top, waving down to us.

'He made it,' Glenn signs to me, his hands bloodied.

'Are you okay?'

His expression softens. 'I'm okay. Let's finish them off.'

'Let's do it.'

With Rick outta the way, it's easy pickings; shooting ducks in a barrel.

The walkers keep dropping, one by one, sometimes two by two, until there's only one of the bastards left standing.

Everyone holds their fire for a moment, as if we're asking each other, Who wants the honors?

We watch Rick lift his rifle, peering down the scope. It could only be him. We all know that. It takes him only half a second to shoot a bullet into its head, and then its legs give out and it's the last to slump into the grass, leaving the field completely still. We did it.

Glenn hands me back my hearing aids, and the first thing I hear is Carol exclaiming, "Fantastic!"

"Nice work, chicken," Dad praises as they step out of the tower, ruffling my cropped hair.

"I killed five, Daddy," I brag a little bit, sheathing my blade as we make for the main gate. "That's, like, half of ten!"

"I know, I saw. I's thinkin' to myself, 'Is that Jackie Chan Junior down there, or what?'"

"Who the Hell's that?"

Glenn just laughs. "Never mind."

"Are you okay?" Carol asks Lori.

"I haven't felt this good in weeks," She sighs as we enter the field.

Holy shit. I know I said we did, but we actually took the place. We did it. All in the matter of an hour, we went from wasting away on a random highway to having an entire prison yard to ourselves. I chase after Carl as he runs ahead, squealing and holding my arms out, like I want the wind to hug me back. This is more than just cool. This is incredible! It feels like we got the whole world again!

"Oh," Carol laughs from behind us, "We haven't had this much space since we left the farm!"

T-Dog cups his mouth and calls out, "Wuh-hooooooo!"

I copy him, screaming, Wuh-hooooooo!, as I run myself around in circles. "We did it!"

"She's gonna drive herself dizzy," Maggie laughs, "Messin' about like that."

"Let her," Dad says as they walk past me, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"We did it!"

"Mmm," Glenn hums, sucking the meat offa the little bone in his hand. "Just like Mom used to make."

He throws it into the fire, knocking a piece of wood over and sending a flurry of embers floating up into the stars.

It's safe to say I ended up tiring myself out this afternoon. It's strange to be worn out, but not from fighting for my life or because I haven't eaten in days. I'm just a kid who's had too much fun. Sitting next to Carl on an old blanket, I peel off a bit of stringy meat with my teeth and chew it as I gaze out at Rick's small figure in the distance, pacing the courtyard fence line. I ain't sure he had any dinner.

This is it, though. This is the place he was talking about for all them months. It turned out to be real. I wish I could say I never doubted him, but there were some nights I thought we'd be on the run forever. I thought he was just spouting nonsense. There weren't no place for us to live like we wanted to, somewhere for us to call home. The work ain't done yet. We still have to get inside the prison. But with the warm night air sitting around us, and the sky twinkling over our heads, I'm happy to stay like this for just one night, even if Rick ain't. He's been at that fence for what feels like hours. He's like that dog again, sniffing out a bone he can't quite reach, not just yet. I wish he'd rest.

"Tomorrow, we'll put all the bodies together." T-Dog muses, absentmindedly petting Mouse.

I stop watching Rick and remember to swallow my mouthful, going in for another bite.

"Wanna keep them away from the water," He continues. "If we can dig a canal under the fence, we'll have plenty of fresh water."

"The soil is good," Herschel adds. In the light of the fire, I can make out the pinkish burn the sun has left on his face. It reminds me of my own sunburn, but it only stings a little. "We could plant some seed. Grow some tomatoes, soybeans, cucumbers."

"Eugh," Carl mumbles. "Tomatoes..."

Herschel's gaze drifts over to the fence line, then. He seems to remember Rick. "That's his third time around."

Everyone spares the man a glance, but only a glance.

"If there were any part of it compromised, he'd have found it by now."

"This'll be a good place to have the baby," Beth chirps, changing the subject. Rick's always a tricky one. "It's safe."

"The prison or the yard?" Lori jokes, idly cupping her belly. "At this rate, the baby might come tonight."

Wiping the grease from my lips, I muse, "Back in Sharpsburg, my Daddy said ya might let me name the baby."

"Oh, yeah? What would you pick?"

I give a bit of a shrug, taking another bite, 'cause I ain't given it much thought. "Sum' like... Bob."

Glenn humors me, "And if it's a girl?"

"Uhh... Bob...-ette?"

"Sure." T-Dog deadpans, shaking his head and chuckling. "If you want it to hate you for the rest of its life."

I throw my bone into the fire as Lori says, "We'll see."

That's adult language for, Not in a million years.

"Harley?" Carol asks me from across the group. "How's your Dad feeling about being in a place like this?"

I know what she means. A prison.

"I ain't asked him, yet."

She treads carefully when she asks, "It wasn't... It wasn't this prison, right?"

"Nah. He went to Arrendale State Prison." Nobody ever knows where that is, so I add, "It's kinda near Tennessee, I guess."

"Well, at least, there's that," Says T-Dog. "Imagine the world ending, only for you to end up in the same prison again. Woof."

I stick around for a couple more minutes, finishing off some more of the barn owl meat and baked beans, but after a while, I let everyone know I'm gonna go talk to my Dad for a bit. I know if I don't bring him some food, he'll end up going hungry for the night.

"We'll save your spot for you," Glenn tells me, instead of getting up to escort me like he usually does. It's safe here.

Grabbing a bowl of food, I stand from the blanket and cross the field, stepping up to the overturned bus.

I look up. "Uh... Dad?"

His face appears as he leans over the side, meeting my gaze through the dark. "Oh. Hey, babe."

There's a small problem. "How am I gonna get up there?"

"Well, ya climb."

"Oh. Thanks," I mumble, rolling my eyes at that remarkably unhelpful tidbit. I step onto the tyre, grabbing some sort of pipe on the undercarriage, and try to get a good foothold on another piece of metal, but it's too hard. I pull away. "Ugh. Dad. Help."

"I'm only playin'." He chuckles, setting his crossbow aside and laying on his belly. "C'mon. I gotcha."

Reaching down for me, he effortlessly catches me as I jump for his hand, pulling me up next to him.

"There ya go."

"Could'a done that in the first place," I point out, taking a seat by his side. "I brought'cha some dinner."

Bathed in the moonlight, his brow crumples as he frowns, eventually taking the bowl from me. "You ate?"

"Yeah. Makin' sure you get some, too, 'fore T-Dog eats it all."

"Thank you, baby."

"Ya welcome," I shrug, swinging my feet back and forth. "Carol's wonderin' if you're okay, bein' back in a prison and all."

Spooning some food into his mouth, he garbles, "Lady's almost as brown-nosed as Dale was."

"Well... I'm wonderin', too."

Something about my quiet admission gets him to actually answer this time. Swallowing his mouthful, the bump in his throat bobs up and down before he sucks in a big breath and lets it all out again. "I'm fine," He says, "'Sides, we ain't actually inside, yet."

I guess not. "But we will be."

"I said I'm fine, baby." He insists, biting down on a big piece of meat so he can pretend he can't say anything else.

My Dad ain't never talked much about his four and a half years in Arrendale State Prison, but I do know that when he came back, he slept on the porch for nearly a whole month afterwards because he couldn't stand being in his own bedroom. There were a lot of things that were better than they were before he left us. Like how he appreciated every meal, even if it was just a cheese sandwich. How most mornings, I'd wake up to him stroking my hair and just looking at me. But there were a lot of things that were worse. Enough to matter.

I overheard him telling Merle once that the guards used to beat on him extra, because they knew he wouldn't fight back. He had me to get home to. He couldn't afford to fuck up and add more months or years to his sentence. They all used to beat on him.

I don't want Dad to think I see him as a pussy or nothin', so I tell him, "I know. I's just makin' sure."

"I can tell ya what, though," He scoffs, slinging the bone over the fence, "I ain't gon' be sleepin' in no fuckin' cell again."

"I'm sure they got proper bedrooms somewhere in there, right? Like, for the guards?"

Holding back some bitterness, he tells me, "No, chicken. They don't."

"Oh. Well, we can just sleep outside or somethin', then."

"Ain't you been nagging everyone about wantin' a real bed to sleep in?"

Yeah. "But—"

"Well, you're sleepin' inside, then." He decides. "I want'chu to have that."

I want him to have that too, but I ain't gonna win that argument. So, I just agree. "Okay, Daddy. Fine."

"Jesus. We're already hashin' out terms," He jokes, "And we ain't even made it inside the courtyard, yet."

"We're positive thinkers!"

"You definitely are, ya silly monkey." He picks up his crossbow and slings it on, standing up. "C'mon. Let's head back, now."

"Okay. But only 'cause I miss the fire."

He climbs down first and helps me down afterward, catching me and setting me on the grass. We make the walk back together.

"Bethy," Herschel's saying as we approach, "Sing Paddy Reilly for me. I haven't heard that one, I think, since your mother was alive."

Maggie gives him a tense look. "Daddy, not that one. Please."

"Well, uh... How about Partin' Glass?"

My Dad and I sit down on the blanket as Beth shyly protests, "Nobody wants to hear."

"Why not?" Glenn asks, putting on a small smile.

There's no real reason not to, so she gives in. "Okay. Daryl, do you know that one?"

"Yeah." Maggie chirps, some of the sadness that was weighing her face down disappearing. "You can play us through it."

"I can try," He corrects her, before he gets back up and heads over to the cars near the gate, grabbing his guitar from the backseat.

As I notice Carol sending me a questioning look, I feel myself trying not to glare at her. "Don't ask him about it."

Understanding, she nods to herself.

When my Dad returns, he settles the guitar in his lap, looking at Beth.

She only hesitates for a moment or two before she opens her mouth, and the words that come out are some of the prettiest I ever heard. Slowly, my Dad adds a few strokes of the strings here and there, before he starts to get a real feel for it and pieces something real lovely and quaint together, something I think most people wouldn't think he'd ever be able to make, but he's just as gentle with the chords as an artist would be with his canvas and paints. She sings softly about spending her days in good company, memories she can't recall.

T-Dog lays with his arm resting under his head, gazing up at the stars as the melody flows over him.

Lori and Carl sway side to side, Maggie fondly watching her sister as she holds Glenn's hand.

She joins in singing at the passing of the next lyric, and it's obvious they prolly used to do this a lot when they were my age.

Herschel looks into the fire, a picture of peace.

It even lures Rick over from the fence line after a minute or so. He sneaks in while nobody has the opportunity to make a comment about how long he's been over there, sitting next to me and Carl. I pass him some leftovers, too, before he can weasel his way out of it.

"Thanks, honey," He hesitates to say as he takes the bowl, despite himself.

"Good night and joy," The girls duet, "Be with you all. Good night and joy... Be with you all."

Dad strums a chord one last time, finishing the song off.

"Beautiful," Herschel decides.

He sets the guitar on the ground, sending me a fleeting smile.

"Better all turn in," Rick clears his throat, reminding me of where we are. "I'll take first watch. We got a big day tomorrow."

Glenn frowns, "What do you mean?"

"Look, I know getting to this point has been a lotta work," He sighs, looking from one person to the next, studying the exhaustion on their faces. "This was a great win, but we've gotta push just a little bit more. Most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners. It looks like this place fell pretty early. It could mean the supplies are intact. They'd have an infirmary. A kitchen. Commissary."

T-Dog jumps in, asking, "An armory?"

"There'll be one nearby," Dad guesses. "Can't risk havin' it inside, 'case a riot breaks out and some John Doe thinks he's Rambo."

"Makes sense."

"This place could be a gold mine," Rick exclaims.

I can tell he ain't got nobody on the hook with this idea, except maybe Dad, and me. Sure, I'm tired. I'm only eight but I could sleep for the rest of my life. That don't mean I ain't eager as all Hell to see what else this place has for us. Hell, I'd do it tonight.

Herschel is the first to speak up. "We're dangerously low on ammo. We wouldn't even make a dent."

"That's why we have to go in there," He says like it's obvious. "Hand to hand."

Alright. He really weren't kiddin', then. Tomorrow is a big day. Even bigger than this one.

"After all we been through... We can handle it."

Early the next morning, I notice slight movement from across the fire as I'm poking at a tin of leftover beans with a stick.

Carl lifts his head from the blanket, blinking away sleep like a dazed frog. It looks like a coyote came along during the night and got into a brawl with his hair, but I know it's just 'cause he had a good night's rest under the stars, feeling safe. There's nothing like it.

Clicking my fingers at him, I draw his attention.

'Want some breakfast?,' I sign, knowing my hair prolly looks just as messy, even if it's barely longer than his.

Yawning, he stands from the blanket and comes to sit next to me in the grass.

'You kicked me again,' I tell him while we wait for the beans to warm up, the smell of smoke and fresh dirt on the breeze.

'I did?,' He frowns.

'Yeah. In your sleep. I think you broke a bone.'

'That sucks. Put in your—.' He gestures to his ear.

Keeping a little scepticism, I dig into my backpack and fit my hearing aids in.

"What is it?"

"Drama queen," He enjoys saying very loudly into my left ear.

Startled, I smack him away. Ugh. Walked right into that one. "Seriously? You ain't gettin' a single bean, anymore."

He just giggles to himself, sitting back on his palms. He thinks he's a real comedian.

Apparently, by this time tomorrow, we'll all be sat up in one of them cell blocks together, living the life. Looking at the buildings now, I take notice of the giant letters painted onto the sides of the cement walls, the shambling masses of walkers on the ground, unaware of the birds on the fence watching them with stalking eyes, waiting for one to succumb to its weight. I can only imagine what's on the inside.

I'm reminded of Carl when he suddenly contemplates aloud, "Man. I hope it won't be like the CDC."

Turning to look at him, my heart gives a little kick. The CDC? What's he mean?

"Or the farm," He adds, but I'm sure it's not an afterthought.

"It won't be," I say almost forcefully, offended he'd even think that way. "Don't say that, Carl."

"Sorry," He mutters regretfully as he sits upright, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're right. Forget I said that."

I know I should prolly take a page outta my Dad's book at this moment. Whenever there's uncertainty ahead of us, or somethin' awful has happened, he don't spout some empty promise. There might come a day where he's made himself a liar. Instead, he says something like, We'll try our best, or, There's nothin' more we can do. I always find the insignificance comforting. I know as sure as I do that the sun's gonna come up tomorrow, he's telling the truth. You can't be let down when you're dreaming in the dirt to begin with.

I don't think I can bring myself to say them things right now, not after everything we did to get here.

Besides, I'm in the dirt no matter what I say.

"None of that matters." I try and convince him. "Everything's gonna be like we hoped. This is our second chance."

"Third chance," He corrects. "Technically."

"Whatever. Even better. Third time's the charm, ya know."

He turns a suspicious look on me, like I've just done something bizarre. "You're being, like... positive."

"I'm a positive thinker," I tell him, just like I told my Dad last night.

"Since when?"

"Um... Since yesterday. I think."

That makes him giggle. "Okay. But, you need to say something negative. It's weird when you don't."

Obliging, I drawl, "You's a sour-faced scaredy cat, Carl, and I'on like the way you think. Makes me wanna punch yer lights out."

He can't help but let out a snort-laugh. "Thanks."

"Ya welcome." I watch him as he gazes out at the prison buildings for a moment, before I ask, "You believe me, right?"

He glances at me. "Do you believe you?"

I was kinda hoping he would answer first. "Well... Yeah."

"I do, too, then." He says, much to my relief. "Even if you did sound like my Dad just now."

"Who the Hell's burnin' beans this early in the morning?"

Our heads whip in the direction of my Dad's voice. He's sitting up, rubbing at the pink indentations of grass on his neck. Oh, right. The beans. Grabbing the stick, I poke the tin outta the way of the smouldering ash and blow the thin smoke away from it.

It clears, revealing the perfectly saucy, not-burnt beans. The smell draws Mouse from his slumber.

"Uh. Nobody," I quip. "Want some?"

"Nah, babe," He groans, scratching the dog behind his ears. "You have 'em."

"What about me? Do I get some?" Carl asks as I grab a spoon. "I'm sorry I scared you before."

I don't hesitate to pick up a second one, handing it to him. "I'on care. Here."

"Thanks."

Dad frowns at him. "You scared her?"

"Oh, uh. Yeah." The boy admits, sensing he might be in trouble. "I kinda shouted in her ear. It was dumb."

"Ease up on that shit a little," He chides. "And don't let me catch you doin' it."

"Sorry, Daryl."

"I'on care," I reassure Carl again, spooning beans into my mouth. My Dad's just protective. Sometimes, it can feel like I'm less of a daughter and more of a pet, but he's always been like that. Especially after I lost my hearing, and especially when he's stressed.

After everybody else has woken up and the beans are long gone, Rick announces, "Let's do this, then."

The courtyard is just as much a massacre as the field was.

The birds perched onto the fence fly off as soon as the first blood is spilled.

I drive Merle's knife into the walker's rubbery kneecap, twisting it around the bone, feeling some sorta crack, and finishing it off with a stab to the brain when it falls against the fence. Pulling the blade out from between the pink mush and browned skull, I watch them who's inside the courtyard make their way across it in a tight formation, lashing out at any walkers that get too close.

When they make it to the undercover area, all five of them skid to a stop.

They back themselves up against the wall, hiding from the sea of walkers just around the corner.

As they linger there, a couple sets of body armour stumble out from behind a dumpster. Wait, not armour. Walkers wearing armour. The only way to tell are the fingers poking out from under the sleeves, their arms raising as Dad tries shooting a visor.

The bolt ricochets off the plastic, landing somewhere in the piles of trash.

"Hey! Walkers!" Beth shouts, rattling the fence. "Over here! C'mon!"

"Over here!"

"Hey, ugly!" I shout at the walker closest to me, luring it in and stabbing it in the soft part of its knee.

When it falls over, Carl deals the finishing blow with his lead pipe.

"Thanks," I lilt, breathless.

The group realizes they ain't gettin' through that armour. In good old, Hand to hand, fashion, as Rick called it, they start charging at them. My Dad wrestles one up against the wall, grabbing its helmet and ripping it off, rearing back, bludgeoning it into the walker's face until it turns to mush, drops to the ground. Glenn slashes another's neck in two, kicking it away from him in a spray of blood.

When the opportunity strikes, Rick runs for the far gate, pulling it shut and securing it with more clips.

Maggie struggles to keep a big brute offa her, before she drives her knife up its nose.

The walker's blood freckles her face as it falls.

She's completely beaming. "See that?!"

Glenn and T only have a few seconds to be impressed, turning to hack down the next walker that approaches them.

Then, finally, the courtyard falls still.

Letting out a sigh, I sheathe my knife and grip onto the fence, watching the group talk amongst themselves in the wake of all the bodies. They point to a few of them, shake their heads some. I expect them to reconvene with us, but instead, they walk off.

"What's going on?" Lori wonders, as Rick and my Dad very carefully open the door to one of the cell blocks.

After a tense moment, they all creep inside, weapons drawn.

"They would only go in there if they thought it was safe," Herschel reassures us all. "We just have to trust them, and wait."

Carol glances at me and Carl. "You kids okay?"

"Don't worry about me," The boy says, while I just give a simple nod.

The next time the big, red door opens, Maggie appears and jogs over to us, pulling the clips off our gate.

"C'mon, y'all." She drags it open, that beautiful smile still plastered on her sweaty face. "Let's go get our things."

Her Dad asks, "You cleared it?"

She's already halfway down the hill, grinning at us over her shoulder. "We sure did!"

Wearing my backpack and clutching my soccer ball to my stomach, I follow everyone into the cellblock.

The dark, damp-smelling corridor stretches on for a while, lazily opening up to a huge, even damper-smelling room. I come to a stop with everyone else on the concrete platform, peering up at the sickeningly tall ceiling. Bands of sunlight drain in through the barred windows all the way at the top, too far outta reach for me to catch a glimpse of any of the greenery I know is on the other side.

"Nice, right?" Maggie smiles, right before a dead walker body falls from the second storey railing. Eugh.

It lands with a splat, T-Dog taking its ankles into his hands to drag it away.

Definitely no Buckingham Palace, alright, but like I said — Compared to being on the road, it might as well be. 

We continue on into the cell hall, taking it all in as Rick plods down the rusty stairs. "So. What do you think?"

"Home sweet home," Glenn muses.

"Home sweet home," He agrees, stepping onto ground level.

"I love it," I exclaim.

He laughs, his face covered in grime and sweat, but happy; very happy. "I knew you would."

Lori wonders aloud, "It's secure?"

"This cell block is."

Still eager to find out more, I ask him, "What about the rest of the prison, Rick?"

"We'll find the cafeteria and the infirmary in a few hours," He nods, hands on his hips. "Gotta clear the bodies from here, first."

Okay. "Can I choose a cell?"

"Sure, go ahead. S'all yours."

A girly sigh. "We're sleeping in cells—...?"

Behind me, Beth sounds disappointed with the idea, but I don't mind. When ya think about it, a cell is just a bedroom with a funny door. I step into the first one I come across that don't got any walker bodies laying up in it, and sit down on the bare mattress, bouncing on it a little. A smile creeps onto my face. A bed. A real bed. Mouse jumps up next to me, seeming just as pleased with this discovery.

"We did it, Mouse," I mutter happily, setting my things down on the bedside tray. "It's home sweet home."

"Knock, knock," Beth sing-songs, as Carl peeps out from behind her. "Wanna bunk together?"

Nodding straight away, I gasp, "Together-together? All three of us?"

Mouse stares at me with that sweet, empty-brained look of his.

"The four of us, I mean?"

"It'll be like a sleepover." She smiles, placing her blankets on the bed. "One of us will have to take the floor, though."

"I can do it," Carl offers, tryna play the gentleman. Gross. Before Beth can protest, he's scurrying away to grab another mattress.

"You want the top bunk or the bottom bunk, Harley?"

"I want the top bunk," I decide, pulling my blanket outta my backpack and climbing the ladder. Crawling onto the cold mattress, I splay the blanket out and give the limp pillow a few punches and a hearty shake, in an effort to fluff it out a little bit. "Perfect."

Underneath me, Beth exclaims to herself as she sits down, "It's actually— It's actually comfortable."

"Got one," Carl announces as he walks back in, stumbling around with a mattress in his grasp.

"Can you even see around that thing?" I tease.

"Yep," Without much care, he dumps the thing on the ground, proudly dusting his hands off on his hips. "There."

Rick saunters up to the door then, leaning against it as he smirks at us. "What are you guys doin'?"

"This is our cell," I chirp.

He shakes his head. "You kids are ridiculous. Don't you want your own space?"

"Nope," All three of us answer at the same time.

"Let me know how long that lasts," He drawls, looking the cell up and down.

Hopping down from my bunk, I follow him outta the room and climb up the stairs, finding my Dad at the top. He's got two mattresses laying on the floor of the perch, his blanket splayed out across the both of them, crossbow leaning against the wall.

"You find a cell, yet, chicken?" He groans as he reclines on the makeshift bed, tryna get comfortable.

I kneel down beside him. "Yeah, I'm sharin' with Beth and Carl."

"All three of ya?" He quirks a brow. "How's that workin'?"

"Carl's on the floor," I try not to laugh. "It's a bit like the CDC, ain't it? When we first got there?"

"The CDC? Ain't like there's air-conditioning or hot water in this joint," He scoffs. "I ain't so sure."

"There ain't no bombs, neither, so I'll take it." I move to lay down next to him. We both stare up at the ceiling, even though there's nothin' up there, except for a few mishappen stains and scratches, like constellations. "Carl says it's like the CDC, too."

"Did he?"

"And the farm," I add, knocking my boots together. "But not 'cause of the air-con. 'Cause of... everythin' else."

S'true. I lied to Carl, when I pretended everything was gonna be fine. I might got a dirty mouth, but I try not to make a habit of dirtying it with anythin' other than a few swear words, especially not a lie. Third time's the charm. I'on even know what that means.

He turns his head to look at me, frowning the slightest bit through his hair. "You was so excited just yesterday?"

"I know. I still am," I admit, "But—..."

He waits a while for me to continue, but I just end up shrugging. The words are anchored down somewhere, won't come out.

Dad must get my meaning, though. "Harley, there's a whole world out there. If this don't work out, there'll be somewhere else."

"But I like it here."

"I know ya do. You can keep likin' it, too," He pinches my arm, "If ya stop thinkin' about what might happen to it."

"What is gonna happen to it?"

That's a question nobody ever has the answer to, but everybody's always asking it. "I don't know, baby. Maybe nothin'."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

I like that idea. Nothin' happening, ever, except for the sun rising and setting. "That's a lotta time to grow soybeans."

"Huh?"

"Soybeans," I repeat, smiling. "Herschel said last night he wants to grow some. Tomatoes and cucumbers, too."

"There ya go, then. Just think about them."

"Nah. I'll just get hungry."

My Dad sighs for a moment, studying the ceiling, before he props himself up on his elbows. "I'mma get some fresh air for a bit."

"What?"

"Ya heard," He dismisses me, mumbling something to himself as he scoots off the mattress, something about suffocating.

He's only been in here all of five minutes. I watch him pull on his leather vest, grabbing his crossbow and slinging it over his shoulder, very obviously trying not to look at any of the walls around us for too long. I ain't sure how he's gonna make it through the night in here, if he can't even make it through an hour of housewarming, but there's nothing I can do besides keep my mouth shut.

As he plods down the squeaky staircase, somebody else climbs up it, bumping his shoulder.

"You alright, man?" Glenn frowns, hesitating on the next stair up. "Where you going?"

"Outside," He pointedly replies, not looking back.

"Well, I can see that."

"I'm just gonna trail 'round the perimeter for a while."

We listen to his heavy footsteps retreat, retreat, retreat, and then the loud clanging of the metal gate.

After sharing a sympathetic look with me, Glenn continues on without a word, leaving me to get up and retreat back into my cell.

End notes.

I'm so excited for this season! I set aside some time to plan it all out in my notes and I had a lot of fun doing it. It reminded me of the times I was brainstorming for season one.

I hope you enjoyed this introduction to the new season!

Kindly let me know what you thought! See you next time :)

[pythoness94]

I love your commentary on the fanon perception of the party

so id love to ask how you'd think the different members would *actually* react to will coming out to them

also thank you for acknowledging byler fights AREN'T one-sided. they're both love struck teens that say dumb things sometimes and thats perfectly fine

I know! It's a thing that's been bugging me because as i'm writing my fic. ( a react fic with the characters watching the show.) I'm forced to watch scenes upwards of 10 times or more while writing, i've rewatched episodes almost everyday, skipping around back and forth to write the characters reactions. By doing this, I have been able to go "WTF IS DUSTIN DOING IN THIS FIC BRO???". Since i've seen the show probably more then I should have and more often than average it's a lot easier to piece canon from fanon when canon is etched into your brain. I'm able to acknowledge every character's faults because I see it and have to write it down into my story, analyzing how each character would react to each situation. I am, of course, not perfect because i am VERY fond of Mike since see myself in him so i'm more sympathetic to him and i'm trying to be better about that.

However, instead of just seeing them as (this is the worst cases i've seen, mostly in 2020 fanfics.) Mike's a dick,( He's a teen boy who's been getting in terrible situations since he was 14, and trying to process that while realizing he's gay and thinking that he's leading El on. He's scared so he's snapping at the hand that feeds him, not being a dick for no reason. ) Will's a sad gay baby, (He's the same as Mike, 14 and trying to process his trauma, except he was a lot more of it. His best friend is wigging tf out over his girlfriend and distancing himself from him, making Will feel even more alone and worried so he's trying his best to save his relationship by sacrificing himself for Mike's relationship. not realizing that's the EXACT opposite of what Mike needs. He's not JUST sad, he's scared, he's scared of things being taken from him, so he's giving them away first.)

Max is mean, (She just lost her fucking brother, she is trying to grapple with the fact that she doesn't really feel all that bad about losing him. That's what is making her snap. Billy was horrible to her, but she was his brother so she should feel bad, that's her thought process and Vecna is preying upon that. Trying to make her feel like a terrible person infecting everyone around her, so Max is pushing everyone away, making herself look terrible and mean so that way they leave her alone to rot as she thinks she should. She's not mean, she's scared.) Lucas is dumb but strong, ( he played basketball in one season guys. He's strong but he's also a nerd. He's loyal, he's funny, he WANTS to protect the people around him. That's what Lucas is, a protector, he wants to keep his party safe and is trying to be strong for them. Trying to keep everyone together and in his sight. He will lose his shit if ONE more person gets taken from him. He's scared not dumb.)

Dustin is funny, (He's a kid who has lost many things, he's trying to cope with the things happening around him. he thinks Dart is his fault, he knows he should have told the party from the start but instead he lied, and it caused a bunch of pain for his party. He refuses to make that mistake again. However, he knows his party is struggling and he doesn't want to add onto that, so he laughs and jokes, trying to keep the mood up despite how he's panicking. Losing Eddie is going to terrify Dustin. he's going to be quieter and more thoughtful. I know that when Mike inevitably pulls his self-sacrifice bullshit, he does in every season to some extent. Dustin is going to flip his shit, seeing Eddie dying, and refusing to let Mike pull that. Especially since he was there for the quarry, he's going to be protective of Mike, not only because he doesn't want to lose him and knows Mike would GLADY pitch himself in front of a Demogorgon if he saw fit. But because Mike knew Eddie to, he was as close with Eddie has Dustin was and he wants to talk about that with him. He wants to keep Eddie's memory alive, and he can't do it alone. He's not just funny, he's terrified.) El is incapable outside of her superpowers. (This is regarding her knowledge to the outside world, but we're past season 1 guys, she knows how the world works, just not all of it. She won't be asking what things are every five seconds, mostly she'll just SUCK at picking up social cues. She wants to be her own person, she'll do her best to learn this stuff alone as time goes on, trying to advance individually to be on equal grounds with her party. She doesn't want to have to rely on people, she wants to be the person people rely on and not just for her powers. She's not incapable, she's not just 'superman.' she's her own person who is scared of people not seeing her as such.)

One thing i've noticed is that everyone in the party is scared, everyone is scared of something. That something is giving Vecna a chance to prey on every one of them. Making them more scared, so, instead of pushing each other away, they are uniting. They saw how going solo worked out for Max and they refuse to let that happen again. So, keeping all this in mind, how would the party react to Will coming out? Not one of them would be disgusted by Will, confused? Yes, disgusted? no. They have all been the weirdos they have always been the weirdos. The party knows that each of them have something about them that makes them "different" and being gay has always been that for Will even when the party didn't know it to be true.

We all know how Mike would react. A bit shocked at first but accepting, (this is if Mike is straight.) he pushed Troy over in season one for calling Will a fairy, he would NOT be homophobic. That man was besties with Eddie along with Dustin, he embraces that kinda stuff even if he's scared by it. If he was gay (because being fr he is.) he would also be hopeful. He would stop distancing himself so much so he can try to be there for Will.

Max would be chill with it. She is Californian and ,coming from a fellow Californian, it has always been way more liberal than any other state. especially Indiana. Cali is more open to change than most other places and even in the 80's it was less homophobic than Indiana. So Max, being from there, she would be more exposed to it and less shocked. She would be supportive of Will, and if told of his crush, would be the ONLY person to go "Oh really? Mike?" and it would be joking. she would totally try to set them up. (Remember season 3 with the magazines, I like to think she would try to do something similar for Will and Mike.) although she would be a bit worried about El after figuring out their...situation, she would be on board with it after they broke up.

Dustin would be curious, he would be like. "Wait...you're gay?" Not connecting all the dots until he looks back on it and goes. "Ohhhh, that explains why you thought Phoebe cates wasn't hot!" he'd be supportive but wanting to look deeper into it, taking a second to process y'know?

Lucas would be on it immediately, I get the feeling he already knew. He would be like, "Yeah, that makes sense." Since he knew Mike and Will the longest i'm sure he already had it figured out. Lucas is literally just waiting for Mike to get is shit together. He would be supportive and tease Will about his crush on Mike until they got together and them he would tease the both of them.

Finally El, she wouldn't understand Homophobia (this is one of those social cue things I was talking about.) however, I think two things could happen. A being I don't think she would really KNOW that boys can like Boys and Girls can like Girls, so she would be like. "Wait...that can happen?" and then she would need it explained to her. Will would be extremely nervous, because El is Mike's girlfriend but while I think El would be a bit sad if she knew Mike had a crush on Will she would understand that you can't really change that. Also that she doesn't deserve to treated like that and should have someone who loves her. The second thing I could see happening is El going. "So? i like boys too??" and needing Homophobia explained to her, to which she goes. "That's fucking stupid. Mouth breather behavior honestly." and being supportive of Will.

Thank you for the ask by the way! I really wanted to talk about this and I hope you enjoy it!

[now-and-4ever]

OLNF Week Day 3 - Crossover

Hosted by @olnfweek2024

Set during Step 1

Tamarack Baumann had a special connection to the forest. She noticed the little things most people missed. A spot of moss that grew a bit more, a mushroom that wasn't there the other day. She loved these woods and would run around and play in them whenever she could. Today she was on another one of her woodland adventures when she noticed something she had never seen before. It was a bottle cap. Now, trash in the forest wasn't unusual. Too many people didn't care about polluting. What made this cap completely new, however, was the fact that it was moving. Tamarack needed to investigate. She looked more carefully and got an answer to how a bottle cap could move. It was being carried by four tiny creatures with leaves on their heads. Two red ones, a yellow one, and a blue one. Tamarack couldn't help but squeal at the sight of these cute whatever-they-weres! They didn’t notice her. They seemed completely focused on bringing the bottle cap somewhere. Tamarack just had to see where they were going.

Tamarack channeled all of her patience in order to cautiously stalk her quarry through the leaves and sticks. She thought about how this must've seemed like a journey of miles for their little legs. After a few minutes the creatures walked through a bush. Tamarack poked her head through shortly after and her eyes lit up. In a small clearing beyond the bush there were a ton of the same type of creature in many different colors. They were all working together to gather both trash and natural objects. They brought all of it to a central location where there was what looked like a colorful onion on stilts and a toy spaceship. Tamarack also spotted what seemed to be a miniature spaceman. He was guiding the creatures to load their finds into the spaceship. Tamarack looked on in awe until the tiny spaceman’s gaze turned towards her. He jumped and immediately blew into a whistle. The noise made all the creatures stop what they were doing and gather around him.

It was now a standoff. The spaceman observed Tamarack carefully. She was sad that she had scared him. Then she had an idea. Tamarack slowly reached into her bag. She didn't want to make any big movements that would scare the spaceman more. She felt around and finally found what she was looking for. She pulled out a button that had fallen off a jacket of hers months ago, moving her arm with great precision as she brought the button closer to the group of small beings. She gently placed it on the ground and then slowly brought her arm back to her side. The spaceman judged the new object. Then he tossed two of the red creatures at it. They picked it up and safely brought it back to the ship. This seemed to work on releasing the tensions and the creatures got back to work. They no longer minded that Tamarack was watching them. Of course, just sitting there wouldn't do. She would pump her arms in the air and cheer for the little creatures. She gave them some more things from her bag that she wanted to share. Tamarack was their dedicated cheerleader and number one fan. As the sun started setting the spaceman called the creatures back to base. The creatures all got into the onion thing and the spaceman got into his ship. Once everyone was secured both of them blasted off far beyond the tops of the trees.

Tamarack gathered up any trash the creatures couldn't get to the ship in time and then ran home to tell Omi and Opa all about the tiny spaceman who commanded an army to clean up the forest. They nodded along and said it was nice, but Tamarack got the feeling they didn't believe her. It didn't matter though. She knew what she saw and was happy enough to have just had another magical experience in the forest she loved.

—

Olimar's Log: Day 3

I have seen many unusual things in my many trips through space, but what I saw today must be the most outstanding. While I was out with the Pikmin, gathering treasures to help my boss pay off yet another debt he had accrued, I saw a truly massive creature. It was far bigger than even the biggest of creatures I had seen before. Although this creature, instead of hampering my efforts, actually assisted me by delivering treasure to my feet. I am a man of science, but the only explanation I can give for this is one of faith. I believe I was given a divine gift by the goddess of this biosphere. I shall call this deity Bionis. I hope that in the days to come Bionis will watch over me from the heavens and bless me with a safe and speedy completion of my task.

[14dayswithyou]

Have you heard or played this game called "The Quarry"? If so what would Ren be like if he was in that game? I've been hyperfixating over both games and I cant get the crossover out of my mind lol

✦゜ANSWERED: I actually got to play the game with Mon (my (irl) bestie) a while back, and I've had Kaitlyn brainrot ever since uwu

This ask also got long because I have A LOT to say about The Quarry!AU Ren gksdgbjsdgk. Also!! There's going to be spoilers for the actual game! IK it's been out for a while now, but if you ever plan on playing it, maybe skip this ask and come back another time!! <3

Okay!! So! Ren probably told the other councillors that he went to Hackett's Quarry to gain more experience as a music tutor, when in reality, he only joined the stupid program so that he'd get to spend the summer with you.

Would constantly show up to your camp activities with the kids and ask if you needed any help. Mainly because he was free right now and had nothing better to do. (He had to clean the kitchens...)

They would be insanely overprotective of you even if there was no one else around, and it would only get worse if Ren ever gets bitten (read: infected!Nick).

Realistically speaking, the only way Ren could possibly get bitten is by protecting you. Because if he had the choice, this man would literally lock the both of you up in the security room (that he tooootally had no clue about), and would just wait out the night there instead of walking aimlessly around the camp and getting stalked by hunters and werewolves.

I doubt they'd do anything to help the other councillors, and would instead watch them meet their demise through the security cameras.

If you were to witness them meeting their gory demise though, then Ren might put up an act and pretend to care. Maybe press a few buttons and switches in hopes that it'd somehow help them — when in reality, he's just flicking the audio channels on and off.

If you didn't want to camp out in the security room for the entirety of the night, then Ren would be glued to your side and won't ever let you out of his sight.

He'd let you carry the shotgun if it made you feel safer, but wouldn't mind using it himself if you thought that was the better option. Though... he'd probably forget that it was a gun at first and would try to smack the werewolves with the recoil/stock end before realising that, wait, this isn't a sledgehammer? It doesn't work that way?

Ren has seen enough horror movies to be able to put all the (cliché) pieces together, and would probably figure out what was happening by the time you (Abi) push Leon (Nick) into the pool.

Ren would 100% be like, "Oh, they don't like water? Alright then. Cool. C'mon Angel, we're stealing a kayak and sleeping in the middle of the lake tonight ^^ We can look at the stars while we confess our feelings for each other—" "Oh wow MC, you look hot holding a shotgun." "Shut the FUCK up you buff ass RACCOON, I'm having my moment >:(" "Ren, don't be mean to Teo."

If Ren does get infected, then he's just going to be extra clingy and creepy compared to usual. He'd be sniffing you every chance he gets and would try to rub his scent all over you. They'd probably be extra horny because even without being a werewolf, Ren is still very much addicted to your scent.

The real/[REDACTED] side of him would slowly start to surface, and would constantly ask you questions like "who do you love?", "D'you like me?", "No one can protect you like I can.", "You smell s'good. Come closer.", "Need to taste you. Now.", "I want t'be inside you."

Once he fully turns, I'd really like to say that he wouldn't target you simply because his sheer devotion to you would outweigh his animalistic urges. Idk if that's canonically possible in the game, but I'm gonna pretend it is because I can hehe :)

Everyone else is fair game though, especially any of the councillors that got a bit too close to you at the beginning of the season. All the people who tried to be friendly with you? Those who tried to kiss you during that game of Truth or Dare? Yeah, they better start hiding because Ren will be seeking them out.

He probably won't try to interact with you while in his werewolf form because he's afraid of scaring/hurting you, but would instead stalk you around the camp and fend off any other threats that go near your vicinity.

By the time dawn comes, Ren will be seeking you out and ensuring that you're alright. If anyone dared to hurt you while he was occupied with hunting down the other councillors, they'd be dead meat. Especially since they have a shotgun in their possession now :)

[lesceriises]

faceclaimless indie mumu roleplay blog. muses here, but i hate limiting myself so i often create characters for specific plots. all of my characters have aus and i can throw them anywhere at any time.  adored by: elle (25+) keep in mind that i have autism, work a stressful job, and refuse to install tumblr on my phone.

🍒 rules: THIS IS A 18+ ONLY BLOG. mature themes will be present but i don't do pwp. i will block everyone who doesn’t have their age on their blog. anything involving r*pe, improper things involving animals or minors, consanguinity, prejudice, fetishization of ethnicities, and imperialism will be blocked on sight.

everything you need to know is bellow the cut.

🍒 important info: i don't want to stretch myself too thin so i'll keep my circle small however: if i follow you, i want to interact. this is, shamelessly, a shipping-centered blog: my time online is limited and i just want to indulge and have fun HOWEVER 1) not all ships are created equal: some we're just shooting the shit, and others are more long-term. 2) platonic dynamics mean the world to me, there is NOTHING in this world to me like platonic angst and love and i will always be down to write brotps & families. i don't use faceclaims for no reason other than i can't be bothered i want to write and not spend time worrying about gifs etc. i don't have any triggers.

🍒 types of plots and verses i’m interested in: angst, slice of life, exs, pregnancy plots, messy people, based off disney/barbie movies but with some darkness sprinkled in, harry potter, x-men, haunting of hill house, cosmic horror, horror plots in general, the quarry, until dawn, historical plots, modern royalty, historical royalty, the librarians, men in black, star wars, the hunger games, attack on titan, jujutsu kaisen, asoiaf, cliché plots, pregnancy plots, 

🍒  sometimes, i write random starters, and i adore them all even if they they are old, so check them out and give them some love.

that's it. have fun.

[garbage--chan]

I am still absolutely whipped, some warm up sketches and doodles of the boys, based on some cute moments from @gr8pe-soda ‘s fic Let Me Learn You

[the-daily-multi-fandom-post]

Glenns lover girl

 (part 3)

warnings: warnings: Mentions of racism, death, Weapons, weed, affairs, sex jokes,  drugs, drinking, murder, cussing? talks about past abuse that may be triggering Please do not read this if you are triggered by abuse it's not worth it. I promise you.

Taglist: @kaitebugg03 Ask me if you would like to be added to the taglist

word count: 3,190

Summary: Y/n is the younger sister of Daryl Dixon. Y/n was more like her brother Daryl than she was her brother merle. Well, that is unless she's angry. Then she has the mouth and anger of Merle Dixon himself. Y/n first met Gleen at the quarry. That's where there friendship first grew and continued to grow through the post-apocolypes.

The sun was rising over the hills. The sunlight glowed on the tent making it bright in there. Y/n groaned slightly as she pulled her blanket over her head covering her eyes from the sunlight.

Y/n rolled over reaching over for her boyfriend who stayed the night in her tent. But he wasn't there. Y/n jumped up looking for him. He was gone. "Glenn?" Y/n calls out. She slips on her shoes sliding a hoodie over her body as she stepped out of the tent.

"Glenn?" She calls out again. Usually by now one person would be awake by now, but Y/n didn't hear anyone. Y/n started making her way up the hill where she saw the camp infested with walkers. Glenn being eaten alive along with the rest of the group all bitten or turned. Y/n screams as she looks upon her worst nightmare.

Y/n felt her whole body shake, but she was stuck, frozen. "Oh my god." She cries as she falls onto her knees. The walkers walking up towards her. Y/n woke up from her nightmare with a scream. Glenn was trying to shake her awake and finally she woke up.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay it was just a nightmare." Glenn says as he wipes her tears away. "Oh my god, Glenn." Y/n cries as she pulls Glenn to her arms. "You were dead. Everyone was dead and turned." She sobs into his chest. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise." He says as he kisses her forehead, rocking her soothingly. "I'll never leave you." He promises.

Y/n and Glenn got ready for the day. Y/n put on one of Glenn shirts and stuck to his side most of the morning. She was glued to his hip terrified her dream would become real. She didn't tell her brothers about the nightmares. But she gave both of her brothers a tight hug this morning and gave them a kiss on their cheek whispering that she loved them. They both told her they loved her too. Even Merle. He loves his sister, but doesn't show it in this best ways.

"Today were going to the ciry for a run, any volunteers?" Morales asked as they gathered bags together to take with them. "I'll go." Merle, Glenn, Jaqcie, andrea and T-dog all volunteer to go.

Y/n looks up at her boyfriend. A little anxious, but he always comes back to you. "I promised. I will be back." He says kissing her forehead. Y/n gives a tight lipped smile has she hugs him. "Y'all be careful." Y/n says as she hugs her boyfriend. She goes over to Merle and hugs him. "Be careful asshat." She says holding him tightly. "You have a bad dream again I guess." She nodded. "Don't tell Daryl, He'll worry about me and I don't want him to worry." Merle noddeds and agrees with her. "Don't worry about me baby sister. Can't nobody kill Merle Dixon." He proclaims with his arms wide. Y/n smiles and walks away. Off to help the other do chores around the camp. Just another day in the life of the apocolypse.

The day went by slowly. Y/n dreaded every second of that day. Her anxienty was up every minute of that day. She jumped at every little noise. Y/n watched the camp carefully. She had her weapons ready at every moment. She was hanging up laudry when she heard Lori walk off. "I'm gonna go look for more mushrooms. Carl stay in eye sight of Dale." Lori says as she starts to walk off. "You too, stay in shouting range. If you get into any trouble just yell." "Yes mom." She says softly.

Y/n observes as Shane shortly follows behind but going a diffrent route. "Hopes he uses the condoms we got." Y/n says to herself, shaking her head.

As the day went on Y/n starts to prepare lunch for the group. putting some beans in the cast iron pan to heat up over the fire. She feeds everyone, but she doesn't eat. She could'nt, her nerves would allow it. If she ate she would just throw it all up.

"This should help your nerves." Carol says as she hands Y/n a mug of tea. "It's herbal tea, it really does help with anxienty. It's what I drink every morning." Carol says softly.

"Nightmare?" Carol asks as she sits beside Y/n. Y/n looks out at the water and shakes her head. "Is it that obvious?" Y/n asks Carol. "Well, when one of our best and strongest people don't act normal some of us can kinda pick up on it, hun." Carol explains.

"I had a dream that walkers took over camp. I watched as the walkers ate yall alive. I couldn't do anything about it. I just sobbed and fell to my knees. I begged God not to let it be true. To see the kids being torchered. It killed me to see y'all like that. I finally woke up, but just to see that it killed me. I cried I know an half an hour after I woke up. I felt horrible that Glenn had seen me in such a wreck. I try to be strong. I try to be strong for everyone. I try to keep my emotions in check. Put them on the back burner, that way I can help any of y'all when ya need it." Y/n rants as tears dare to spill out of her Y/e/c eyes.

Carol imbraces Y/n into a hug and Y/n excepts it slowly. It felt weird to be imbraced by a woman. She didn't have her mom in her life very long. She died in a house fire. So to be imbraced in the arms of a person she trusted. Y/n just let all the emotions out. She just sobbed into her shoulder.

"Shh." Carol softly shushes as she rocks Y/n in her arms like a child. "It's okay. It'll all be okay in the end." She comforts Y/n.

"I'm sorry." Y/n cries out. Carol shakes her head no. "You don't have to be sorry, Y/n." "I'm weak." Y/n cries. "I can't even hold myself together. Am i even good for the group. Good for him, I'm just damaged goods." Y/n cries.

"What do you mean? You are not damaged goods." Carol says as she leans back pulling Y/n away looking into her eyes. "You can't tell nobody. I don't want anyone to think any diffrent of me." Y/n starts.

"I won't tell a soul." Carol promises holding up her pinking to do a pinky promise. Y/n giggles slightly as she wraps her pinking around Carols sealing the promise.

(Where the story of abuse starts skip until the next note if you would be triggered by abusive and grafic murder.)

"My daddy. He use to beat on us. He would hit me with whatever was in his reach. I've been hit so many times I couldn't even count the scares that I have on my body." Y/n says and instantly Carol finally understands what she meant the other day when she threatened Ed.

"My daddy, he'd put his ciggerates out on my hands or where ever he could reach. I can't even count the number of times I had to go to school with a black eye and just say how I got in a fight with my brothers. He'd use a whip on us. My back is covered in scares from it. I would take blame for what my brothers did, not wanting them beat either. Merle left us. Leaving most of the beatings to Daryl and I." Y/n somewhat regrets telling Carol all this. She feels bad about it. She should've kept her mouth shut.

"I don't want you to feel bad for me. I made that bastard suffer." Y/n says as she wipes her tears away. "May I ask what you did?" Carol asks. Y/n nodded as she smiles. "He hit me for the last time. Broke my arm and fractured my rib. I had enough of the abuse. I was abused for 19 years." Y/n starts. Carol sits there silently allowing Y/n continue at her own pace.

"He was passed out drunk in his chair in the living room. His drink still in his hand and a burnt out ciggerate in the other. All I thought about when I saw him was how he should pay for what he put me and my brothers through. And I just acted. I knew once he was passed out drunk he wouldn't wake up to anything. I tied him down to the chair. Taking extra prcautions. I thought about what to do. I grabbed a baseball bat from the closet. And I cracked it over  his head. And some how it didn't kill him. I beat his whole body with it. I just wanted him to feel the pain he put my brother and I through. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and i just stabbed him. I stabbed him over and over. Making sure he'd be good and dead." Y/n says looking at Carol to see if she would look at her to see if she would look at her any diffrent.

"When I knew he was dead. I called Daryl. He helped me get rid of the body. We threw 'im in the hog pins down the road. We knew that nobody would miss him. He would skip town anyway. What did it matter if my daddy went missing again?" Y/n finshes. "Do you regret it?" Carol asks. "No, I'd do it all over again. That's why I told you if Ed put another hand on you again I'd kill him. I don't have remorst for the wicked."

(End of that part start reading here if you skipped it)

After Y/n pulled herself together and made sure carol was okay after pouring her heart out to the older woman. The day was pretty much over with. The sun would set in a couple hours. Y/n looked around camp searching for the group that left this morning.

"They talked a little bit on the radio earlier. They'll probably be here soon." by the time Lori tells Y/n that they all hear a car alarm.

"What the hell is that?" Shane asks as he looks up at Dale who was sitting on the top of the Rv looking out with the binoculars.

Y/n watches as Glenn pulls up in a bright red Dodge challenger. The alarm blaring loudly. "What the hell were you thinking bringing this thing here? Every damn walker for miles will be here." Shane yells. "Pop the hood please. Pop the dam hood please." Shane says as he opens the hood of the car finding the correct wire on the battery pulling it off. The alarm stops.

"I'm glad you're okay." Y/ns says gratfully as Glenn pulls her into him. "You have no clue." He says breathlessly. "I love you so much." He proclaims giving her a passionate kiss on the lips. "Are you okay were you bit?" Y/n asks, Glenn wasn't really the one for much PDA.

"No, no. Everything is fine. It's just been a long day." He says as he keeps her in the hug. "Where is the rest of them?" Lori asks. "They're right behind me. We have a new guy with us. He saved our lives today." Y/n looks up at him and smiles. Thankful that she was finally in his arms. "but there is something Y'all need to know. That Daryl and Y/n are probably not going to be happy about. Merle was left handcuffed to a roof. He's safe away from the walkers, but he was dangerous. Waving a gun around threatening us. He was high on something.."

By the time he says that the others pull up in a box truck. Everyone got out and joined their families. "The only way we made it out today was because of the new guy. He's a sherriff like you shane." Morales says as he looks back towards the truck. "Come on officer friendly, come meet the group." As Lori was comforting Carl from the lost of his father; Carl happens to turn around.

"Dad!" Carl cries out running towards his father. "Carl, oh my god Carl." Rick his father cries. "Lori." He cries more as he imbracing his family.

They were all enjoying the evening when they heard Carl and Sofia screamed. The group runs towards their screaming. They find a walker eating a deer that had an arrow in it. "Daryls not going to be happy." Y/n thinks to herself as the group of men start beating the walker.

"God, got my damn deer. I've been tracking it for miles." Daryl says as he looks at the walker that had aten half the deer already. "Do you think we can cut the eaten parts off? No need to waste good deer meat." He asks the group. "No, I wouldn't chance it."

They got rid of the walker and the half eaten deer. Daryl hands Y/n a handful of squirrels. "I guess this is what everyone is eating tonight. No deer." Daryl says as he walks off. The group gave Y/n a look practically telling her she should be the one to tell them about Merle. Y/n nods and walks off towards Daryl.

Daryl sits on a lawn chair down by the water. Y/n doesn't say anything as she sits on the ground beside him. Daryl notices his sister, but doesn't say anything. "Some of the group went on a run today in the city." Y/n starts. Daryl looks at her as she speaks. "You go?" Daryl asks as he sharpens his knife on a wet stone. "No, to be honest with you I haven't been in the right head space today." Y/n explained. Daryl nodded and said, "I know, I heard you screaming in your sleep, but I knew Glenn would take care of ya." Daryl says and Y/n looks down at her hands. "Merle was one of them that went on the run today." Daryl looks at Y/n trying to figure out what she is trying to say. "He dead?" Y/n shook her head no.

"He was threatening the group while they were trapped inbetween herds. He was shooting the gun when it was the worst time to. He was trying to hurt everyone in the group. The officer hand cuffed him to a roof. And one of them dropped the keys down the pipe when they fell. I will go with you tomorrow to find him, but at this moment we need to stay calm." Y/n rants quickly fearing her brother would yell at her, not meeting his eyes once.

"Okay, I'm pissed off, but I know it's not your fault and there's no need to cause more chaos in the group." Daryl tells you what you want to hear. You know truly he wants to beat everyones ass. Glenn included. "Just yell, get it over with." Y/n says as she finally met her brothers blue eyes.

"I ain't gonna yell at you. Them maybe just a little bit, but you did nothing wrong here." Y/n just takes her brothers word for it.

The group ate the squirell that Y/n had skinned for the group and that daryl had killed. Y/n ate slowly as she rested her back up against Glenns front. "This is the best damn squirrel I have ever ate." Daryl says looking down at his plate guzzling down his food. "I can't believe I am saying this, but I agree." Lori says, "Y/n knows how to fix it just like mama." Daryl says as he goes to meet Y/ns eyes.

"She was the one that taught me." Y/n says with a tight lipped smile. "Luckly I found the right seasonings." Y/n says giving them a smile.

Everyone ejoyed their meals and slowly one by one left the fire pit area. Y/n slowly got up. Glenn gets up with Y/n. Glenn takes Y/n by the hand and walking her to her tent.

Daryl was sitting out by the fire he made at their small camp at the water. Y/n looks at Daryl and knows he is upset about Merle. Y/n pulls her lawn chair closer to Daryl. And Glenn sits in the other beside Y/n. His hand resting comfortably on Y/ns thigh.

"I'm gonna go out with the group and help y'all find our brother." Y/n says lowly to her brother. Daryl just nods. "You know Merle. Nothing can kill him, that's what he told me this morning. That sneaky bastard will live through anything." Y/n says giving Daryl her comforting smile. Daryl nods. "I know." He aknowledging Y/n. They sit in silents just listening to the sound of the frogs and the crackle of the fire.

As time went on Y/n and Glenn eventually went to Y/ns tent. Y/n changed into clean pjs. (A just an oversize shirt.) She cuddled into Glenns arms just resting.

"Glenn, are you still awake?" Y/n asks as she looks up at Glenn. "yeah." HE whispered looking down at her. "Can I tell you something without you freaking out?" She whispers playing with his fingers that were wrapped around hers. "You aren't pregnant are you?" He jokes. "No." She laughs. "I want to tell you that I love you. Today it just made me realize that I need to tell you that. I thought if things with south today and you got hurt or killed. You would die not knowing how I truly feel for you. And you don't have to say anything back, but I just wanted to tell you that." Glenn smiles at Y/n as he leans down to kiss her. "I love you too." And with that the two just felt so comfortable they fell asleep.

end of part 3

[gaiuswrites]

Original Sin | Darksaber!Din

Pairing: Dark!Din x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ older for the love of all things holy)

Word count: 3.4k~

Summary: Things change after Grogu leaves. People change. No one is exempt.

Warnings/tags: DUB CON?¿, masturbation (m and f), inappopriate use of darksaber, sex toy (...), Dark!Din, Dom!Din, sacrilegious references, really dark shit, i am so sorry

Update: This should go without saying, but as it turns out, it’s in need of being said: every word written in this fic is my own; any likeness to any other work is coincidence, regardless of how bizarre. I don’t mean to offend anyone or raise suspicion, as I am certainly not a plagiarist (literally couldn’t be even if I tried: I am equal parts too incompetent, too busy, and too lazy to steal from someone else. Fellow writers can attest, I’m an absolute garbage reader and fall behind on almost everyone’s work. There’s an embarrassing amount I haven’t read.) Please reach out to me personally if you have any concerns. I respect everyone here like you wouldn’t believe. Sending love to you all. Be well. ✨

Notes: When I go to hell (it really is only a matter of timing, and not so much a question of if anymore), this fic will rank number one on the list of reasons why I’m sent to my eternal timeout. This... I'm twisted. I have issues. God help us. Seriously, this is basically a horror show. I bow down to the Darksaber!Din content creators who came before me, and the original artwork that inspired me to write this— thank you for lighting this (descending, dirty) path. I HAVE TAGGED A FEW PEOPLE HERE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INTERESTED but really— REALLY— there’s absolutely no pressure. Cheers friends x ( gif credit: @skyshipper )

Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!

The days stretch long like morning yawns—hours passing on creaky bones, slow and congealed inside the metal womb of the Crest.

It wasn’t always this way.

They used to be filled with pitter pattering— with wily antics and vanishing acts that could baffle even the most veteran of illusionists— with prying frogs from tiny, green hands and giggling as blocks and baubles floated through the hull. Laughter. There used to be laughter here.

But that was then. The child is gone now. The Razor Crest is quiet.

Time fills itself like this; there’s little for you to do now but wait. Wait for the dusk to blur into the dawn. Wait for your food to cook. Wait for the shower to warm. Wait for the parts you ordered to arrive at the port. Wait for Din to come back—to come home.

Home. You used to be so certain—you’d bite the head off anyone who questioned otherwise— but you’re not so sure this is home anymore. Its not that anything has changed. No, the galley, the carbonite pods, the cockpit, the deck—it’s all still here. The scuffed walls, the durasteel, the littered crates and packed arsenal. But—

It’s different. It feels different. Something is...

off.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. Its intangible, but it’s everywhere—like gas. Invisible to the naked eye, but encircling you all the same. Choking you.

Killing you.

There’s no good explanation for it. You feel eyes on you when there are none. You find yourself glancing over your shoulder, knowing full well you are alone. Something keeps snagging you, pulling at an unseen thread. The corners of your peripherals tugging at you. Beckoning.

Was that a shadow? No.

Is someone there? It’s just you.

There is a tickle at your ear - a constant - dancing along the shell of it. Wherever you go, it follows.

Home home home. It only feels like home when Din is there, safe and sound at your side. But even then, even Din—in all of his plated exterior—even Din has succumbed. Even Din has

changed.

The truth is, Grogu left and a part of Din left with him. There’s less of him now— more, too: there’s less where it matters, and there’s more where there shouldn’t be.

You don’t remember when it started—when he first disappeared. When the spark in him died, and he was reignited anew.

When this Other became.

On multiple occasions you’ve caught him murmuring into the bellied dark of the Crest with a bent spine, hunched over himself as if he’s shrinking—enveloping in in in as far as the beskar along his chest will allow him to cave. You can never pick up what he mutters, but you catch the sounds of his teeth and lips brushing together, hissing. It’s not Basic; you’d recognize it if it were. You don’t think its Mando’a either. It’s too sharp— too vile. There’s none of his language’s elegance in it.

“Did you say something?” You asked once, poking your head around the doorway, eyes resting on the shine of his helmet.

A beat—and slowly, he unfurled, rearing to his full height and like a sentinel he swiveled, pivoting to face you.

“No.”

Your throat bobbed. “Oh, I-I thought I heard-”

“Come here, mesh’la.”

And you did. You always do.

The darksaber appeared on his belt one day, shortly after the child went away. It came, only once, and there it stays. Indistinguishable - inseparable - there is no dismembering the two. It accompanies him in all things; when he pilots, when he hunts, when he eats. It sleeps by him.

By you, too.

Din has always been stoic—of scant words and physical timing—but now he is a golem. A silent, shrouded figure. His Creed is broken, and you wonder maybe - briefly - if Din is broken as well. He is never unkind to you. He is never threatening. But he is never him. His eyes— the oaky comfort you once found in them— have blackened. He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man.

And within that pit he has born rage. Immaculately, it has sprung from him as woman did by Adam’s rib. Like mold growing upon stale fruit does he have this—this wrath. It crept through him. It stalked along his soft flesh— his tawny hide—and it waited; patient, there in the shadows, it waited for him. Waited for him to turn his back, to close his eyes and drop his guard— leeway, an entrance— as to slip in undetected.

To inhabit.

The virtue and love that once thrummed within the heart of him has burned away. Charred. Only this of him remains; this insatiable lust— for blood sport, for the promise of split knuckles and fractured bone, for you.

For all of you.

Now, Din goes out on bounties like he needs it—like it’s oxygen. He lives off it. He’s sustained by the rush, by the adrenaline laced chemicals pumping through his arteries. He’s gone for days and weeks on end and when he returns, he fucks you like he’s been starved. Out in the wilderness without a morsel to eat, he devours you. He’s ravenous as he tears his way across your body—all too pliant for him, all too willing—letting him feast on the nectar dripping from your heat.

You can feel it in his foot steps as he storms the ship, the bassy echo of it. You can see it in the pitch of his visor. You can feel it in his cock as he slams into you, night after night after night—ceaselessly. Tirelessly. Unnaturally. The number of orgasms he wrings out of you is countless—his need so incurable, you have to fight to stay above it all; you have to war against your urge to slip away completely.

Din is one grey choice - one hair trigger - from coming undone.

And you should be scared. You should be terrified—he should terrify you. Like scalding water, you should flinch away at the mere sight of him—at the warning steam that rises from his pauldrons. This predator, unhinged and off his leash—a great, crushing beast at which you are at the mercy of.

But— you aren’t.

You couldn’t place it at first: the gnawing. The gnawing at your insides like maggots festering upon a grizzled carcass hanging limp at a wet market. You couldn’t name the tremor in your gut. You gave it epithets as best you could, you gave it placeholders - fear, worry, intrigue - all until one day it spilled. One day it seeped past the tremble of your stomach and sank lower, lower,

lower.

It settled in your cunt—the gnawing. And you named it Want.

You want him. You want this—you’re addicted to it. This sin like led-lined velvet, you want to roll in it until it poisons you, until you’re smothered with it, just like it’s smothering you now— blanketing you as you mewl naked in your bed, knees knocked together. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you frantically work circles into your clit with the all consuming thought of him: his teeth at your shoulders, his hand around your windpipe.

You’re nearing your finish, the promise of that tight coil unraveling there - there - right before you. You’re so enrapt in it—in this dizzying, wanton act—you don’t register the ramp lowering. You don’t hear the carbonite chamber whir, his quarry freezing over, or his foot falls sounding their way to your bunk.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You gasp, frightened eyelids wrenching open as his baritone timbre crackles through the hull. The Mandalorian stands there, backlit by the glow from the galley and he looms—expressionless. Haunting. You blink at him rapidly, batting away the desire that’s glazed over your eyes.

“Y-You’re back,” you stutter lamely. You try to smile. You try to distract him. “I uhm, I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you wouldn’t be back until, u-until..."

Your excuses fade, mouth parched dry. The film of his visor gives you nothing. He is unknowable, but you feel it - sense it - that energy—unbridled and rippling off of him in sick, suffocating waves.

“I’ll ask you again,” Din starts.

“What-" he steps towards you, darksaber hanging heavy at his hip, “do you think-" you shimmy up your cot, shoulder blades digging into the steel sidings, “you’re doing?”

Your heart thunders against your chest, beating until you’re sure it’ll burst.

“I’m-"

I’m sorry you almost say, and you have to force yourself to gulp down the apology. You know he doesn’t want it, and he knows you wouldn’t mean it even if you offered it to him.

Your brow wavers. “I-"

He rips away the sheet you had drawn up over you and reflexively you jerk back, revealing the gloss on your fingers and the patch of hair above your mound, shimmering shamefully—exposing you, mocking you under the dim lights.

“What’s this?” he asks, and fuck he’s patronizing you. He’s smirking—you don’t have to see it, you can hear it in the curving lilt of his voice as he drinks in the sight of your very obvious indiscretion, laid bare before him. You can’t bring yourself to answer him—you can hardly look at him—and you bristle, hair on your arm prickling up.

“You fuck yourself speechless, little one?”

Your cunt throbs, burning and contracting around the orgasm that was snatched away from you and fuck, you’re drowning in him. Din is tar—he’s an oil slick, and you’re plummeting through it—gasping for air, for the surface, for sunlight. He’s everywhere—his broad frame, his voice, his scent like copper and smoke. You can barely breathe through the thick of him.

“Answer me,” he growls, leather croaking at the clench of his fist.

“Yes—yes,” you utter, proceeding with honesty, no matter how pathetic. “I missed you,” you squeak out.

Din cocks his head, a smug look scowled onto his visor. “You missed me?” he purrs through a sneer and you nod, precious and small, worrying the inside of your lip.

He sinks one leg and then the other onto your bedroll, just between your parted feet, kneeling before you. The flimsy spring mattress squeals under his weight—all of that armor, all of that boiling soot trapped within him.

“How much?”

For a moment, you must look confused. Puzzled. Your eyebrows furrow as Din unclips the saber from his belt, rolling it over in his hand. You rake your gaze up from it, dilated pupils landing on the unforgiving black panel there.

“You claim you missed me. Prove it.”

Your cunt bottoms out.

He crouches over you, tracing along your inner thighs with it's steel shaft and you bury your fists into the cot. You don't know which to look at: Din or the rod in his hand. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you trust me.”

Fuck, it feels like you’re going to rattle apart. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t humming—isn’t seizing up wild. “I-I trust you,” you mouth softly. And you do, whether you should or not—you trust him with your life, to make or ruin.

“Fuck, you’re wet mesh'la,” he appraises darkly, leaning in to run a leathered digit through your seam, parting your curls. Your legs twitch, heels of your feet digging into the bed. “So ready for me. So eager."

Your eyes dance frenetically down to the handle and back up to him as he aligns the saber with your pussy. The blunt end of it touches your lips and you shudder, instinctually fidgeting away from it. Din splays his hand on your knee, anchoring you in place. “Shh,” he coos, rubbing a thumb soothingly into your skin. It doesn’t feel sweet. It feels sickly, cloying— like arsenic.

You don’t dare breathe as he prods the shaft into you, inch by terrible inch. It doesn’t matter how slicked and wet you are from touching yourself, your walls strangle the foreign intrusion. Your body resists.

“Fuck,” you sob. Your throat, your pussy, all of it— it’s all compacted. It feels so fucking tight, both words and air fighting to get out and in all at once—everything inside you constricting.

“Show me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Show me how much you missed me.” He drags his gloved digit over your clit, pressing down onto it until you see stars, fizzing in front of your vision. “I know you can take it, sweet girl. Be good and show me.”

Be good. Be good for him. Be his only vice.

He continues to swirl at your bundle of nerves and you’re nearly thrashing with it— with all of this— hair fanned and mussed against the pillow as you writhe, swallowing his saber to the hilt. Fuck, you’re so full. Maker, you’re stuffed with it; with the cold, uneven edges, the ridges woven into the grip of it— and he slowly - tortuously - delves the handle in and out of you, hitting against your cervix with every thrust.

You can only mumble. Your lips have gone slack, your mind is cavernous. All you can do is quiver and beg— beg for release. Beg for it to end.

Beg for more.

“Oh gods, oh g- Maker, please—”

Your bleary eyes shoot open as you’re silenced by the grip of his gloved hand.

“No.” Din pinches your jaw in the web of his palm, fingertips dimpling your cheeks. “No, your God isn’t here,” he seethes, low and deadly, graphite venom dripping from his lips. “Pray to me.”

Fuck.

Trembling, your lips pucker ugly and sloppy as you babble uselessly in his stony grasp, chin crinkling with a whimper. “D-Din.”

He inhales sharply, mouth snaking into a wicked grin behind his helm. “That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

He’s deboning you as he would a fish. Practiced, he plucks you into messy pieces—gutting you through your open maw. His ministrations are crawled. They’re slothed and carnal with arrogance and pride and it’s not enough—its all together too much, but still—it’s not enough. You’re hungry. You paw at him, scraping over his breastplate.

“Din, please—more," you gasp feverishly, eyes blown wide.

A blip of static huffs through his modulator. “You want more, you filthy little thing?” He gives you another squeeze, indenting scorch marks into your face.

You nod—you try to, his grasp is too firm, rooting your neck to still. “Yes.”

Din groans, all but obliging you as he begins to fuck you harder, pistoning through you as he thumbs your nub with his rough pad.

“Din-”

You’re whining now, tinny and depraved. It’s wrong. Every part, every second of this, is wrong. Immoral. But you can’t stop the way your body convulses at his every touch—you can’t stop the heat roiling in your core.

“Din, Din baby- fuck fuck fuck-”

It’s like he’s trying to split you in two—all of you. Your pussy, your mind, your soul—he’s bisecting you. Divvying you up to bits of nothing. It’s only then that horrid realization occurs to you, winding through your addled haze as he fucks you deep and splintering: you’ll never be whole again.

And scarier still—you don’t think you want to be.

No, you want to be these loathsome shards. You want to be broken glass. You want to draw blood.

You want to be possessed by him.

“Fuck yourself,” he pants, his cock straining violently against his trousers, begging for relief. “Be good and fuck yourself. Let me watch.”

Be good be good be good

He leaves your clit and you whimper at the loss. Your face is stained with tears. The salty trails cascade down to mingle into your hair, into the sheets. You’re vibrating, but you do as he says and you reach down, recoiling when you touch the chilled metal tip. Tentatively, you pad along it, settling on the end that’s peeking out from you.

A pained sound rumbles through Din as you wrap your fist around the saber, and your eyes flit up to meet his, hidden somewhere behind his helm. Hurriedly he unbuttons his pants in a flourish and removes himself from his constraints. He’s pulsing and proud, flexing up against his stomach, the veins choked to bulge along the angry, silken shaft of him.

Finally, you begin to move the hilt—finding an aching, undulating rhythm and he can’t fucking take it. He rips his helmet off, letting it clatter to the floor.

“Din,” your pray, “Din, I think I’m going to-”

You’re wrecked – fried like a livewire– as you look for him, as you search and search—for that warmth, for a trace of him left there. The Din you knew, the Din you agreed to fly with all those months ago, the Din you love. You think you see it sometimes—in the slant of his mouth, the bridge of his nose— but here, now, he is gone.

He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man, and you want nothing more than to fall. Standing on the ledge of him, staring down into the abyss—you want this. You want to fall. You want to jump.

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me, sweet girl— tell me.” He’s fucking his fist raw, humping into his palm as desperate as an animal.

“I’m yours,” you mewl. Furiously rubbing your clit with one hand and spearing yourself on the rod of his saber with the other, your hips buck and spasm. You snap. A blinding light sears through you, ricocheting off every scrap of muscle and tendon sewed up in your body. “Just for you,” you cry, “I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours—”

Your ragged sobs mix with the lewd slaps of skin as Din pumps himself, hot ropes of his release spitting onto you— painting your pussy, the divot of your navel, coating along the slope of your tummy.

“Look at you—fucking, look at you,” he moans throatily, easing through his rough strokes as he softens.

Your chest is heaving and you feel dumb, empty—like a puppet, arms and legs moving on phantom strings. Din removes the handle from you with a wet squelch; a viscous strand of your juices clings on, obscenely connecting your pussy to the base of it, and you rasp—the wind punched out of you with its gaping absence. You gush. It dribbles out the slit of you, leaking past your abused hole and soaking into the bedroll.

When he unsheathed the saber from your scabbard, he took a part of you with it. You’re so fucked out—you’re practically a parsec away— it went unnoticed.

Undetected.

It brushed past you. You didn’t feel it—you didn’t recognize the whisper that has slithered in in it’s place, nestling within your swollen folds.

Breeding there.

“Beautiful,” Din murmurs, placing it on the mattress beside your head, the chrome of it gleaming with your slick. He bows his head to lick a path up your cunt, laving you clean as he climbs higher and higher, tonguing off his seed from your stippled skin. “Fucking beautiful, mesh’la,” he growls. “Mine—all fucking mine.”

You’ve gone heavy. You’re too heavy to keep your eyes open—you’ve been hollowed out and you’ve got nothing keeping you tethered here. You start slipping under in slow motion—intervals between languid blinks lasting longer and longer. You’re spooled in a knot of tangled limbs with Din’s mouth, fervent and needy, flaying you open as he sees fit— with his hot mouth and teeth, suckling your breasts, biting at your nipples and bruising your pretty neck.

It’s not long before you hear it again, as you have before— as you always do: the faint caressing of speech, of lips forming language you cannot understand—made indecipherable in your strung out high.

“D’you say something?” you mumble, half conscious—half dreaming.

Din laps a long stripe up your throat, his stubble sanding your skin. “No.”

You sigh, breathy and girlish, as his fingers find your mound, dipping into you once again. He makes you cum twice more that evening. You barely have the strength to watch him do it.

/

Finally, when he’s satisfied—when he’s spent with driving you mad, making you rile— he grants you respite. He permits it – generous, charitable - and you sleep like the dead, soundly through the night until—

until you don’t.

Eyes. You feel them somewhere— there are eyes on you. You stir, stuttering in your sleep to squirm in the dark. You don’t know what you’re listening to at first. It’s a sound of some kind, a noise. There is a hiss—

A frigid hand seizes around the bloody organ pulsing in your ribcage.

No, not a hiss—it’s a voice. It’s— no-

You pat around for Din beside you but he’s gone—he’s long gone and his vacant spot has grown cold without him—and your nails dig into the sheets, desperately clawing into the fabric.

Inside you.

The voice, the sharp hush of it—it’s inside you. It speaks from inside your own mind, its forked tongue fluttering against your ear.

‘Wake up, sweet girl.’

/

Tags (IM SO SORRY): @djarinsbeskar @pedros-mustache @krissology @keeper0fthestars @read-and-rec

[bitches-who-write]

Can you do headcanons siblings of the gang ? Like, how they act with them and how they treat them and how they let the gang act with them ?

Somewhat important note below~

So we know we said we take requests on a first come, first serve basis; however for the sake of time today (and due to the fact that we did not post anything last week) we decided to take on this request early. PLEASE do not be offended or upset if you are still waiting for your request! We promise we will be getting to them ALL. After this post now, we will go back to our fist come, first serve rule.

We have a few requests which we'll be writing longer stories for vs casual headcannons. Stories typically take us several hours to complete since your 2 lovely bitches who write do not live close enough to one another. We write together via FaceTime and Google Doc. We appreciate all your support and patience with us as we write you guys the best content possible! Enough rambling now, Enjoy these headcannons!!!

Patrick With A Little Sister-

Oh boy… Patrick is crazy over protective of his little sister.

Maybe the word should be obsessive and controlling instead~

He watches her every move. He even comes into her room as she sleeps just to occasionally check on her.

Whenever she gets out of Belch’s car heading to school, Patrick keeps a close eye on her again. Mentally noting everyone she talks to.

He makes sure everyone is in line. It doesn’t matter if it’s an adult or a kid. If they do something Patrick doesn’t like, they’re getting fucked up.

Patrick refuses to let guys talk to her. Only Henry, Vic and Belch are allowed to.

When Patrick isn’t around, he puts the other Bower’s Gang members in charge of her. And she knows well enough to listen to them.

He sometimes makes inappropriate comments about her, resulting in a smack off the head by the other guys.

Patrick LOVES to mess with her.

Always holding things over her head so she can’t reach.

Laughs as she tries to jump up and grab it from him.

He’ll lean down and rest his arms on the top of her head since she’s so much smaller than him.

When she doesn’t listen to Patrick, he will literally just pick her up and throw her over his shoulder and laugh as she struggles to get down.

Even though she’s a girl and a few years younger than him, doesn’t mean she’s safe from how rough Patrick gets.

He still wrestles her to the ground and puts her in a damn headlock.

Definitely gets a few bruises from Patrick playfully hitting her. (Patrick doesn't realize his own strength.)

One word… tickled. Patrick is always tickling the shit out of her to tease her.

It’s even worse when the entire Bower’s Gang joins in on torturing her.

Look… this is Patrick. So he still has a mean, sadistic side.

He gets off on fear so he loves to scare her anyway he can.

Whether that is by jumping out at her, or doing something dangerous and reckless like picking her up and dangling her over the cliff edge to the quarry. (she hates heights and doesn’t know how to swim.)

“Uh no! You’re slipping! Better hold on, sweetheart. I know you don’t know how to swim.” He chuckles darkly, smirking down at her as she grips onto his forearm tightly and cries.

Patrick doesn’t hesitate on the low- blows, either. Making comments that he knows will make her cry.

If she threatens to tell their parents on him, Patrick will grab her from behind agressively, making her gasp as he covers her mouth tightly and whisper tauntingly in her ear:

“Now, Now.. Just why would you say that? You know that only gets you in trouble, little one..” He chuckles darkly and tightens his grip in a painful manner.

Patrick With A Little Brother-

…… I think we all know how this ended…. Patrick disliked his little brother, Avery… a lot. You see, Patrick likes being the only male sibling. It’s less competition and less hassle for him. Only Patrick is allowed to make (more like break) the reputation of his family’s name in the small town of Derry, Maine. Bottom line, if Patrick had another little brother, it would result in the same outcome as Avery. Sorry.

Belch With A Little Sister-

Very protective. Does not let her out of his sight for a second.

Hovers over her when they walk in the woods so she doesn’t trip or fall down.

He brings her along when he goes out with the guys sometimes, unless he knows they will be partaking in illegal activities.

Keeps snacks in his car for whenever she rides with him and always makes sure she eats 3 proper meals during the day.

Not only does he have extra snacks but he has a first aid kit, too.

He’s always prepared knowing she’s small, so there’s a good chance she’ll accidentally get hurt hanging around the guys.

And yes, it has happened on more than one occeasion.

He checks on her during school and makes sure no one is messing with her.

After school, Belch makes sure she does her homework but never really helps her with it. Why would he? He doesn’t even do his own assignments.

For the most part, he’s pretty sweet but sometimes the big brother power goes to his head.

He makes her do her chores and his around the house.

If she ever did something wrong, Belch goes right to blackmail.

“I won’t let mom know about that F on your report card… only IF you wash my car everyday the rest of this week.

Henry purposely spills his drink on the hood of the car right after she just got down cleaning it.

“Opps.. looks like you missed a spot. Better get to it, kid.” Henry says mockingly as he ruffles her hair walking by.

Belch always makes sure she’s safe in bed by the end of the night though.

He even kisses the side of her head when the guys aren’t around.

Belch With A Little Brother-

He takes him under his wing.

Loves to talk about cars- the makes and models, horsepower, you name it.

Even though his little brother isn’t old enough to drive yet, that doesn’t stop Belch from giving him driving lessons.

But bet your life he threatens him before taking off. “I swear to fuck though man, if you crash my car, I will end you. Okay, now put it in reverse. Let’s go”

Belch watches sports with him and even plays in the backyard, as well.

Belch acts as if he’s his coach to prepare him for the school’s team.

He also teaches him how to properly lift weights and spots him, too.

Belch told him “the ladies love a man with muscles, so to keep lifting bro.”

Speaking of girls, Belch was the one who gave him ‘the talk’... in very elaborate and explicit detail leaving his brother shocked, disgusted, and intrigued all at once.

Although he does hang out with his brother from time to time, sometimes Belch chooses friends over family and takes off for long periods of time.

Belch for the most part tries to be patient with him, but still gives his brother tough love as a form of preparing him for the real world.

Overall, Belch is a pretty decent big brother.

He means well but sometimes misses the mark.

Henry With A Little Sister-

Their father works long shifts, often resulting in an absence in their home life.

Henry’s dad basically tells him he’s fully in charge of his little sister.

Henry acts pissed off about that like she’s a bother and interrupts his life but deep down, it makes him feel important for once in his life.

Henry is both very strict and protective over her.

He’s also very controlling such as who she’s allowed to talk to or what she’s allowed to wear.

Nothing short or low cut is allowed. She better not even think about talking back, either,

Henry doesn't have much patience for anything and his temper is even worse.

For example- Her short legs means she walks slower than the rest of them.

Henry rolls his eyes and ends up dragging her by her wrist or sometimes just throwing her over his shoulder because he can’t stand waiting for her.

When it comes time for school, Henry makes sure everyone knows she’s a Bowers. If anyone (child or adult) even just so much as looked at her funny, Henry is throwing hands.

Speaking of school, Henry doesn’t help her with any bit of projects or homework. “Don’t fuckin’ ask me! You do it, or don’t, I don't really give a shit.”

When it comes time for dinner, Henry makes simple stuff like peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, mac n’ cheese, or sometimes just fixes a bowl of cereal. But he always makes her clean up the mess / dishes after.

If she talks back, Henry has no problems getting in her face and yelling loudly.

Sometimes when his anger gets the best of him, he’ll smack her across the face.

He stiffens up when he sees the tears form in her eyes. Sometimes he just walks away and doesn’t want to deal with it, and other times he stands there stiffly and gives her an awkward hug.

“Sorry kid. I didn’t mean to hit you. You just pissed me the fuck off.”

Henry would never let anyone ever see this but occasionally he gives her a quick kiss to the side of her cheek when he’s feeling extra guilty. 

Similar to Patrick, Henry loves to get on her nerves.

Tripping her as she walks by.

Embarrassing her in front of the other guys just to see her blush.

Smacking her off the head as he walks by- her angry face makes Henry laugh.

Tickling her to make her admit something or as a form of punishment because he knows she hates that.

Barges in her room without knocking first.

Warns her she's never, ever allowed to have a boyfriend. And if she has a crush on either Vic, Belch, or Patrick...she’s dead meat.

Won’t allow her to drink alcohol or smoke. If she sneaks and does it, Henry teaches her a ‘lesson’.

“Find you wanna drink? Then here, take it. But now you have to drink the entire thing.”

He smirks and watches her get sick from the alcohol thinking that actually taught her a lesson and will deter her from it in the future.

Speaking of drinking-

When their dad comes home drunk, Henry is the one to take all his shit just to protect her because deep down he does care about her even though he calls her a “little fucking shit” daily.

Henry With A Little Brother-

In Henry's warped mind, his brother is a guy too, so he doesn’t need to be coddled like his little sister does.

If Henry has to withstand hits and verbal abuse, then his little brother should too. “Why should he get a pass?” Henry scoffs.

Henry gives him a lot of tough love.

He tries to make him ‘stronger’ by saying some really rotten shit to him. “Builds character, get used to it, kid.”

Henry does teach his brother how to fight though. “Put those stupid fuckin’ books down pussy. Books can’t teach you how to be a fucking man, but throwing punches will.”

Henry gave his little brother his own knife for his birthday.

He told him since he’s a Bowers, he's a target so it will come in handy~

Gives his brother “advice” on girls and sex; telling him which girls around town ‘put out’ the most.

One day when his brother asked Henry about a particular girl Henry responded with: “Ooh yeah, (random girl’s name), the only thing good about her is her pussy. Face is busted.”

Overall, Henry isn’t too bad towards his brother but once again, when his temper is raging, no one is safe from him.

Vic With A Little Sister-

Overly cautious and protective of her. He’s basically like a helicopter parent.

When the guys are swearing around her, he covers her ears and tells the guys to cut it out.

“Guys! Language!”

“I’m only a few years younger than you guys, I’m not a child!” she retorts.

Patrick, being classic creepy Patrick circles around her. “Just give it a few more years babe. Based on how your mom looks...” Patrick licks his lips envisioning Vic’s mother until Vic smacks him in the balls making Patrick hunch over in pain.

Vic likes to keep her in sight so right after school, he goes straight to her locker and makes sure she rides home with them, too.

When they get out of the car to bully some kids, Vic tells her to stay put. He doesn’t want her involved in anything.

When walking through the woods to the quarry, He always has a hand around her upper arm for support when climbing down the embankment.

He watches her like a hawk when swimming, so paranoid something will happen. Again, think helicopter parent

While he’s sweet for the most part, there’s times he just loses his temper.

He’ll explode and begin yelling at her, only inches from her face.

Sometimes when she does something really, really out of line, Vic will shove her into Henry and Patrick.

“Here guys, teach this little bitch a lesson for me. And don’t go easy on her.” Vic says walking off to calm down.

A part of him feels a little guilty when he sees her cry but other times he feels it’s justified.

He isn’t overly affectionate with her around the guys, the most he does is put an arm around her shoulder.

Sometimes sneaks behind her and tasers her sides and laughs when she jumps and collapses to the ground.

But when no one is around, he 100% gives the best hugs.

When she’s going to a sleepover at a girl-friend's house, Vic tells her to be safe and mumbles, “love you.”

Back at home before bed, Vic will tease her for being paranoid as she makes her way around the house, triple checking to make sure all the windows and doors are locked.

“What? Afraid the boogeyman is gonna getcha?” Vic mocks.

If she’s having a nightmare and calls for Vic, he’ll come and sit on the bedroom floor next to her bed until she falls asleep again.

Vic With A Little Brother-

Vic isn’t as protective over his little brother as he is with their little sister; but he still cares for him.

He just feels that his brother is able to hold his own while his sister needs more protection/ guidance.

He let’s his brother tag along with the guys. They all don’t mind. If anything, they refer to his little brother as Vic number 2.

He genuinely listens to his brother’s interests. Okay.. sometimes he zones out when he drones on and on but he always acts interested.

Vic is pretty book smart so he helps his brother with school work, especially in math.

Tries to make his brother more confident when it comes to talking / picking up girls.

Basically acts as his wing man.

The guys try to give his brother tips on how to pick up girls...Vic usually tells him to ignore everything they say because all that's gonna earn him is a slap in the face.

Tells him not to listen to Henry or Patrick for girl advice.. EVER.

He does teach his brother how to fight though.

Just because Vic is one of the sweeter ones in the gang; that doesn’t change the fact that he’s in a gang to begin with…

When his brother told him he was being picked on, Vic taught him how to fight, but also got involved himself.

Nothing like sending an intimidating message to a few assholes.

When Vic and his brother fight with each other, he doesn’t hold back just because that’s his little brother.

Overall, they get along for the most part and Vic is a pretty decent older brother to his siblings.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

So I just finished watching a play-through of The Quarry, and I have to wonder... in a scenario where the reapers are in an 80's B Horror Movie, what roles would they play? Who would die first/last? Let's say it's a summer camp themed movie, just to narrow it down lol

I love horror movies and I gotta say the entire time I was writing this I was laughing my ass off

remind me to draw Undertaker in a Jason Voorhees mask for Halloween 😂😂

ALAN is the first one to die, simply because he has to investigate what’s going on. He can’t ignore it or go get help; he goes right into the thick of things with little preparation, by himself… and pays dearly for it.

ERIC is the red herring, because he’s a little suspicious, isn’t he? Everyone thinks he’s the killer or helping the killer… turns out he was trying to investigate things. Of course, as luck would have it, he ends up just as dead as the rest of the cast.

GRELL is the cheerleader stereotype, too busy flirting and/or fucking everyone in sight to worry about the killer. Predictably, although they do put up a fight, they get killed shortly after doing the horizontal tango. What a waste!

OTHELLO is the nerd, the smart one who pieces things together and figures out who the killer is! It’s just… quite the pity he does so a little too late. Before he can warn anyone else, he’s picked off, and the final chase probably involves stumbling across his body.

RONALD is the jock, sort of like the other half to Grell’s cheerleader. He’s also preoccupied with flirting and impressing people, though he may last just a bit longer for the simple fact that he keeps striking out. When he finally does get laid, stab goes the knife.

RUDGER is the skeptic, despite seeing all the evidence. He thinks there must be some other reason for the ‘disappearances’, maybe thinking it’s a prank, and thinks the killer is just a legend. Of course, by the time he believes, it doesn’t help him a bit.

SASCHA is the one who believes the legends and, in a camp setting, tries violently to protect the children under their care when the killer comes a-knocking. They don’t realize the killer isn’t after the kids, though. They still wind up dead, but not before being able to get out a warning…

UNDERTAKER is the villain, naturally, the big, scary baddie everyone else is running from. His past is sympathetic and he may not be entirely unreasonable in his thinking; it’s how he executes things that are chilling. There’s method in his madness, alright. However, there is also madness in his methods.

WILLIAM is the final girl guy, surviving until the very end thanks to his intelligence and, unfortunately, his companions’ sacrifices. Though he may have spent some of his time on the sidelines, now he’s ready to destroy the monster who’s been terrorizing them all. Despite the scars he’s left with, at least he took the villain down with him.

… Or did he? Is that a SEQUEL HOOK we smell?!

[forever-rogue]

Congrats on the milestone love! Can I request Din Djarin with prompt 12 from list 1 please 😊 I love your work so I had to request❤

Prompt 12: "Before I do this, I want you to know I have always loved you."

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader ; warnings: mentions of injury, death

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»��————-　♡　————-««

“Din? Din! What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Din sat up bolt right, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. His bleary eyes darted around the small hull of the Razor Crest as he grounded himself and realized where he was. Reaching up, he wiped at his sweaty brow, sighing deeply when he realized he was alone. Letting out a few shallow breaths, he walked around the small space, reminding himself that you were gone and he was utterly alone. 

But Maker - the dream had felt so real. It was just like you had been next to him, laughing in his ear with that wicked grin on your face as you tapped at his helmet. It was just like yesterday, even though you hadn’t been around in some time anymore. 

“Din? Don’t frown so much, you’re going to get wrinkles!” 

He glanced at the holo-clock and thanked his lucky stars that it was an appropriate time to get up and start his day. There was no way he could go back to sleep now; even if he did, it would be plagued with nightmares. 

Not that they were nightmares per se, but they served as constant reminders of you. That you were once a tangible, warm, living, breathing thing. You weren’t just mere memories of a person that never existed - no, you were everything he had ever loved and wanted. And he’d realized that too late. He’d never even gotten the chance to tell you he loved you. All because he was too stubborn, too foolish, too scared, too - 

But it didn’t matter now. None of it mattered anymore because he would never get the chance to tell you anymore.

Din frowned at himself as his reflection once he entered the small ‘fresher, quickly glancing over his mussed locks and tired eyes. He hadn’t slept well last night; he hadn’t slept in many nights, so this was no exception. He turned on the tap and splashed some water over face and slicked back his hair before deciding not to shave and settling on just brushing his teeth before getting dressed. 

“What do you look like, Din? I bet you’ve got dark hair and brown eyes. I know they all think you’re this scary bounty hunter, but I know the real you. You’re soft - soft hair, soft brown eyes, and a soft heart.” 

He gritted his teeth as he tried to push that particular memory out of his mind. You’d crawled into his bed, shivering and freezing because the heating had gone out. Din had welcomed you in, wrapping himself around you as you buried yourself into his chest, promising him that you wouldn’t sneak a peek. But as you had drifted off to sleep, you’d mumbled aimlessly at him as he just held you. It was one of his favorite memories.

He should have told you then. It would have been so easy, so simple….but he didn’t. 

The Mandalorian pulled on his clothes before reaching for his armor and strapping it on piece by piece. He touched for his left pauldron, remembering all the times you had helped him do this, how you’d insisted that he should get something new or at least repainted. One day, he’d always promised with a laugh.

But that day had never come; and perhaps it never would. What was the point?

He gave himself one last look over before frowning at his reflection and slipping on the helmet. It was like once it was on, he was no longer Din, but Mando. He had never felt more human, more alive, then when you’d call him DIn.

“Din? Din Djarin? I love that - it’s perfect.”

The way your eyes had lit up the first time he’d told you his name, the smile that graced your features, had told him that he had made the right decision. It wasn’t just a name, it was trust and respect - everything. And now no one would ever know it again; it would go to the grave with him.

Stepping over to his weapons cache, he shuffled through and tried to pick the right tool for the day’s work. It wasn’t much today; he was just meeting Greef Karga to turn in some quarries and get something new to work on. It wasn’t anything exciting, busy work more than anything, but it kept him going. The longer his mind was occupied, the less time he had for the memories to seep to the forefront. He was already plagued at night - he didn’t need to be during the day on top of it. 

He slung the pulse rifle over his shoulder before deciding it was good enough. Lowering the ramp, he walked towards the center of Nevarro, keeping his gaze trained straight ahead as the crowds parted for him. No one dared to stand in his path, to mess with the notorious Mandalorian.

"Where do you think we should go? We deserve a rest, don't you think? We could anywhere in the galaxy - maybe somewhere with lots of green!"

That rest and relaxation had never come. Not for you and definitely not for him. He hadn't slowed down enough to do more than breath since you'd been gone. Din just couldn't do it; nothing felt right. 

He nodded in acknowledgment at a few people that called his name. The rest of his Covert of Mandalorians was here; but he wasn't even sure if he wanted to face any of them. It had been so long since he'd made a point to see them. He just...the idea of going back and facing their questions was overwhelming in every sense of the word. 

No, instead he headed straight for the cantina to get some new assignments and take off again. He'd already been lingering about for longer than he preferred. He wanted to be busy, busy, busy. 

Just before he could enter the dirty, old cantina, he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard it. It was a laugh he hadn't heard in so long and it made his heart ache as he turned to find the source of the sound. 

That was your laugh, it had to be. There was no one else that could have sounded exactly like that.

"Din? Come on - find me!"

"Mesh'la?" he turned on his heel and he looked round for you. Nothing seemed out of place or out of turn, but it had to be you. The crowd seemed nonplussed as he looked around and tried to find you, nothing to just that you had ever been there.

"Mesh'la?" it was a small, almost pathetic whisper he pushed himself through the crowds, scanning through the crowds.

Just before he rounded a corner, he saw it - a flash of your favorite blue dress and your hair, done in your typical fashion. But as soon as he blinked and tried to chase after you, you were nowhere in sight. It was like you'd never been there at all. And maybe you hadn't...but surely… it had to have been you. 

His heart was beating wildly, slamming against his ribcage as he turned around in a panic. He had to find, to see - if there was even the slightest chance that you were there, he needed to see you.

"Mando!" the gruff voice cut through his panicked inner monologue as Din found Greef Karga slowly making his way over to him. He huffed slightly as he turned to the manz practically feeling you slipping through his fingers...again, "come on! I thought we were meeting inside."

"Yes," Din huffed in annoyance as he trailed after him, following him into the loud, crowded cantina.

"I'll always be here, Din. I'm never far from you."

"I'll cut to the chase," Greef said after paying Din for the current quarries and making arrangements to get them from the Crest, "I have a big job and I think you're the man for it. Everyone else has failed, but I know you won't. It's dangerous- but you are more than capable."

"I can handle this one on my own, Din. It's not that dangerous and it'll be an easy in and out job."

"What is it?" Din closed his eyes as he let out a quiet, ragged breath and tried not to think about the last time a dangerous assignment had been handed over. You had been so eager to take it, claiming it would be no big deal. Even after his insistence that you should go together, you'd sneaked out and gone on your own. 

What he wouldn't give to go back to that day and stop you.

"I have a very...special client and he requires an asset," he explained as Din leaned forward to hear what he had to say, "many have gone after it, but none have been successful. He needs it brought back alive and soon."

"Alive?" Din's eyebrows raised as he tilted his head to the side, "and no one's been able to catch it?"

"Correct," Greef nodded as he placed a puck on the table and Din studied it closely, "the risk is great but the reward is far greater. Take some time and think about it. I know things have been different since-"

"I'll do it," he agreed sharply, cutting the man off before he could get the words out. He didn't want to hear it - he couldn't hear. Hearing those words would make what happened a reality and he wasn't ready to have it be so biting and harsh, "tell me where to go and who to meet and consider it done."

"Mando, are you sure…"

"Yes," his answer was harsh and laced with venom as he waited for Greef Karga to go on.

»»————-　♡　————-««

When Din left the cantina again, he sighed heavily before taking a moment to collect himself as he stared at the sky.

"Don't be afraid, Din. I'm always with you. We can do anything together."

"Kriff," his hands went to his hips as he tried to figure out his next move. He wasn't even concerned with the risks; his job was inherently dangerous and he'd been injured before. Many times to your chagrin; he was always amused, watching you in reverence as you patched him up and chastised him for his recklessness. 

But it didn't matter. Nothing really did. Without you at his side, nothing really mattered. You weren't just his partner, or his companion. No, you had always been much more than that, making a place in his heart from the start. It had been easy for him to fall for you, effortless and gentle, even if he hadn't realized what was happening at the time. And then...he'd ended up as a lonely fool that never confessed his true feelings for you.

And then….it had been you that had done it. That had said those words, made that confession.  

But by the time you said it...it didn't matter. It didn't make a difference. Din's chest constricted and he felt like his throat was closing up. He leaned against the stone wall, trying to calm himself and stop the onset of sheer panic.

He closed his eyes, wishing the terror would stop gripping and pulling him under. But it was too late and it took everything in his power not to completely lose himself.

"Why did you do this?!" Din's voice cracked as he slumped onto the floor next to you, pulling your trembling body onto his lap as he looked over your wounds. His heart fell into his stomach as he pushed your shirt up to try and better assess your injuries, "i-i-its okay, Mesh'la, I'll take care of you. It's okay."

"I knew it was dangerous," you admitted  softly as you felt him try and stop the bleeding on your side, "I couldn't let you get hurt. I...I couldn't live with myself knowing something happened to you."

"You should have waited for me," he felt helpless as you wrapped your arms around his waist and looked up at him so sweetly. As much as he tried to suppress the bleeding in your side and chest, he knew it was becoming hopeless. He didn't want to admit it, "if we would have gone together, t-this wouldn't have happened…"

"Or both of us would have gotten hurt," you whispered as you reached up and put your palm on his helmet, where his cheek would be, "its better this way. This way,  you'll be okay. The world needs you, Din Djarin. You have so much left to do - so many wonderful things."

"I can't do them without you, please," he was begging at this point, and you could hear his ragged breathing, "please. I can't do...this."

"You can, my love," you promised him with a firm nod, "can I ask you for one thing? One last favor?"

 "Anything."

"Might I look upon your face? Even for just a moment?" you didn't want to push him, but as your breathing became harder and your head felt light, you couldn't think of anything better than to see him. But if he said no, you would accept his devotion to his creed.

"Yes," he nodded slowly as he reached up with one hand and slowly tilted the helmet up and off hastily setting it on the ground. The first thing you noticed were the tears running his cheeks which were flushed pink as he studied you, "oh Mesh'la…"

"Hi," you beamed at him, gently wiping away his tears, "oh my love, you're so handsome. I was right you know - Brown Eyes. The sweetest eyes."

"Please," he leaned down to your face and gently pressed his lips to your forehead, "don't go. We have time - I can find a Healer."

"Its too late," you whispered, well aware of the fact that your fate was sealed, "but not for you. Just keep going, Din. You'll find yourself right where you were meant to be. Thank you for everything. You have made life so much better - you have my heart always."

"There's still time-"

"I want you to know that I have always loved you," you closed your eyes as your vision became hazy and dark. You felt him press a kiss to your lips as he held you tightly and cried, "I love you, Din Djarin."

Din felt the hot tears roll down his cheeks as he relived his worst nightmare. It still hurt just as badly today as it had back then. He'd never even gotten the chance to tell you he loved you. He tried to calm his breathing as he pulled himself into the present and walked to meet this mysterious client that required this even more mysterious asset.

This would be a distraction - he need a good one right now.

Hurry, Din! Your greatest adventure awaits!

"I still miss you," he whispered to no one, "I love you always."

Come on! You're right where you're supposed to be!

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[camaro-and-smokes]

August

Chapter 2: Games, games, games

Rating: Mature Warnings: Emotional hurt Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Tags (for the whole fic): Fluff, boys kissing, au where everyone lives, no supernatural events, emotional hurt

Chapters: [CH 1] Chapter 2 / ?

Read on AO3 >>

Summary: Steve changes his mind with disastrous results.

::::::::::

For hours they drove around, talked, stopped to make out, and when satisfied, repeated the pattern again.

On one make out stop "I want you" slipped from Billy's lips. Steve smiled, and ran his thumb over Billy's thirsty lips, drawing a sigh out of him. "Are you sure?" "Yes." Steve took a deep, shaky breath. He hadn't thought it would be this easy. But his thoughts had changed, a bit. "You know, I was thinking that..." When Steve paused for a while too long for Billy’s taste, Billy froze. Then he took Steve's hands off from his face – and the perfect moment broke like a soap bubble. "You thought of what?" Billy asked, worried. Steve recognized the concerned look on Billy's face from so many dates he'd had with guys before, and he rushed to end his thought. "Can we wait?" “Okaay...You're sending me mixed messages here, “Billy said and frowned. “What we've been doing the whole evening has been pretty obvious on what you want from me.” “Well, I thought I wanted it.” “I did something wrong, did I?" Billy asked, his hand already hovering on the key in the ignition. "No! You did nothing wrong. I...You're..." Steve tried to find the right words. He was panicking for he'd clearly messed the date with the sudden change of mind, even though it was meant to be a good thing. Billy had interpreted it as rejection. "You're perfect." A stunned silence lingered between them as they both were as surprised by the words. "Ok, that one I know. It always comes with a 'but'," Billy said, and the Camaro barked to life. "No!" Steve yelped. Shit he thought to himself, this went south fast. “You're perfect in every way. When I saw you for the first time by the pool I knew I had to have you. Lust at first sight." "Well, congratulations, you're not the first one to say that." "No, you didn't, ugh, just hear me out! Now that I've gotten to know something about you I was thinking that maybe we, you know," Steve tried to pull his thoughts together as fast as he could to keep Billy from running away from him. "I was hoping that we might be more than just a one night stand." Billy frowned as if he didn't quite understand the concept. Steve put his hand on Billy's hand on the wheel. "I don't just want to fuck you. I do want that, a lot. But I also want to know more about what's going on inside your head." Billy bit his lip. "Are you serious?" "I am. Does it hurt if we..." "If we drag it a bit so that it gets sweeter? Better? Hotter? With whatever you learn more of me during that time?" Billy asked. "Maybe," Steve smiled and took a deep breath internally for having saved the situation. "So that I fall in love with you and then my heart is ripped out and torn into pieces when you leave in August? Because I can't come with you, because I'm stuck here in this fucking hellhole for one more year. Or maybe you won't even want me to come with you because I wouldn't fit your life when you go back. No matter what, I'd be left behind. No thanks." Steve's heart sank as he heard the bare down-to-the-bone words coming out of Billy's mouth. "Billy, you got it all wrong, that's not at all what I meant," Steve sighed. Billy said nothing as he turned the car around and towards the quarry.

Steve leaned to his car and watched as the back lights of the Camaro vanished behind the curve, taking away last of the light from the quarry, and leaving him alone in the darkness. He felt really shitty. He had no idea Billy was that fragile. Billy's tough cover was just that, a facade. He'd gotten hurt sometime, badly, and now when the cover was scratched even slightly the wrong way, the hurt was what first emerged.

More than anything, Billy had seemed to just need someone to listen to him. When Steve had let him just talk and open up a bit, Steve had really liked what came out. Billy could ramble about his car, California, and surfing, endlessly, and Steve hadn't interrupted him, because he liked seeing Billy being so excited. Ok, Billy had a point - he would leave Hawkins in the end of the summer. But fuck it. How would they know if anything was worth anything if they didn't spend more time together? If they didn't get to know each other better? He would have to go and apologize, and to convince Billy that he was worth another chance. That he wouldn't hurt him, that he was serious. He would go all in, wine and dine and woo, and hope, hope, that Billy would see that he was for real. Because to his own surprise, Steve was more serious about Billy than he'd ever been before about any other guy.

It was early afternoon next Tuesday, and Billy had just finished teaching the second swimming class of the day. He was taking the float boards back to the storage room, when Steve was suddenly standing in front of him, keeping the storage room door open. Billy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. Not this shit. Not today , he thought to himself. He shot a glare at Steve as he walked into the storage room. "What do you want?” “I want to talk to you,” Steve said and closed the door behind them. “What is there to talk?” “I don't want to hurt you. I want the opposite.” “I've heard those words before and they're all empty. Go fuck yourself, Harrington,” Billy snarled, and threw the boards to the back of the room instead of piling them up, and turned to leave. Steve grabbed his arm to stop him. “Please. I haven't had such a good time with anyone in a long time than I did with you on Saturday. I mean, before I messed it up. I really want to get to know you better, Billy. Can we please try again? Because no one knows how things end up before they happen.” “On my experience they always end. Period.” “I don't know what happened to you, but someone hurt you, badly. And I'm so sorry that it happened to you. But I'm not that guy. Just give me a chance to prove it. Please.” Billy took a deep breath. He glanced at Steve, and his face softened when he saw the plea in Steve's eyes. “Fine. One chance. One.” Steve sighed of relief. “Thank you. You won't regret it.” "So. What do you have in mind?” “Are you free on Saturday?” “Yeah.” “Come over at my parent's place. They're not home. Is eight ok?”

Madness. Mad-ness. Billy had repeated the word to himself again and again throughout the days that lead to Saturday. When it finally arrived, his anxiety was shooting through the roof, and he was on the brink of just not going, and swearing on never talking to Steve again. He'd been hurt so many times, and with everything else going on in his life, he didn't know why on earth he was doing this to himself. Setting himself vulnerable to yet another heartbreak, one in the line of many. He already knew how this would end. But the way Steve made him feel...He wanted to fight it, but he couldn't help it. Steve made him feel as if he meant something. That his thoughts weren't stupid. That he wasn't stupid. That he was something more than just a piece of meat.

So, he found himself at Steve's door at eight.

It took a while for Steve to come to the door. When he did, Billy flashed him his most gorgeous smile. "Hi." He almost laughed when he saw Steve suddenly leaning to the door and taking a bit harder grip of the handle. "Hi," Steve said with uneven voice, then quickly clearing his throat. "Yeah, hi, come in." Billy took a look around. The hall was massive, and the living room it opened to was even bigger. “Nice crib,” he said. “Well, it's not mine, it's my parent's. You should see my own place. It's a closet,” Steve said. “But it's mine.” They stood in the hall for a while, awkward as if what they had done a week earlier never happened. "So, uh, I was thinking, do you want to see a movie or...maybe a board game," Steve said. Billy couldn't leave the obvious pun go unattended. "See a board game?” he asked smirking. Steve groaned, but let out a laugh. "Not what I meant but sure, we can do that too." Billy couldn't help smiling. Lots of guys wanted to play games with him on a date for sure, but never board games. "I haven't really played any in a long time." "Well, there’s a pool table in the basement." Billy's eyes widened in surprise. "An actual pool table? Full size, stone and fine cloth?" Steve nodded. "You any good at eight ball?" "Any good?" Billy teased. "Pretty boy, I'll beat your ass." “Yes!” Steve pumped his fist and started towards the basement door. Billy couldn't help but laugh as he followed him down to the basement. "You're awfully excited about losing," he kept teasing Steve. "If I get to lose to you, I'll take it," Steve smiled as he set the balls on the table.

[mandospace]

Promise (Boba Fett x Reader Smut)

Request:  Hello! I was unsure if you were still taking requests, but I was wondering if you could write a Boba x reader fic where they make a bet to see if reader would last a night as a his “bounty”. Kind of like a primal kink thing? 😅 Your writing is so amazing thank you so much for the Din and Boba content! ♥️

Requested By: @xothra

Word Count: 5,797

Warnings: SMUT! If you are under 18, DO NOT INTERACT! Primal kink, hunting (?) kink, slight bondage, fingering, spanking, PinV sex, strong language, a hint of fluff?

A/N: I am a whore for Boba. That is all. **gif cred to @humanveil!**

MASTERLIST

“Right there,” Boba groaned, jaw clenched tight. Pain radiated through his back, his muscles tight and tense from the stressful life he lived as a bounty hunter-turned-kingpin. “Fuck, your hands are like magic, princess.”

“Kriff, Boba, what did you do?” your hands moved down his back, fingers prodding the sore muscles. You shuffled down his body before sitting on the back of his thighs. Boba had come home from a long hunt, complaining about how his back was hurting. He never complained, so you knew he wasn’t feeling well when he collapsed on your shared bed within his chambers. His beskar armor and shirt was already stripped from his body, revealing the tight muscles that were colored with bruises, some fading and some new. When you offered him a back massage, he quickly nodded and turned over on his stomach. His muscles were extremely tense under your fingers as you tried to massage the tension away. 

“Dunno,” he mumbled into the pillow, eyes screwing tight at both pleasure and pain. Your fingers were cool against his back, a welcomed comfort after a long day. He barely registered your weight when you sat back on his thighs, too encompassed in your soothing touch. “One moment I was chasing after the quarry and the next my back was killing me.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” you rubbed soothing circles into the dip of his back. “Lay low for a while, let Fennec take over the hunting.”

“You saying I’m too slow, princess?” Boba quipped underneath you, turning his head to the side so you could hear him more clearly. “That I’m getting too old for this?”

“Never, Boba,” you smirked to yourself before leaning down and pressing your lips between his shoulder blades. He shivered under your touch and let out a small sigh. “All I’m saying is that maybe you don’t have to hunt anymore. Let some other bounty hunter chase after your enemies.”

“You do think I’m old.” Boba huffed, turning under you so he could see your face. You settled down over his hips and ran your hands up his stomach, stopping to play with the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. 

“Well...” your words trailed off, bottom lip catching between your teeth. Boba had a tough life- much tougher than most. Bounty hunting was never an easy profession for anyone, and it certainly wasn’t kind to him. Working for crime lords was always dangerous, especially one that owned a rancor and sarlacc. Life didn’t get any easier for Boba after he crawled out of the pit- it took him years to regain his strength and armor. Only recently have things started going his way, what with finding you and performing a successful coup. He shouldn’t have to work anymore, he deserves to relax and rule the Outer Rim with you by his side. “Why not relax and take a little break from hunting. Rest up until you’re feeling better, and then you can get back to chasing down quarries.”

“I am perfectly capable of hunting right now,” he playfully glared at you. Smiling, you ran your hands further up his body, cupping his jaw. Your body followed your hands and you leaned over him, nose brushing his.

“Darling,” you placed a soft peck to the corner of his mouth. “You couldn’t catch me if I ran out that door right now.”

Your mouth on his skin was distracting, but he still caught your words. “I could too!” Boba gripped your hips suddenly and flipped the two of you over so that he was now on top. He tried to ignore the slight pain that still radiated from his back. “You wouldn’t even make a mile outside the palace gates before I caught up to you. And that’s being generous.”

“Is that a challenge, old man?” you teased, teeth nipping down his jaw and neck. “I bet it would take you longer than a day to find me.”

“Oh really?” Boba couldn’t help the small smile that slipped onto his lips. He loved the playful banter the two of you sometimes shared. It always led to you in his bed, trapped between the mattress and him for hours on end. “What do I get if I win?”

It was Boba’s turn to tease you now and his lips started to trail down your neck. He stopped right over your jugular, sucking a dark spot on the soft skin. You tried to hold back the breathy moans that threatened to spill from your lips. “If you win, you could do whatever you want to me for a day.”

“I’m going to need a little more than that, princess,” he smirked against your skin. “What’s stopping me from taking what I want from you right now since you’re already under me?”

“Fine,” you relented. “A week.” If he won, it’s not like you were actually losing anything. A week filled with Boba doing whatever he pleased to you left you wet and needy beneath him.

“That’s more like it,” Boba growled before he pressed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. He wasted no time before he licked into your mouth, moaning as he forced you into submission. 

“But,” you broke off the kiss, chest heaving. “If I win, you need to take a break from hunting. A real break.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, princess,” he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently. “I’ll have you back in my bed before the suns are down tomorrow. Then the real fun will begin.”

“Not if you can’t catch me, old man,” you winked before pulling his lips back to yours. 

Tomorrow, the hunt will begin.

___

“You can just forfeit now,” Boba hummed against your neck, pulling you tightly against his chest. It was the next morning and you were grabbing last minute items to throw in your satchel. You had everything a girl running from her bounty hunter lover could need- credits, food, change of clothes, and your blaster. “I won’t hold it against you. I’ll still uphold my end of the bargain and keep you in my bed for a week.”

You’ve never rolled your eyes harder than you did in that moment. “You know,” you turned in his hold and looked up at your lover. He was dressed in his armor except for his green helmet, ready to hunt you down and take what was his. “You’re awfully cocky for an old man. Aren’t you supposed to be done with such childish things?”

“Ha-ha,” he rolled his eyes. Boba brought a gloved hand to your face, gently cupping your cheek. The mischief in his eyes was replaced with seriousness. “Be careful, princess. Check in with me every few hours so I know you’re okay.”

“I will,” you turned your face into his palm, kissing the worn leather. “I’ll miss you.”

“Don’t worry, little one,” he glided his thumb over your cheek bone. “We’ll be back together before the suns set.”

“I think you’re underestimating my ability,” you placed a light kiss on his lips and pulled away before you could get lost in his touch. “I learned from the best, after all.” You started towards the large palace doors, satchel over your shoulder. The large doors opened with a creak. Excitement and adrenaline pumped through your veins. You’ve never been on the run before, but the thrill of Boba tracking and hunting you down was electrifying. Realistically, you knew Boba would find you fast on the desolate planet of Tatooine. The only advantage you had was that Fennec was driving you to Mos Eisley where you could hide more easily in the busy city. An enormous disadvantage you had though was that Boba knew where you were going. Even if you tried your hardest, you knew you couldn’t run away from Boba and keep him off your trail for long. Eventually, the skilled bounty hunter would find you and claim his prize; most likely before the end of the night. Joining Fennec on the speeder, you waved back at your lover before you sped away from the palace, wind whipping through your hair.

___

Mos Eisley was crowded with people. Shop owners were selling their various goods, hollering to potential customers to come view their wares. Food carts were everywhere and gamblers sat at their tables, playing sabacc and dice. Only a few fights broke out amongst people, but for the most part their shouting and yelling was drowned out by the din of the busy, sandy streets.

Fennec had dropped you off at one of the cantinas before speeding off on the bike. While she was a master of disguise and able to blend in plain sight, the news of Boba’s successful coup had spread and Fennec Shand’s name was in every vagrant’s mouth. She preferred to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

You had no idea where you should go or start. While you had teased Boba that you would be able to outwit him and that he wouldn’t be able to catch you, you realized that maybe you were in over your head. I mean, how were you supposed to outwit and win against the best bounty hunter in the galaxy? It wasn’t a title that he just gave himself, he rightfully earned it. Boba Fett was infamous- everyone knew who he was.

And you were supposed to be running from him.

Okay, yeah, you were screwed. But you couldn’t think like that right now- you had to think quickly and try to evade Boba for as long as you could. You weren’t doing this for yourself, you were doing this for Boba. He was pushing himself too hard lately, running the crime underworld while simultaneously hunting down his enemies. He deserved to have some fun. You knew he would love this- hunting you down like prey. It played perfectly into the fantasies that lived in his head. While he never voiced them to you, you never forgot the glint in his eyes when he first tied you up. It was only natural that desire fed into this one.

This was for Boba. And you were going to give him one hell of a hunt.

Your eyes scanned the streets of Mos Eisley, trying to think through and reason what would be the best course to take. Originally, you thought losing yourself in the bustling bazaar would be the best idea until you realized that’s exactly what Boba would expect you to do. You had to do better than that, you had to do what Boba would do. Maybe if you thought and moved like him, you could evade him long enough.

Deciding that standing in one spot wasn’t the best option, you started to move your way through the crowd. Your eyes searched high and low for possible hiding places. Boba would expect you to stay in town where you were familiar with your surroundings. When you saw the dewback nestled in a stable, you almost spent all of your credits on the beast. Going out into the dunes wasn’t a good idea, though. Tusken raiders have been moving a lot more than usual in the desert and it would be your luck to get caught by them. Passing by the giant green lizard, you patted its head and sighed. Another time, buddy.

You hadn’t been out to the town in some time. Things had changed in the central hub of Tatooine. While there were always going to be thieves and bandits and vagrants roaming the city, things seemed... more calm. People weren’t scurrying away from each other like they used to, afraid that someone would do them harm. They smiled more, talked with their neighbors instead of hiding their faces. You had never seen Tatooine actually, well, thriving since you arrived on the desolate planet. While you hadn’t resided here for long, you remembered how bad things were when Bib Fortuna ruled the area. Being out amongst the people of Tatooine made you realize that it was because of Boba that things were better. Yes, he was a crime kingpin, and yes, he knew how to be ruthless; but the people were so much better off with him in the Hutt palace than they’ve been in centuries. The thought made pride swell up in your chest. Your Boba was making this shithole of a planet just a little bit better.

“Do you miss me, pretty girl?” Boba’s gravely voice sounded over the commlink, startling you and the dewback you were still petting. Fumbling for the comm, your hands were shaking just from hearing his voice, you brought it up to your lips.

“Not at all,” you tried to sound nonchalant and not like he just scared the shit out of you. “Haven’t been to town in a while, it’s nice.”

“Well I miss you, princess,” his voice made your knees weak. He was far away from you, yet just the timbre of his words made you needy. “It’s only been a few hours but my cock is already throbbing with how much I need you.”

“Boba,” you scolded, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as onlookers gave you a look. They had heard him, of course. “You can’t... say those things right now.”

“Why?” he chuckled. “Did someone hear? Are you still in the bazaar?”

“Uh, no.” Shit, you were bad at lying to him.

“So you are in the bazaar,” you could visualize the smirk that you knew was on his face. “Mind picking me up some of those berries you love so much? I love the way they make your lips taste.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet. Giving the dewback one last pat, you rejoined the busy crowd. Boba was getting closer to Mos Eisley and you didn’t have much time to find a good hiding space. You had to think fast.

“What, you’re not talking to me now?”

“I’m not not talking to you.” Switching the commlink to run through the small earpiece lodged in your ear, you noticed a small inn on the corner of the busy street. Maybe that would be a good place to lay low?

“Okay, then just listen, princess,” his voice was rough and made you whimper. You could feel how wet your underwear was becoming just from his voice alone. Good thing you thought of switching the audio of the commlink to your ear or else everyone would hear the filthy words Boba muttered. “When I catch you, and I will catch you, I’m going to tie you up and take you right then and there. I don’t care if anyone is around us, I’m going to make you scream and beg for my cock so everyone knows who you belong to.”

You had to find a hiding place and fast. Just hearing his words was making you soak through your underwear and you needed to get away from this crowd of people. “Promise?”

“Oh, I promise, sweet thing.” you were certain that he had a sly smile on his face under the helmet. “I’ll find you before the suns go down and claim my bounty. You’ll be the sweetest reward I ever get.”

You didn’t care if you lost the bet. Moving towards the small inn, you glanced down at your watch, noting the time. “You’ve got 5 hours until they set. Come and get me, Fett.”

“With pleasure.”

___

The inn was your best option in the small city so you purchased a room. Boba was just now leaving the palace, ready to start his hunt. While it wouldn’t be much of a hunt for him (you were too easy of prey), you were certain he would love his reward. The room was small, sandstone walls that held little to know decorations. There was a bed with simple colored sheets and a small bathroom attached. It would be enough for what you had planned for your hunter. 

You got to work.

When you were packing your bags this morning, you made a big show of grabbing only the necessities. Boba was trailing behind you the entire morning, his hands never left your waist. He was constantly trying to convince you to stay home with him and to give up the bet, but you didn’t fall into the temptation. You knew he would absolutely love hunting you, even if he never said it. Besides, you wanted to give him a real treat for when he finally caught you. Before she picked you up, Fennec had gone back to your chambers and collected the black bag with the items you had packed away while Boba was still asleep. That black bag now sat on the bed.

The satchel held what you needed for tonight. Candles, ropes, a brand new lingerie set you knew Boba would rip to shreds once he saw you in it. The black lace was beautiful and soft. Just imagining the look on Boba’s face when he sees you in it made desire pool low in your stomach.

You still had a few hours until you were sure he would find you. Fennec was nice enough to lay down a false trail to make things more exciting for Boba. What a nice lady when she actually wanted to be nice. You moved to the fresher and began to peel the clothes from your body. Even though you weren’t physically running from Boba, the day spent wandering through the streets of Mos Eisley left a thin layer of grime coating your skin. You wanted to be nice and clean for when Boba finally caught you. Turning the fresher on, excitement settled in your bones at the prospect of tonight.

___

Boba Fett had been on the hunt all day. The twin suns of Tatooine were moving low in the horizon. Sunset would be within the next hour.

Good thing Boba had already found you.

Once he realized Fennec had laid down a false trail for you, it was easy for Boba to find your real trail through Mos Eisley. Hishelmet allowed him to see your footprints in the sandy streets. He followed your every move, placing himself in your steps and lived out your day hours later. He noticed that you had stopped at the stables for some time, and when Boba asked the stablemaster about you, he learned that you spent a good part of your day petting the dewback the man owned. His heart thumped at the thought of you petting the great beast. Boba knew you used to have pets and that you missed caring for your animals dearly. He would have to get you one soon.

The suns were just starting to fall behind the sandy dunes of Tatooine when Boba arrived at the small inn. After tossing a few credits to the owner, he learned which room you were staying in. Boba could feel the excitement build up inside of him, just like it did when he was close to his other quarries. Stopping in front of your door, his cock throbbed painfully in his trousers at what would happen when he caught you. Boba didn’t wait a moment longer before turning the handle.

The room was dark, save for a few flickering candles that were scattered throughout the room. His visor easily switched into night vision to allow him to see, but he wanted to experience this with his own eyes. Lifting the helmet, Boba’s eyes rested on your figure and his cock jumped at what he saw.

You were lounging on the bed, scantily clad in black lace that barely left anything to the imagination. His eyes roamed up your body and admired the lace that hugged your curves perfectly. When he got to your chest, he noted that a small carton of berries rested on top of your cleavage and that you were lazily bringing the ripe fruit to your lips. Boba wanted to reach out and feel those lips on his own and taste the tartness of the fruit.

“Bout’ time, Fett,” you fished around in the carton before you found a particularly ripe berry and popped it into your mouth. “Was thinking you’d never find me.”

“I’ll always find you, princess,” his voice rumbled through his chest. “Looks like I found you before the suns set, too.” Boba nodded towards the small window, pointing out the setting suns. “I win.”

Picking up another fruit, you brought it to your mouth and bit it slowly, the juice spilling out and running down your chin and chest. You gave Boba a seductive grin. “Come and get your prize, my king.”

Boba’s eyes visibly darkened with lust and a growl sounded from his chest. His strides were long and quickly closed the distance between the two of you. Scrambling on top of the bed, he moved the carton of berries over on the side table. Boba dropped his head to your chest and ran his tongue over your breasts, licking the sweet juice off of you. A breathless moan left your mouth and your chest arched into his touch. His hands were rough as they grabbed at your wrists, bringing them up and above your head. Boba reached for the cuffs attached to his belt and snapped them into place around your wrists. He had you now.

“You thought you could run away from me, huh?” his voice was deep and gravely, sending waves of desire south. Boba grabbed the rope you had set aside on the table and tied your already cuffed wrists to the headboard. “Thought that you could outsmart me?”

His leather-clad hand trailed up your chest and settled at the base of your neck. When you didn’t answer, his fingers wrapped around your throat and gave it a slight squeeze- not enough pressure to cut off your air, just enough to slightly restrict your blood flow. “Answer me, girl.”

“No!” you gasped. Boba would never hurt you, you knew this, and this whole scenario was just pretend- all for Boba. That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it too, though. You easily slid into your role. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

Boba hummed at your apology and released his grip on your throat. Air flooded into your lungs. Before he returned to touching you, Boba brought his hand to your lips. “Bite,” was all he said, and he nudged the soft leather between your teeth. You pulled off his gloves with your teeth before letting them fall to the bed. He returned his hands to your body, his warm skin sending shivers down your spine. His fingers were calloused, weathered from years of fighting. Hands moving to your breasts, Boba took them in his hands and gave them a squeeze. 

“Fuck, you look so good, princess,” Boba moaned at the soft feeling of your breasts in lace. Pulling down the lace cups, he released the soft flesh. He brought his head down and licked at one of your pert nipples, hand massaging the other. His mouth was warm over the sensitive skin and it felt delicious. He rolled his tongue over the bud before giving it a slight nip. A sharp gasp escaped your mouth and Boba chuckled. “Easy there, little one.”

You couldn’t help but whimper when Boba’s mouth switched to your other breast. His hand traveled down past your navel and cupped your warm pussy. “Look at this bounty,” he growled into your skin. His forefinger slid your black panties to the side and into your wet folds. “So wet, and all for me.”

“Yes,” you whined when his finger slipped past your tight entrance. He slowly pumped his thick finger in and out of your pussy, his lips trailing over your breasts while leaving marks across your chest. The rough pad of his finger brushed against the small bundle of nerves inside and your back arched at the sensation. “All yours! Fuck, Boba, please, I need you inside of me.”

Heading your pleading, Boba pulled his finger from inside of your cunt. You missed the feeling of being full by his fingers- he had barely touched you and you already started to feel the frustration tear up in your eyes. He didn’t pull his finger fully away- thank the Maker- instead, he began to circle your clit slowly.

“You need me, princess?” Boba nuzzled his face against your neck, nipping at the skin over pulse point. “Hmm? Need my cock inside that pretty little pussy?”

“Yes,” you moaned. You couldn’t take these teasing touches anymore. Pulling at your restraints to reach for him, you learned that there was no way you were getting out of those without help. “Please.”

“I don’t think you deserve it.” he pulled his hand away from your aching pussy, completely. Now the tears really started to well up. You tried to show him how much you needed him through the look you gave him. “Good girls don’t run away.”

“Boba, I’m sorry, I-“ you were cut off by your own yelp of pain when he brought his hand down on your ass. The pain turned to pleasure when he started to rub soothing circles into the reddened skin.

“Good girls listen to what they’re told,” Boba grabbed at your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. The rope attached to your cuffs and the headboard tightened with the torque of you flipping. His fingers gripped the thin fabric of your panties and pulled- torn fabric falling to the bed. Boba’s hand came down on your ass again before rubbing the flesh. “Are you going to listen, princess?”

“Yes, I’ll listen- I’ll be good!” you cried into the pillow your face was buried in. You could feel his hands massaging your ass cheeks, playing with the pillowy flesh. Arching your back, you pushed your ass back into his hands, displaying your sopping pussy for him.

“Good,” Boba praised while taking his hands away from you. You almost whined out again when he removed his hands from you, but when you heard the zipper of his pants being pulled down, you relaxed and arched your back more. Boba took his hardened cock in his hand and brought it to your soaking pussy, rubbing the hot head through your folds. He kept running it through your slick, gathering as much of your arousal as he could. The tip of his cock brushed against your clit and you let out a breathy moan.

“Boba, please,” you moaned into the pillow. He was teasing you- he knew this, and he made sure that you sure as hell knew it. He kept brushing it over your clit, holding it there for a second- the pressure was delicious- before dragging it back down to your entrance. It was tantalizing- agonizing.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Boba chuckled at your begging. He notched the head of his cock at your entrance and pushed in. “I’ll put on a good show.”

The feeling of Boba splitting you open was something you’d never forget. No matter how many times the two of you had been together, you never got used to his size. It was both painful and pleasurable during that first thrust of his hips. His cock stretched your velvety walls almost to their breaking point. Pain dissolved into pleasure as he fully sheathed his cock inside of your dripping pussy. You couldn’t help the cry that fell from your lips- you were just so full.

Boba’s grip on your hips tightened when he started to thrust into you, setting a bruising pace. Moans of pleasure slipped past your lips and landed on the pillow. You tugged on the restraints, trying to ground yourself from the intoxicating pleasure. Boba’s hips snapped against your ass and the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin reverberated off the sandstone walls.

“Fuck, princess,” Boba’s arms wrapped tight around your waist, tugging your hips back in time with his thrusts. You were so tight around him- a vice in the best way possible- squeezing him just right. Boba dropped his mouth to your back, kissing and biting marks against your skin between his grunts of pleasure. His hands roamed up your stomach to your breasts, cupping them with a squeeze. The black lace was still in the way, keeping your soft skin out of reach. He made quick work of the thin lace and the ruined material joined the tattered pieces of your underwear. You were completely bare before him now and Boba growled at the sight- you were breathtaking. “So-so good, so beautiful.”

Boba’s name was constantly falling from your lips. Each brush of his hard cock against your velvety walls brought you more and more pleasure. It pooled low in your stomach and spread through your veins. “Wa-want to t-touch you.”

Boba didn’t reply, instead he reached above you for your restraints. He made quick work of your bindings and soon enough you were free. Boba wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you back against him. The cool beskar of his cuirass dug into your back and imprinted its shape into your skin. Boba dropped his head to your shoulder and nuzzled his face into your neck. Hands roamed up your stomach and cupped your breasts. His large hands pushed and pulled at the soft flesh, pinched your peaked nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. At this new angle, Boba’s cock brushed against that bundle of nerves inside of you.

“You’re mine,” Boba growled into your neck, nipping and kissing purple marks into your skin. His teeth sank into the junction of your neck and jaw, tongue swiping over the fresh mark. All you could do was nod and moan in agreement- he kept pounding into you at just the right angle that was making you see stars. His hands kept roaming over your body, kneading whatever skin he could get a hold of. Your arms were reaching up and behind you, holding his head against you so his lips never left your skin.

"Fuck, you feel so good, princess,” Boba moaned against your neck, lips trailing up to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the shell of your ear. “Do you feel that, baby?” Boba grabbed one of your hands that was holding his head to your skin and dragged it down your body before resting over your stomach. His large hand rested over yours and pressed it into your skin. “Do you feel my cock deep in your stomach, little one?”

You did. The feeling of his cock pushing deep inside of you made your stomach bulge out slightly. The feeling of Boba using you to reach his high drove you to your own.

“Boba, I-” you were cut off by your own moan. His cock kept brushing against the bundle of nerves inside of you. It was driving you crazy.

“I know, princess,” Boba nipped at your ear, growling out your name. “Come for me, little one.” The arm around your waist pulled you tighter against him while the other trailed down your stomach to where he was pounding into you. The rough pads of his fingers dropped down to your clit and began to rub quick circles into it. “Come all over my cock.”

His words in addition to the motions of his fingers and thrust of his cock inside of you made the metaphorical dam inside of you break under the pleasure of it all. Your orgasm spilled over and flooded your veins, waves of pleasure wracking your body. The feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him drove Boba closer to his own high.

“Fuck, princess,” Boba moaned lowly in your ear whilst pulling out of you quickly. You missed the feeling of being full of his cock but before you could whine out a complaint, Boba was flipping you over onto your back. He grabbed your ankles and tugged you to the edge of the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist. Boba dropped his forehead to yours and his hot breath fanned over your face. He pressed a searing kiss to your lips and drank in your breathless moans. The feeling of him pounding into you was almost too much- you were so sensitive from your previous orgasm. “You take me so well.”

“Come inside of me, Boba,” you bit down on his bottom lip and he growled. “Fill me up.”

“Fu-fuck, princess!” his hips stuttered against you as his balls pulled up tightly. He ground his cock inside of you and he came hard, his cum painting your walls. The warmth of his seed and the throbbing of his cock sent you over the edge again. Your nails trailed down his muscular back, leaving angry red marks over his tan skin. Boba settled inside of you and moaned your name against your soft lips. He trailed kisses over your face, lightly kissing your chin, cheeks, nose, eyelids, before placing a final one to your forehead. Hands came up to cradle your face and he placed another kiss to your hairline. 

“You did so well for me, little one.” Boba nuzzled his face into your hair and tucked your head under his chin. He rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him. His beskar armor was cold against your skin but you didn’t care. Boba’s arms were around you and his cock was still buried inside of you. He placed another kiss on your hairline. “Sorry if I was a little rough with you.”

You placed a kiss to his green cuirass. “I didn’t mind. I like it when you get a little rough.” Boba chuckled underneath you and he brought his hand to your hair, combing through the tangles. “Though, I’m not sure my outfit liked it.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “I’ll buy you a new one. Any color you want.”

“Hmm...” you hummed in contemplation, trailing your finger over his armor. “Maybe a dark green one? With red accents? I’d like to match your armor- maybe even wear your helmet while you fuck me.”

His cock twitched inside of you at your words. “Don’t make any promises you can’t keep, little one.”

“Oh, that’s a promise I fully intend to keep,” you leaned up and pulled him into another kiss. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, biting gently. “Just like I intend to uphold our bet.”

“I can’t wait to take you on every surface of the palace,” he pulled you into another kiss, licking into your mouth. “I bet I can make you come so much that you won’t be able to walk straight for weeks.”

“Is that a challenge, Fett?” your hips shifted slightly, his cock hardening inside of you. 

“It’s a promise.”

[pedropascalssimp]

Princess

Boba fett x bounty hunter reader

Request: Could I request you something Boba Fett x Female!Reader... some very tender, fluffy? But still, I would very love a real tender Boba for maybe his long time partner ? Like his precious little princess, even if not official but his only one... See ?

Warnings: soft boba fett, but still the grumpy stubborn ass we all love

👉👈🥺💕 FLUFF EXTRAVAGANZA!!!! language. Short(I'm sorry it's short)

Tags: @anilynworlds I'm sorry if it sucks it was a bit rushed because every time I try and write everyone around me decides to make my life a living hell😣

The green and lush planet was by far the most peaceful planet you've been to yet, it was calm, nature making its own soothing melody as you sit by the crackling fire, watching the dancing flames, the Amber's wafting into the night air and dissappearing. You was seated on the ground, back leaned on a log as your partner in crime cleans his blaster pistol. Dark eye's focused on the thing while he was still wearing his beskar armor, his helmet discarded beside him. You couldn't help but admire how the dancing flames casts a beautiful glow on the man, highlighting his features as he concentrated on the blaster, brows furrowed as he cleaned every crevice of it.

The orange hues made his tan skin glow, he looked ethereal under the moon and fires light. The mere sight of him sending your heart into a fluttering mess.

It was merely hours ago when you and him returned to the remote area you had landed Slave I, you having talked the man into building a small fire and joining you outside for the night. For this planet was beautiful and you dread going back to tatooine to return the quarry to jabba. So with much begging and pleading, you convinced boba to sit outside with you.

"you're staring..." he muttered while his gaze was still on the blaster, a smug grin slightly tugging at the corners of his mouth. Boba fett was no fool, he knew that your feelings ran deeply for him, it always left him baffled that someone as gorgeous as yourself could love a ruthless, merciless bounty hunter like himself.

"no... I'm admiring" you correct him with a smile, his eyes finally looking over at you. His blaster now laying with his helmet as he stands up. Walking closer to you. You watch how he plops down beside you, his back leaned against the log now.

"so you're not mad anymore?" he asked with a lifted brow, referring to today's events. Ah, the ever lingering annoyance of how boba flirted the information he needed to find the bounty out of a rather pretty worker at the cantina you both stopped by in search of the quarry that laid prisoner in your shared ship. Although boba refused to label whatever it was you both had in fear of putting you in danger, because everyone he ever loved was taken from him...you knew you was in love with the bounty hunter. And with his tender actions and displays of affection, you knew he felt the same. Especially when you laid in his arms at night drifting to sleep, or when you'd awake to the taste of his soft lips against your own, muttered words of affection.

You scoff at his word's and shake your head, "why would I be mad?" you spoke bitterly, more harsher then intended. Boba simply gives you a amused smirk.

"you tell me princess, I'm not a mind reader" he said, his voice more melodic then the sounds of nature around you. Sighing you simply give him a side glance and almost melt at his damned amused expression, it was cute. And here you was calling the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy cute.

"I don't see how flirting with that woman was the right way to go about getting information" you let the words slip before you could think them over, but it was to late now. For they tumbled out.

Boba, although wanted to laugh at the fact you was feeling a little envious, found himself staring at you blankly. For you shouldn't ever feel that way, his heart belonged to one person in the galaxy and she was sitting beside him.

Boba leans closer to you and cups your face, making you look over at him. "you've basically ignored me the whole day because of that? Mesh'la..." he trailed off, admiration sparkling in his dark eye's. You sigh and feel like an idiot for hating how his gloved hand left a fleeting touch on the woman's face, modulated voice spewing compliments at her. But why should that have made you feel like you did, annoyed and upset.

Especially when you have the privilege of hearing his raw, natural voice, feeling his warm skin on every inch of your own. The feeling of His lips engraved in your memory. You was the luckiest woman in the galaxy, for you heard sweet words roll of his tongue every morning when you woke in his arms. Eye's looking at you with pure love.

You smile at boba and avoid his gaze, feeling like a fool for acting like you did when all he was trying to do was make this hunt quick.

"you do realize that you're the only person in the galaxy I can tolerate right?" he said, adding humor to his loving words. "you're the only one for me princess, I know I may not show it that much but... I care about you mesh'la" he muttered, eye's flickering from your eyes down to your lips that slowly lift up in a smile.

"you show it boba... I'm just an idiot sometimes and get annoyed when you flirt with other people, even though I know you really don't mean a word you throw at the them" you say and Lean into his warm touch. Heart melting at the way his eye's look over you with adoration.

"you're not an idiot" he chuckles, placing a kiss on your forehead before leaning his own forehead on yours. Eye's closed as yours flutter closed. "if it was the other way around I'd kill the person you flirted with... So it's understandable that you was annoyed with me" he muttered, you snort at his words and pull back to smile at him.

"trust me boba I know you would, you nearly killed that man who looked at me in that damned place" you muse, remembering how his hand twitched to grasp his blaster pistol and shoot the man who sent a wink your way.

"I know I've never said this out loud princess, but I - I think i love you" he whispers and his eyes gaze into yours with a sparkle you've never seen before.

You felt your heart do a flip and a smile spread across your face, "I love you too boba" you say, placing a hand on the back of his neck, fingers slowly running through the dark curls, his hair soft as silk.

Boba pulls you in for a soft slow kiss, his lips fitting perfectly against your own as he takes his precious time. This kiss wasn't like the usual rough paced lustful kisses he usually gifted you, his movements wasn't rushed. The kiss was gentle, delicate. Languid as he slowly trailed his hand that rests against your cheek to the back of your neck, causing you to hum into the kiss.

But boba fett was ever the tease and pulls away all to quickly for your liking and smiles at the pout on your face. "we should probably get some sleep, we have to leave early in the morning" he reminds you, causing the pout to deepen.

"do we have too?" you whine, and whenever he gives you a stern look you know you wasn't getting your way.

"unless you want to deal with a very pissed jabba, I'd suggest you get ready for bed" he said while standing up, scooping his helmet into his arms and picking up the blaster he had discarded. "be sure to put the fire out" he gives you a nod and heads to the ship. You watch him walk away with a fond smile.

After putting the fire out and making your way to the ship, you walk inside your sleeping area and spot boba in the cot and already under the furs. His beskar neatly set aside by the foot of the cot while he looks up at you, arms opening beckoning you to join him. So after taking your weapons off and uncomfortable pants you quickly crawl in bed and into his awaiting arms.

You snuggled into his warmth, head rested on his chest while your palm was pressed to his heart, feeling its beating. His arms wrapped around you tightly, cradling you against his chest as if he was afraid if he didn't you somehow drift away.

Though boba fett was a man who never showed emotion, he always displayed affection and love for you. His precious love, his princess.

And just as you was drifting off to sleep his words of sweet little things was the last thing you heard.

[beskar-cowboy]

A Close Call

Part Three of The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight Series

Summary: After bounty hunting in the jungle, Mando comes back to the Crest with many pent up... feelings. (6k words) ao3 link here

Warnings: NSFW, smut, canon typical violence, descriptions of injuries, blood, yearning, mutual pining, rough sex, the helmet stays ON, breeding kink if you squint cause its Mando, also no season 2 spoilers

A/N: this series will be uploaded in a non-linear order! i realize that this way of doing things might not be everyone’s favourite so please let me know if you would like to be notified when all the parts are uploaded (which will be linearly in my masterlist) <3

The sweltering heat was heavy, drowning you in your own sweat as you walked deeper into vines, tall grass and thick foliage of the unfamiliar jungle.

The air was humid, the forest vast and dense, filled with shades of greens that you never thought you’d experience with your own eyes. You were seeing colours you had only previously dreamt of. It was such a stark contrast to the ice planet you had been on maybe a week prior to this. You weren’t sure which extreme you preferred but you were not the biggest fan of the way the humidity was making your hair puff out, curl exaggeratedly and stick to your neck and forehead with the sheen layer of sweat coated on every inch of your body. Your clothes were beginning to stick to your skin as well.

Mando was a fan of that, however. Yet the helmet gave away nothing, as always. 

The moment you landed on the planet, he noticed the way your chest heaved, taking in the supple, fresh air for the first time. The look of wonder in your eyes, taking in the flora and fauna you could only have only ever dreamed of previous to this. You were very endearing, it made his heart feel heavy, tense, as if you were squeezing it in your perfect little hand, bleeding him dry.

You couldn’t believe this was your life now; travelling with a deadly bounty hunter, caring for him and his adoptive child day and night. What was even stranger, perhaps, was that you were having the time of your life.

No matter how cold Mando could be, how rude, closed off or just straight up silent he could get some days. You wouldn’t trade it for anything. This was much better than your life on that dingey planet, working that dead end job in the scummiest bar in town. You tried not to think too much of your past, but you couldn’t help the few untamed thoughts that crossed your mind every now and then. You shrugged them off with relative ease, usually being whisked away in some task the Mandalorian asked you to complete, or by the cries of the Child.

No matter how hard the days could get, no matter how lonely you felt some nights, you were thankful for the loving affection of the kid, you were thankful for how much he seemed to care for you. And you cared for him in return. Not because it was what you signed up for, to more or less be his babysitter, but because you truly cared and maybe even loved the little green booger like he was your own. He was very sweet, kind, curious and reckless like Mando. You liked how they seemed so similar in some strange little ways, it made your heart feel heavy.

Heavy with some emotion you wouldn’t dare name because it would only fuck you up further, fuck up the missions, fuck up your tasks, fuck up everything. That sickening feeling you got in the pit of your stomach everytime you caught Mando talking to the Child, staring at him sweetly, catching the way he seemed to stare at you sometimes too. At least you think he was. Whatever, that helmet made it near impossible to ever tell what he was thinking, feeling or even just looking at.

No matter how little he was actually beginning to warm up to you, he was still extremely apprehensive and closed off. He had his moments of perceived kindness, gentleness or whatever it really was, but he always seemed to take five steps back when he realized he had been too vulnerable with you. 

You couldn't blame him though, he was on the run from people who were trying to take the kid from him, or busy chasing after bounties himself, he didn’t have time for… whatever it was you were feeling. Whatever emotion you were terrible at suppressing, you know without a doubt that Mando didn’t have time for such trivial, childish things.

You huff and look down to your side, the Child’s pod floating seamlessly along your side, the two of you just a few steps behind Mando.

The Mandalorian was tracking a bounty and he said there was a good chance he’d be on this jungle planet seeking refuge with a friend or something like that. You had literally begged him to come along, not wanting to spend another day alone in the ship with the Child. It had taken a few days to get here, and you desperately needed to stretch your legs and breathe some fresh air. Mando was reluctant, very reluctant, but after enough begging and pouting from you he allowed for the two of you to come along, figuring it would be a pretty easy quest anyways.

Oh how he was wrong about that.

His visor display was showing multiple footsteps having walked in the same direction that the three of you were now walking. The footsteps were strange, seeming to be left by a herd of long bodied, four legged animals. Mando had no way of knowing if they were a threat or not, but he had a feeling he’d be finding out soon enough. The Child’s safety and… and yours was not something he felt like gambling with today.

Mando stopped dead in his tracks and you nearly walked right into him, having been engrossed in a more or less one-sided conversation with the Child.

“Head back to the ship.” Mando commanded, his voice trying to give the sense that there was no room for discussion. He barely even turned around to glance at you, but you noticed his hand hovering over his blaster.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Your own hand now hovers over your own blaster, technically Mando’s but he had trusted you to wield it after that one stunt back on Batuu when you saved him and the Child.

“Animals. Too many of them, you’ll be safer on the Crest.” He turns to glance at the Child who coos back up at him, his ears turning downwards as if he too knows of the animals which creep up on the three of you.

“No, I can stay and fight. I’m not leaving.” You, I’m not leaving you, you want to add. But you bite your tongue.

You can’t see because of the hemet but Mando is rolling his eyes at you, at your stubbornness but also your resilience. How eager you are to stand by and help him almost blindly. He doesn’t doubt that you judge him or criticize him in your mind, but he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a negative comment leave your mouth. You’re always sweet to him. Sweet girl.

“Our job is to take care of the Child, make sure he’s safe,” He huffs, pressing a few buttons on his vambrace and suddenly the Child’s pod is floating away at a leisurely pace, back in the direction you’ve just come from. “Follow it back to the ship, close the hatch and do not leave until I’ve returned.”

You glare at Mando and how he’s given you no choice but to head back to the ship. There was no way you’d leave the Child floating unattend, and without Mando’s directions, you had no way of finding the ship again on your own. You sigh but turn on your heels after the pod, following its lead through the jungle and back to the Crest like Mando had programmed it to.

//

It’s been hours.

Or at least it feels like it’s been hours. You aren’t aware of the planet’s day cycles so you have no idea if it's been minutes, hours or days but it was dark now and you’d been trying to keep the kid occupied, distracted from the fact that his dad wasn’t here and you had no idea when he would be.

Luckily, the Child was in an agreeable mood so he was distracted pretty easily, playing with various shiny things that he usually reached for on the ship. You made him a couple of snacks with what you managed to find stashed away, he took a nap and you cleaned up the tiny mess he made. Overall, a pretty good day for him.

You on the other hand, were fucking stressed.

It was dark, really dark, and Mando hadn’t even contacted you on the comlink, not that he even did that before but you think that if he comes back- no, when he comes back - you’re definitely going to make that a new rule.

The Child was rocking sweetly in your arms, you had been trying to get him to fall asleep for the past thirty minutes and he was finally getting a bit dopey. Those big eyes of his seeming to get heavier, his blinks growing slower. His little hand was wrapped around your thumb and you quietly hummed a random song to him, maybe it was one your mother sang to you, you’re not quite sure but it seems to be doing the trick.

You can hear small disturbances outside the hatch and you use your hand which isn’t holding the Child to hover over your- Mando’s blaster. You lean against the wall, blaster in hand, hoping, praying it’s him.

Please be him, please be him, please be him.

The hatch groans as it releases its locks and opens slowly to the ever humid jungle. That familiar beskar glints and shines in the moonlight like a precious jewel. You exhale a much needed sigh of relief, Mando was back.

You tuck the blaster back into your holster as you watch him roundup the quarry into the ship, pushing him aggressively up the inclination. He stands wide, broad and big as he does his job. He’s tired and annoyed, you can tell. You can always tell, but he’s strong too, always strong.

The quarry’s hands are shackled, his face beat up and bloodied. Mando really did a number on him… 

The quarry’s eyes meet yours, take in the sight before him, a beautiful young girl cradling a strange little green baby. He seems confused, he looks back to the intimidating Mandalorian inquisitively. It’s the last thing he sees before he’s frozen into carbonite.

You say something something to him, to Mando. You sound worried, but he can barely make it out. He had seen the way the quarry’s eyes racked the length of your body, landing on the Child as well. Mando saw red, his adrenaline still pumping heavy and potent in his veins, coursing through his body from the chase, the act of hunting. 

So much so, that he hadn’t even realized he had come to tower over you, caging you in against the wall which you had been leaning against.

You look up at him with wide, worried eyes, you look flustered, lips red and swollen. He wants to touch you, he… he wants to do more than touch you-

The Child’s sleepy cooing breaks him out of his wicked mind. He looks down at the kid who reaches for him sleepily with his tiny hands, eyes half closed. He takes him from you, out of your motherly hold. Your hands brush and he wishes he wasn’t wearing gloves.

“W-What did you say?” He finally asks, remembering you had said something to him and he heard absolutely nothing.

“I said your arm is bleeding, Mando.” Voice so small, gentle. 

Mando huffs, barely acknowledging it before he steps away from you, turning to the Child’s pod and placing him gently inside. It closes with a hiss. You suck in a shuddering breath.

Mando rummages around for a few moments before pulling out his tool kit, sitting down on the edge of his cot and pulling out his taser-like contraption. You watch almost dumbfounded, trying to piece together what exactly it is he’s doing. He reaches for the tear in the thick material of his sleeve, pulling on it and tearing it further to better show off his wound and his… his skin.

Flesh. Mando’s arm.

Maybe you weren’t supposed to be looking, maybe you were breaking his creed by seeing part of his skin but you couldn’t look away, and he made no motion for you to do so either. So you stand transfixed as he begins to shoddily cauterize his tanned skin.

“L-Let me help you, please.” You take a step forward, towards him, hands reaching out.

“I’m fine.” He basically growls at you, his rough tone startling you, stopping you in your tracks.

So you stand by idly, watching him burn his own skin, attempting to close his open wound.

You only interject again when he starts taking longer breaks between each electrifying tase. When his hand starts to shake and his movements slow down, motivation and determination leaving him as he slowly accepts the pain of the deep gash on his arm, blood trailing down his toned bicep.

“Here…” You say quietly again, hoping he listens to you this time. You reach into the tool kit, pulling out his bacta gel before coming to stand in front of him, your knees grazing his bent one from where he sits on the edge of his cot. 

He seems to have listened, his movements having stopped, the taser held weakly in his hand. You take it from him, setting it back in the metal box before zeroing in on his bleeding cut.

You shudder at the sudden proximity, his pent up adrenaline and anger palpable, intoxicating. It lays thick and heavy in the air between your two bodies. Your hands shake as you gently douse the wound with the gel, trying to stay focused, trying to get the bleeding to stop. You fingers brush gingerly along toned, scarred skin and you try, you try so fucking hard to focus. To not let your fingers linger, not let them wander to regions unknown to any other living thing.

Mando groans as it begins to seep into the wound and you wince as well, feeling his pain as your own. You mumble a quiet ‘I’m sorry’ but continue to apply the thick substance to his bicep. 

His gloved hand suddenly shoots out and latches onto your hip bone, fingers grasping the clothed flesh in a deadly grip, as if trying to ground himself to you, to the ship, to ignore the throbbing pain. You didn’t realize it would hurt that bad, maybe it went deeper than you thought. 

When you’re finally done with the gel, you turn slightly to get some gauze to wrap the wound in. Mando’s touch never leaves you, his hand seemingly welded into your form. His thumb begins to absentmindedly rub up and down in soothing motions, you try to ignore the way it makes your heart pound but… but it's not really a big deal is it? No, Mando’s touched you before, what's so different about it now?

The air? The tension? The way he looks up at you, through that mask, begging to be seen?

God, you wonder what colour his eyes are.

You bet they’re soft, beautiful, kind. They probably give away how secretly gentle he is, something no one else would notice or dare assume about the deadly Mandalorian, but you know. You know because he’s been touching you more lately, especially since the ice planet. Just passing touches but still, you can’t imagine how much significance a simple touch holds for a man covered head to toe in armour, and who’s never shown his face to another living being in decades.

“Who are you?”

His voice startles you. It’s dropped several octaves since he last spoke, it felt like hours had passed since he last spoke- or more, growled at you.

“What?”

“What are you? H-How do you do this to me?” He helmet tilts to the side as he gazes up at you and your heart fucking pounds in its cage, trying to escape and expose itself to this metal man, expose everything you’ve been feeling since you met him.

“Mando-” You don’t understand what he’s saying, he’s not making any sense. Could the pain really be that bad? Making him this incoherent?

“You’re not real… you’re too good, to us, too good to the child… to me-” He was rambling. Mando was rambling. When has he ever spoken this much to you before?

Never.

“You’re good to me too.” You interject meekly.

“But not as sweet… not as sweet as you.” His words make your next intake of breath sharper than usual, no doubt he catches it by the way his helmet tilts up further. You wonder if he’s looking you in the eyes. It sure feels like he is.

“I-I don’t know what I would do if, if anything happened to-” His fingers tense on your hip as he lulls over his words, tossing them around on his tongue, afraid. “The Child… or you.”

“You keep us safe Mando.” You try to reassure him, but you’re not sure if he’s listening. His left hand joins his right one, both sides of your hips now engulfed in his large, strong hands. You throb everywhere, your body pulses for him.

Mando thinks about just letting his helmet fall forward, to let it rest against the softness of your belly but.

But he can’t. He’s too fucking scared. You scare him more than anything. More than any unknown animal in an unfamiliar jungle, more than any quarry, bounty chase, Mythosaur. More than anything, you scare him more than anything because this is the only domain Mando truly always fucks up. Feelings or whatever the fuck going on in his head right now.

“You take such good care of us.” He says, deflecting your words.

He pulls on your hips and you rock forward, almost losing your balance but your hands come forward to lean against his beskar covered shoulders, dropping the gauze you held. You shudder at the cool bite of the metal on your warm, overheating palms. Mando barely budged at your added weight, and you look down at him from where you now tower over him.

Your eyes rake over the sharp edges of his helmet in the low light of the hatch, down to his wound which still needs to be wrapped up but he was... Seriously distracting you for lack of a better word. You notice the heave of his chest, the heavy fall of his breaths like he’s having trouble getting oxygen into his body. And then you notice- you notice the bulge forming underneath his thick pants.

Mando takes you in as you do the same, watching as you finally notice his state, finally notice what you do to him. What you’ve been doing to him since the moment he met you.

“Take your pants off.”

You think your brain short circuits.

Because there’s no way that’s what Mando has more or less just ordered you to do, judging by his harsh tone.

“Wha-”

“Take them off or I will.” He groans, hands squeezing your hips again.

You whimper and bite your lip, trying to see through the pitch black T of his visor, trying to find the man underneath the beskar. You remove your trembling hands from his shoulders, standing up straighter and letting them travel down, down, down towards the button and fly of your utility pants.

“M-Mando, I-”  

“Don’t make me ask you again, sweet girl.” You whimper at the nickname, it wasn't the first time he used it but this was probably only the third time at this point. With his thumbs relentlessly caressing your hip bones, you shiver underneath his touch.

You had been dreaming of this for months now, dreaming of his hands on you, sexual or not, you were so deprived of intimacy, having gone months now only barely touching, grazing each other. You both needed this, both needed this more than fucking anything esle right now and you were no one to deny him of what he wanted.

Mando keeps the helmet trained on you as your nimble fingers pry the button open, admiring how easily persuaded you were by his thick, lust-laced words. He couldn’t believe he had managed to draw this out as long as he did, his urge to just tear your clothing away from your body and sink his raging cock into your tight heat the moment he entered the Crest was…. overwhelming to say the least.

But he had barely touched you up until now, and he wanted to work you up to it, no matter how much restraint that meant he had to have on his part.

The sound of your metal zipper sliding down below your belly button tests that restraint. He keeps his eyes on you even though he knows you wouldn't be able to tell where he’s looking. He knows you feel it, knows you feel the way his eyes burn holes into you, devouring you silently, pleading with you, please, please show me.

He feels your hands come to rest over top of his gently, as if you’re still nervous about touching him. You interlace your fingers with his and lower your pants, shimmying them down your hips and thighs together. It makes Mando’s breath catch in his throat and his heart pummel in his chest. 

Never had he undressed someone before. Never had the patience, never cared to. But with you, oh with you.

Maker, did he care.

Maybe cared too much, but now was not the time for such ill inducing thoughts. You were becoming more and more bare to him as the seconds passed. You only let go of his hands once your pants went past your knees. Pushing them down to your ankles, you stepped out of them, kicking off your boots as well.

There you were, standing before him in a black tank top and that fucking thong of yours… of course that’s what you had decided to wear today. Mando groans as his hands come up to touch you again, tentatively this time. He can’t believe you were allowing him this, letting him touch you, letting yourself be vulnerable with him when he wasn’t sure how ready he was to be vulnerable in return.

Maybe he could learn.

His hands travel up to your hips again, toying with the thin waistband of your panties, letting his gloved hand run along your pristine flesh that was once covered in ugly bruises. He-

He thinks he wants to be the only thing to bruise you. From now on, he made a promise to himself (and to you, secretly) that he was the only thing in this galaxy that could mark you up, claim you.

Mando’s hands travel back, reaching for the supple meat of your ass, clutching it in his large hands, kneading it before he pushes you forwards again, into him. You yelp as you land in his lap, catching yourself quickly as both of your knees rest on either side of his hips. You readjust and sit back down, your minimally clothed cunt coming to land on his hard bulge, you gasp, eyes wide as you look into his visor. He was so hard, he felt big too.  

“S-Sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“What are you apologizing for now, hmm?” He asks tauntingly, helmet tilting slightly to the side, as if he were considering you. 

His gloved hands come up your sides, going underneath your tank top and brushing along the underside of your breasts, feeling the tight skin. You unintentionally rock in his lap, creating friction on your already embarrassingly wet center. Mando’s hands tighten at your sides, groaning as he tries to still your movements but. But it feels too fucking good to stop.

He brings a gloved finger to your lips, running the worn leather over the pillowy flesh as if to let you taste it. You look at him, confused.

“Bite.” He instructs, voice clipped, sharp. 

Without needing further instruction, your teeth latch onto the absolute tip of his glove, letting him slip his hand out of its leather confines, revealing to you the most precious amount of skin of his you’ve ever seen. 

Tanned skin, thick fingers, large palm, perfect. Him. The urge to litter the rough calloused skin in kisses, lick his entire hand, just put the whole fucking thing in your mouth was all consuming. Yet you sat there in his lap staring at his hand like it was a vase of water and you were a flower, parched for water. He asked you to do the same with the other glove and of course, you did as he asked. You quickly found yourself wanting to please him.

You stared at his bare, rough, strong hands in awe, watched as he let them peek underneath your thin top to skim along your silky smooth flesh, an expanse unknown to him. His fingertips brush over your nipples, feeling how the pretty buds pebble for him. He twists and pulls them in between his fingers, watching the way your face contorts in pain and in pleasure. It’s his new favourite thing, he feels drunk off of you already.

“Please.” You aren’t quite sure what you’re begging for, Mando isn’t really sure either. But he knows one thing, and it's that the sweet sound of your voice, begging for him, begging for anything, just so desperate, was enough to make him cum in his pants. His fingers dig into your skin, trying to cool his overheating mind, trying to slow down a bit before he actually does cum in his pants, before he’s even properly seen you.

His bare hands come down to your panties, toying with them again between his agile fingers.

“You want this?” He asks, daringly pushing your panties to the side, getting the smallest glimpse and your slicked up and drenched pussy. He thinks he could die right now, die happy, never want anything, ask for anything again.

“Yeah, yeah I do, always- have.” You choke on a hiccup, emotions welling in your eyes already from how fucking built up all of this is. You feel like you were both about to burst at the seams. You still couldn’t believe this was happening, even if it were to stop now and not progress any further, you couldn’t believe he had allowed you this much of him.

Mando wraps his arm around you completely, gripping your waist tightly to spin you around, pinning you underneath him in the tight space of his cot. You gasp, shriek at the sensation of it all, as he comes to rut against you, grinding his thick bulge into your cunt.

You notice how his arm has begun to bleed again, the skin ripping open and the deep red liquid trickling down what little part of his bicep was exposed, further proving his humanity, exposing the man beneath the beskar. You really felt like you could cry.

Lost in your whirlwind, Mando pulls off your thong, throwing it somewhere unpreciously behind him before doing the same thing with your tank top. Completely vulnerable, you laid bare before him as he hovered above you, covered head to toe, save for his hands, in beskar. That fact alone made you throb deep inside. The sheer power and size of him enough to get you off. 

You knew what little he had already decided to show you was all he could afford, you were so grateful for it anyway, that he was even willing to show you his hands, the little glimpse of his bicep. His skin was beautiful, but you couldn’t possibly grasp the words to tell him.

So you hook your legs around his backside and pull him to you, silently begging him to do something, anything. You would take anything he gave you, you’d even thank him for it at this point.

“Fuck.” Mando growls, bare hands coming to work at unbuttoning his pants, pulling them low enough to pull out his engorged, thick cock.

Mando was… he was huge.

This came hardly as a surprise to you, however. You would have had to be blind to not noticed how he walked. He walked like it was big, talked like it was big, fought like it was big. But fuck.

You were not prepared for that.

“Mando, I-I don’t know if it’ll-”

“It will.”

You moan and arch your back towards him, needing it now, needing that sweet burn and stretch that you know is about to come.

And oh does it come.

Mando thrusts into you without further warning, giving you no time or preparation to adjust to what he was packing. 

He makes you take it. He makes it fit.

The stretch burns, it bites and it knocks every single breath and thought from your body as he nestles himself all the way up against your cervix. Your body convulses in retreat, trying to push him away from the aggressive intrusion but your mind wants more, needs more. Needs him to fucking split you in half on his cock.

You scream and Mando growls, loud, his helmet falling forward and resting in the crook of your shoulder which meets your neck. His helmet is cold and your skin is burning hot, it creates a fog on his visor and he desperately tries to wipe it off on your skin, trying to look at you so up close. The way your eyes screw shut, squeezing tears out, watching the beautiful dew drops roll down your cheek so perfectly.

It hurts. Maker, does it hurt but fuck does it feel good. The pleasure overrides the pain more than you could imagine and you find yourself begging him to give you more even though he’s already started thrusting into you like he’s on a mission, a mission to sever you in half with his cock.

He was surely succeeding.

Mando watches you cry in pleasure as he fucks into your pussy with such aggressive fervour, like someone had a gun to his head. One hand on your hip and the other around your neck, bruising your skin in that beautiful way he always wanted, how he always dreamed of. He holds you in place so that his hips don’t drive you up his cot because they surely would from how fucking deep and hard he’s pounding into you. Stars, you think you can feel him in your stomach, in your throat.

The hand on your hip travels up to one of your bouncing breasts, kneading the sotf flesh in his palm and watching you wither beneath him. So desperate -

“S-so helpless.” He moans, watching your body bend to his will beneath him.

“Mando- oh my god.” You cry, hands and arms flailing at your sides, not knowing where to put them. Mando sees your struggle and takes both of your hands into each of his, pinning them above your head and using it to drive into you even harder somehow.

Your pussy squelches obscenely, trying to suck him in deeper, keep him inside forever. The only sounds in the cot are fucking lewd, skin on skin rhythmically slapping. You pray the Child can’t hear any of this from inside his pod, you pray he’s asleep.

“So fucking wet... You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” You nod your head so fast you think you’d give yourself whiplash.

“A-Anything, anything Mando- fuck.” That familiar coil was beginning to tighten in your belly, your toes curling, fisting gripping onto his, no doubt cutting off some of his circulation.

Eyes rolling into the back of your head, your chest arches up, up, up your breasts rubbing against unforgiving beskar. 

Underneath said beskar, Mando felt like he wasn’t getting nearly enough oxygen into his helmet, his skin flushing underneath the heavy armour but the pleasure rolling off of you and into him would be enough to sustain him for hours, he thinks.

Your pussy was squeezing him so tight, the ridges of your inner walls so soft, warm, wet, inviting. You felt like home. Absolutely fucking drenched, no wonder you were able to take him whole with almost zero preparation, you had fucking wanted it that way. Wanted him to be rough like this.

“I’ll never leave- never leave this sweet pussy...” He moans, hips stuttering, rolling and grinding deeper and deeper and you felt your orgasm quickly approaching, his words were only bringing you that much closer.

“Please, I- I…”

“Cum for me ner mesh’la, need you to cum for me.” He groans, cool and sharp edges of his helmet resting on your cheekbone.

You envisioned the faceless man deep inside you, what his face must look like now, deep in the throes of pleasure only inches from yours. You pictured the tanned skin covering his entire body head to toe, flushed and splotchy, hot to the touch. 

Would his eyes screw shut? Would his mouth hang open, little pants, groans, moans slipping through swollen lips, only loud enough for the ears of his lover to hear?

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you try to look into his visor as your orgasm wipes your mind blank, eyes screwing shut, an endless stream of tears falling onto already damp cheeks as you moan and cry his name into the tight space of his cot.

Mando.

Mando.

Mando.

You don’t think you could recall anything if anyone asked you. Not the name of the planet you were currently on, not the name of the planet you were born on, the bar you used to work at, your old bosses name, your name. Nothing.

With two, three, four more thrusts, Mando’s hips still after he drills himself into the deepest and darkest parts of your hot cunt, spilling white hot cum into you with the lowest moan you think you’ve ever heard flowing deep from within his chest. You gasp at the sensation, that warm pleasant feeling of being absolutely stuffed full, somehow more than you already were.

He draws his cock out before pushing it back in, plugging you up with his cum, pushing it deeper and deeper inside of you. You cry, bordering on overstimulation, his cock only softening in the slightest so the hard intrusion was almost too much for you to bear.

“Fuck Mando I’m- I don’t have the implant..” You whimper, suddenly worried, voice coming out uneven with your ragged breaths. 

Mando feels another surge of blood to his cock at your words, groaning as his dick twitches and thrusting into you a few more times…. For-

For good measure, he thinks.

Not that he would necessarily want that right now but fuck. Fuck did the mere idea of it make him painfully hard against his own will. You…. swollen with-

“Fuck.” He growls, pulling away from you a bit to better look down at you. Your eyes are shiny, lashes coated thick and wet with your precious tears. Lips swollen, chest flushed. You look worried, but beautiful. His. 

Mando remembers your old job at the bar…. Wouldn’t they have made it mandatory for all the girls to have the implant to prevent them from getting pregn-

“But- your job, you-?”

“I didn’t do that, I didn’t fuck them… just drinks.” You smile up softly at him due to fatigue, bashful nonetheless. 

Mando likes that, it puts him at ease in some fucked up way to know that those men in those types of places couldn’t get too far with you, even if they wanted.

“We can, I can get it for you on the next planet if- if that’s what you want?” He asks, hips still gently thrusting into you and you start to see stars behind your eyelids. You whimper, feeling his cum mix with your and gush back onto his cock and down the backs of your thighs.

“O-okay… thank you.” Mando nods but says nothing, pulling his cock from your fluttering pussy. You gasp at the sudden loss, feeling terribly empty and used. More cum dribbles from you and you quickly cup your cunt with your palm, trying to stop it from leaking everywhere on his cot.

Moving quicker than you would have expected him to, Mando stands up straight and tucks his wet cock back into his pants before walking away abruptly. You, however, barely notice as you lay flat on your back, head staring up at the ceiling with eyes closed, trying to catch your breath, regain some sense of self after getting all of it fucked out of you.

You’re made aware of Mando’s return by the touch of a warm and damp washcloth to your abused pussy. You gasp and sit up on your elbows, looking down the length of you to see the Mandalorian between your thighs, wiping away the mess that both of you made. Together.  

You want to thank him again but you can’t find the words within you, all of them lost to you because of this sudden display of dare you say affection.

“Stay here, gonna put us into hyperspeed. Once we’re up there, go clean up.” Mando orders softly, nodding his helmet at you. You nod back, still breathless, still shaking.

[dandelionflower]

She hikes alone

Marinette skipped to her friends, tapping Adrien on the shoulder before hugging him tight.

“Hey, Princess,” he gave her a smile that melted her heart, “we were just talking about things we could do on our free day.”

He gestured to the class, who were all deep in a debate over ice cream place or pizza parlor.

“I was thinking we could go to a park; a new friend of mine has a couple of places we could check out. I think it would be really good as a lazy activity to get rid of jet lag, or in Kim’s case, excess energy.”

“Sounds really nice!” He smiled and began to open his mouth to tell them; he had become Marinette’s representative to the class, when Lila stood up.

“Hey guys! What if, since today doesn’t have anything planned, we went to a park and hung out?”

“That’s a genius idea, Lila!”

“I could play frisbee!”

“I’d enjoy observing the local flora.”

That’s genius Lila. You’re so smart. Marinette growled under her breath, Lila obviously overheard her talking with Adrien and took credit for her idea.

“I actually know some parks we could go to, from when I visited with Jagged Stone a few months back. We could go to one of those, if you want?”

“That sounds great Lila!” Adrien cut in before Marinette could protest. “Let’s go now!”

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to her as the class cheered and stood up, “I’ll make sure we go to a nice park.”

That’s not what I’m worried about. Marinette thought as she watched Lila attach herself to Adrien’s arm.

She followed at a fair distance from the class; not by choice, her friends just seemed to speed up whenever she tried to walk near them.

“Marinette!” Grace tapped on her shoulder, a broad grin on her face. She was wearing the headband. “Where did you decide on going?”

���A park.”

“That’s great! Which one are you going to? Because if you haven’t decided, I have a ton of great places for you to go...” she plucked some pamphlets from her back pocket and displayed one. “I think this one would suit your needs best.”

“Thanks, Grace, but...” Marinette spared a glance at the pack of students, led by Lila and Adrien. “I think it’s already been decided.”

Grace’s expression soured. “Okay, but keep ahold of that pamphlet, will you? You might end up finding time to go.”

“I hope I do.” She waved Grace a quick goodbye and dashed back to her friends, who were already going through the door.

—

They hopped on a bus and Marinette smirked as Lila worried her lip, eyes darting towards every sign that could possibly lead her to a park.

As fun as that was, Marinette quickly got bored and began perusing the pamphlet Grace handed to her.

Quarry Stone Park

Known for its towering pillars of black stone, it is rumored that Quarry Stone Park was where the brick for the famed Culpa Manor was mined.

While the parks naming is rather obvious, it also contains many hidden paths, leading to waterfalls, gem-filled caves, and even the ocean.

A popular landmark of the park is Quarry Ledge, which overlooks the ocean. The natural black spires and stark white sands make for an amazing view.

That’s where we should be going, Marinette mused, not wherever Lila’s going to take us.

“Here we are!” Lila sang. “The best park in the whole town.”

Sure... Marinette glanced at the rotting wooden sign, the crumbling letters reading, Wooded Glade Park.

The class ran in, Alix already tossing a frisbee for Kim to catch. Adrien fell back and greeted Marinette with a silent smile and had just grabbed her hand when everyone fell silent and stared at the open field surrounded by borderline rotting trees.

“Uhh, Lila?” Ivan asked, shielding Mylene’s eyes from the mistreated plants. “Are you sure this is he place? It looks a little run down.”

“Definitely!” Lila protested, and though her back was facing Marinette, she could almost see the false tears welling up in her eyes. “I- I don’t know what happened; it used to be so beautiful... I’m so sorry everyone.”

“What if we helped you clean it up?” Rose offered. “Got rid of any trash and planted some flowers!”

“Yeah!” The class cheered, voicing their agreement.

“You- you would all do that for me?”

“Of course!”

“I can’t believe this! I... thank you!”

Mylene pulled Ivan’s hand from her eyes and glared at the offending trees. “Babe? I need a lift.”

Ivan picked her up and placed her onto his shoulders.

“Alright everybody!” She shouted, voice abnormally loud. “I need someone to carry heavy stuff, a couple people for trash and, Marinette! Can you organize our efforts?”

She smiled and was about to pull out her notebook, when Lila opened her mouth, which had proven to be a tragedy in itself.

“I don’t know guys, remember how late Marinette came in? She didn’t even get to have breakfast, we don’t want to tire her out what with the jet lag and all. I can just organize, you know I was an organizer to a famous charity.”

“That’s a great idea, Lila! I’ll help!” Adrien leaned over to whisper in Marinette’s ear. “Don’t worry, I can keep her out of trouble while you just relax and walk down one of the trails, it’s a win-win.”

But I want to walk the trails with you...

She smiled, gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked to the closest trail as fast as she could so Adrien couldn’t see the tears collecting in her eyes.

She loved how selfless Adrien was, she did. It was just... he never seemed to choose her.

She stood there for a moment and allowed herself to cry. This was supposed to be a fun trip where she could hang out with her boyfriend and friends as they all explored her favorite place in the world.

Marinette finally looked up and observed the signs marking the different paths she could take.

Daisy Walkway.

Riverside.

Quarry Stone Path.

Quarry Stone?

Marinette pulled out her pamphlet and compared the names.

Maybe I will get to see Quarry Stone after all.

—

It was a fair hike to Quarry Stone, but it was so worth it.

The trees were lush and green, every bench and table were in perfect condition, people were everywhere, and interspersed across the field were dozens of giant black pillars of rock.

Marinette gave a glance to the other trails.

Waterfalls, meadows, beachside.... there were so many choices.

“Excuse me, sir?” She touched the arm of a nearby elderly man, who was exiting one of the trails. “I was wondering, do you know these trails well? Could you maybe recommend one to me?”

“Never been to Quarry Stone, have you dear?” He gave her a friendly smile.

“No.”

“Well, when I was young and adventurous, I would go on the Nymph’s River path. On a sunny day like this, it’s sure to be a magical sight.”

“It’s cloudy, you old coot!”

A frail old woman in a worn pink dress stumbled from the same path.

“What?” The man put on a thick pair of spectacles and squinted at the sky. “So it is.”

“I’m Henry’s wife, Meredith, and what’s your name, sweetie?”

“I’m Marinette. It’s nice to meet you.” She grinned at the familiar banter that reminded her of her parents.

“Likewise, dear.” A bony hand grasped her own. “Now, what’s a little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

“Um, my class, we’re here on a field trip and we had… a disagreement on what to do.”

“Ah, and they let you do your thing but it’s not as fun alone, is it?”

“No, not really.”

“I’ve got just the place for you dear. Henry, what about...” she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“You’re a genius, Mere. Kiddo, just go down that path,” he pointed her to the forest, “and I promise it will be a sight worth seeing.”

“Okay, thank you both so much!” She waved to the couple as she headed down the path, memorizing their faces in case they encounter one another again.

—

It truly was a sight worth seeing, as promised.

When Marinette finally broke out of the dark greens in the surrounding the trail, she was met by the most soothing sight she’d ever laid eyes on.

She was standing on a large ledge carved out of the hill; metal posts and railings were surrounding the platform. Nothing noteworthy.

But the sight it was there to show was unimaginably perfect. The sand was a pure white, which would have been blinding if it wasn’t for the clouds covering the sun. The stone spires that decorated the entire forest were dotting the beach in all their splendor, rising proudly and casting barely noticeable shadows across the sand and the pale, rolling waves.

She leaned on the railing; taking in the soothing spectacle. It was almost like she was falling asleep, her consciousness drifting until she had no other thought but the muted colors in front of her...

“Meow?”

Marinette screamed and leapt away from the sound, pushing her back against the railing and gripping it with both hands likes she was on a crashing elevator.

A black cat with startling blue eyes stared at her, tilting its head in a quizzical motion.

“Mrrrrrr.” Was its only reaction to her panic.

“He- hello?”

It stared at her waved hand, like it was the most interesting thing it had seen.

She held it out tentatively, in an open gesture, leaving enough space for it to leave.

It stared at it for a moment longer before tentatively leaning forwards to place its head in her palm. It purred as she scritched its chin.

“What’s your name, kitty?” She mused. “Garfield? Like the Culpa that started the mansion?”

It leaned its head into her pinky in a silent gesture to go on.

“Harriet? Darrian? Abigail?”

No cigar.

“What about Culpa?”

The cat purred and nuzzled her hand with a vigor.

“Culpa it is.” She brought her other hand to pet at the newly-christened Culpa’s ear.

Culpa mewled with a satisfaction that seemed... almost human on the face of the pitch cat.

—

The rest

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