mandoloriancookie

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Touch: Part 9

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din x f!reader (no physical descriptions, no use of y/n)

Chapter Summary: Exploring the Mines of Mandalore is a lot more dangerous than you expected.

WARNINGS: very graphic depictions of physical violence. Canon material to season three of the Mandalorian, SPOILERS, reader gets an injury, smutless, sorry everyone.

w/c- ~11k

a/n- if you read this on ao3, no the fuck you didn't. Reworked, slightly edited-- still unbetaed so all mistakes are on me.

Grogu sits in your lap while you look out of the front window of the cockpit. The child warbles softly and tucks himself into your robes. Din looks over at Grogu, and you now complete with black mechnosutures covering the three slashes on your face. You’re headed towards Mandalore, you can see it now. It’s covered in storm clouds and you can barely see the planet hiding beneath them.

“It looks scary, I know.” Din reaches and gives Grogu a squeeze. “It used to be green and beautiful once, when the songs were written. That’s Mandalore. The home-world of our people.” He tilts his helmet up to you know. “Every Mandalorian can trace their roots back to this planet…and the beskar mines deep within.” 

You keep looking out of the window at the dark planet in front of you. It’s heartbreaking knowing what the Empire did to it. 

“That’s where I grew up--n that moon.” Din points out the window to the right of Mandalore, “Concordia.”

Your head snaps to Din. “Wait. So if you grew up on Concordia… have you never been to Mandalore before? Is that why Bo-Katan told you where the mines were?” Din nods. “So…you don’t really know… where you’re going?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“No, I know where to go. You just said, ‘Bo-Katan told me.’” He says evenly.

Oh. Okay.

Not that it changes anything, you'll still walk through those flames down in the mines for Din if he needed you to. “That’s Kalevala. Where we went to see Bo-Katan herself.” Din points to the hyperspace map on the dash of the ship.

It’s further away from Mandalore than Concordia but still within the same system. 

“I like Bo-Katan.” You said suddenly as Din continued around Mandalore. “She seems nice.” Din chuckles when you say that. Why was that funny? What was so not nice about the woman that it made Din laugh? You eye him suspiciously. “What? Is she just being nice to me to make me look dumb or something?” Din snaps his head at you quickly.

“No. No, not at all. She doesn’t think you’re dumb. Quite impressed with you, actually.” He rasps from the Captain's seat.

What the fuck does that mean?

“Impressed with what!? I guess it's... nice that she thinks that, but I’ve barely met Bo-Katan. We’ve said maybe ten words to each other. How could she know?” You’ve now turned as well as you can in the co-captain seat, being strapped in and all. 

A loud groan escapes from the helmet. “I... might have talked about you,” Din says it like he doesn’t want to. Like it might have been something he took to his grave if you had never asked him about it. “While you were away. I may have mentioned that you were training with the Jedi and that I maybe…missed you. Wished to see you.”

Your jaw drops. “You said that to Bo-Katan?” Your word filter must be broken because the words come out before you can sift through them and pick them apart and make them sound less… dismayed that those words could come out of Din to another person. About you…

“We spent a lot of time together. We talked. It’s how the lightsaber was brought up. She searched for a saber made of beskar.” Din explains and your heart beats quickly in your chest.

Are you in love with Bo-Katan? She’s the one who suggested the beskar lightsaber? You’re a fool to think that she’d do anything with Din when she’s clearly in love with you too.

You stare at Din for a long time. “I’d like to be her friend. A real friend; I’ve only got you and now the two of them.” You look to Grogu in your lap and R5 who has seated himself on the right of you, as far away from Din as he can possibly get. Din doesn’t say anything, he just keeps looking forward towards Mandalore. “What? Do you not want me to have friends?” You huff softly and look straight ahead as well. 

“Bo-Katan can be…intense.” Din said after a couple moments. “Intimidating. Even to me sometimes.” You look over to Din and shrug your shoulders. 

“I’m not scared of h-”

“ I never said I was scared of Bo-Katan.” Din interrupts you. “I said she was sometimes intimidating. There’s a difference.”

You shake your head at Din and roll your eyes. “Well, you’re intimidating. Maybe she’s just matching your energy. What would she even try to intimidate me for?” You turn your nose up to Din for not wanting you to have friends besides a robot and a green child. And himself but you’re mad at him now so you’re down to the two friends. Just the two. 

“You’d be surprised.” Din shakes his head at you as you begin your landing on Mandalore. 

“Surprised? She’s just a woman, Din. She might have beskar and a helmet but so do you and you don’t scare me.” You look over to him again and it's clear that he’s chuckling quietly under his helmet. 

“I surprise you though, don’t I?” Din turns his helmet to face you, still chuckling.

You don’t even have a response for him because he does. Every interaction with this man has left you surprised after. Every single one. 

“I’d like to have a slumber party with her, once we’ve explored Mandalore and you’ve taken your bath. I’d like to go.”

Din shakes his head at you.  “Not happening.”

Din presses some buttons on the dash and you watch, making sure to remember what he’s doing even if he doesn’t tell you.

Why doesn’t Din want you to have a best-friend that isn’t him? He is intimidated by Bo-Katan. Intimidated that you’ll want to hang out with her and spend time in her beautiful castle and sit in her fancy stone throne? He keeps you trapped on this hunk of metal soaring in the stars.

Okay... not really. You’re here completely of your own free will. Din would drop you off at Canto Bight tomorrow if you told him you wanted off. But you don’t. You love this ship and your three friends.

“We’ll see.” You snap as turbulence starts to make the ship shake. “I hate this part.” You close your eyes and hold onto Grogu tightly.

“Open your eyes. Watch what I’m doing.” Din starts flipping switches and pressing buttons. “This one stabilizes the ship’s thrusters so you stop shaking so much.” Din has his finger on a black button next to seven thousand other identical black buttons, he presses it and the ship starts to just vibrate instead of shake violently. 

“Okay.” You hold Grogu up so he can see what buttons Din’s touching on. “Can you see?” You look up to Grogu and he nods down at you. 

“This one drops the landing gear.” Din presses another button on the other side of the dash. The ship jolts twice as the landing gears drop down on both sides. “This one sets off the landing thrusters so that we don’t drop down at full speed.” Din presses that button and the whole ship jolts again and starts to rumble. “You remembering all of this?” Din asks, looking over at you.

“We might need to label them, but yeah. I got it.” You nod up at Din. He shakes his head. 

“No labels. You just know.” He looks back down at all the identical buttons on the dashboard he’s looking at. There are ten thousand screens and about twenty million buttons and the only thing that differentiates them is their colors. The three Din just pressed were all black. 

“How am I supposed to just know right from the jump? They all look exactly the same. How do you just know?” You almost sneer at Din because what does he expect from you? The closest you got to a cockpit before you knew him were the games at the arcade! You tell him this and he just shakes his head.

“You have to learn. That’s why I’m showing you.” Din motions his hands over all the buttons. “You’ll figure all this out. Don’t worry.” You sure will figure it out because you’re gonna label them. You’ll label them so good. You nod at him and flick your eyebrows up one time. 

“Oh, I’m gonna learn them. I sure will.”

Din tilts his helmet to the side. “I don’t know if I like the way you said that.” The ship touches down as Din finishes speaking and you un-clip yourself from the seat and hold Grogu close to you. Din places his hand on your lower back as he leads you into one of the weapon rooms of the ship. 

Din grabs his blaster pistol– an IB-94 you learned recently, off the wall and holsters it to his belt. Then he reaches for something you had never really paid attention to before, you thought it looked like the clip to one of his weapons or maybe even a small held hand taser gun version of the Amban–which was gone now, sadly– but Din grabs it off the wall and holds it in his hand. 

“Do you know what this is?” He asks, holding it out to you.

You take it in your hand and almost fall to the floor with it. Din takes Grogu from your arms and you hold the cool metal grip in your hand. You shake your head as you tinker with it, struggling to keep it in your hand because of its intense weight. Then you see a button.

Din has already taken several steps, still holding Grogu, and is covering the childs eyes. 

Pressing the button unleashes a white plasma blade shaped like a sword. It almost knocks you back into your ass, but the metal table behind you feels you upright as it skids across the floor noisily. You're forced to walk backwards with your lower back pressed against the cool edge of the table until it crashes into the wall.

You had never seen or held a lightsaber like this before. Why was it so much heavier than all of the others? It felt like it was buzzing in your hand, not vibrating softly like your own on your belt already. No. This one felt like you were holding a container of angry kouhun bugs in your hand; they were jumping and flipping around in there waiting to escape to come sting you and with their assassin venom. Kill you. This thing felt dangerous. 

“A darksaber." You sigh in dismay, holding it out in your hands away from you. It was like the thing was alive and had a mind of its own. So much power in your hands. “This is the darksaber that sliced your leg, isn’t it?” You glance over to Din, who is now standing in the hallway watching you from a distance with the child, his hand is still over his eyes. 

“What?” He calls out to you from the hall.

You roll your eyes and try to tame the power you're holding onto tightly but it is hard. It feels like what the lightsaber felt like when you held it for the first time back in the Jedi temple. Like there was something actually living inside; fighting back against your touch in your palm. Something that didn’t want to be there and was desperately trying to escape you.

“This is the darksaber that sliced your leg?” You hold it up and show him the blade while you shout at him.

He nods and lets his hand fall from the child’s face like he knows you’ve got control of it and aren’t going to slice your own legs off and traumatize Grogu.

“Who did it to you? Whose was this?” You can’t take your eyes off the blade. It’s white but you can see through it like it’s not a solid plasma blade like all the others. Like it’s hollow in the middle. It’s still buzzing and fighting against you in your hands. You use all the skills and mind calming techniques that Ahsoka taught you back in the temple… it doesn’t work. This thing is fucking crazy. 

“I did.” Din calls back from the hallway. You sheath the blade and stare at him as you hold just the grip in your hand now. “I don’t know how to use it very well. It’s like its…”

“Fighting you...” You finish his sentence.

He flicks his head to you and nods. “Yes. Fighting me.” 

“I’m honestly shocked you even still have your leg.” You set the darksaber down on the table behind you. “That thing is unlike anything I’ve ever held in my life.” You’re in awe of it.

No wonder they call it a darksaber, the thing felt evil… you felt a little evil after holding it. Like you could do something bad. “I don’t like it.” You wrinkle your nose at it after a moment of staring at it. 

“I’m shocked you could even hold it upright while it was on.” Din says as he walks back into the room now that it’s safe. “I try sometimes to work on it but it’s difficult. Less difficult than before, but not something I’d be able to use in a fight if I wanted to win.” Din looks down at you. “Maybe you could teach me.” 

Your jaw hits and dents the metal table you're in front of and you look up at him. 

“Me?” You hold your hand to your chest and look back at the darksaber on the table. “Teach you something?” You’re in complete shock. You’re not a dumb woman. You’re very smart and intellectual. A little conversation starved, yes, in desperate need of an interaction  with someone besides Din and the child and the droid. Still smart, still intellectual but there was not one thing you thought you knew that Din would be interested in learning from you. Now he’s asking you to help him conquer the darksaber. “I don’t even know how to use it.” You whisper up to him. 

“I’d let you work with it first. Figure it out yourself and then teach me. You’re more skilled with the sabers. I’m better with the blasting and flame throwing.” Din touches the pistol on his hip.

You’re still in shock. The fact that Din trusts you with this thing is an honor more than anything. When he met you a little over two years ago this thing in front of you would have sliced your legs right off. Now he wants you to show him how to use it. 

“Okay.” You trace your finger along the darksaber again. You think you feel it buzzing softly still and you take your hand away. “Okay. I’ll figure it out. I can do that.” You look up at Din who was waiting for your response. Din nods and places the darksaber back up on the wall.

Grogu looks at it and warbles. 

“No. I mean it. It’s too big for you now. One day maybe.” Din looks down at the child in his arms. “I mean it. No.” Din points his finger down at him and Grogu wraps the three clawed fingers around his gloves digit. “Ouch. I can see how he got you.” Din says, leaning in to look at the razorblades on the ends of Grogu's fingers. 

“It’s not too bad. He also didn’t mean it. He was just playing.” You give Grogu a couple of scratches along his ears and he sighs and closes his eyes. It makes you smirk. 

“He maimed you.” Din says flatly. 

“You said it wasn’t that bad!” You pull away and bring your hand to your cheek. “You said that when we left the medical center! You lied to me!? I didn’t think you could lie!” You back away from him two more paces and stop. Din cocks his head to the side like a charhound would if you shook some snacks in its face. He stares for a long time that way. 

“Why would I be unable to lie?” He’s so confused. You are too. You didn’t think he was capable of doing that, you don’t know why! Everything he says always just seems so innocent and honest!

“What else have you lied to me about!?” You point a finger at him. “Full of lies. Say I look fine and then say that I’m maimed. Which is it? Fine or maimed? Make up your mind.” You throw your hands up in exasperation and try to find a mirror but there isn’t one on this Maker forsaken ship. 

“What are you doing?” Din asks, following you around as you try to find a flat metal surface to look into. You turn on your heel and storm over to Din. You stand in front of him and grab his helmet with both hands and pull his head down to yours so he’s level with you. Inspecting your mechnosutures in the face visor reflection. 

“I am maimed.” You let his helmet go and you sound downcast, like it’s really true and you don’t want to believe it. 

“You’ll be okay. I didn’t mean maimed.” Din puts his hand on your shoulder. “You’re still ner ad’ika ratiin .” Din says comfortingly. “Even with your evaar’la hokaanir aliik .” You hear Din stifle a laugh from under his helmet.

You frown and pull your shoulder away. “What does that mean?” You grumble. Furrowing your eyebrows at him. 

“I don’t want to tell you.” He clears his throat of the giggles and chuckles he’s hiding in there. “You won’t think it is funny.” Din reaches for your shoulder again. You glare at him. “New cut sigil. You can wear it proudly! They’re your battle scars!” Din tries to make up for laughing at his joke, but he’s trying not to laugh again.

You don’t even wait for him to get the last word out before your strong straight hand sneaks in between the beskar plate on his chest and the one on his shoulders and you jab into his pressure point. 

“New cut sigil .” You grumble as you turn to walk away. Din’s left laughing, holding his shoulder with his other hand. “Are you a comedian? Do you perform at the Canto Casino in the comedy lounge in the night after I’ve fallen asleep!?” It’s said while you throw your hands in the air. “I thought we had mines to go spelunk? You, wasting time making bad jokes.” 

“I thought it was a good one. Because you are fine. Still perfect and beau-” You hold your hand up to him as he follows you out of the weapons room. You don’t stop walking. 

“You don’t get to call me those things anymore.” You turn your nose up and walk faster. 

“Says who?” Din walks quickly, sounding shocked at what you’ve said. He tries to step in front of you but you side step him and he does the same thing. “Says who? Not my little one. No.” Din puts both hands on your shoulder. “You are perfect and beautiful and now… intimidating.” Din says it like he’s trying to convince you that it’s true.

It’s not. You think you look dumb.

“You look like a warrior.” Din whispers through the modulator. 

“I got scratched by a green baby.” You say flatly. You’re unimpressed with his attempts to make you less mad at him for his bad joke.

Din shakes his head. “No. You got these--" He rubs one gloved thumb gently across one of your mechnosutures, "...in the mines of Mandalore. Fighting alongside me.” Din says simply like it’s the truth. “We can lie.” 

You gasp loudly, glaring up at him. “You lie all the time, don’t you!? Just a big beskar wearing liar.” You huff.

Din chuckles softly like you’re the funniest thing on Mandalore right now.

He better watch out, you’re getting your hand ready for that special pressure point of his. 

“We need to send R5 out there before we can go.” Din says, ignoring you. “Will you talk to him? I don’t think he likes me much.”

“So, I know it looks scary out there. But you’re gonna be alright. You just need to go explore a little bit and then come right back and I’ll be right here waiting for you.” You point out of the window. The droid bloops slowly and sounds like he’s powering down. “No. Don’t go to sleep. We need your help. If you go out there and help us, when we all get back to the ship I’ll give you a good scrub and an oil bath? Does that sound nice?” You try and tempt the little droid to go out there like Din wants.

You’d rather go out there yourself then send your second son out there alone. 

R5 scans his little head to look out the window. He bloops once and the beeps, and then his little lights flash on the front of him. 

“Thank you.” You sigh. “Now go on and be careful. Hurry back to me, okay?”

Din’s watching from the doorway of the hull shaking his head. You walk back to him and Din shuts that door and then drops the ramp for the little guy. “You don’t have to talk to him like he’s a child.” Din says as the two of you watch him roll down the ramp.

You glare up at Din once again for the second time since you landed on Mandalore. “He’s like a child. He’s small and innocent and just wants to be scrubbed and bathed. Probably would like a snack if he could eat one. He is a child and I care for him.”

“You’ve known him for two days.” Din’s unimpressed with you. “I thought the Jedi didn’t get attached.” He tilts his helmet down to you when the droid rolls out of sight. You think it’s funny now when Din turns his head to look at you because you know that he doesn’t need to. His screen allows him to see you even though he’s looking straight ahead. He could see you like he was looking right into your eyes. 

“I knew the baby for two days and I cared for him.” You say matter of fact and look out the window and see that the droid is gone. “How long do we have to wait?” You ask Din impatiently. 

“C’mon. We can watch him on the scope in the cockpit. Din grabs your hand and leads you quickly to the dash and points at the radar screen. “Look, that little red dot is him–” He stops talking and keeps his head still and then speaks. 

“Don’t be a baby. Just take the samples and get back here.” Din says into the comms in his helmet. Then he goes back to pointing at the radar.

“Be nice to him! He’s doing you a favor.” You grumble and look at the screen Din is pointing too. 

“He’s doing what I bought him to do. Paid good credits.” Din shakes his head from behind you. He’s hovering over you and brings one hand to your ass to squeeze it gently and massage your flesh through your pants. Grogu babbles from the captain's chair and Din rips his hand away. 

“Yeah. Got distracted and forgot the kid was here.” You mock him teasingly. You do push your ass back into his hips though, the hard beskar presses back against you tightly as he grinds his hips into yours subtly. You watch R5 through the monitor. His little red dot is rolling right along and then it disappears. “Where did he go?” You ask, looking back at Din over your shoulder but the screens on the dash all start to dim and flash softly. 

“R5? Come in R5.” Din speaks into the comms of his helmet but he must get no response. You and Grogu watch Din with fear in both of your eyes. “He’ll be fine, it’s probably just interference.” He doesn’t say it convincingly enough for you or the child and you give Din a look. 

“A child Din. He’s like a child.” You’re not messing around. Din needs to go find your other son. 

“Ugh. Okay fine. I’ll pressurize my helmet and suit. You two sit tight.” Din leaves the cockpit and Grogu watches out of the windows as Din walks around to the front of the ship. 

“Are you okay?” You ask through the ships comms. He nods and you both hear the thunder rumbling in the distance. 

“The fusion– disrupted the– field around the planet. Down– on the surface–, you won’t be able to– with anyone– of the atmosphere. It sounds like it might be disrupting the– out here as well. Don’t—- if you can’t get in—with me. I’ll— back.” Din explains but he cuts out multiple times. You kind of get the grasp of what he’s trying to say and before you can say anything back to him he’s already walking away, out of sight behind a split in the rocks shooting up from the ground. 

Din is only gone for ten minutes maybe before you hear grunts and growls coming from the coms of the ship. They’re cut out but it doesn’t sound like Din was trying to talk to you, it just sounds like fighting and shouting and– blasting!? Din is using his blaster pistol already?

You feel so helpless because you don’t even have a suit– that lying sack of shit!

He never planned on bringing you into the mines! You don't had a suit to go with him! Din is a beskar wearing liar, and you’re mad at him-- But his sounds of distress coming through the com-link are stressing you out enough to make you forget your anger. 

“Din!?” You call out into the coms. He doesn’t respond, it's just more garbled noise and growls and grunts coming through the ship's speakers. “Din!? What is going on out there!?” He still never responds and eventually the comm cuts out completely and you’re left in complete silence.

You stand up and look out the window, waiting for him to come back. “Come on.” You whisper to yourself. Your hands grip the edge of the dash so hard you break two of your fingernails. “Come on .” It’s a plea for him to appear from behind the rocks. The coms never come back on.

Grogu babbles softly and is looking up at you with the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“Okay.” You sigh it out like you’re trying to make yourself believe that everything is going to be okay. You’re shaking because you don’t know what you’re going to do. You haven’t stopped looking out of the windows for Din but he never comes. “Please.” You whimper, the helpless feeling starts to grow inside of you. You swallow hard when the thought comes into your mind. “Okay.” 

You wait another ten minutes for Din to reappear from behind those rocks. You never take your eyes off them but nothing comes. Not even R5. 

“Okay.” You remove your shaking hands from the edge of the dash and pick up Grogu. You set him into the co-pilot's chair and strap him in. He gives you a questioning look. “We have to save your dad somehow, don’t we?” You ask him as your trembling fingers fumble with the clips and clamps. You have to slow down and breathe and kneel before Grogu. “I’m scared.” You whisper to him. “I’m more scared than I’ve ever been in my whole life. I just need you to trust me and help me if you can. Okay? Use the force if you have to but I need to get this ship off the surface and I need to call Bo-Katan.” Grogu warbles as if he’s trying to encourage you. 

The captain's chair feels different now as you strap into it. You look at all the buttons and try to replay what Din showed you when he explained how to take off. Your fingers glide over all the buttons carefully and you press the one in the top left corner and the ship starts to rumble as it always does when it starts up. You laugh, pleased with yourself and your still shaking hands move to the green button on the side of the dash. As you go to press it the child babbles happily from the seat beside you and you see Din and R5 walking from behind the rocks. You sigh and shut the ship back down. 

“Why was the ship on?” Din asks through the coms. 

“Because I thought you were dead!” You shout at him. “I heard all this commotion, and you didn’t answer me. I thought you were gone! I was going to get Bo-Katan’s help!” You snapped at him through the window. 

“I told you not to worry.” Din says as he gets closer. He looks up at you through the windows.

“And the atmosphere ?” You snark at him, remembering your lack of a suit and helmet. Din nods. 

“Breathable. R5 gave me a reading back in the cave. Are you ready?” Din asks, like he could sense that you had been doubting him, not trusting that he would do what he said.

You nod at him silently through the window.

"Okay then, I’ll drop the ramp.” Din starts towards the back of the ship and you grab Grogu, having to unstrap him, and set him in his floating orb as Din walks back onto the ship. 

“I’m glad you’re okay. You scared me.” You look up at him as he takes his place by your side. 

“I don’t want to bring you down there. But I told you I would. You need to listen to everything I tell you. Pay attention. Don’t stray from me. This is dangerous. More dangerous than pirates and Gorian Shard’s destroyer.” Din’s voice is serious.

You nod your head in understanding and not make any smart comments in fear he might leave you on the ship if you do.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

The three of you– you made Din leave R5 back on the ship now that his job was done and he could take a nap while you guys explored. The cave's entrance was dark and it smelled awful.

“Do you not smell that?” You ask, covering your nose with your elbow. 

“Have your lightsaber ready.” Din ignores you, so you just follow his directions–like you’re not super fucking excited to possibly use your new lightsaber on someone.

Din takes one step in front of you and leads you into the mouth of the cave. Whatever Din had been fighting comes into view.

They're big, ogre looking type creatures-- and they fucking stink.

“Alamites.” Din explains when he sees you looking at one. 

“Did you bring the darksaber?” You ask, inspecting one of the trolls wounds. A cut that looks like it had been cauterized in places.

Din nods. “I was barely able to wield it.” He shakes his head in frustration. “Got the job done, though.” Din motions you forward. “You’re going to have to hold onto me tightly.” He says as he wraps his arm around your waist. 

“Why?” You ask, your head turned upwards looking at the huge dome top of the structure above you. It has holes and big open gaps from where the bombs fell so many years ago. Din holds onto you tightly and takes one step forward and you’re falling down. So far down. You cling to him, your arms around his neck and look down. 

“Oh my Maker.” You close your eyes and press your face into the crook of Din’s neck. You stop free falling and now, you’re slowly dropping through the air. The roar of Din’s jet-pack is deafening. 

“I really need my own helmet, and possibly my own jet-pack!” You yell into Din’s helmet.

He nods and keeps his grip around your waist as you two touch down onto the ground. Your feet search for the ground and they land on something metal. You step back from Din and your foot almost goes over the ledge you’re on, but Din reaches for your wrist and pulls you back into him. 

“The mines are further down there.” Din points to where you almost just fell to. “Please. Be. Careful.” Din grabs your waist again and you wrap your arms around his neck as he takes two steps off the ledge. 

“Hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it.” You grumble to yourself with your eyes still closed. The only good feeling about any of this is Din’s arm wrapped around you. It reminds you of sitting in his lap in the hotel room on Tatooine. That brings you good feelings and the next thing you know…your feet are wet and you’re standing in a muddy brown puddle. 

Din takes your hand and leads you forward. Everything down here is so big. You’ve never been in any mines before. You had no idea if this is how they all looked or just the ones on Mandalore. You trip twice because you’re not watching where you’re going.

“Wow.” You whisper in awe at the sheer size of everything around you. “I wonder what this place was like before the Empire got their fucking hands on it.” You can’t even control yourself in front of the child. What the Empire did to the people of Mandalore and the planet they lived on was disgusting. An atrocity. 

“Song worthy.” Din says simply like he’s thought about it before or maybe having the thought right now like you are. It is getting darker and harder to see now. Din turns the light in his helmet on and somehow the child also turns a light on from his floating orb. You’re stunned. 

“I didn’t know you could do that.” You look down at Grogu in amazement. “What other cool stuff does your bed do? I thought it just floated.” You cannot believe it and you can also not believe that you’re the only one without a light. You glance and Din and in a flat tone tell him once again, "I need my own helmet."

“We’ll work on it.” Din responds as he looks for a way to go. The three of you enter a dark room and Din holds his arm out to stop you. “Wait here.” Din takes a couple steps into the room and looks around. His helmet and light fall on something stuck under the dirt and dust. You watch as Din leans over and picks whatever he found up and once he unearths it, you see it’s a helmet just like his. It’s dusty and broken. You are hoping he doesn’t turn around and offer it to you like it’s another one of his bad jokes.  

Something rumbles beneath your feet and you take three steps back and Grogu stays beside you, following you. You’re suddenly lost in a cloud of dust as something shoots up from under the sand where you had just been standing. You press the button on your lightsaber and unsheathe the plasma blade. It purrs like a loth-cat in your hands. You can hear Din groaning and exclaiming in pain. 

“Din!” You call out into the dust but he doesn’t respond. A red circle of light appears in the dust at least ten for fifteen feet in the air. It looks like there is an…eye…moving behind the red illuminated lens. You squint your eyes but something dark and big is coming at you in the dust cloud. You hold up your lightsaber and block your body with it. A large metal claw comes barreling at you. You hold the saber up as hard as you can and the claw comes into contact with the scorching heat of the blade you’re holding. It retracts for just a moment. You use that second step towards it and bring the saber down hard onto the metal claw. The handle vibrates wildly in your hand when you slice through it. 

The cyborg-crab-spider-robot in front of you is visible now that the dust has settled. You see Din’s helmet peeking out of the chest cavity of the creature and take another step towards him, the lightsaber held over your head. You bring it down like an ax on to the cyborgs claw again, this time leaving a large melted gash in the metal. 

“Drop him!” You bring the saber now sideways, slicing across the gash you just made. You leave a large melted X in the metal of the claw. One of the six legs of the cyborg comes up high above your head and you look up at it for a moment. “Shit.”

It starts to come down on top of you but you dive to the right, away from the child. You roll over on to your back immediately and see him pulling the one leg from the ground and another leg, a new one comes up above your head and comes down fast. You scramble backwards quickly, the leg comes down hard and pierces the sand and whatever was below that between your knees. “You son of a bitch.” You look up at the cyborg's red eye who is pinned right on you. 

It’s claw is stuck now. He can’t pull it out. You point at the cyborg and stand while it struggles to free its stuck leg.

“” You swing the lightsaber at your side a couple of times in one hand, bring it to your chest, grip it tightly now in both hands, and with as much power as you can muster inside of you, bring it down sideways into the leg of the creature. You slice right through  metal and the remaining part of its leg comes free from the piece stuck into the ground. The creature lets out a screeching, mechanical scream and takes a stumbling step back. He never releases Din as he turns and scurries down the metal pipe you were all just walking down 

Grogu starts to babble and you look back at him. He’s pointing in the direction the cyborg just went. 

“What? You want me to follow it? I don’t think I can take that thing by myself.” You’re panting, watching the cyborg scurry further away.

You’re in shock. You cannot believe you just did that. Who are you? An actual warrior? The cyborg is out of sight now. You keep your plasma blade extended while you rest your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. 

Grogu starts to float after Din in his orb, babbling sadly. 

“Okay. We’ll go see what we’re up against at least before I go running for help, I guess,” you sigh and keep your lightsaber extended as you follow behind Grogu.

You’re careful where you step and laugh softly at your earlier thoughts about not having a light. You had one this whole time. This saber was brighter than the lights either of the boys had.

Grogu leads you down the dark metal pipe underneath the Civic Center of the city. Metallic scraping and electric ticking fills the air. You sheath your saber and Grogu stops, holding his arms up to you. 

Grogu and yourself carefully make your way into a large room like the one before but this one is filled with cages and chains and all sorts of other mechanical things you don’t know the name for. You and Grogu kneel behind a rock that’s shooting out of the ground. You’re higher up, on a ledge with maybe a two foot drop to the sand below in the room. You spot Din– he’s in one of the cages but this one is in the center of the room. The cyborg limps along before it rests behind a table. The eye in the center of the red illuminated circle disappears. A hatch opens on the top and a giant bug-like creature pokes its head out. It has multiple galls down the side and back of its body; sharp ones that look like they’d poke you real good if they got into you. 

The bug has long legs and lanky arms. It might be the scariest thing you’ve ever seen. You watch as it walks to Din and starts to disarm him, tossing his weapons on the ground carelessly. The darksaber gets thrown into the sand like it’s nothing. 

Grogu looks at you and you look back at him. 

“It’s too big for you.” You mouth to the child. He looks at the lightsaber that’s in your hand. You sigh quietly. Grogu is good with a saber, not as good as you but he can defend himself if needed. Not really great on the offense if you can remember correctly from one of your few sparring sessions with him at the temple. “I don’t know if I can even get it.” You mouth to him, pointing at the darksaber. 

Grogu closes his eyes and holds his little partially closed fist out and starts to concentrate. 

“Oh my Maker.” You can't believe it as you turn your head and watch as the darksaber starts to wiggle on the ground sightly. “No fucking way.” It’s all silently mouthed, so the bug doesn’t hear you.

The saber starts to wriggle a little more and then it’s being dragged across the ground. It stops at the bottom of the rock you two are sitting behind. “Up. Lift it up!” You mouth to the baby, motioning with your hands ‘up’, watching the darksaber flop on the ground. 

Grogu babbles at you in a whisper. You turn to him and plead quietly.

“I know it’s heavy but you need to lift it. Lift it up and I’ll grab it. We need to do it for Din.” You put a gentle hand on Grogu’s shoulder. “You can do it. You’re strong. Strong Grogu.” You encourage him and go back to peeking over the edge of the rock at the saber in the sand. “C’mon.” You whisper to Grogu. “So close.” It’s a strained whisper as you carefully and slowly start to reach for the weapon on the ground below you, it’s just out of your reach, flopping around in the sand. You’re fully exposed like this. If the bug were to turn around like it’s doing right now it would- shit. 

The bug sees you reaching for the saber on the ground and lets out a shriek of surprise. 

“Hi.” You wiggle your fingers at him as you let the rest of your body slide down the rock. The saber's in your hand already as you take a face and mouthful of sand. You somersault, unsheathing the blade as you land on your ass.

The bug is already coming at you. The darksaber pushes back against your hand like it’s being propelled in the opposite direction in which you're holding it.

“Knock it off!” You growl at it. Your own saber, the beskar lightsaber, the beautiful thing that Din gave you, gets tossed up behind your head. “Grogu, catch!” You yell over your shoulder as you grasp the darksaber in both hands now and drive it into the small lanky inside part of the thigh of the bug. It lets out another shriek, this time of pain and scrambles back towards its metal robotic spider. 

You spit out the rest of the sand that’s in your mouth and scramble on your hands as knees as you try to stand, following the bug quickly. 

“Oh no you don’t.” You bring the darksaber down hard where the bug just placed its hand. All of its fingers slide off of the limb they were attached to. “Yes!” You exclaim, looking at the blade of the darksaber. “C’mere,” you grunt, reaching with your free hand, grabbing the bug by its wounded, finger-less nub. You squeeze it as tightly as you can. The bug looks down at you, starting to chomp its angry and sharp teeth towards you.

You yank him down off the mechanical crab-spider-hybrid-robot-thing the bug was trying to crawl into. You bring the saber down on its arm as you’re still holding on to its wrist. The arm detaches in your hand and you throw it back at him angrily. The gross insect is attempting to crawl away on its back, looking up at you. “Yeah. I didn’t think I’d be able to do it either,” You hold the darksaber grip close to your side and reach out with your free hand now, holding onto the bug's shoulder. You lunge forward and drive the plasma blade into its chest. It shrieks again and lets out a small wheeze before going limp below you. 

Grogu is standing behind you, your pale pink plasma blade extends from the handle as you turn around to look at him. 

“Now you want to help? I’m already done.” You wipe the remaining sand off your face and out of your mouth, spitting as you walk towards Din. “Are you alright?” Kneeling beside Din in the cage.

“Yeah. Get me out please.” Din groans. 

You stand up again and unsheathe the darksaber and bring it down hard on the lock of the cage. It melts apart and Din falls to the sand with another groan. You attempt to help him up but he ends up just yanking you down on top of him when he tries to pull himself up. 

Your chest feels like it explodes when it hits his beskar chest plate. All the air you’ve ever known or planned on knowing is nowhere to be found.

Now, Din has to get up on his own and now help you up as you wheeze and writhe on the sand in pain. 

“Why?” You wheeze up at him as he brings you to your feet. “I just…saved your life…and you knocked the…wind out of me… hit me in the… forehead.” You rub the new red spot on your forehead from the chin of his helmet and continue to wheeze and try to find new air somewhere.

Din places one hand on your back as you lean forward and rest your hands on your knees, a similar position to the other room but this time your head hurts. “Not helping you…ever again.” You groan as the wind finds you now. 

“Fucking impressive.” Din says finally once you’re standing vertical again. “You figured out the saber then already.” Din half jokes, half can’t believe it himself. 

“Gotta be mean to it.”

It's blurry suddenly, and you feel weightless. You’re being flung through the air–fast. The air is stolen from you, not just lost this time…no.

Someone you cannot see took the air from you when you hit the rock you were flung against. “Oh fuck," It doesn't come out as audible sounds, just wheezes and gasps for air.

Din is no longer standing where he was, he has the darksaber that you dropped when you got flung into the air in his hand, and is running for his blaster pistol. 

How did you get all the way over here?

Grogo throws your lightsaber in your direction as you try to stand but everything inside of you is on fire, so you don't catch it. You think your back might be broken because you feel like jelly. The weapon lands at your feet as you struggle to kneel, unable to keep your balance even so low to the ground.

Din shouts something in distress, and you search harder for strength to stand somewhere inside of you, taking the lightsaber in your fist. 

“I’m fucking over this thing” You wheeze, arching your back. Every single vertebrae you have snaps and pops back into place. It actually feels amazing. Something in your right shoulder pops when you roll them and that doesn’t feel too good but you press on. It hurts to lift the saber over your head, Din is still shouting though. You meet Din in the middle of the room as he gets knocked over onto his side by one of the quick moving feet. “Din!” You shout, holding your hand for the darksaber. 

The bug, who somehow got back into the fucking robot’s back is to you but when you shout it turns and it’s red eye finds you and it screams at you, turning now with it’s pincers clanking at you loudly as it snaps them together repeatedly. 

“I don’t know how I’m not dead either.” You sigh and take two quick steps towards and underneath the robot. It steps back with you but not quickly enough, missing the foot part of it’s one legs and it stumbles on the missing digit. “Okay.” You grunt as you shove your lightsaber up into the chest cavity of the bug. “Din!” You scream it at him as he aims his blaster pistol. You hold your other hand out but he doesn’t hear you. “Fuck!” You scream again, pulling the blade from within the cavity of the bug, oil spills out onto your face and chest as you push your blade upwards again. “Give me the fucking…darksaber!” You scream to no one as you try and drive the blade further into the chest cavity. You have both of your hands holding onto the grip. 

The bug is stuck on your blade, you must be shorting something inside of the chest cavity but it’s still clicking its pincers at you and Din now. Din’s dodging giant metal legs that are trying to spear him. 

“I need the fucking darksaber!” You scream it louder than you thought was possible. The bug is pulling away from your blade now and you don’t know if you’ll be able to get another good plunge upwards if he pulls away from you now. 

Grogu is standing where he had been when you guys entered the fucking cave in the start, hasn’t moved and inch but now his little fist is being held out in front of him and you’re watching in disbelief as he uses the force to take the darksaber from Din’s hand. It falls to the ground immediately but he pushes it towards you, still with the force. Once it’s at your feet you try to reach for it but your arm won't reach while you still have your lightsaber inside of it. 

You look between the bug above you and Din and Grogu and everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion. You yank your blade free from the bugs chest cavity, reach for the darksaber. The pain in your shoulder now is blinding as you drive your pale pink blade into the chest cavity once more as the bug moves over you, going after Din. You unsheath the darksaber with your other hand and drive that one up into the belly of the robot. The darksaber blade slices through it like it’s fabric and you’re able to tear along the belly of the bug-robot-crab-spider. You pull your own blade from the robot and bring it back to the darksaber blade and plunge yours alongside it. The bug tries to run but the blade tear further into the metal, melting it. 

The sand on your knees is the last thing you remember.

“Gotta wake up.” Din’s rasp is ringing in your ears. You shoot up and gasp. “There she is. Told you she was alright.” Din speaks to someone. It’s Grogu. “You alright little one? You scared the child.” Din sounds scared himself. 

“I don’t know.” You look at him with wide eyes. “What happened? Am I dreaming?” You look around, half expecting to be back on the Crest. You’re still in the robot-bugs room. “Am I alright?” Looking back at Din with fear in your eyes. “What happened? Did I fall asleep?” 

“Slow down.” Din rasps gently. “You passed out. Your shoulder was partially dislocated. I set back for you though.” You look down at your shoulder which is still on fire now that you think about it. “Fought through the pain like a real warrior.” Din grabs your left hand and brings you to your feet. 

“That thing’s really dead now?” You try to point but your shoulder sends fire to your brain. 

“Dead. All thanks to you. I was able to put a blaster into its head once it went down.” Din pats your back gently. You’re shaking. Every muscle and bone and tendon inside of you feels like it’s going to slip out of your skin.

Din walks with his hand on your back like that for what feels like seventeen more hours until you come to a pool of water. 

“Are these the waters?” You ask, leaning against a rock beside you. Din nods and takes a couple steps towards the edge.

Something in your heart aches when he does. You were hoping you’d never find them and he’d be able to keep his helmet off for you forever. Selfish thoughts. It’s hard to watch so you look away and pretend to inspect your shoulder but you sense Din standing in front of you. 

“One more before I go in.” Din’s unmodulated voice whispers to you.

It makes your head snap up and his dark eyes and perfect everything are looking down at you. You touch his face, hold it in your hands even though your shoulder is falling apart. You try and memorize every single line and wrinkle and facial hair he has. The shape of his eyebrows and the cupid's bow hidden partially behind his perfect mustache. It makes your eyes water, thinking you won’t get to see it again.

“No tears.” Din leans in and kisses you softly. There isn’t force behind it. This isn’t a kiss of lust. This kiss told you how much Din cared for you. How gentle this man could be with you, and you alone.

It physically hurts you when he pulls away and puts his helmet back on. Din was right, this wasn’t time for tears. Din was doing what he came here for–what he wished for–so you’ll support him. Wish the best for him and hope he’s doing the right thing. 

Din starts to recite the creed as he takes his first steps into the water. You watch as he slowly starts to sink lower and lower. Suddenly, he’s gone with a splash. You sit up and look at the now rippling water. 

“Where’d he go?!” You look at Grogu who is still looking into the dark water. “Grogu! Where did he go!?” You shout at the child. Grogu just points where Din had just been. You run to the water's edge and look in. You can see nothing. You start to panic but you dive in anyway, you’re going to save Din. You break the surface and take a deep breath and look down into the water but it’s too dark to see anything and it’s deep. You’ll never be able to swim down to where the bottom could be. You look to Grogu. “Is that thing waterproof?” 

The top half of the floating orb drops down and you can hear it seal from over by the entryway into this room. It speeds towards you and drops into the water in front of you. There are two handles right along the top. You place your hand in one and tap the top of his orb twice with the other before slipping your hand into the hold. You take the biggest breath of air you can into your lungs before Grogu submerges you. It's still dark down here but Grogu’s light is still on and you can kind of see. It’s mostly just rocks and then more darkness. 

Your shoulder feels like it might actually be dislocating right now with the speed this thing is pulling you through the water. It’s hard to hold on. You’re still relatively close to the surface when you need to tap on the top of the orb. Grogu brings you to the surface where you gasp softly as your head breaches the water. You breathe for several seconds and put just your face in the water looking down below you. A light. Din’s light. It’s so far down. So, so far and still so far to the left of you guys. You tap the top of the orb after taking another big breath and steer the orb so you guys are right over Din. 

Air. You need air. You knock on the dome and Grogu takes you to the surface again.

“Open.” You spit water out of your mouth as Grogu partially opens his orb. “He’s right down there. So far down–” Your head goes under the water for a second but you reappear and spit water out of your mouth again. “You need to go down fast, Grogu faster than you can make this thing go. I’m gonna grab him and hold onto him and you at the same time and you need to bring me back up to the top faster than you brought me down there, okay? I don’t want to die, Grogu. Please.” You feel tears coming to your eyes. 

Gorgu closes his orb and revs its little engine. It makes you laugh as tears fall down your cheeks. You tread water for another minute before you inhale as deeply as you can and grab the hand holds. You knock twice. 

Darkness. Plunged into a wet noiseless void. It’s worse than the room at night. At least Din was there to keep you safe and now you have to save him!? This was so much worse. So much fucking worse than you could have ever imagined anything Din did out here in the galaxy when you were back on the Crest. You’re so close and already your body is telling you to expel this bad air. You let out a couple bubbles and the pressure in your chest releases a little. 

You’re at the bottom. You have your hands around Din’s waist but you can’t lift him. You try so hard, you calm your mind like a Jedi and try again but you’re not strong enough. You shout at him under the water but he doesn’t respond. More bubbles escape from your mouth as you plant your feet firmly on the wet sand below you and pull up from under Din’s arms as much as you can. He slides across the ground and you shriek. You get one arm under his chest and knock on the top of Grogu’s orb. He takes off as your hand finds the hold and you’re being rocketed upwards.

You can feel Din slipping and your hand is slipping out of the hold on Grogu's orb now too. Then it's gone. Grogu’s orb is gone.

You’re plummeting back down to the bottom and you connect with a muted thud. It’s not as soft and sandy as you remember.

You look down and instead of white gray sand it’s–scales? You look around as you empty the last of the bad air out of your lungs. You look directly into one giant yellow eye. It’s so close you can see your reflection in it. The eye itself is bigger than you are. You have no idea what you’re seeing. Horns?

It’s a hallucination. Something your brain came up with to try and comfort you while you die, surely this isn’t real. The eye blinks at you twice.

Din lays beside you, still unmoving as your body instinctively takes a breath in. Water fills your lungs and everything is suddenly warm and quiet.

Okay-- SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER. Not really.

This was my little take on what happened in the mines. I had so much fun writing out reader being a fucking BADASS and saving Din's life with that weird robot bug. I also don't know how drowning works- so... lmk if you do.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux @harriedandharassed @realmamabear79 @blahkateisdone @picketniffler @cheekychaos28 @lilac-boo @pedrostories @wandamaximoff4578 @probablyreadinsmut @katw474 @cowboy-like-m3

[mandoloriancookie]

Not the kind of partner I’m used to..

Bucky is referred to a paired therapy program..

Warnings: None, little bit of angst…Kind of?

The chair was too small.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, arms crossed over his chest, shoulders hunched like a caged animal. The walls of Dr. Raynor’s office were the same off-white shade of every other government-sanctioned therapy clinic he’d been forced to visit, and the fluorescent lights hummed in a way that made his teeth itch. He hated it here. He hated therapy. And, most of all, he hated whatever new hoop Raynor was making him jump through this time.

"This is stupid," he grumbled, voice low and flat. "I don't need a - what do you even call this? A therapy buddy? A trauma pen-pal?"

Raynor gave him that look. The one that said she was just barely tolerating him. "It’s a paired therapy program."

Bucky rolled his eyes.

"You agreed to try," she reminded him, flipping through her clipboard. "The point is to help people with… let's say, complicated pasts, to build social connections. Get used to interacting. Being normal."

"Great. So you’re admitting this is a group project."

"Not a group," Raynor corrected, sitting back in her chair. "Just the two of you. One-on-one. You can do that, right? Make one friend?"

Bucky sighed through his nose, glaring at the ceiling like it had personally wronged him.

"Well, lucky for you, she’s not thrilled about this either," Raynor continued, glancing at the door as voices echoed from outside the office. "I warned her to be civil, but fair warning - she's not exactly a social butterfly."

Bucky’s interest piqued at that. He listened, keen ears picking up the muffled sound of a woman’s voice.

"Look, Doc, I’m just saying - do I actually have to?" The voice huffed. "I don’t need a therapy partner. I’m doing just fine avoiding people all on my own."

Bucky smirked.

"Y/N, you promised," the other doctor’s voice responded, a familiar level of exhausted patience in her tone.

A pause. A groan. The sound of a doorknob turning.

Then she stepped in.

Y/N had the kind of posture that screamed reluctant participation. She entered the room like it physically pained her to do so, crossing her arms and scanning the space with an expression that read: ‘this was not my idea, and I hate it here.’ When her eyes landed on Bucky, she froze for a fraction of a second - just long enough for him to notice. He was used to that reaction. The pause. The flicker of recognition. Like she was debating whether to acknowledge who he was or pretend he was just some guy.

Bucky arched a brow. "You must be thrilled about this."

She gave him a flat look. "Over the moon."

Raynor clapped her hands together, the universal therapist signal for ‘let’s begin.’ "Great! Now that you’ve met, let’s set some ground rules. The goal here is casual interaction, low-pressure conversations. Just get to know each other."

Y/N’s mouth twitched like she had about ten sarcastic things she wanted to say, but she bit them back.

"I’ll leave you to it," Raynor announced, already making for the door. "Try to keep the glaring to a minimum."

Then she was gone.

The silence stretched. Bucky stared at Y/N. Y/N stared at Bucky. The tension between them was less hostility and more… mutual disinterest. Like two kids forced to work on a school project together, neither wanting to be the first to break the silence.

Bucky sighed. "Guess we should start with the basics. Name’s Bucky."

"Y/N," she responded, shifting her weight. "But I already know who you are."

He tilted his head, not really surprised. "Yeah?"

She gave him a look like he was an idiot. "Because you’re Bucky Barnes. The white wolf. The Winter Soldier. Avenger. Internationally recognized brooding champion."

Bucky blinked, caught off guard. "Brooding champion?"

She shrugged. "You do have a very… ‘resting murder face’ thing going on."

Bucky stared at her for a beat, then snorted. "That’s a new one."

Y/N shifted again, looking slightly less miserable than before. "So, uh… what exactly are we supposed to do? Just talk about our feelings until we magically become better people?"

Bucky smirked. "Pretty sure that’s the idea."

"Gross."

"Agreed."

A beat. Then-

"Wanna get out of here?" Y/N blurted out.

Bucky blinked. "What?"

"Not, like, run away forever," she clarified. "Just… sneak out. Get a coffee or something. We can pretend to do the therapy thing and check it off the list."

Bucky considered this. On one hand, Raynor would definitely give him hell for it. On the other… he really didn’t want to sit in this room for an hour talking about his feelings.

He stood, stretching. "Alright, partner. Lead the way."

Y/N looked surprised for a split second before masking it with an easy smirk. "Try to keep up, Grandpa. We have an hour."

They stepped into the hallway, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. It reminded him of old missions—sneaking around, trying to keep a low profile. Only this time, there were no explosions or rifles. Just the muted sounds of people trying to put their lives back together. The smell of over-brewed coffee and sadness.

"This way," Y/N whispered, jerking her head towards the stairs. "The café's less crowded." They descended the stairs, Y/N moving with the kind of ease that came from spending too much time in places like these. Bucky followed, watching the way she moved—like she was trying to be invisible, but couldn’t quite pull it off. She had a presence about her. Something that made people look, even when she didn’t want them to.

When they reached the café, it was indeed quieter than he’d expected. A few patients nursed their drinks, staring into the abyss of their pasts. The barista looked up, giving them a nod that suggested he’d seen this sort of thing before. Bucky couldn’t blame them—therapy was a weird gig.

They claimed a table in the corner, far from prying eyes and eager ears. Y/N slid into a chair, her eyes scanning the room with the kind of wariness he understood all too well. She was checking for threats, even though the biggest threat here was probably someone asking how their week had been.

"So," she said, breaking the silence. "What’s your damage?" Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" "Your tragic backstory," she elaborated, rolling her eyes. "You know, the reason you’re stuck in that soul-sucking building." He leaned back, arms crossing over his broad chest.

"You first."

Y/N’s smirk grew. "Okay, fine. I was in the military. Mission went tits up, ended up with a few too many pieces missing. Now I’ve got metal where there should be meat and therapy where there should be… well, anything else."

Bucky nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. He liked her. "Sounds like a blast," he said, voice dry.

Y/N chuckled, a low, dark sound. "It was. Literally."

The conversation flowed from there, surprisingly easily. They talked about their military backgrounds - Bucky’s HYDRA days, his time as a SHIELD agent. It was like two old soldiers swapping war stories, except the enemy was less about bullets and more about inner demons. She had a sharp wit, he noticed, and a way of cutting through bullshit that was refreshing. No pep talks, no pity. Just raw, honest words that stung a little.

As they talked, Y/N’s defenses slowly started to lower. She spoke about her past missions with a passion that was palpable, her eyes lighting up with a fierce intensity that made him want to lean in closer. And as she spoke, he realized that she wasn’t just some girl with a tragic past - she was a fighter. A survivor. And she’d earned every single one of those metallic scars.

Bucky found himself telling her more than he’d ever told anyone else. Stories of Steve, of the Avengers, of the endless nights spent trying to drown out the echoes of his past with a bottle of whiskey. The words poured out of him like they’d been damned up for too long, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t feel the need to censor himself.

Y/N listened, really listened, without judgment or the need to fix him. It was a strange feeling, one that made him feel both exposed and oddly at ease. They talked about their fears, their regrets, their hopes for the future - things that Bucky hadn’t allowed himself to think about in a long time.

The bell over the door chimed, and they both looked up, startled by the sudden intrusion of reality. The café was emptying out, the sun setting outside the window in a wash of orange and pink. They’d talked for hours. And they’d be in deep shit. Oh well.

Y/N’s eyes searched his, something unspoken passing between them. "Thank you," she murmured, voice low. "For not making me feel like a freak." Bucky’s smirk grew into a small smile. "You’re not a freak," he said softly. "You’re a survivor."

They stood, gathering their things. As they made their way back to the clinic, Bucky realized that maybe, just maybe, this therapy buddy thing wasn’t going to be so bad after all. It wasn’t fixing his life - not by a long shot. But it was a start.

They re-entered the building, the sterile air hitting them like a slap in the face after the brief taste of freedom. Y/N’s shoulders squared up again, the wall sliding back into place.

"You know, Bucky," she said as they approached the elevator. "I didn’t hate that." He chuckled. "Me neither, kid." The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the all-too-familiar corridor. Y/N stepped in, punching the button for their floor with a little too much force.

"So, what now?" Bucky asked, leaning against the railing. "We just go back to her office and pretend we talked about our feelings?" Y/N rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "If that’s what it takes to keep them off our asses." The elevator lurched to a stop, and they stepped out into the hallway. As they approached the room they were supposed to be in, they could hear the muffled sounds of a conversation - Raynor’s voice, and another therapist, discussing their patients.

"Looks like we’ve got company," Bucky murmured, glancing at the clock. They were cutting it close. Y/N nodded. "Let’s make it look good." They both took a deep breath and stepped into the room, trying to look like they hadn’t just blown off their session.

Raynor looked up from her notes, raising an eyebrow. "You two look… enlightened." Bucky and Y/N shared a look, the unspoken challenge passing between them.

"We had a breakthrough," Y/N said, deadpan. "A real emotional rollercoaster." Raynor’s gaze flicked between them, trying to gauge their sincerity. "Well," she said, after a beat. "I’m happy to hear that. Why don’t you sit down and tell me all about it?" Her voice was skeptical.

They sat, and Bucky launched into a half-true, half-exaggerated story about their heart-to-heart. Y/N filled in the blanks with sighs and eye-rolls, and somehow, it was convincing. They had a rhythm, a way of finishing each other's sentences that made it seem like they'd been friends for years instead of minutes.

"So, you've discovered the importance of sharing your feelings," Raynor said, scribbling on her clipboard.

"It's life-changing," Bucky deadpanned, and Y/N snorted. This might not be so bad…

——————————————————————————————————

Here you go, My Lovelies! I just love the thought of someone matching Bucky’s energy in total contrast to the usual grumpy/sunshine trope 🫶

[mandoloriancookie]

Touch: Part 7

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary: Your future with Din seems bleak in the darkness of the ship, that is...until it's not so dark anymore.

Warnings: Consume at your own risk. No tags due to chapter spoilers. Non-spoiler disclaimer- Scenes from the Mandalorian season 3. The story arc diverts from canon, but it does follow the series pretty closely for a couple chapters.

wc: ~13k

a/n- sorry for another no tag/warning chapter. if you need to see a list of the potential things in here, refer back to the series masterlist to see what tags could be upsetting to you.

a/n pt 2: I try so hard to make sure that this is formatted correctly, and makes sense and flows well. I work on the dialogue a little bit-- and it's gonna have mistakes and maybe a spelling error. UNBETA'ED PROOFREAD BY TIRED EYES.

Sleep doesn't come to you easily that night. The only thing you can feel is the shattering of your heart- and it's turning into real, physical pain. It's like something alive and venomous crawled inside your stomach, and is twisting, stinging— biting you, as it moves all around, making you feel sick.

You wonder what Mando is doing now while you lay here all alone in the silence of your room— he probably is sitting in the cockpit, driving you right back to Cantonica. That's probably exactly what he did when he got up and left without a word! Turned the ship around so he could drop you off at Canto Bight Casino.

You could be a tender again, maybe a waitress too. Maybe your room in that woman's house was still available. You still had some credits saved up from before.

You'd be okay.

Everything was going to be just fine now that you didn't have to worry about Mando coming to ask to touch and watch, or put things inside you that weren't him- even though you've never stopped thinking about him, and those nights you shared together. They run through your mind at least once a day— sometimes more.

Mando won't bother you in the night to call you nice, sweet things, and to make your heart feel bigger and also lighter at the same time, somehow. Mando won't come to touch you and watch you and make between your legs feel things. too. Good things. Amazing things. 

Eventually, after every single tear left inside of you has been cried out, you drift off to sleep.

The heat that wakes you up isn't confined to just your upper arm like it had been the night you came home from the temple. It encapsulates you, it overtakes everything that you are, and you love it because it's familiar.

You hum, ignoring all the sadness and anger that had been inside of you just hours ago before your teary eyes closed for the last time that night.

Strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close. A calm, pacifying voice whispers, "You think I do not care for my little one?"

"You're mad at me," you murmur, pushing your body back against his as tightly as you can, savoring in all of this. "Gonna leave me," you almost whimper, stealing all of the warmth you can from him, even though it's almost too much.

Hands as hot as the sun roam across the supple, soft curves of your body through your clothing. It's hard to think about anything other than the way he feels pressed against you like this, the way that his fingers tease you, tugging the hem of your shirt just over the of soft, gentle curve of your stomach before his hands move to your thighs, or up over your chest to your neck.

He is all over you, and you feel drunk because of—Mando!

"Get out—" you huff, pushing his exploring hands off your eager and excited body. "-of my—"You've betrayed yourself at the hands of a trickster! A slithering sneak who slips into your bed under the veil of the void. "-bed!"

It's probably he fact that you're twisting and turning, pushing against him, and trying to get him out of your bed that brings an urgency to his explanations. Din grips both of your wrists in his hands, his fingers closing around them completely.

"Listen to me, please, pretty girl in her white dress," His soft whisper in your ear melt your spine into liquid that pools somewhere in the core of you. The words, and the way he says them so softly, smooth like the richest velvet you've ever felt, quell the rage inside of you. “You need to understand that I have to wear my helmet,but I would show you if it would tell you how much I care."

There is no inflection, or teasing in his voice. The Mandalorian is serious, and it makes your heart almost still completely in your chest.

“Mando—"

“If you call me Mando again," his voice growls in your ear, but he sounds almost hurt or offended, like he can't believe you're still calling him that. "Offers revoked."

Shit.

There isn't enough time for you to say anything else before he continues.

"I left earlier because I was upset with you…for being upset with me," he starts, his lips pressed to your ear tightly so he makes sure you can hear him. "I was selfish, I should have stayed here with you," he sighs, his breath plumes against the side of your face, and you inhale to take in the sweet scent of him, and it makes your head spin.

This isn't how you wanted this to happen! Din was supposed to show you his face because he wanted to, not because you guilt him into doing it!

The last two years you thought of all the ways you could get him to show you his face and now, you only want one way. For him to want to show you. Not because you made him feel badly for not showing you.

Maker!

“Din, you don’t have to show me— this isn't what I want.” There is hesitation in your voice because you're reluctant to say it, but it's the truth

Din stiffens behind you, his grip on your wrist goes slack, but his mouth stays pressed to your ear.

Everything in the ship is quiet besides him breathing quietly.

“You’re right, though. I should have shown you before I left, like I showed Grogu. I hoped the talk we had the night before was enough. You said you’d do it for free, and I thought…” Din trails off.

You hate when he does that. You never need to. All your thoughts are front and center at all times ready to be said fully at any given moment. And he’s always searching inside that head for something to say.

“I hoped the meaning behind me making Luke and Ahsoka let you stay was worth more than words," he breathes against the shell of your ear.

If you’re really thinking back on it right now in this bed…the man did wait two years for you. Beskar-man got you a pretty focus crystal, said he’d get you a lightsaber to put it in. Took you into his clan earlier…he’s never done that before.

He said he came to visit, and was denied entry.

Din only mirrored your reaction getting off the return ship to the hangar to see him. 

Shit.

"Why did you hope it would be enough?" It comes out a whisper, and croaked because of how dry your mouth is.

It feels like the ship hit turbulence, but really, it's just your body trembling— vibrating in anticipation.

What could he mean?

Din's breath grows shaky, like he might be just as scared as you. He starts to say something, but is so hesitant now, like maybe this was too scary, even for Din. 

There isn't a time that you can remember him being scared- not that you've seen at least.

"What if you don't like it— what if you don't like me?" He finally says, and the words stab you right in the heart. "Would you still… do all of this for free?"

Din releases your wrists from his grasp; you hadn't even realized he was still holding on to you because you had stopped fighting him the minute he asked. He places his hands on top of your shaking ones, and slips his fingers in the spots between yours.

Deep down you are kind of scared because…what if you don’t like it? 

What if he was warning you that first night about you doodles that he didn’t look the way that you thought? 

What if he puts that helmet on and never takes it off because what’s under it isn’t nice to look at?

What if the man who has been touching you, and being so good to you; who you think you could potentially be in love with…isn’t what you want to look at?

What do you do then?

Din can put that helmet back on all he wants, but you’ll know.

You’ll know, and you’ll never be able to un-know what his face looks like. 

Maker. Maker. Maker.You are a special star- you are. A sick star!

This is unfair. Absolute shit timing, and situation.

Putting you in this position to know? How dare Din, and Maker himself, do this to you!?

Even though this is all you want!

Just not like this!

Another part of you thinks that you couldn’t ever not care for the man who is under that helmet. Despite his looks, right? You’re not shallow, not really. As you think back on it right now, he’s done everything for you, and is willing to do the most everythingright now. By showing you his face.

How do the clans of Mand'alor work? What is their religion? Who are the people of that planet that had been destroyed so long ago?

Bathe in the living waters. What’s livingin the waters? Why does he have to wash himself in them?

You’re unsure. If it was explained in the cave— you blacked out for a minute looking at the nice sand. It felt like you had sand in your ears for most of the conversation.

It's no wonder you don’t know shit about fuck-all right now.

You stare at the wall in front of you, looking at all the rivets and welds that keep this giant, metal monstrosity together while it flies through the sky—

Hold on just one Maker-loving second! You can see things!?

There are all different shades of blue and purple and white filling the room. You tilt your head up and look out the windows, and all those colors are streaking past so quickly, it's all a blur. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You realize how fast you're moving when you look at it.

If you turned around right now…you'd be able to see Din. His voice has been non-modulated this whole time, his warm cheek and scratchy facial hair has been present against the side of your head since you woke up.

You shut your eyes so tight it almost hurts,

You flip around in Din’s arms, and pepper kisses across his entire face because you can. He's right here in your bed, and you can touch him, feel him, kiss him as much as you want- but you won't look.

You start speaking quickly, urgently— because you feel like such an ass, such a dumb idiot for because you were selfish. Everything he did for you, starting from the notebook, the credits to go to the market, the opportunity given to only you to train with the Jedi? How many others get that? The focus crystal?

He also could have completely kept you in the dark about all of this. Made you stay on the ship while the Armor lady Mandalorian reamed his ass out for taking off that stupid helmet.

Din didn't do that though, he gave you an opportunity to hear the truth and now, he's offering to show you his face.

“Din, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so ungrateful. I care for you so much- with the helmet. It’s enough. You’re enough with the helmet.” You keep your eyes shut tight–and you're glad you do, because you could cry again. You feel so foolish for not appreciating him more."

“Open your eyes, little one in the white dress. Please, before it’s too late and I have to put it back on again for good.” Din moves his face closer to you, the tip of his nose touching yours, his warm breath on your lips.

Din kisses you lightly, his lips are so soft, and so warm just like the rest of him. His hand gently presses into the small of your back.

“Is it going to change everything?” You mumble against his lips, worried.

You're worried everything’s going to be different. What does all this mean? You'll get to see his face once, and then never again? 

Do you get beskar���gam like Grogu did? Do you have to learn Mando’a? Because it’s hard! You hear Din speak it sometimes, and it sounds so hard to learn!

You don’t know anything, and you can’t find the strength in your lungs to make the words come out. What is going on? This is a dream. Has to be.

“I don’t want it to change. I want you to rest your head down at night knowing I care,” Din nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours gently. "Rest your head down on me at night— every night."

You exhale loudly—

"Were you holding your breath?" Din chuckles, and steals another quick kiss before you can say anything, or even react to what he said, “This way you know, you can stop wondering. You’d have something to think about besides the helmet.” Din’s voice is so soothing.

If your heart wasn’t about to speed out of your chest and hide somewhere else in the ship his voice could lull you to sleep.

“I willhave to leave again, like before, but I’ll ask you to come when it’s not too dangerous. I won’t keep you trapped here like before.” Din’s offering all you want. To be with him sometimes off the ship. To come with him.

“You want me to look?” You ask again.

This is really going to happen this is not a dream.

Din’s one-million-degree body lets you know that you're not still asleep. This is all really happening, and you’re going to see him for the first and probably last time. That’s okay with you.

Honestly, he could tell you he’s too nervous— and you’d say that you were too and you could both just go to sleep. Your heart, dear Maker, your heart is beating and pounding so fast, there is no way he cannot feel it pressed up against you like this. 

“Yes. Please look. I want you to see.” Din speaks so softly and so calmly and he doesn’t sound nervous or uncomfortable anymore. Just amazed to be here sharing this little bed with you. 

The calm quietness of the ship is ruined by screaming alarms. Loud ones. Bright, flashing lights fill the ship.

Everything inside of you feels like I could jump right out and lay beside you on the bed.

As fast as the alarms went off, you and Din start scrambling, limbs flailing. Your elbow connects with something hard, and then Din groans loudly.

"Did I!?" You exclaim, already knowing what you've done.

You clamor out of the bed Din is already standing beside, and has his hands covering his nose and most of face.

But you can see his eyes, and they’re dark and perfect—and he’s bleeding.

Fuck.

Everything is so loud, it feels impossible even form one single helpful thought with the alarms going off, you just stand there looking dumbstruck.

Din runs out of the room with blood dripping from his hands and elbows leaving little droplets on the ground.  You run into the main hull and look for some sort of first aid kit to help the man whose nose you just probably broke, but you see nothing.

The hallway back to your room is flashing red and white over and over and you think you’re going to pass out. It’s so fucking loud.

There is blood dripping all down the hall to where Din took off, probably the cockpit.

The kid is wailingfrom his room and now you’re on the verge of tears too. Grogu can wait. You need to clean up this blood first. You forget where everything is on the ship, your memory embarrasses you while you try to remember how to clean something up. You’re not thinking clearly. It’s so loud and so overwhelming. Oh, Maker. 

The alarms and the lights stop, and finally there is some semblance of calm.

It's so much easier to think clearly when the ship isn't screaming at you. Cleaning supplies are in the dining area, under the sink.

The drops of blood are focused mainly in the sleeping quarters. You can think again. You start to grab everything you need and start the job of cleaning the mess.

The whole ship rumbles enough rock you from side to side gently, and you hear the hydraulics of an opening door below you. There must be a carrier down there, but you're not completely sure.

There wasn't much Din wasn't willing to show you, but he said one door in this new ship was off limits to Grogu and you- while you were still angry with him- so you didn't even question him.

Where is Din going though? Why didn’t he come say goodbye?

Cleaning the little droplets of blood that start in the bedroom next to your bed, you work you way out into the hallway.

While you're cleaning, your mind races with what happened in the bedroom just a couple minutes ago. With everything that happened between him asking you to look, and right now, it feels like a lifetime has passed.

Din Djarin- the mystery man with a helmet and a secret face. A secret life that you know nothing about, as much as you wished you knew, Din doesn't talk about his life.

There hadn't been much for you to share about your life, either. So, the both of you had just fallen into a routine of being comfortable in each other's presence, touching and talking about easy things.

Grogu has stopped crying, but you’ll still go check on him in a minute. It’s just too much with the blood and the kid and the bleeding man. 

As you stand up Din rounds the corner in his full beskar minus his gloves—

With a woman…who is also in beskar. Her armor is nowhere near as loose fitting as Din’s, and doesn’t leave anythingto the imagination. She is beautiful with shoulder length red hair, and perfect lips that fit her face so well. She's a couple inches taller than you, but most of the people in beskar you've met are larger than you in some way.

“This is Bo-Katan.” Din's rasp cuts through the awkward silence that fills the ship. “I need to go with her for a while, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Then we will go to Nevarro. I’ve already turned the autopilot on so we’ll be closer when I get back. I won’t be long.”

Your eyes flick between Din and this woman, Bo-Katan. “Okay…” You force an uncomfortable, and awkward smile. Suddenly, you feel very exposed in only your nightgown. “Have…fun…okay.” You turn and walk into Grogu’s room and try to shut the door.

There isn’t enough space for you, and you have to stand on his little tiny bed to shut it. Now you’re standing on your tip toes, feet angled and shifting so they don’t step on the baby - who is now staring up at you, confused as to why you're in here, and possibly how. You don’t know how you got in here, either.

You’re pretty sure this is a broom closet that Din put a little tiny bed in.

Oh Maker.

Din and a woman? Out in the galaxy together? Alone? Doing what exactly? He didn’t explain.

You scoop the child into your arms and open the door, peering out into the hallway.

It's empty, so you take this opportunity to scurry down the hall towards the room you and Din share.

Bo-Katan comes out of one of the weapons rooms as you try and sneak by, and slam right into her.

Grogu makes an annoyed, sleepy warble and curls up into your arms.

“I’m so sorry," you apologize and hold your hand out and it lands right on her left tit. You stare at your hand on her breast for several seconds before removing it. “I’m so sorry about that, too.” You look at her. Your lips pressed tightly together. “I’m so sorry. I just woke up.” You lie and purse your lips again and point past her to the room one door past the weapons room. “That’s my room," talking for no reason is what you're doing.

You also just touched her boob.

Which is exactly what Din was probably running off to do with her in the night!!

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry, I’m the one who crashed your slumber party.” She winks at you. She’s so pretty. Her pretty red hair and her perfectly shaped lips. You’ll have to ask Din later if she’s a good kisser or not.

Humph.

You hate Bo-Katan— Not really. She was wonderful– but why did she wink at you?

Why is Miss Pretty red hair and perfect lips here in the night winking at you? Because she can come in whenever in the night and steal Din right from under you?

Because she sure did. Stole him right out of your bed and made you possibly break his nose. She made you miss your opportunity to see the lower half of his face. 

“Where’s your helmet?”You blurt the question out suspiciously before you can even stop yourself from thinking about asking her. You just noticed that she had perfect hair and pretty lips and now, you’re just saying the first thing that comes to your head apparently. It just came out all fast and dumb, you couldn’t even control it. “I’m so sorry, again. That was so rude.” You’re so embarrassed. Could just crawl right into any one of these nameless holes in this ship and die kind of embarrassed. You’re here blurting out questions to the beautiful Bo-Katan in your nightgown that you realize now has some blood on it. Shit. 

“No, it’s okay! Don’t be sorry.” She shakes her head and puts a gloved hand on your shoulder. You look down at it and she removes it slowly but you wish she hadn’t. She was so gentle and small and felt nice. “I’m not from the same clan as Mando. We just bear different religions and ideas. I don’t have to sport mine all the time.” Bo-Katan winks at you again! Why is she winking at you!? “Our ideals aren’t as severe and old-fashioned as his.” 

Din himself comes from around the corner as she says this as you flick your head to him. He looks between the two of you and Grogu who has passed out again in your arms. 

“I’m sleeping with him tonight.” You say for no reason. Din nods and puts his second glove on. “I’ll see you…soon?” Din nods again and presses his forehead to yours, one hand on the back of your neck. He holds you there.

See this Bo? Hmm? Do ya? 

Din lets you go and rambles off the list. 

“Be safe. Don’t let anyone on. Don’t get off. I’ll be back tonight. Soon. Hopefully.” Din nods and then looks down at Bo-Katan. She is still looking at you, smiling softly. 

“I’ll make sure he gets back to you. Don’t fret.” You wait for her to wink again but she doesn’t this time. She puts another gentle hand on your shoulder; as if she’s trying to comfort you? Maybe she feels bad for you? Because she's about to go touch him like you do!? What is happening? Din gave youforehead touches, which you assume is a sign of affection from him to you when he can’t take his helmet off. You like it. 

Bo-Katan…and her helmet-less head. Who is this woman? How does Din know her? She’s an associateof his. You wonder how oftenand how wellthey’ve been associated.She was nice to you though. And gave you a gentle touch. 

Are you…touch starved?

The thought starts racing through your head as they walk down the hallway.

Why did her touch feel so good? So comforting. And that’s dumb because Din waited two years– Did Din wait for two years? Oh, my Maker. Was this a woman who he had been gallivanting around the stars with while his paid babysitter and touch womanwas indisposed? 

No. 

That didn’t happen. Nope. Not even a little bit. is just someone Din knows. Din can know people. You know people. You know Luke and Ahsoka. And Grogu. And some kids from the temple. And that guy from the sweets shop in the Outdoors Market or whatever it was called. Hmph. You had friends too. Din’s not the only one with friends. Hmph. 

You look around the room that’s still being streaked in all the pretty colors and you take all the blankets and lay them out on the floor. You lay Grogu down next to you and his eyes open. He makes a fascinated, intrigued warbling sound. 

“I know. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You whisper down to him.

He holds your index finger in his three little claws while you watch the stars pass by.

“Well...you’ve seen Din’s eyes, right?” You lift your head to look at Grogu and he coos softly. “Yeah, so those are the most beautiful, and then this is a close second.” You explain quietly.

The baby makes a sound like he could be agreeing with you.

“I know. They are so dark. And his forehead, Grogu.  And his hair. It was so curly and messy and dark.” You start listing off all the things you saw on Din’s face to Grogu who listens happily.

Grogu makes a shocked warble sound that stops you from your rambling list of things you saw.

"He does have a beard. I saw it tonight!" You exclaim. "When was the last time you saw his face? So long ago, it was. I saw him tonight, little green child," you taunt him.

Grogu blinks up at you silently.

"I don't mean to rub it in, I'm sorry," you cradle him to your side and press a kiss to the top of his head. "I just really can't believe it."

You look out the window and sigh. “Do you know Bo-Katan?” You ask the baby who can’t really answer you. He warbles softly. “Is she a good lady? Is she nice and trustworthy? She’ll keep him safe for us?” You look at Grogu again, but he’s asleep next to you. Fell asleep listening to your voice. 

You love Grogu. A real love. Dying for this child would be something you’d do easily. If you knew it would protect him. Grogu snuggles into you as you tuck him into the blankets and snuggle in yourself. It’s hard on the floor. It reminds you of the Crest and your mat. It makes you think of the first time Din ever touched you in the dark.

Sleep comes to you with all the blues and purples streaking overhead. 

“Little one..." Din's calm and quiet voice whispers in your ear as you feel him climb into the makeshift bed on the floor. “It’s me.” He sinks beside you and rests his head on your chest. “Touch my hair.” More quiet, non-modulated whispering.

You bring one hand sleepily to his messy, dark curls and twirl your fingers in it mindlessly. Din sighs, and relaxes against you. The child is still on the other side of you asleep. You’ve got your other arm wrapped around him.

“Is your nose okay?” You whisper to Din through a yawn. “Did I break it?” You try to sound apologetic in your sleepiness because you do feel bad. You never want to hurt Din.

Unless he’s trying to spar or fight you.

He had been being so sweet and trying to show you his face, and you hit him all because of Bo-Katan. 

“It’s fine.” Din murmurs from your chest, like he could be falling asleep. “Not broken.” A sigh and he’s got one hand on your stomach, touching your belly button under the blankets, tracing around it slowly. “W-Want to see?” You feel his body shake softly like he’s laughing.

The weight of his head lifts from your chest. You tilt your head and Din is looking up at you. He’s got one black eye and there’s blood still crusted under one nostril. You laugh at him and let your head fall back to the pillows. 

“Are you sure it’s not broken?” You smirk, your hands still in his hair. “You’re so handsome, even with the black eye and the blood.”

Din chuckles and pulls you into him by your waist, “C’mere.”

You make him rest his head back on your chest and continue to spin his hair in your fingers. You think of his face and how you just saw it and it felt so much more natural and exactly how you had wanted him to show you. Casual. Din cares. You can feel it in your heart now. “Perfect and beautiful.” You whisper into the blue-tinted darkness. “You are.” You wait for a response but Din’s already asleep on your chest. 

The next morning, Din pulls the hood over your head and covers Grogu with your robes. The child is sitting comfortably in his little bag that’s slung over your shoulder. You watch Din’s helmet as he focuses. 

“Am I going to hear any news that might upset me?” You smirk up at him as he clasps the robe closed around your neck with a small metal pin. His helmet snaps up and you can feel his eyes on you. His perfect dark eyes. 

“Stop that.” Din presses his forehead to yours. “No. Maybe. I don’t know?” He sighs, “You can’t get angry with me anymore. It’s the rules.” Then he shrugs his shoulders like he has no say in the matter. 

“You make the rules!” You exclaim.

Din nods down at you as he pulls away. “So follow them. Listen to me. Stay close.” Din rattles off more instructions as you walk down the ramp together.

This planet is nice. It’s got a nice town center and Din leads you down a stone pathway.

“Don’t stray, please.” His gloved hand reaches out for you as you take a couple of steps forward.

It’s been such a long time since you’ve been in a place with so many things, places and people to look at, it's hard to not be overwhelmed and want to explore. The city looks like it's in the process of being rebuilt, buildings are in the process of rising higher into the sky

“This is Nevarro?” You ask, looking up at Din as he looks around in the crowds.

He nods and keeps his head swiveling back and forth, observing. "It used to be a hub for pirates and the Bounty Hunter Guild, but the High Magistrate is trying to change that now." He leads you to a droid statue that’s standing tall in the center of town. "Make it nicer for the citizens that live here."

"That's very nice of the High Magistrate," you continue to watch the people walking by, and the buildings and shops that line the street.

“He’s what we came here for.” Din points at the nonoperational droid now in front of you. 

“What’d you need him for?” You raise an eyebrow and shield your eyes from the sun as you look up at the droid Din pointed to. “He’s a statue.” You point that part out to him.

Din tilts his head down to you. It’s almost like you can sense that his patience with you is worn thin already. You smile regardless, because you've seen his face, and he wouldn't show his face to just anyone. It brings you a sense of pride to know that he trusts you, cares for you enough to have let you see him like that.

and bring your hand back to your side. It slips into your robe and you rub your fingers along Grogu’s ears. He gives you a satisfied sound of enjoyment as you do. 

“Where are we going now?” You ask Din excitedly as he leads you into the crowd. His strong hand finds your upper arm and he holds you close to him. “Are we going somewhere nice? Ooh! Somewhere we can get food!?” You exclaim, seeing a bakery. “Din. Din. Din. Din.” You point to the tarts and sweets in the window excitedly.

Din pushes you past the bakery, obviously in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Okay… But I want to go there before we leave.” You look back at it over your shoulder. It’s been so long since you’ve had anything that wasn’t a bowl of broth or rations. 

“Fine. We have to be somewhere now though.” Din continues to lead you through the crowd. You catch people's eyes and smile at them politely. It’s nice to be out in the world again. Not on a ship caring for a child or in a Jedi temple getting whacked with sticks. It feels good to be integrated with the galaxy again. Not just looking at it through windows. 

“Mando!” A voice calls out from behind you. You and Din both spin around. “I heard you were back, but I didn’t believe it.” The man in gold and red robes booms as he walks towards you. 

“Magistrate Karga.” Din rasps from behind the modulator. Your eyes look up to Din as he talks. You’re unsure if he likes this person yet.

“That’s High Magistrate to you.” The man laughs and slaps Din on the shoulder. 

“My aliit.” Din speaks a word of Mando’a that you’re not familiar with as he gestures to you. You’ll ask later. Grogu peeks out from behind the robe as the four of you walk into the building Din had been leading you to before the Magistrate stopped you.

Din walks with Karga up the stairs and they speak quietly to one another. You follow with Grogu still behind your robes. They lead you into a large room with a giant balcony. The High Magistrate motions for you and Grogu to sit in the chair behind his desk as he and Din walk outside the doors and look over the city.

Grogu climbs out of the bag and sits in your lap. You’re suddenly being spun around slowly. You see Grogu holding his little hand out. You try to stop him, push his hand down into his lap or something but your chair is still spinning. You put your feet down onto the floor to try and halt yourself but you just end up kicking a metal trash can from under the desk with a loud crash. 

The chair slows down and when it finally stops, Din and the Magistrate are staring at you. Grogu’s head won’t stop turning from side to side like he is still moving. You’re still dizzy, if we’re being completely honest. The room is still moving in your eyes and you just smile at Din and Karga. Holding Grogu in your lap. The trash can is still spinning beside you. 

“Sorry. It’s hard to stop him when he’s focused on something.” It comes out stuttered and nervous. “He’s just…bein’ a kid.” You pet the top of Grogu’s head softly and he makes a purring warble you’ve never heard before. You look down at him and he’s chewing on something from the Magistrates desk. “I am…so sorry.” You press your lips together tightly and attempt to take whatever the child has in his mouth away from him but he holds on tight. “Do not...embarrass me.” You whisper into his ear and pull– what you come to find is a tracking beacon– out of his mouth and set it back onto the desk in a puddle of slimy saliva. “So so sorry.” 

Din hasn’t moved, or stopped looking in your direction once since he and Karga turned around.

The Magistrate looks at you up and down and then at the child in your lap. “...as I was saying… There’s a lot of money to be made on Nevarro. Set you and your group up in a nice tract over by the hot springs.” Karga points out over the small town and out onto the edge of the city. “You, the woman, the child. Hang up your blasters. Live off the fat of the land.” 

Is that why Din brought you here? To settle down? You’d have absolutely no issues with that at all. Being Din’s woman and Grogu’s mother doesn’t sound half bad. Sounds all good, actually. You see nothing wrong with this and love that Din brought you here to live with him. He’s so smart. Take his helmet off, settle down. You can try to bake tarts and sweets and breads like in the shoppe you passed earlier. 

“Grogu.” Din says curtly.

Karga looks at him oddly and then flicks his eyes at you. “Huh?” The Magistrate looks you up and down again like he can’t believe that’s your name. 

“His name is Grogu.” Din turns again and walks to you, taking the child out of your arms; leaving you just sitting in that nice comfy, spinning chair. All alone. Din walks back to Karga and holds him up. “Grogu.”

Karga curls a lip lightly and looks back at you once more before turning back to the town below him. “If you say so,” he doesn’t sound amused. “Like I said, there is a beautiful parcel down by the flats.” 

“I appreciate the offer, but I have matters to attend to.” Din explains, less curt and more in his normal, raspy soft tone.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. It was too good to be true. You knew it deep down inside you wouldn’t be staying here. Even if you do want to bake tarts and sew Grogu new robes in a nice little house with a yard to play in. 

“Oh? I’m…confused. I thought your mission was over, but you’re still with the chi—Grogu, and the woman I've heard about. They're still with you.” Karga waves a hand at you like you’re not there.

You sit quietly and watch, just happy to be involved. Happy to not be stuck on the ship, so they can talk about you like you're not here— because you could not be here. And you don't want it to go back to that.

“I completed my quest. My aliit returned to me. I removed my helmet and now I’m an apostate.” Your head turns to Din now, looking at him now instead of Karga. 

“All the more reason for you to stay here. Where you come from, you may be an apostate but here…but here you’d be landed gentry.” The Magistrate explains to Din as he looks down from the balcony. 

Karga is right and Din should listen to him. Stay here, on Nevarro. Din can watch as you bake him tarts and play with Grogu. It’ll be perfect. 

The door to the room opens and a droid walks in. Karga groans at the intrusion and lets his head fall back in frustration. The droid explains that there are pirates in the courtyard.

You stand but Din puts his hand on your shoulder and hands Grogu back to you. 

“Stay here. Don’t move.” Din sits you back down in your chair with the child.

You humph quietly, and are left alone in the High Magistrate's office.

There is a commotion down below the balcony right outside. You go to look because Din isn’t here to tell you not to. The balcony isn’t high, maybe three or four stories up. The wind blows the hood of your head as you peek over. You’re watching as Karga and Din walk side by side down the road in the center of the courtyard. They stop at a group of mismatched pirates outside of a building. You can’t hear what they say. 

Karga steps in front of Din and begins to speak to the pirates. Just talking. Din leans against a tree a couple of feet back from him and watches. They just talk for a while. Nothing crazy and then the pirate Karga has all his attention on; walks out into the street with his hands held out down to his sides. He speaks. You wish you could hear what he was saying. Din pushes himself off the tree he’s leaning against and takes two steps forward as the pirate talks to the High Magistrate. You swallow hard as Karga pulls his red and gold robes back away from his hip. You can see the blaster pistol strapped to his thigh even from all the way up here on the balcony. 

It’s so tense. People run past them on the street below you, a woman shouts for her kids to come inside. You swallow hard again as your free hand– the one not holding Grogu to your chest for dear life– grips the stone railing of the balcony. Everyone below looks like they’re frozen in place they’re still for so long. Your heart is pounding in your throat and then it happens. They both reach for their pistols but High Magistrate Karga is faster and unholsters his weapon, aims, and shoots all before the pirate can get his pistol up to his chest. Karga disarms him; shooting the blaster pistol right out of his hand. You let out a long sigh of relief as you can hear Karga say loudly enough,

“Tell Capitan Gorian Shard that Nevarro is no longer friendly to pirates. Now get outta here.” 

There is no movement from anyone below you. It makes your heart almost beat so fast you can’t feel it. Din moves his hand slowly to the blaster pistol on his waist and you hold your breath as you know what’s about to come. It happens so fast that you almost miss it when you blink. The rest of the pirates withdraw their weapons but Karga already has his own pistol out and Din had been fingering the trigger on his for at least thirty seconds before the pirates even reached to draw. Every single one of the pirates fell to the street except for the one Karga had disarmed first. The one he had been speaking to originally. 

The High Magistrate speaks again but you can’t hear him anymore. The pirate takes off running down the stone-laid street in the opposite direction. Din turns his head and sees you on the balcony. You wiggle your fingers at him from way up in the air and turn around, back into the office you were left in.

You set Grogu down in the chair and watch as he picks up little orange pieces of candy from a bowl on the desk and brings them to his mouth with the Force. 

“You cheat. You’re a cheater.” You say to him as you grab yourself a handful of candy and begin to pace, tossing them into your mouth as you think. They crunch delightfully between your teeth with a sugary coating and then the inside is fruity and chewy– you need to find out where the High Magistrate got these– they’re phenomenal. 

Din’s not taking any offer of land on Nevarro. It makes you sad but you enjoy your time on the ship. That’s your home, even if it doesn’t really feel like one. You live there, make memories there. Watch the child learn new things. You learn new things too. Inside the ship, you learn about Din. He wants to teach you how to pilot. You’ve seen his face even if it was all beaten and bloody by your elbow. Maybe Nevarro isn’t where you’re supposed to settle down if that was ever even an option. You don’t know.

You also need to learn more Mando’a. What had Din said to Karga and did Karga even know what he called you?

Grogu ate all of the candy out of the bowl on Karga’s desk. You may have helped- it was too good. You just kept scooping up handfuls and handfuls mindlessly as you paced his office. Grogu watched you from his place in the chair. 

“What did Din come here for? Did he tell you? I think he tells you more than he tells me.”

Grogu watches as you stand in front of the desk and talk to him.

“What does he need a broken-down droid for anyway? From what I can remember him saying long ago, he doesn't like droids...or they don't like him...or something about a dislike between Din Djarin and droids?” You rest your hands on the desk and lean into Grogu. “C’mon, kid... you've gotta give me something! Anything! What are we doin-”

The door to the office opens and you snap up, taking your hands off the desk. You bring them back up behind you and turn to see Din and High Magistrate Karga walking in. 

“Sorry about that, Mrs…” Karga looks at you and then glances back at Din, who says nothing to correct him. “Mrs.” He finishes. “Just had a couple of things to take care of.” He smiles at you apologetically for leaving you here in his office. You shake your head and take a small step to the left, showing him the empty bowl where candy used to be.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. Grogu ate all your candy.” It’s a lie. You ate it all. You couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Oh, it’s easy to get. They have it in stock down at the shop on the main road. I’ll send a droid to get more. Don’t worry.” Karga smiles at you, taking a couple of steps towards you. “Miss. Mando, it was a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard plenty about how exceptional you are with the ch-with Grogu while Din is away. Impressive. He’s a handful from what I can remember.” Karga is an attractive man, older with a dark complexion. His facial hair is white and contrasts beautifully against his skin. 

“Thank you.” You can feel yourself blushing for all different sorts of reasons. “He’s definitely a lot. Fun though. And a good bug catcher if I ever need one.” You smile up at Karga as he places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Don’t let Mando keep you out in the stars too long. Try to get him to accept my offer once he’s done with whatever matters he’s attending to.” It’s said quietly as if Karga didn’t want Din to hear him say that to you. Doesn’t matter, Din’s clearing his throat because he did. 

“Those service droids should have brought IG-11 in now, yes?” Din asks, walking to Grogu. He picks him up and cradles him in the crook of his elbow. Karga nods and keeps his hand on your shoulder as he leads you down the stairs. 

“I offered him the marshall position here in Nevarro.” The High Magistrate explains, again hushed as Grogu and Din follow behind. “If you can get him to change his mind, I’d also have a job for you here. There is plenty that needs to be done. You wouldn't be forgotten about, Miss. Mando.” 

Karga takes his hand from your shoulder and leads you all into a room. The top half of the droid statue Din showed you earlier is lying on a slab of metal in the center of the room. 

“Huh.” You look back at Din as he hands you the child. “You’re gonna fix it?” Din nods. You watch Din start pulling on wires, and removing things from the inoperative droid. “We need a droid I trust to help us explore Mandalore. This is that droid.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. We. Us. Mandalore. What’s he talking about?

“There. He’s hooked up to power.” Din says as you hold the child in your arms next to him. “Let’s see if we can wake him up.”

“Isn’t this an assassin droid?” Nervously, you look up at Din. He nods. “What are we doing with it then?” 

“Before I met you he was the one who took care of the child.” Din explains. He presses two wires together but nothing happens. You watch the droid's head and wait for movement, holding Grogu against you tightly. Nothing. 

“There you go.” Karga laughs and points to the droids pinchers at the end of his arms. 

“S-subparagraph sixteen-teen-teen of the B-B-Bondsman G-Guild p-protocal waiver.” IG-11 stutters as it sits up, its head twisting and turning right to you and Grogu. “Immediately p-produce said…” You look at Din with worry in your eyes as you turn the child away from the droid. IG-11 reaches for Grogu and you turn further away from it. “That b-b-bounty is mine.” You’re taking steps back but the droid has fallen off the slab and to the floor and is now crawling towards you. “Terminate asset. Terminate asset.” It’s repeating itself over and over. Now Din is shooting at it with his blaster pistol but it does nothing to stop the attacker directly in front of you.

“Miss. Mando!” Karga calls out as IG-11 reaches for and clasps around your ankle. It’s squeezing so tightly you’re sure it’s going to break your bones. It’s happening so fast. Karga holds his hands out and you toss Grogu to him. The droid immediately lets go of your ankle and starts crawling towards Karga with determination.

“Terminate asset.” IG-11 repeats over and over.

“Shoot it!” You shout at Din who is already shooting at it. The droid is about to pass under a large bust of High Magistrate Karga. Another droid, not IG-11 pushes the bust off the pillar it’s resting on and it falls onto the head of IG. 

“That’s one way to use your head.”

You stand next to Din with Grogu in your arms. You’re watching the Anzellans work on IG-11. Your ankle still hurts and you’re sure it’s probably already bruised. The little creature in front of you starts to talk in his native language. You understand everything and nod your head, pursing your lips together. 

“Huh.” You keep nodding.

“Uh…okay. I don’t understand. Do you speak Huttese?” Din shifts uncomfortably next to you. You look up at him with raised eyebrows.

“He said it broke.” You motion to the small creature who is still talking intermittently with the other Anzellans. You nod as you listen to them carefully.

“That’s no good. I need this one. This one is my friend.” Din speaks slowly to the creatures working on the droid so they’ll understand him.

“Mhm. Yeah…Okay.” You keep listening to the little creature speak. “Yeah. No. The memory circuit is busted. He said this droid is not your friend anymore.” You look up at Din. 

“How do you know what he’s saying?” He asks curiously. “Tell him to put in a new one.”

“I learned things while on Canto Bight.” You turn your nose up at him. “I know things.” You look back at the little creature and smile. You ask very nicely if he can put in a new memory circuit. The little man speaks up to you quickly. “Mhm.. really? Okay. Okay. No? Ohhhhh, okay.” You look back at Din and shake your head. “Not happening. The part you need is too hard to find. They don’t make them anymore. He said to buy a new droid. This one is…” You look back at the Anzellan in front of you and raise an eyebrow. He mutters something and you nod. “Poodoo.”You nod at Din. 

“Can they fix him without the memory circuit?” Din’s annoyed. The little creature pipes up now so Din can hear him. 

“Yeah. IG no think. No think.” His little accent is so cute. Din sighs.

“What if I bring you the part?” Din looks back at the little creature. 

“Oh. Then no problem. We fix.” The little man looks up at Din and says it so he can understand. 

“He said he can-” You start but Din shoots you a look. Grogu throws one of the Anzellan's wrenches across the room. He must have picked it up when you leaned over to listen and translate for Din. 

“I’m so sorry about that.” You apologize and reach for the wrench but Grogu grabs a chain hanging from the ceiling and pulls it as you walk by. It rattles loudly and something from above falls down to the ground. The Anzellans start to mutter again in their own language. “No. No. He’s not a pet. He’s a baby. He’s just young!” Now all the little creatures surround you as Grogu looks down at them from your arms. 

“Bad baby.” One of the little creatures says. Grogu throws another wrench you didn’t even know he had down at the creatures. They all scream and go running. 

“Yeah, he’s  a bad baby!” You growl down at Grogu who is still watching the Anzellans scatter down by your feet. “So bad.” 

Grogu is back in his bag. You have a bag of orange candy in one hand and a box of baked goods in the other hand. 

“Aren’t you so glad we stopped? They had those tarts! The same one from the market so long ago.” You look up at Din who is focused on getting you back into the ship. Din shakes his head and sighs. 

“Are you glad we stopped?” He looks down at you, one hand on your lower back as he gently pushes you through the crowd. You nod happily and lead him back to the ship. “Then I’m glad. C’mon. Speed up a little.” Din pushes his hand into your back and steps directly behind you. One gloved hand slides down and cups your ass while you're walking. It makes you blush. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper. Din doesn’t say anything, just gives your ass a nice squeeze or two before his hand moves to your back again. “Do it again.” You look around to see if anyone’s watching but no one is looking at you. Din slides his hand back down to your cheek, gripping it tightly as he presses his chest into your back. 

“Being bad.” He rasps into your ear as he continues to push you towards the ship.

Grogu is asleep in his bed. Din is waiting for you in the ship's dining area when you walk out after changing into your nightgown. 

“You look strong.” Din nods as you reach into the cupboard for your orange candy. You smirk and flex your bicep for him. 

“I’m getting lazy here on this ship with you. Eating candy and sweets.” You smirk at him and sit down at the table. You watch him puttering around with something from his beskar. The question you want to ask is a little scary, you don’t know if you want the answer. You ask anyway. “What does ‘aliit’mean?” The candy is just as good as it was in High Magistrate Karga’s office. “You called me that when you introduced me.” Munching happily on your sweets. Din doesn’t answer you for a couple of moments. 

“It means family.” The helmet tilts up to you and you freeze with a piece of candy in your hand. “I hope that it’s okay. Me addressing you like that.” Din looks at you. You toss the candy back into the bag and look at him. 

“Is that what we are to you? Grogu and I?” Din places his hand on yours as you speak and nods. “Then it’s fine. I like it.” A smile spreads across your face. “I liked Miss. Mando better but, it’s fine.” You tease as Din squeezes your hand gently. 

“C’mon. I wanna do something.” Din pulls you up from the table and leads you into the entry hull of the ship.

“What now? What could The Mandalorian want now?” Din tilts his head down to you and starts to unbutton the top of your nightgown. You watch and smirk down at him. “Ohh, what The Mandalorian always wants.” Din presses his forehead against yours as he slides the fabric off your shoulders. 

“You look strong enough for it now.” He rasps quietly.

Frowning, you pull your head away from his but his hands on your shoulders keep you close. “Strong enough for what? Do I want to know?” You’re nervous now. 

“I was too worried before. That I’d hurt you.” Din rasps from the modulator and pulls you in close, and presses his forehead against yours. “I didn’t want to hurt you but I think you can do it now.”

You’re still frowning. Hurt you? Do it? What is he talking about?

“What do you mean?” Din takes his helmet off and looks down at you and you almost cover your eyes with your hands but you remember you’ve seen it. He’s just as handsome as you remember. Even with a black eye. 

“Let me show you.” Looking at him while his non-modulated voice speaks is like standing under a waterfall you imagine. The weight of it just presses you into yourself. You feel so encapsulated by the deepness and softness and beauty of it. It drowns out all the other sounds you could hear.

Everything happens so fast. Somehow, the both of you are completely naked, even his helmet is off, and he has you sitting on the edge of the table in the dining area— his two thickest and longest fingers pumping in and out of you slowly, stretching you open for what you've been waiting so long for.

Din's forehead is resting against yours, his other hand is wrapped around the back of your neck holding you close to him as he pushes you closer and closer to that edge.

For the first time since you've met him- Din hasn't stopped talking.

"Don't want to hurt you," he whispers, his eyes locked onto yours. "Never want to hurt you."

You capture his words on your tongue and let them slide down your throat, and moan your own wanton desires out to him, "Want you to."

Din pulls back only an inch, giving you a perplexed look as his fingers curl against that spot inside of you once again, the heel of his palm now pressed and rubbing against your clit while he eases you back onto your elbows.

"Really, ad'ika? You want that?" His fingers move faster at the idea of bringing you some sort of pain that mingles with your pleasure.

The words what does that mean, leave your lips, but they're laced in with a moan, and a shiver through your whole body that makes it hard to actually speak.

"Means 'little one'," Din leans over your torso, his chest flush against yours. "You're my little one, yes? My ad'ika?"

Din is so beautiful. If you could etch his beauty into the back of your eyelids so he could be seen whenever you closed them, you would. You'd give all the credits you have saved, you would give years off your life just to know that there would be a place where you could look at him forever.

He was handsome in the dark that night when he showed you, but right now— it's well lit, and there is no sleepiness clouding your vision or hindering your ability to really be excited to drink him in.

And Din lets you. It's like he knows you're trying to memorize his face before he has to put that foresaken fucking helmet back on, so he's letting you take him in, hear him unmodulated— and watching him speak is like a work of art.

"Are you?" He questions, his fingers stalling their movements inside of you. His brown eyes haven't left yours since he got you on the table, it felt like he couldn't look away- even if he did want to.

Swallowing hard, you nod up to him- because you are his. You've been his for so long.

"Say it," his voice is stern, and he doesn't curl his fingers inside of you again, he pushes them further than he has yet, and it makes your eyes flutter.

"I'm yours."

The words leave your lips and Din withdraws his fingers from you, and places them into your mouth.

"Suck," he murmurs, placing himself between your legs. So you do, tasting yourself on his fingers, teasing him with your tongue between space between them.

The table feels like ice under your buttocks, but it's such a stark contrast to the heat radiating off Din between your thighs. Every single atom or fiber, or cell— whatever is holding you together as a person— is quivering. It's shaking like you might vibrate off the edge of the table.

"Ad'ika, are you ready?" Din whispers, pulling his fingers from your mouth and placing them into his. He half hums, half moans at the taste of you still lingering.

"I'm ready," you nod, eyes glued to his mouth. Everything inside of you is telling you to look down so you can watch him notch himself at your entrance for the first time, but you can't pull your gaze away from his face.

Din finally pulls his eyes away from yours, because he wants to watch. You're both trembling, you can feel it in the hand on the back of your neck. It feels time stops, both of you are still, just the heaving of your chests, and Din rubbing the tip of him along your soaked slit.

"Put it in," you whine quietly, eyes still locked onto his face, watching him lick his lips in anticipation.

Din's eyes flick up to yours, and a half smirk plays across his lips, "Ad'ika, I've waited just as long as you—"

"Put it inside," you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him into you.

Din leans in and presses a kiss, a real one- his lips to your forehead, very softly before he pushes just the tip inside of you.

It's breathtaking- you gasp at the sudden stretch and burn as he opens you up for him. With you jaw hanging open, and no sound coming out of your mouth you finally sit up and look down at him lewdly splitting you open around his throbbing, veiny length.

"Maker…"

"Maker…"

Both of you breathe the word simultaneously.

Then a soft whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it as Din pushes another inch of himself inside of you.

Din's eyes flash up from where he's pushing further into your dripping hole, to your eyes. "I'm hurting you?" He frowns, his brows furrowed together slightly.

You shake your head, then nod, and then shake your head from side to side again rapidly, "S'really good, please d-don't stop." You plead with him quickly, reaching out for him in any capacity.

Din's hand leaves the base of his cock where he had been holding it, and finds yours still searching for something to hold on to. He wraps your fingers around the back of his neck and they tangle in the mess of his loose, brown curls.

"Don't stop?" Din questions, his second hand now coming to the back of your neck to wrap around the one he still has there.

"Please don't stop," you confirm, beg, plead for him to move, to give you some sort of friction or satisfaction around the immense burn still happening as you mold to fit him inside you. "Please, p-please, Din—"

Din answers your supplications with a firm snap forward of his hips and he's entered you completely. His hips flush against yours.

The pained, moaned sound that's torn from your throat is loud, and it doesn't sound like it feels good— even though you want this. This is pain you're willing to give him— willing to go through to be close to him. It doesn't matter, it's a pain that stings in the sweetest way.

Din's eyes narrow on yours, a silent command for you to give him another confirmation that you still want this- that you still want him to hurt you just a little until it morphs into pure bliss.

You nod, mouth still hanging open silently.

Din groans, resting his forehead against yours once again, seemingly pleased with your silent need for more. "Fuck, little one, sucking me in so fucking good… Maker," he sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "You're so soft and warm, like I knew you would be."

All you can do is stare up at him, with tears in your eyes- mostly from the discomfort that has yet to settle into something you think you'll be able to enjoy. You'll will yourself to fit around him— you don't care because you love Din. You love him so much, and you wish you could say those words to him— but it's so fucking terrifying, and there are some scared tears in your eyes too.

All these feelings, and now this, this intense wave of new adoration for this man who usually dons beskar and a helmet, naked between your thighs right now. Din migrates his kisses to your cheeks, and the side of your face as his mouth settles directly in front of your ear.

"Shhhh, don't cry, please don't cry— it'll feel good soon, little one."

It feels like a promise as he pulls his hips back from yours slowly.

"Ohhhh fuck," you clench your eyes shut tight, and grip the hair at the base of his neck even tighter, as if that'll keep him in place, keep his massive length from leaving you fully.

"That's it," he coaxes, his thumbs rubbing circles at the base of your jaw, his fingers still intertwined around your neck.

"Take me, take every inch." He rocks forward then, and you whine at the movement, your entire body heating up from the inside out.

You can't think, can barely breathe, consumed by his intimidating size and the pressure of his body against yours, surrounding you completely.

"You're so perfect for me," Din praises, voice low and rough. "So beautiful and tight, and fucking perfect." He grunts.

He starts thrusting then, languid movements that have you arching up into him, feeling overwhelmed by too many sensations. "This okay?" he asks, voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I'll stop-"

Pleasure starts to peek through the veil of discomfort, winding its way up your spine until you're gasping, high and breathy. "Din, Din, fuck," You babble, hands scrabbling for a hold on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "Don't stop— don't stop, p-please keep going."

He groans at that, hips stuttering. His rhythm falters but doesn't cease, picking up speed. "Greedy girl," he teases. "It feels good now?"

"Yes," you sigh.

"Good, c'mon on."

Din has both hands pressed against the wall of this new ship by his waist. The bend in your knees is draped over both of his forearms and he’s holding you against the wall. Your back is pressed against it and your hips are pulled away, supported by Din. 

His thrusts into you are not gentle or feather touches like the first night he woke you up in the dark. The loud smacking of skin against skin and your dripping cunt echo in the empty, quiet ship every time Din slams his hips into yours. He’s slamming them so hard your back moves up and down on the wall behind you. You're slick with sweat. 

Din wasn’t wrong when he said he would have hurt you before. The man cannot hold himself back now that he’s inside you again. He held back on the dining table, but he cannot anymore.

One of your hands is behind his neck, holding onto him tightly. You can feel him at your cervix, it’s a shock when he drives his hips into you. Din’s pushing every sound and every single ounce of air out of you. You are a squeaking mess against the wall behind you. The only sound coming out of you as he’s fucking you is a strained, small, quiet little pant with the tiniest exclaim of pleasure that your body can find inside of you. Your eyes are closed tightly, the grip on the back of his neck has got to be hurting him because what he’s doing to you is sending a completely new tsunami of goodness through you. These are not waves. 

It’s been one big orgasm since he started these thrusts into you. You haven't stopped. You’re dripping down Din’s thighs you’re so fucking wet. His sounds of pleasure are filthy. Deep grunts from his chest and guttural moans, unable to control how hard he fucks you. 

"You like this?” Din grunts deeply at you. All you can do is nod. “Say it.” He’s demanding it, no stutter, no soft voice of amazement or awe. He’s fucking up into you so deeply, “Say it," Din demands, needing your voice.

“Yes.” You finally find enough air inside you to force it out. Your head is spinning and you haven’t been able to form one clear thought since you and Din watched him slide his cock into you for the first time. You couldn’t even speak over the feeling of it stretching you. It felt like it was going to split you in half at first. 

“Yes, what?” More thrusts into you, quickly knocking you back against the wall each time, your sweat keeps you sliding up and down in rhythm with him. Din’s being so aggressive. You got a little tiny taste of it the other night when he face fucked you, but he held back then. He’s not holding back now.

“Y-yes. I-I l-love it.” You’re stuttering with each smack of his hips against yours. Din’s thrusts get faster as you speak to him like you’re the one controlling how fast and how hard he moves. 

“Say forever.” Another guttural demand forced out between hard upward slams of his hips into yours. 

“Oh my Mak- For-ever,” It comes from somewhere deep inside you like he just forced it from within you with those thrusts.

“Little one-” He’s looking down between you now, watching his hard cock disappear into your velvety wetness as he bucks his hips up into yours. The base of him is gleaming in your leaking slickness. It makes him groan, watching it. Encourages him to move faster. “-so per-fect.” He draws the word out, his forehead finds your shoulder. 

You’re suspended in the air, you can no longer even find the energy inside of you any more to keep your head up. It’s leaned back against the metal wall. Your eyes are closed as he rips another orgasm out of you. You don’t even make a sound when it happens. The only way he knows is by the walls of your cunt tightening and squeezing around his cock thrusting inside of you.

“That’s a good girl.” It’s another low guttural sound in your ear. “Love w-when you come on me. Love feeling you c-come.” You’re obsessed, love when he calls you a good girl and tells you to come on him. It’s the soundtrack you want to fall asleep to when he’s gone. 

Then he’s withdrawing from you. Your feet touch the ground before you can even comprehend what’s happening. Din’s hands are on your waist, turning you. He puts his hand flat on the wall from behind you. 

“Hands.” It’s a guided instruction on what Din wants you to do. You follow it, placing both of your hands on the wall. “Beautiful.” He’s still behind you, hands on your hips again, pulling them back against him. Din’s feet kick yours apart gently and you let him open you up. Then he’s pushing himself back into you.

The sounds your skin makes when he jackhammers into you are obscene. Like someone’s being beaten up. You are being beaten up...technically. You’ve never ever been fucked like this before. Your supple mounds bounce below you as he rams himself into you over and over. 

“Perfect— everything about you is perfect. Your cunt, your mouth... your ass,” he grunts, checking the list in his head aloud as he fucks you. "All so beautiful.” Then you hear his mouth wetly suck something from behind you, and the thoughts of what he’s doing run through your head. He presses his thumb against your puckered hole. “I want it. Can I t-take it? Please?” Din grunts, but is still being so polite while he thrusts into you angrily.  

“Yes.” You’re able to whimper out. You want him to take it too, thinking back to the time he used the Amban on you. “Take it.” Whimpered again.

“My little one,” he whispers as he slips the tip of his thumb into you. 

The pleasure between your legs completely masks any pain that might have happened when he did that because you don’t feel a thing. Just being stretched around his digit. The feeling of fullness as he rests the rest of his fingers just above your ass. He pushes it in deeper and holds it there as he continues to slam against you, again the sounds in the ship are salacious and filthy. Wet-smacking skin, your choked on sobs of bliss as he made you come once more. 

“Fuck.” He groans and his hand grips your hip tightly. “Fuck, take it. Fucking take it.” His thrusts become more staggered and sloppy. Din slams himself into you one last time and then holds himself against you, still grinding his hips into yours. You can feel him twitch and throb inside of you as he releases.

You’re ebbing off your orgasm for the seventeenth time. One last thrust of his hips to fully empty himself. He’s quivering. It makes you smile as you rest your forehead against the hull. 

“Perfect.” Din’s out of breath but uses what he’s got left in his lungs to let you know. His forehead finds the center of your shoulder blades. He’s sweating.

You can feel him leave his sticky sweat on your back when he stands, slowly and carefully pulling himself from within you. You groan at the empty feeling, his spend dripping down your thigh.

You stay, leaning up against the wall like that until his hands pull you away from it. 

“I can’t.” You gasp. “Oh, my Ma-ker.” Another forced-out gasp of approval of what he’s just done to you. “I can’t. Tired. Sore.” You whine as you push yourself off the wall. 

“Tired. Bed. Sleep. Perfect. Beautiful.” Another list in his head that he audibly checks off to you as he leads you backward towards the softest sheets and the most perfect bed on the floor as long as Din is beside you. 

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux @harriedandharassed @realmamabear79 @blahkateisdone @picketniffler @cheekychaos28 @lilac-boo @pedrostories

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[mandoloriancookie]

Touch: Part 6

Rating: explicit (smut, language)

Summary: Din has another special 'gift' for you-- and then some unfortunate news.

tags: I'm not giving any tags or warnings for this chapter. It's smutty and angsty. Beware. You are responsible for the things you consume.

a/n: I've said it before and I'll say it again. If you read this on ao3, no you fucking didn't. It's still unbeta'd, but proofread!! I did that this time!! I also am re-working the story slightly because I CAN. Spoilers to the show and the book of boba fet and maybe the next season because I helped J. Faveau write it.

The whole day was so much fun. So different than after your arrival yesterday.

Din showed you how to fix certain things on the ship should they break while he isn't here. He also showed you the beginning stages of piloting and flying the ship were you to ever have to do such a thing.

You hope not.

Din is being mostly nice to you, and is acting like he wants to spend time with you. It's a stark contrast to how he treated you before he saw your doodles.

Din never once laid a hand on you, not even a handshake the first night you met.

It's so very subtle, his touches now that you're back— gentle ghosts of the yellow leather across the tops of your hand when he's showing you the buttons on the control panel. He had placed a strong hand on your waist to ground you so he could reach around you from behind to grab something off of a shelf.

Not innocent touches by any means, but they were different from your dynamic when the lights were off.

Things felt good, almost like they did right before you went to go 'play Jedi' on a planet you had never heard of before you got dropped off on it.

You’re not mad he left you on Ossus. No. You wanted that. You wanted to live on that planet so bad you begged him. Basically told him that you’d stay there no matter what he said. So, he made it happen for you. Din spoke to Luke and Ahsoka privately while you and the child sat in the grass, watching from afar. It was scary not knowing what their answer would be. When Din returned he said that they would take you in, only if you trained with Ahsoka.

Which was a very sweet gesture. 

Until he left you there for two years. All you did was train! Not being a child meant there was no need for the schooling and the classes that the younglings took. You trained day in and day out. Like a Jedi.

Ahsoka was hard on you, trained you like you were already strong and powerful; you weren’t in the beginning and it was hard. So hard you thought you wouldn’t make it. You did make it though— made it out stronger and faster than before. Better on your feet and more capable than you ever thought possible.

Luke and Ahsoka were so smart— almost like they knew you couldn't resist him.

They are selfish and cruel for doing that to you and Din! Neither one of them even told you they were doing it.

There is still a part inside of you that's furious that Din didn't throw things around and demand to see you! He is a bounty-hunter in a metal suit! He could have made a couple dents and holds in that sex forsaken temple!

Din is the reason you didn’t get offered a lightsaber of your own. That's the only reason. It has to be, you were such a good Jedi outside of the fact that you spoke about Din to Ahsoka daily. All the time when you weren't running until your lungs gave our or being beaten with sticks!

Whatever. You don’t even really care anymore. Barely think about not being offered a lightsaber at all. Almost never.

Right this very second though… you’re looking at the amored man you’ve been pining after for so long, and he’s standing there in only his helmet and the black pants he wears under his beskar.

Getting ready to fight you .

You have nothing but your nightgown on! What does he expect you to do?

Din The Mandalorian shakes his hands out like he’s loosening them up. You’re unimpressed with this foolishness.

This is what children do and you and him are not children. It has absolutely nothing to with the fact that you might be nervous, the butterflies in your belly are going crazy right now. 

“You want me to…wrestle you?” You wrinkle your face up at him.

Din quickly shifts his body weight from foot to foot and holds his hands up to block— the Maker- loving helmet. As if his helmet wouldn’t completely crush every single bone in every single one of your fingers.

That is not even close to where you would aim, if you were to wrestle and fight with him, like he’s asking but you’re not going to. This is a ruse of some sort, you’re sure of it. 

“Yes.” Din’s two fingers pop up from his fist and he curls them to beckon you over to him. His helmet tilts to the side ever so slightly.

This cannot be happening. He is much bigger than you. Towers over you practically. His shoulders are so broad and he is so strong! If there was one thing you never forgot, even in those two long years, is how much he held back when he touched you! He can’t be serious.

You cock an eyebrow up at him, “In my nightgown?” Looking down, you hold your white nightgown up to him -like he can’t already see it. It’s quite thin, nothing you’d wear to fight in! The fabric goes all the way down to the floor, what does he expect you to do? Really fight him in it?

“It’s white and long. And I have nothing underneath,” your voice wavers slightly as you blink at him again, still not understanding why he wants to do this. You two were just cleaning up the ship together. Picking up after Grogu, who leaves a mess in his path no matter where he’s going or coming from. You follow him around all day and don’t understand how he gets into half the stuff he does.

“I know it’s white, and long." Din starts to circle you slowly. "I can see quite well in my helmet, did you forget?"

There is a weird bashfulness to you right now. It's hard to look at him because you can't fight the smile that's curling at the corners of your mouth, so you keep your eyes on your nightgown and don't even notice that Din has started to move around you slowly.

“It's pretty on you.”

That makes the heat creep up your neck and behind your cheeks. You try to hold back that smile but it’s hard.

“Why do you want to fight?” You look up and he’s two feet to your left. You turn to face him now, “I don’t understand. I don’t think I get anything about you.” You keep shuffling your feet to follow him as he keeps circling. Again so slow, you don’t even notice. He’s so smooth. So graceful.

“You don’t need to understand.” Din speaks calmly from behind the helmet. “You like making me happy. So c’mon. Take your best shot.” He takes one step calculated step forward.

The last two years flood back to you immediately at this sudden and familiar move. You bend your knees slightly and cover your face with your fists, your elbows are tucked neatly into your sides. Just like in training. You took enough rods to the sides and ribs and chest and elbows. You eye him carefully and shift your weight to your back leg.

“Good form," Din says, taking another small step forward.

You drop your right foot back and drag your left across the floor seamlessly an a slow and deliberate attempt to put distance between yourself and the metal man. You try and read him, but it's impossible with his helmet. Ahsoka told you to always watch your opponents eyes- they would tell you where they would try to place their attack.

“You have the upper hand with that helmet.” You start to side step slowly like he is. The tension in the room is palpable. You can drink it out of the air you’re breathing. “You better play fair. I’ll be upset with you if you don’t.” You’re waiting for him to make the first move but he wont. 

“I’ll be honest, I’m rusty with my hand to hand. It’ll be good practice.” Din snickers from the modulator. You raise an eyebrow. You’ve gone two full rotations around where you had been standing before. “But…I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold. Up to you.” You think you can hear the smirk on his face behind the helmet.

“Oohh. Warm or cold. So scary .” You mock Din teasingly. You’ve mindlessly coordinated it so that with every step he takes to his right, you take one to your right at the same time. You’ve synced up your movements with his, just like Ahsoka taught you how to do. You anticipate what he’s going to do even though you can’t see his eyes or face, which is where you should look if your opponent isn’t wearing a mask. If they are, you watch their muscles. Those will tell you where they’re getting ready to strike from.

You scan his entire body quickly. His shoulder muscles are tensing and he’s going to  come forward with his left arm, you can see it. His right leg flexes slightly. The whole thing goes through your brain in a matter of milliseconds.

That’s when he takes a step towards you with speed and his left hand opens and lightly comes around and tries to swing and graze your cheek or forehead or maybe your chin. You see it coming, anticipating it in your calm mind. The top half of your body leans back about four inches, just out of his reach. 

You’ve taken note this entire time exactly where you were going to go for if he made his move and while his arm is crossing over his chest you duck quickly, just below his arm. With a very flat and stiff right hand, you surge forward and connect with the pressure point in his left shoulder.

 Din’s left arm goes limp immediately, and he makes a sound of shocked pain from under that useful helmet. It didn't help him see that coming, it sure didn't. He drops his other arm from his hYou think about tapping him on the helmet with your fingers in his defenseless position but you think that would be rude. A real punch to his ego. 

“Wh-” Din’s helmet snaps between you and his shoulder twice. “You- How did you do that?” Din’s stunned. Can’t believe you just disabled him. You. The girl. The crier. The girl with feelings and all those things. Yeah, he can’t believe you just put your hands on him like that and it actually hurt.

“ Did you not want to fight ?” You smirk at him and stop moving. Din looks down at his shoulder for a long time. Then his helmet snaps back up to you. 

“I was going to go easy on you.” Din said, pointing to his shoulder. “This isn’t easy.” You shake your head at him and shrug your shoulders. You wish you felt bad for him but you actually feel a little better for the fact that he was so cold to you on your first meeting in two years. Even if you were cold to him. Why wouldn’t you have been? He abandoned you on a Maker forsaken planet covered in trees and shrubs and mountains. Okay. The planet was beautiful. A place you wish he would have dropped you off but regardless.

“How was I supposed to know that? You just said you wanted to fight?” You’re watching him as he rubs his shoulder gently and begins to move in circles in the socket. You’re still backing away from him slowly. It’s instinctual, you’re just taking small little shuffled steps back. 

“I said I wanted to spar .” Din’s hand fell from his shoulder and now his full attention is on you. It gives you nervous butterflies. You shake your head at him and point one finger in his direction. 

“You never said spar, you said fight and wrestle. So how is that the same?” You put your hands on your hips and watch him. You see Din’s legs flex and you know what’s coming; Din is chasing you. It makes your stomach drop and your feet dance on the ground for a second as he’s running. Quickly. You sidestep him and run in the opposite direction, out of the room you’re in and down the long hallway of rooms that have little meaning to you.

Besides that there are weapons in them. You keep the kid out of there. It’s been a pretty difficult task so far. Grogu has been the most fun you’ve ever seen him. He’s so independent and doesn’t really eat a lot of bugs anymore but, oh my Maker. The kid’s getting into everything. It’s blowing your mind. The Force is making him a pain in the ass. 

Din has to skip stop when you dodge him and turn in the other direction to chase after you but you’ve already turned into one of the unnamed rooms; a place to hide? You start to look. There is nowhere and now you regret coming in here because it’s just a flat metal table in the center with a bunch of guns on the wall. 

You turn around and Din is in the doorway. He’s blocking your only exit. His hands are on the door frame and he’s an X in the rectangle that leads you to freedom. His chest is rising and falling and his helmet is looking at the floor for a moment until he tilts it up to look at you.

“Hi.” You have a sheepish smile on your face. You’re standing on the far end of the metal table. Din lets his arms fall to his side and walks in, keeping his body between you and the door. His footsteps are slow. You have no idea what he’s going to do. Jump up on the table maybe?

“Hi.” He pant’s softly. “ Why’d you run ?” He’s standing on the opposite side of the table from you. You blink at him. 

“ You chased me!” You point at him. This is so much fun. You love floating in the stars, running around the ship. Watching him be like this around you makes you feel good. Makes you feel so special and your heart is racing because you’re nervous and you love this.

Din says nothing. He just stands there at the other edge of the table. His arms are at his sides and he’s not moving. He doesn’t even look–

The table suddenly and very quickly slides to your left with a jarringly loud honking, screech across the metal floor. You jump back in shock and alarm and you're pressed against the wall behind you, before you can react Din is taking forward steps towards you. You jump to the right and try to dodge him but the room is too small and he wraps his arm around you waist and pulls you into him

“That’s not chasing.” He rasps. 

“Oh my Maker. Yes , that is exactly what being chased is.” You laugh and turn so you can face him. Din’s helmet is tilted down at you. You can feel him looking at your face. You wish you could see him. So badly you wish. Even with all your Jedi training you still want selfish things and wish to see. 

“Do you remember what we did the other night?” He asks. You nod and raise an eyebrow. What new weird thing could this helmeted man want from you? You’ve loved every single one of his weird ideas though, so you look up at him dreamily. 

“I do.” You smile and bat your eyelashes at him. “Were you wanting to do it again?” You interlace your fingers and place them under your chin. You give him your best attempt at big saucer eyes but it does not work. 

“No.” He rasps, gazing down at you. You drop the smile and frown. "Something like that." You lift an eyebrow and look him up and down.

“Oh.” You pull away from him but Din holds you closely and tightly. “What do you want then? Always wanting.” You tease him, because he's a giver. A hard giver who doesn't ask for much in return and it's honestly felt almost too easy. Like, when is the other shoe going to drop. Why does he do that? Give give give. Din has the strangest requests of anyone ever. But you don't hate them.

“I give too. I want to give you something right now.” Din starts to rub himself through his black pants. 

Maker…is it actually happening? Is Din going to give it to you tonight? Finally?

“Will you get on your knees for me? Perfect, pretty little one–in her white dress. Please?” Why does he do this to you? His voice, even behind the rasp of the modulator is so mesmerizing, especially when he talks like that . You almost don’t even feel yourself sinking down to your knees. It’s like his words hypnotized you or put you in a trance. 

You look up at him while he towers over you with his big, broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile up at him happily, happy that you’re here. One of his big, strong, calloused hands touches your cheek softly. His palm connects with it. Maker, did you send him from flames ? Like from real actual flames because he is always so hot. It used to really worry you, but now, now it’s his familiar touch in the dark when you need him. But it wasn’t dark now. He wanted you to see, and he wanted to see you with no night vision. 

“Pretty lips.” His thumb starts to rub over them, dragging them along with his digit gently. “I thought about these lips every day. Kissing them. Licking them. Putting my cock between them. ” When Din says this, between your legs starts to strum happily, like he just started your engine. “I want to be in your throat. So badly. Perfect little one , so badly.” You love the way he’s speaking to you. So nice and sweet and kinda naughty. His thumb pulls your bottom lip down gently and then releases it back up to your top lip with the softest popping sound.

You take his thumb into your mouth without asking, without him offering it. Just suck it between your lips because you just want him to know what you’re willing to give him. You slide the soft warmth of your mouth over the rough pad of his thumb. Helmet never leaves your face. You start trying to Jedi force fuck him into taking if off but you know it’s futile, you don’t have the force in you. Not even a little. You do have his thumb in your mouth though and you're sucking on it softly, trying to make him give you the real thing. Din pulls his hand away and his thumb leaves your mouth with a sucking, wet pop.

“Maker. She is perfect and beautiful.” One hand finds your hair, fingers comb through it so lovingly. So carefully. Din finds a good handful right at the top of your head and grips gently. He lets out a sigh as his other hand leaves your face and pushes the front of his pants down. You’re eager to help, gripping the sides with your fingers and pulling them down to the middle of his thigh. 

“Can I, please?” You whisper, leaning forward towards his length but his grip in your hair tightens and he pulls you away. Din’s free hand finds his base and squeezes gently. “Please?” You can’t take your eyes off of it, like it’s casting a spell on you or something. “ Please?” You finally look up to Din who’s gazing down at you still. Once you look up to him, he moves his hips forward slightly. 

The tip of his cock presses against your lip as his thumb did earlier. Gently. The hot skin pulls your lips wherever it goes and you stick your tongue out to taste the leaking drop of precome from it. It makes Din’s whole body shudder as you flick the tip along his slit and wrap your lips around the tip. You use a little suction to pull him in and then you wrap one hand right above him and start to move it slowly back and forth.

Din groans softly and lets you. You move your hand and take as much of him as you can and then slide everything but the tip out and replace your hand, jerking him slowly while you suck and swirl your tongue around it, paying special attention to his seam. You can feel him trembling at your touch. Your fist never stops moving on his shaft. 

“ Fuck - ing– Maker.” Din breathes heavily. His hips start to buck forward ever so slightly as you start pulling him deeper into your mouth as you stroke him. “Yes. Yes.” Din’s raspy modulated moan is music to your ears as he moves his hand from the base so you can hold him there. You take him until he’s in the back of your throat. “Yes. Please.” It sounds like he’s holding his breath under that helmet again. But you tease him and pull away to just the tip again. He lets out a disappointed sigh. He was holding his breath.

You stroke him again, swirling your tongue. Then you take him into your mouth again, holding him at the base. The tip of your nose touches your fist.

“It’s so perfect. So good. Yes. Yes. So good.” Din strains them out from somewhere in his throat.  He starts bucking his hips forward like he can’t control himself. It makes you gag softly. “ Fuck it’s so good,” His modulated rasp groans come from deep in his chest. Din’s only moving a couple inches. Just fucking your face softly and you let him. Your other hand comes up and wraps around the back of his leg, pulling him into you gently.

Din’s engine must be back there because his hips start to thrust a little faster, the head of his cock slipping further and further back down your throat while his drives forward start a little more aggressive. You do your best to try and relax everything inside of you. Every ounce of resistance that you have, you try and make it go away because you want to make Din feel the way he makes you feel. Mind shatteringly good. 

“Oh fuck.” Din groans deeply, his fingers grip your hair tighter. “Yes. Little one, you like taking my c-cock like this?” You look up to his helmet and he’s gazing down at you. He’s got his free hand on the wall of the ship and he’s leaning on it for support. You nod as much as you can and moan a throaty sound of pleasure. It makes Din’s knees buckle. You do it again and watch as his hand starts to mindlessly search for something he’s not really looking for on the wall.

You pull him deeper, sucking gently on the hardness in your mouth. Your tongue ungulates against the veiny skin on his shaft. His searching hand leaves the wall and finds your hair. Din pulls you down onto his cock completely, entirely. You gag but you also feel warmth in the back of your throat. It makes you cough against him but he holds you down to his base with his hand. 

It’s like he’s choking you, cutting off your airway. You relax your throat as much as you can, even though it’s kind of scary and you’ve never really seen Din like this. It’s not bad, it’s not terrible. It’s a little jarring, but you relax and you take him deeper than you thought you could. Even though you're gagging around it a little harder. The head of his cock is nestled right in the back of your throat and he’s coming. It’s like Din couldn’t help it, the way he’s holding you down onto him. 

“ Ohh-fuck– Ohhh, l-little pretty one.” Din chokes out, his hips thrusting forward while he pushes and pulls your head to and from the base of his cock. “Throat s-so perfect…come inside it– fuck.” Din’s head falls back as you feel the length of him throb inside your mouth with each release.

You are doing your absolute best to take everything he gives you but it’s impossible, you have to push yourself off of him before you either gag too hard or choke on what he’s giving you. 

The minute your hands touch Din’s waist and press against him, the grip he has on your hair softens and he pulls his hips back from your face. His cock leaves your throat and mouth with the most filthy wet squelch you’ve ever heard and you drop to the floor, coughing and choking on everything that’s built up over this escapade that you two have been participating in; saliva, Din’s release.

There is so much of it. 

Tears come to your eyes as you try and keep everything in your mouth. You swallow it quickly and continue to cough, rubbing at the drool that’s dripping from the base of your chin with the back of your hand. That was rough. Very rough. So aggressive and unexpected. It wasn’t that you didn’t love it. It was just hard. And now you’re coughing so hard you feel like you might be sick. 

Din is beside you, pants up around his waist again. His hand is on your back now but the heat from his fingertips on your shoulders is making you sweat even worse. You are already so hot. From the activity, from the coughing. It’s so overwhelming. You shrug his hand off and crawl two inches to the right of him and try to breathe but it’s so hard. Tears are rolling out of your eyes and directly onto the floor below you. 

“W-wat–” More choking. You can’t even get words out but Din is already standing, running into the dining area to get you what you’re asking for. You stay on the ground, breathing in quick, shallow gasps in between fits of sputtering and wheezing. Din’s padded footsteps on the floor of the ship and then there is a metal canteen of water in front of you. You grab at it; the top has already been twisted off for you. 

You take the smallest sip and try to quench the itch making you unable to stop this fit. The water helps tremendously, you sip and then sip again. Cough and sputter. Sip and then gulp. More gulps. It’s so good. So refreshing. Everything about this is heaven right now. You sit back on your bottom, taking in another pull off the canteen before you stop. And gasp. For what feels like ten minutes

Din is beside you again, sitting, holding your shoulders and now his warmth feels inviting. You lean into him and he braces and supports all of the weight you decide to put against him, which is a lot. You’re tired and that was physically exhausting even though you feel like you sat on your knees the whole time. Din did most of the work. His fingertips are so soft when they graze down the side of your arms, he’s being so gentle. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, little one are you okay?” Din’s voice is so soft now, so caring and concerned for you. You look at yourself in the face visor and see your tear stained cheeks and how flushed red they are from everything you’ve been through in the last ten minutes. Your hair is a mess and your lips are puffy and red. Din touches your cheek softly and rubs his fingers over your bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

“ That’s what you wanted to give me?” Your voice is gravelly and deep. You have to clear your throat and take another sip of water. Din’s modulated chuckle makes you smirk. He’s gazing at you, his fingertip still touching and caressing your bottom lip while you stare into his face visor, watching his finger in the reflection. 

“I hope you didn’t hate it.” Soft. Apologetic. Sweet.

You shake your head at him and pant heavily. You didn’t hate it. Needed more warning from Din though. It’s okay. You’d do anything for him— you’re pretty sure as long as it didn’t kill you. You might though, if it meant keeping him safe. You want to keep Din safe, make sure that he always gets back on this ship with you and the green child. 

You proved to Din tonight that you could.

“You’re to stay beside me the whole time.” Din is placing Grogu's bag over your shoulder. “I’ll answer any questions you might have when we get back on the ship, alright? Try not to interrupt.” Din tilts the helmet down at you after he places Grogu in the bag.

Your head snaps down at him. “You’ve never seen me interact with one single other person since we’ve known each other. How would you know if I interrupted? I’m very polite. I wait for my turn.” You snip at him and cover the child with your fancy new robe you got from Ahsoka before you left. It’s got a nice hood that’s up over your face now. 

“Just please follow my instructions. Don’t make me regret this. You or Grogu," Din places both of his hands on your shoulders and touches the forehead of his helmet to yours. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. Please listen to everything that I tell you? It can be dangerous out there. I mean it. Listen to me.” 

Din leads you off the ship and it’s like a desert out here; so sandy and dusty but he’s parked the ship a ways away from a lake. It’s warm and the sun feels good on your face. You are enjoying all of the scenery around you.

Grogu is peeking out from behind your robe, you move the fabric a little so he can see better.

Something big, bigger than you could ever imagine breaks the surface of the water. You don’t even really see what it is. 

Just its back is huge. You could have landed the ship on the damn thing it was so big. It swims slowly and then returns back to the depth of the lake. You’ve stopped walking to watch and see that Din has not stopped walking, doesn’t notice you’re not beside him anymore. You see how close to the waters edge you are and you jog quickly to catch up to him, peering at the water out of the corner of your eye.

Din leads you into the mouth of a cave and you walk for a long time. It’s nice to stretch your legs, and Din basically told you to just shut up and listen to what he says. So you do. You’ll ask about the giant lake creature when you guys get back on the ship. You wonder where you are. Din didn’t say.

You both walk through the entrance to a large underground room. 

There are Mandalorian people everywhere. You’ve never seen this many before.

A couple in Canto Bight before Din, sure— but never this many. They’re all so tall and so intimidating in their helmets.

You try to keep your head forward and not look at any of them in particular. There is one of them standing on a platform above everyone else. They part for Din and watch as he passes. They look at you while you pass them as well. You hide Grogu behind your robe again. 

“Din Djarin.” The intimidating mandalorian woman speaks loudly. “You have removed your helmet. And what’s worse, you did it at your own free will.” 

What the fuck, Maker? Did you just hear that terrifying woman in the armor correctly? He took his helmet off? When the fuck did he do that? And who the fuck did he show because it most surely wasn’t you?

Grogu coos up to you from behind your robes— like he’s answering your silent question. Every bone in your body feels like it’s melting away and you’re having a hard time keeping your knees from giving out.

Din took his helmet off and didn’t show you? He didn’t let you see him?

You almost think about running back to the ship but whatever was lurking in the lake just outside the mouth of the cave makes you rethink.

You think you’re going to be sick.

Din and the woman are speaking and you’re trying to listen, like Din told you, but everything sounds muffled and you think your hands might be covering your ears but they’re still at your side. 

“I can visit the planet. I could bring you proof.” Din’s voice is clear in your head now.

Where is he going? Visit what planet? Why does he need to go there?

You tried so hard to listen but so many other thoughts were going through your head that it was hard to keep everything straight. “I’ll bathe in the living waters beneath the mine’s of Mandalore and bring you proof. Then by Creed; the decree of exile will be lifted and I would be redeemed.” 

Exile!? Redeemed?! What the fuck was Mando doing while you were gone?

The sand in this cave is so nice. You haven’t stopped looking at it since the woman Mandalorian said he took his helmet off. If you dare look up, the tears would roll down your cheek. This way they’re hidden in your robes at least. No one can see. 

“Then I will see you again.” Is the last thing the armored woman says!!

The long walk back to the ship is silent. A Mando specialty. Nothing but the sound of the green child babbling from behind your robe and the shifting of the sand beneath your shoes.

You cannot believe this. You thought–stupidly, it’s clear to you now– that if Mando was going to show anyone his face it would have been you. You feel so foolish. As foolish as you felt when you called him your friend after your trip to the market.

You are foolish, it’s obvious.

The ramp to the ship drops down, and you are the first one on. Quickly you're undoing your robes and letting Grogu out of his bag. You hold him in your arms for a while, looking down into his big eyes and at his wrinkly green skin.

You know Din took his helmet off for Grogu. It’s something you're sensing in your heart looking at him now.

If you wore a helmet and had sworn to do whatever Mando had to swear to wear it forever... you'd show Grogu too, for whatever reason.

That still doesn’t make this hurt any less. 

No words. No questions. Nothing.

You keep to yourself for the rest of the day, keeping busy sewing yourself a new nightgown. It was going to be short and cute for Mando but now you’ve decided to make it long. And down to the floor. Not cute. Just for sleeping. And it’ll be black. Hmph.

You sew so angrily that you stab your fingers more than once. You honestly aren’t even sewing, you’re just pulling thread through fabric with no reason or meaning behind it. You haven’t put a single thought into one stitch since you sat down. 

You hate him now. You really do.

When you thought he hadn’t shown his face to anyone it wasn’t a big deal but now…now you hate him.

It’s a tearing feeling right in your stomach. Every time you breathe or think, or even move it hurts. Brings tears to your eyes. 

Mando’s footsteps echo in the hallway towards the weapons room you’re hiding in after Grogu went to bed. You press yourself into the corner and hope he won't notice or isn’t looking for you when he walks in. 

“There you are," He rasps as if nothing is wrong. "Are we playing a hiding game?” He leans against the wall your back is on.

You shake your head side to side and go back to pretending to sew. You don’t look up at him. It’s obvious you’re mad. You haven’t said a single word to him since you got off the ship to go into that Maker forsaken cave.

Only to hear the worst news of your life so far; that he didn’t care about you enough. That you weren’t enough. 

Once you got back on the ship, you hid- just like he had said. A hiding game.

Fucking Mando!

A part of you-- it may be somewhere in your heart- is telling you to just be grateful for the man in the tin can suit who is standing in front of you.

Another part-- maybe inside your brain, as swirly and twirly as it is sometimes- is telling you to be negative. Telling you to be bitter and cold to him.

You’re jealous and feeling sorry for yourself. You know it. You don’t really care right now. Don’t know if you ever will care with how you’re feeling.

Nothing about this feels good. You had explained your feelings to him, told him how you had felt and he never mentioned any of this? Being exiled? Taking off that fucking helmet!?

Does he not remember the conversation before you left for Ossus' forsaken Jedi fucking temple!?

“I don’t feel well. I think I’m going to bed.” You stand up, gather up all your sewing in your arms and walk past him into the hallway.

Mando follows. “You’ve seemed quiet since we got back to the ship. I feared maybe you were upset with me.” Mando speaks at you while you walk into the sleeping quarters. “Are you alright? Can I get you anything? A warm compress? Water? Are you going to be... ill?”

He hesitates to say the word like it make you ill all over him!

You ignore him and instead of crawling into the bed you shared with him the night before, you set all of your sewing on your nightstand and get into your bed. The one you haven’t thought about since Mando carried you back into his bed last night.

“So you are upset with me.” Mando rasps, like he knew it all along and tilts his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not upset about anything-- what would I even be upset about?” You bring the blankets up to your chin.

You didn’t even change into your sleepwear! Just crawled right into bed with the clothes you’ve had on all day! Weren’t even trying to seem unwell.

This is the worst.

Now you wish that he had just dropped you off on Cantonica at Canto Bight, or that some man with a face had tried to make you forget about Mando. 

“I assume what was spoken about within the clan.” He rasps softly. “I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know when would be a good time.” His stupid modulator is sounding so apologetic now. 

“I’m not upset. I don’t care. Show your face to whoever you want. Don't show it--- Doesn’t matter to me.” 

Mando sighs softly from under the helmet. 

“I did it so that Grogu would know how much I cared for him. So that he wouldn’t forget me.” Mando tries to help, but his explanation makes things worse.

“It’s fine. I said I don’t care. I get it." Your voice is snappy and mean. "We never talked about the night before you abandoned me with no timeline of when you'd be back."

Mando just watches you talk from behind his helmet, never saying anything-- as always-- and you once again, feel as though you may as well be talking to your reflection alone. It's quiet for a beat before you say anything else.

"We never talk about our feelings ever so you must have none! Unless it’s for the child. Which is fine, I feel the same for him. I just don’t care to speak about this anymore.” You speak so fast trying to get all the words out as a literal planet forms in your throat. Stupid tears burn at your eyes because you do care.

It’s hurting you so badly. 

“Was–Did you–...” You can feel Mando looking into the back of your head like he’s got lasers in his helmet. You turn now to look at him. 

“What?” You snap. “What could you have to say now?” 

“I made Luke and Ahsoka let you stay... because it’s what you desired. I made that happen for you.” Mando’s talking like you’re ungrateful for what he did for you. 

"Thank you. Thank you so much for that, I appreciate everything that I learned there. I am stronger, faster, a better protector of my the child for that reason-- and I have you to thank for it. Yes." It's hard to not sound unappreciative now, when you're on the verge of tears and angry about his lack of love for you!

Mando doesn’t speak, as usual. Just watching you talk and also, probably the tears welling in your eyes. 

You roll over to hide the wet, glassiness of your eyes, "I care for you so much, and you can't tell me the same? You don't feel it?" The heat pools behind your cheeks and down your neck and into your chest. "I thought you did once," you murmur, almost silently.

“You think I don’t care for you?” Mando sounds confused.

That makes you so your blood boil; what is he confused about? What could he possibly not understand? 

“You showed Grogu your face but not me... You obviously didn’t care if I forgot you. Despite what you said last night you didn’t seem to care if I knew how much you cared for me before you left for two years.” You keep your head turned away from him because luckily it doesn’t sound like you’re crying, but you’ve got endless tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“Mando.” His voice sounds reminiscent of a time when you only called him that. 

“Yes. Mando. Because your real name should be saved for your close friends, and the people you show your face to." You hiss. "I didn’t even get to hear it from you, I had to hear it from the woman in the fucking cave! I hate caves. I hate helmets-- I hate them all so much. Every single one.” You look back at him over your shoulder with tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“You brought me here to watch the child and to touch me. I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore.” You say quickly, the pitch growing higher and higher as you speak.

Mando stands up from the side of your bed and says nothing. He just leaves the room without a word. 

This is it.

It’s actually coming to an end. Your time with him and the child. Officially over.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I promise the next chapter is satisfying and doesn't end on a cliffhanger- not really.

I'm still so uncomfortable tagging people in my stories, so like I said, please tell me to fuck off if you want me to stop. My feelings won't be hurt (yes they will), and it's completely fine (I'm a big girl and can handle it).

[mandoloriancookie]

Touch: Part 5

Rating: explicit (smut, language)

Summary: So... it's after you and Din talk...

tags: Angst, slight dub-con (I never know bc I would always fuck Din?), being mad as fuck at Din, how could he?, Din/Mando being a dumb stupid idiot, reader also being a dumb stupid idiot. Idiots in LOVE, mutual pining, then normal smut things (without spoilers to the chapter, sorry) SPOILERS TO The Book of Boba Fett and The Mandalorian.

a/n: I've said it before and I'll say it again. If you read this on ao3, no you fucking didn't. It's still unbeta'd, but proofread!! I did that this time!! I also am re-working the story slightly because I CAN.

a/n pt2: I don't know shit about Star Wars/ The Mandalorian. I did however spend an un-Makerly amount of time learning for all of us. If you're not well versed in the lore or the history of Star Wars/ The Mandalorian-- that's okay! This is Star Wars/ Mando for Beginners. (Also stating this as a warning for anyone well versed in the universe and the lore-- shhhhhhhhhhhhhh. DON'T COME FOR ME)

<- Previous Chapter Series Masterlist

The Jedi Code was taught to you. Engraved in your mind.

Harmony, serenity, peace and knowledge. The force. The lightside.

All the bad things; chaos, emotion, passion, ignorance, death.

The darkside. You learned to not fear the darkside, but instead to embrace the force.

Even though you didn’t have the maker forsaken force inside of you! Not even a litte bit! None of 'the force' had found its way into you!

Luke Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano trained you as if you did!

Why!?

They spent so much time building you from the ground up! They made sure you had muscles and could run for long distances. The pair trained you how to fight with your hands!

Your hands know how to use a lightsaber! That's not an easy feat, and it takes a long time to learn that skill.

Oh, how long? A really long time!

Two years!

Two long years without any sign of that man in the tin can outfit! He's never called, he's never come to visit!

Two. Fucking. Years.

Sometimes you hated Din for leaving you here but you very quickly remember that you asked for this. 

Wanted this more than anything.

Foolish!

You wanted so badly to make sure the child was cared for; the child was older than you are!

Much, much older! Not even a baby at all, but a toddler where he comes from. A very special toddler. A force sensitive toddler.

Coming here was a mistake! The only thing you do here is clean up the messes Grogu- that's the child's Maker forsaken name. He has a name!

Grogu makes messes, so you clean them, and get hit with sticks as some sick and twisted form of 'training'! It feels like a joke when they told you to 'block your face and important organs' and then started to pummel you with the hardest, most fast moving sticks you've ever seen!

Not having any amount of the force inside of you really makes training with Jedi's incredibly difficult! Grogu seemed to be having a blast training with Skywalker.

They trained differently, so unfortunately the two of you didn't see each other much, and when you did, your time with him was cut short.

The two of you grew up here a little, together while separated.

Luke and Ahsoka claimed that you babied him and it would impeed his training, so they kept you apart as much as they seemed humane. You became so very depressed without the child and Din.

All alone even though you were surrounded by so many people.

The nights that you got to spend with Grogu were usually spent laying under the stars outside the Jedi temple, speaking fondly of Din.

Mostly for the child's sake, because you only wonder if he had completely forgotten about you.

The answer to that question came when Luke came to Grogu with a gift. 

“A gift?” You say with a curled lip.

Have you not just spent all of your time here; learning the way of the Jedi? That was an attachment and you– in your two years becoming a mock Jedi– were weary. The darkside. The emotion. The attachments.

This was scary.

Luke held the gift in his hands while he spoke. You're subtlety looking for your gift but... you don't see one. Only one parcel.

Oh.

“This gift would be the end of both of your Jedi training, should he keep it. Attachments may not be had, by anyone.” Luke looks between the both of you as you stand before him.

Why is he looking at you!? You might stay at this temple and learn all the ways of the Jedi and become the most powerful non-force sensitive Jedi the galaxy has ever seen!

“You both have come so far, you have so much potential. Both of you.” Luke’s eyes fall on you. “I’ve been surprised before, but this was a pleasant one. Watching you both learn so much. I hope he both makes the choice that’s best for you.” Luke looks to Grogu and hands him the package wrapped in brown paper.

“Why couldn’t I stay if he wanted to leave?” You ask Luke. 

“You come with the child. You leave with the child.” Luke explains simply. 

Maker-- alright. You can’t argue with that. You don't have much to offer besides cleaning up the kid's messes. They're probably tired of watching you perfect the lightsaber.

You're actually pretty good.

Grogu glances up at you just as you look down at him. You kneel on one knee so you can be closer to him, and watch as his six little clawed fingers struggle with the twine wrapped around it, but he uses the Force.

“Cheater.” You whisper to him.

The gift is beskar. A piece of... Mandlaorian armor for Grogu. 

“ Mando said he can’t put it on until he sees you–” 

“M-Mando’s here?” You interrupt accidentally. Your heart begins to pound in your chest at the thought that you might actually be able to see him right now.

Luke gives you a knowing look, as if you should know better, and shakes his head from side to side.

“Ahsoka sent him away. It would interfere with your training. If you wish to stay here and train, continue to learn the Jedi way. You both have come far, but it’s nowhere near close to done. Accepting this would end that training.”

It’s a warning.

The energy in the room is so intense. You can feel electricity in the air almost. Grogu is still standing beside you, looking down at his own piece of beskar.

What’s he going to do?

Luke reaches into his robe.

Everyone here has all these hidden pockets for things in their clothes. You have a couple hidden pockets now too . For things you may need to hide and pull out in moments just like this one day. You hope. It’s so cool when they do that.

Luke hands Grogu a lightsaber. Grogu’s own lightsaber. 

“You have a choice, young padawan.” His gravelly voice rakes across your brain. 

It's so quiet for so long. 

Grogu touches the lightsaber softly. Admiring it. He did the same thing with the armor. 

So long you waited. Understandably, this was a hard choice.

Grogo picks the armor.

Grogu and yourself are on a ship to a hangar where Din is waiting for a response. Your knees are complete mudslides right now. They are not supporting you and they have two years of Jedi training behind them. They’re strong. 

The nerves got to them, though--ate away all the tendons you ever had and dissolved the muscle down to nothing.

Din had been on your mind every single day for two years, and he didn't even ask if YOU wanted to come back. Only Grogu! You feel like a fool sitting next to the tiny green toddler.

Where are you supposed to go when Din tells you that he doesn't need your services anymore!?

The ramp of the ship drops down and there is a cloud of dust. And then there he is. Standing at the base of the ramp, like he had been waiting for you two. Or apparently just Grogu. Since he’s the one who got the gift.

It’s fine. You’re fine. No attachments. Perfect. You’re basically a Jedi. 

Grogu, who is so much faster, so, so much faster than you ever remember him being, flings himself at Din, and attaches himself around his neck.

You watch in amusement, wishing you could do the same thing but you’re partially a Jedi now, so you keep your composure and walk down the ramp slowly. Your mouth is so dry, you don't even attempt to swallow because you know it'll just end in you choking.

Din hugs the child tightly. Their embrace is so sweet. So kind. It makes you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

It makes your heart pang as well.

They hug for a long time before Grogu looks back at you, pulling away from Din’s neck. Grogu extends a curved hand to you. You suddenly feel a gentle pressure around your waist, and are being dragged forward, against your will, feet stumbling beneath you. 

You point your finger at Grogu. “Hey!” You shout. The pressure around your waist stops and you’re set back down on your feet carefully. “I told you to knock that off!"

This is Grogu’s new, fun game. Picking you up and putting you where he wants you. He hasn’t stopped doing it since he learned how.

Dropped you a couple times in the beginning. 

Din chuckles from under the helmet. “I see your relationship has changed quite a bit.” His flat rasp is the same as you remember it.  "He's the one carrying you around now,"

“It’s basically still the same. I have to yell at him for doing things he shouldn’t.” You scowl at Grogu, who hides himself behind Din's helmet.

“It’s nice to see you," Din's modulated voice is even and quiet. As if he doesn't want to say it at all.

That’s it. No hug. Nothing. Not even a handshake.

You could hit him. For several seconds you think about doing it.

Now your fist– with two years of Jedi training– and it might actually hurt him. It might hurt him a lot, and you’d feel good about it. So good.

"It's nice to see you, too."

The anger is pumping in your veins as he leads you through the hanger behind him. You look at all the ships, and look for the Crest but you don’t see it anywhere. Eventually Din stops in front of a ship much larger than the Crest. Bigger guns on it too. 

Din just stands there and looks at you with his stupid helmet shining in the bright light of the hangar. You don’t know what to do. He dropped you off on Ossus where the Jedi temple was, and didn't give you a hug. Not a pat on the shoulders. Literally nothing.

"Keep the kid out of trouble. You'll hear from me soon."

That's all Din had said before he and Grogu went to say their goodbyes!

"It's a new ship." Din points to the giant hunk of metal he’s standing in front of. His beskar looks exactly the same. Maybe a new scrape or two. A ding here or there but you’re not even looking. Not even paying attention to him. Trying not to. 

“Okay...” You resort to using your favorite word.

Why, Maker? Why can’t the man in the helmet speak? Is his helmet on mute? Always so fucking quiet. Until you don’t want him to be, then he won’t shut up.

Din leads you inside. Shows you the sleeping quarters. There are two beds. One for each of you.

There is a separate room for the child.

The dining room is nice and everything else is so nice. So much nicer than the Razor Crest. Even the cockpit you have no idea how to use. 

You look all around the hull like it's very interesting. This is so awkward. Not what you expected when you were on your way here. It's not like you expected a welcome back party. Maybe a hug. Something. 

"What happened to the Crest?" You ask, trying to avoid looking at him.

"It was destroyed."

The sleeping quarters are different from the Razor Crest. The beds are close together, but separated and welded to the floor so there is no way to move them closer together.

The mats that are nestled into the metal frames are thicker and much more plush than the one you had slept on for so long before you were banished away to the Jedi temple.

It’s fine. You’re fine. No emotion. No attachments. It’s all fine. 

The small bag that holds your very few belongings stays packed in case he doesn't plan on you staying very long. He could very well be headed right back to Cantonica to drop you back off at the Canto Bight Casino!

The three of you eat dinner in silence.

Din says not one word to you and you don't try and strike up the conversations like you used to. Things feel so different now, like the two of you are complete strangers all over again.

Grogu has changed in ways that are hard to describe. He's still a baby in your eyes even though he's older than you and Din.

The two of you play together on the floor while Din or maybe you should call him Mando again, since you barely know this man after two whole years, does something in the cockpit.

Grogu warbles and you watch all the new, fun things he can do with the Force that aren’t moving you unwillingly. It's the first real fun the two of you are able to have since being dropped off at the temple. You missed being able to play with him. You still snuggle him at the protests of Luke and Ahsoka-- how could you not when he climbs into your lap and cuddles into your arms.

Like he knew you couldn’t resist. 

Grogu can put himself to sleep now which is incredible, and that means you have time to do whatever you want.

So you’re in your bed with your nice new sheets. They’re soft. Like the ones on the Crest.

It’s dark here, too.

Maker, what in the stars?

The sun shields in this ship are no joke! There's no light at all. If you have to go to the bathroom, it’s just blind wishing that you don’t break you toes, or bump into a wall and potentially crack your skull. 

It feels like you were completely forgotten about in those two years and now, in the dark silence of your shared sleeping quarters you just want to cry...

An emotion!? After two years of strict Jedi code training---

There is a ten thousand degree warmth on your upper arm in the void, and it scares you half out of the bed. Your tops of your feet and knees are on the cool metal of the ships floor, and you're leaning against the side of the bed-frame like you are praying to Maker.

“I was going to see if you were sleeping," Din's rasping sounds-- happy to talk to you?

You're unsure. Nothing else about the way he's spoken to you, or treated you at all makes you think he wants to talk to you.

"That's not how you find out if someone's asleep!" You bark at him angrily.

"You're awake though.” A flat, unimpressed response to your outburst.

Maker, if you had your own helmet with night vision, you’d use all your new fun Jedi fighting tricks on him. You sure would, because who is he!? Who does he think he is!?

After two years he can come back and just throttle you awake in the dark like before? Nope. Not this time. 

“You’re lucky I can’t see you right now.” You say over the pounding heart in your chest. “So lucky-- What do you care if I'm awake in the night?! Let me sleep!” You’re so cold with him, mirroring him perfectly minus the emotion. “I’m tired.” You lie to him. 

In the usual Din fashion, he remains quiet. He still had his hand on your arm, and it's not like you really made an attempt to pull it away because it’s hot like you remember.. Burning you, he's so warm.

Din is also so fucking quiet! Maker! Is he okay?

“Tired?” Din’s voice rasps in the dark. "Then why aren't you sleeping?"

You realize the metal man has no grip on you whatsoever. He was just touching you very, very gently, and you easily could have pulled away at any moment.

So you you tug your arm away and you climb back into bed and face the opposite direction from him. "I was trying to sleep when you come over here-- shaking me in the darkness!"

“You…” Din trails off in the dark. “Still don't know the meaning of shake?” He questions you like a dumb idiot. 

"Get away from me!" You almost shout it. "Just leave me alone!" You humph, and pull the sheets over your shoulder.

"Are you... mad at me?"

“Are you kidding me!?” You whisper at him. “I don’t know how you could leave me out there for two years, and I get nothing!?” You sit up in your bed now and talk blindly in the dark. “Nothing. No visit. No calls. Nothing.” You cross your arms over your chest. "No gift!"

Din stays silent- which was predicted- so you carry on.

“But you get Grogu a gift, which was very sweet. Very cute armor, he is going to look very cute it in.” You think of the child dressed in the armor and it's kind of amusing and slightly distracting.

“Are you done?” Din’s stupid modulated voice rings out in the dark after a minute of you imagining an armored Grogu.

It's so dark and you still don't really know where he is, so with your accusing index finger pointing in the direction he could be in, you almost shout, “No! I’m not done!”

You are in fact, not done.

“They treated me like I had the Force in me. Do you know how hard that is when you don’t have the fucking force in you!?” You exclaim in exasperation, still pointing at him.

You start to speak again into the blinding darkness when a warm hand very gingerly moves your accusatory pointing finger eight inches to your right. 

“I figured I should at least be getting pointed at, if you’re going scold me,” Din rasps.

You die inside and wonder how dumb you look in the dark. “Why did you even bring me back? Hm? Why not just send me right back to the casino? Or is that where we’re going next? Gonna just drop me off? You even gonna land first or just let me duck and roll?” You huff, officially done with your rant. 

“Are you don-” Din starts, but you cut him off. 

“Yes!" You snap at him, and then you huff one more time for good measure. You're so angry with him.

So much for all your Jedi no emotion training. 

“I have a gift for you.” Din says flatly through the modulator. 

Oh.

“Well it’s so dark in here, so how would I know that?” You snip at him, not sure you’re fully ready to forgive him. You roll your eyes now. 

“Would you still like it? Or are you too upset with me?” Din’s modulated rasp asks you, sounding annoyed.

Why does he have a right to be annoyed? He could have given you that gift the minute you step foot of that return ship that brought you back to him.

Why wait until the darkness!? Why!?

“Yes, I would.” You hold your cupped hand out into the dark and feel something cold and hard fall into it. “It would be nice if I could –” 

The brightest beam of light you’ve ever encountered shines directly into your eyes. It’s blinding.

You jump again, out of bed because what the fuck is that!?

Is this an attack!?

What even is that light? Where is it coming from?

Thankfully, you wrapped your hand around the thing Din dropped into your hand so you didn't fling it into the abyss to never be seen again before you ever even got to look at it!

“Why are you on the floor?” Din asks, as you hold your free hand to your chest. You blink up at him, having to shield your eyes. 

“Are you the light right now!?” You question him squinting your eyes in its brightness. "Are you the one blinding me!?"

“Yes." Din dims the light tremendously somehow from within his helmet and now, it’s easier on the eyes. Like a candle flame. "Was it to bright?"

“It was too bright! I don’t think I’ll ever see again.” You snip softly, resting on the floor and putting your elbows on the bed. 

You inspect the small pink crystal in your hand. It takes you a couple seconds to realize what it is.

“Is this a kyber crystal?” You look up at Din who is knelt down on the other side of your bed.

He nods in the now pale light that's much easier on the eyes. “I got it on my travels. I thought that if you knew how to use a lightsaber, I’d get one for you. Put this crystal in it.” 

Maker. What is happening? 

“You thought of me?” You didn’t mean to say it. Part of you is still mad. 

“Everyday .” Din’s awe and amazement voice is back. “Di- Did you not think about me?” Just as quickly as that sweet familiar tone had shown up, it's gone just as fast. Din can' believe that you didn't think of him during your time apart.

“I did.” You say quietly. “I thought you had forgotten me. Without the visits or calls or gift.” You do feel silly now because this really is a sweet gift.

The sweetest gift. More sweet than the notebook and the credits and anything else he's ever given you. The small pink crystal in your hand means so much to you. The fact that he got it for you, was thinking about you while you were gone. The fact that the meaning behind the gift is so big. You own lightsaber if you wanted one. Din would get one for you. Said it himself. Your heart is racing in your chest.

“Never . I’ve been waiting to see you. Been thinking of you. Looking at your doodles every night.” He turns the light off and takes the crystal from your still outstretched hand. 

“Hey! That’s mine.” You reach for it but he leaves you kneeling next to your bed like you are praying to Maker in the dark again.

“I’m going to give it back.” Din raps . “Do you want to get back in bed or are you content on the floor?” 

You’re blinking into the dark. Wondering how dumb you look now on the floor blinking into the void. You scramble up without assistance and crawl into bed, facing the same direction as before. Away from Din. 

Secretly, you’re hoping he’s sans beskar and crawls into bed beside you and lets you hold him like he did the nights before you left. With your arm around his waist, stealing his radiating heat from him while he sleeps. You’d mill kisses softly across his shoulders and you’d listen to him sigh and make sleep sounds in the darkness.

But that doesn’t happen. It’s so quiet. It’s so still for so long. You wonder if he’s crawled in his own bed and is fast asleep. What could this all mean? The gift? The cold welcome back after two years? Everything you did before you left? What did it mean and did you accidentally fall for a potential half man- half droid that’s never going to show you his face? 

The dark is still, so quiet and unmoving. You feel like you’re alone in the room. 

“C-can I touch? Or are you still too upset with me?” Din asks quietly, the rasp of his modulator is gone. His sweet deep voice is right in your ear. It doesn’t startle you because you’ve been waiting to hear him speak for so long. 

“No.” You snap. “You couldn’t come touch me for two years! I would have let you then, any time you came to visit, I would have but you-”

His lips on yours stop you. You almost try and push him off, but Maker. I

t feels so good. His warm, soft lips on yours after all this time. You both open your mouths slightly, and as tentatively as Din touched you for the first time two years ago, his tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth just as slowly.

It’s gone as soon as it appeared. 

“I tried.” He whispers against your open mouth. “I got turned away every time. So many times I tried to see you.” He’s speaking fast, like he’s trying to explain himself to you before you beat him off of you with something hard you’ve found in the dark. “ So many times, little one." 

The words melt over your tongue as he speaks them, almost as if they were your words.

Ahsoka and Luke never told you he came to visit. Not one time. 

“I tried. I never forgot about you. Too perfect. Too beautiful to forget..." ” His bare hands cup your face as you speak. “Never forget you. Everyday I look at your doodles. I look at you, and miss you."

You're breathing in the words he's speaking into your parted lip. He kisses you again softly. You feel the bed shift next to you and he’s crawling beside you.

“Do you dislike me again?”

Maker, Din somehow got warmer. He’s running a fever all the time and his body feels like the embers in the fire pit at the end of the night. 

“Again?” You whisper as he pulls your face down to the pillows with his. 

“You didn’t care for me much before the doodles.” Din kisses your lips again, gently as his hand slips from your cheek. “I didn’t think you’d let me.” You can feel his warm breath on your chin as he speaks. 

“Let you what?” 

“Touch. Watch. The first time.” His real unmodulated voice whispers to you. “I've missed touching. Watching."

A warmth hovers over your middle, you reach for it. Tt’s Din’s hand, hovering above your stomach, under the blankets, but over your clothes. 

“Touch me.” It almost doesn’t come out of your mouth because it’s so dry. But you croak it out and swallow hard as the word leaves your lips because you hope he does. You hope this isn't like the first night all over again where he makes you do it alone.

Din obliges and lets his hand drop, you feel the heat spreading out along your nightgown starting from where his hand rests on your lower stomach. It makes you inhale sharply. It’s such a familiar touch and you missed it so much. 

Din sighs and drags his hands gently and slowly up your stomach, the fabric bunching at his wrist as he does it.

He's lifting your nightgown. 

“Din,” You whisper as his palm cups one of your fleshy tits over the nightgown.

His rough, calloused hands were so gently, touching you so sweetly until your hand rests on his, you make him squeeze you. You make him because you need to know this is real and these soft gentle touches feel like a dream.

Din grips you now. He can feel your desperation in your hand on his. Squeezing and pulling and tugging at your flesh. 

“Fuck.” He moans softly into your shoulder where his head was resting. The fiery goodness from his forehead felt like it was melting you. “Perfect. Beautiful.” He says the word like he doesn’t want to. Like he’s been forcing them back but they’re breaking free from his vocal chords.

You can almost feel his heartbeat. Or maybe it’s yours.

You don’t know. 

It’s just obvious that this is what you want and you need him. Badly. However he’s willing to give himself to you or however he wants to take you, you don’t care. You’ve been waiting and thinking about this for two years. Your body reacts to his touch like you were built for him. Your pussy is leaking and throbbing already and he’s only touched you once. 

There's a new warmth, a wetness to these sensations now. Din’s wrapped his mouth around your clothed nipple and is sucking. Biting gently over the nightgown you have on. It sends shivers down your spine.

Words come flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop them. “I've waited so long for this.” You whimper quietly.

Your hips are rolling against the bed below you because everything just feel so good, everything is just so overwhelmingly pleasurable. Din’s hands and mouth on you, the heat he's passing along through his touch. 

“Touch. I wanna hear you moan.” He murmurs against your breast. He’s still biting and sucking it through the fabric like he’s too impatient to take off the nightgown. He just can’t wait any longer. 

“I need you to touch me.” You whine quietly. “Please.” You’re begging him. “Please, Din, I need to fee-” But he doesn’t make you beg long, his free hand slides between your legs and he sighs loudly against you. 

“”Fuck. Fuck. You're s-so wet. So fucking perfect.” Din bites your nipple a little harder now, but then he pulls way. “Let me lick. P-Please. I just wanted to watch but now I need to taste you.” He’s moving down between your legs as he talks to you. Then he stops.

“Okay. Okay. Please. Do it, please.” You’re already spreading your legs but he’s getting off the bed again. “Nononononono.” You whine, reaching blindly for him in the dark. You’re on the verge of tears. “Please don’t leave me again.” 

It’s so quiet. It’s like time stopped. 

“Din?” You whisper. “Did you leave?” 

“Where would I go?” He answers but he’s further away from you now. "It's my ship."

“Well you’re obviously not here– where you were!” You exclaim quietly. You hear him chuckle in the dark. 

“Come to my bed. I want to do something. New.” 

Oh Maker what could that mean? A new stun gun? Some weird thing he found in his travels?

Does he want to make you the lightsaber and put the focus crystal inside you? That’s where you draw the line.

“What does that mean?” You ask nervously, clutching the sheets to your chest as you stare into the void. “New?” 

“Come here. You said I could lick, yes? Let me.” Din’s voice in the dark makes you drop the blankets your clutching and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. “Come, little one. Let me lick you. Let me taste you.” His voice guides you to him and you start to crawl into his bed but he stops you. “Leg.” He says into the dark.

“Leg?” You ask, confused. Din reaches for you in the dark and taps your upper thigh. 

“Leg.” He says like he’s teaching you body parts. “Swing it up here over my head.” 

“What!?” You exclaim. “You want me to do what?!” 

“I want you to sit on my face.” Din’s smiling in the dark and you can hear it in his voice. 

“And you’re going to taste me like that?” You’re exasperated. You’ve never even heard of this. What does that mean, sit on his face. “I’m going to smother you!” 

“Then I’ll die a happy man. Get up here.” Now he’s impatient. Din’s been waiting for this just as long as you have.

You swing one leg over his head and straddle him, pressing both hands to the wall in front of you. The ship's metal is so cold on your clammy hands. You can feel him breathing against your inner thighs as you sit on your knees above him.

“ This is perfect.” Din whispers. You can only whimper quietly because you’re so nervous, you feel so exposed up here. “You want me to lick…” He leans up and gives the very top of your slit a quick teasing lick. “Here? Yes?” 

Your knees buckle because Din’s tongue is just as soft and just as warm as you remember and you do want him to lick there. You can’t find words for how badly you want him. All you can do is let out a breathy sound of consent. 

“Beautiful.” Din wraps his hands under your thighs and pulls you down onto his mouth, his tongue is ready. Eager. Waiting for you to be on him, for him to be inside your folds. “Just as I remember.” He whispers into your pussy, tasting that flavor he memorized before you left and thought of it often. “I touched myself, thinking of you. To your doodles. To your flavor.” Din takes the flat of his tongue and licks you from your opening all the way to your clit, slowly, he presses up against you so you feel him. 

He wants you to know he missed you. 

“ Maker, yes. ” It’s moaned softly as Din presses the flat of his tongue against your slit and lets you ride his mouth. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. Why were you so scared? Being on top of him, this way, you were in control up here. “ Oh Din, yes.” You’re not holding back tonight. 

You’ve been waiting to do this. Dreaming about it at night and waking up in the morning having to give yourself some sort of pleasure. You slide one hand down into his thick, coarse hair, just enjoying the feeling of it between your fingers again. You hear Din moan from between your legs and his tongue moves against you faster. 

Your fingers tighten in Din’s hair as he holds you around the legs, you’re pinned down onto him. His tongue is lapping and exploring your folds. Licking at all the spots he remembers make you squirm. He memorized every inch of you before he left and he’s been thinking about you, keeping it fresh in his head for this moment so he can make you whimper and quiver like he used to.

Din is panting underneath you, he’s working for what you’re about to give him. His tongue was drifting between those big lazy circles that had you whimpering and begging him for more and tight fast spinning around your clit. That’s when his hands found your hips and started to move you on his face, his tongue flat, stroking your clit with each movement of your hips. 

“Please don’t stop.” Pushing yourself off the wall you’ve been leaning against, you hover over him now, rocking your hips on your own. You found a rhythm with Din’s help. He holds your hips tighter now–not messing with the rocking of your hips–feeling you roll yourself along his mouth. As he does that he pulls you down harder on his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair and you grip it tightly now in both fists and grind down against his flat, strong muscle. “ Oh fuck yes . Din, I’m so close.” You’re whimpering for him.

Din moans loudly from underneath you, his hands now moving to your ass. He gropes and spreads your cheeks. 

“M-moan again.” You stutter, your hips grinding harder and faster. The vibrations from Din’s moans will be enough. 

Din obliges happily and moans loudly again, over and over as your head falls back, hips never stopping their rocking motion on his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck–ing yes. Din, oh Maker!” You cry out. You don’t care if The Razor Crest is gone, you have those memories inside your head forever. You don’t have to hold back nearly as much here. You can let him know how fucking good he makes you feel. Your body is quivering as you grind against him. You can feel the prickles of his facial hair on your inner thighs and lips as you ride him.

Being on Din’s face like this was heaven. You can hear him noisily licking and sucking at the new wave of juices that are dripping from your entrance. As the warm ball of fiery goodness spreads through you, you start to shudder and tremble on top of him, his tongue never stops moving against your clit and then dipping inside of your hole to taste you as you leak out. Din laps at you until there’s nothing left. Sucking your lips into his mouth at the end to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He leaves you trembling above him for so long he has to tap your thigh again for you to swing It over his head. 

"Sorry." You pant. "That was good. I'd do that again." You go to stand off his bed and you feel him wrap his arms around your waist. 

"Don't go. Share the bed." He whispers up to you. "I waited for so long." 

"I waited too!" You exclaim as all of your anger and fear of being forgotten about returns. "I waited for just as long as you did! You sure didn't act like you missed me or waited for me. Not until the lights went off at least." You're storming to your own bed now. You move quickly, not wanting him to hear or see the tears in your eyes.

You've been keeping this in for a long time. Letting it bottle up until you can't keep it in anymore. And the fact that he confessed all those nice things just to be able to touch you.

Din doesn't say anything in the dark, letting you try and find you way back in the void. It makes you sadder that he isn't trying to comfort you. The tears come, quietly, thank Maker, as you get into your own bed and wrap yourself in the covers. It isn't until you let out a little weeping sound that you hear him shuffle and then your bed shifts under his weight. Din's pressing himself into you gently, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

"If you had reached for me, you could have felt my heart from under my beskar." He whispers in your ear. "I did miss you. I did wait for you." A small kiss along your jaw, "You didn't seem like you were happy to see me today." He sounds disappointed. "I thought you had forgotten about me. Maybe someone with a face and who didn't leave made you forget about me." Another small kiss in the same place. "I sat in the dark for so long, wondering if you were thinking of me. I had to come find out. I did't mean to scare you. Don't cry, little one. Please?" He's kissing your face gently. 

"I don't think anyone could ever make me forget about you." You whisper into the void.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I'm still so uncomfortable tagging people in my stories, so like I said, please tell me to fuck off if you want me to stop. My feelings won't be hurt (yes they will), and it's completely fine (I'm a big girl and can handle it).

[mandoloriancookie]

Touch: Part 4

Summary: Din shows you what special thing he's been wanting to do with you.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/tags: SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT. THE MANDALORIAN & THE BOOK OF BOBA FETT. eventual angst, slow burn, graphic depictions of wounds and violence, eventual non-con, eventual therapy speak, Grogu, Mando takes off his helmet, so much shit happens in this story.

chapter warnings: object insertion (v&a), graphic depictions of blood and guts (not sexual), and some fluff at the end.

a/n: This was very much inspired by the legendary Rough Day. It's such an incredible story and so well written. Don't have as high hopes for this, it's mostly just me being horny for Din Djarin.

a/n pt2: So, hello-- it's me, Beth. I have a couple things to say- This is when the reader and The Mandalorian's story starts. Before this chapter, the first three had been one-shots written with no intention of turning it into a story. But I did, so.... here it is. I hope you all like it.

unbeta'd, probably not proof-read because of my ADHD. still unbeta'ed, not as poorly proofread and changed slightly from ao3.

SORRY EVERYBODY ELSE

Masterlist

<- Previous

"That cannot be safe."

You are staring where you think Din is standing with your mouth hanging open, jaw almost touching your chest. He has just gotten done explaining to you what he wants to do to you.

His Maker forsaken helmet is back on now and the lights are still off.

He needs to see what he’s doing for this. 

“It will be safe, I promise.” He chuckles quietly, as if that is supposed to be reassuring in a moment of vulnerability like this. “Are you ever not safe with me?” He asks that last part like his helmet might have a special mood sensor in there that tells him exactly what you're feeling.

You’re hesitant because this was unusual, even for Din.

"This could potentially be the first time," you chuckle nervously as you press your cheek to the cool metal.

If you're being honest— with Maker and yourself… what Din wants to do to you is making your apex tingle again.

Despite the nerves flowing through ever fiber of your body, you're sinking to your knees in the void. The moment your chest touches the floor of the Razor Crest for the second time tonight, you're actually thankful for the darkness. Doing something like this feels far less naughty in the dark.

"I don't want to get vaporized."

"Little one," Din runs one of his hands— which is always as hot as the sun, always— up the line of your spine slowly to comfort you. "I won't let anything bad happen to you," he rasps from behind his helmet. "I took the charge out already, besides… that happens on the other end."

The Amban rifle is long, about as long as you are tall. The non-business end is where the shoulder crook is. It’s shaped in a dramatic arch. One end is slightly longer than the other. Both ends of the arch are dull and rounded. Perfect for your shoulder to rest in when you aim.

It’s smooth and cold as Din traces it along your folds.

It surprisingly fits perfectly there as well.

"Looks so tight," his rasp is quiet, almost like he's ashamed to admit it. The tip of one of the horns is pushing against your entrance now, sliding in further and further— so slowly. "Need to see you filled."

His words make you shiver. It was clear that Din thought about you while he wasn't here… he had taken your notebook so that he could think about you all he wanted. You just never really thought about what he been imagining while looking at the pictures you had drawn of yourself in that notebook.

“It feels good?” Even through the modulator, you can hear his excitement— but it's intermingled with concern for your comfort, and that makes you melt against the hard metal of the ships floor.

You let Din know it does feel good with a content hum as he pushes the Abman's horn further into you.

It's been so long since anything has been inside you besides your own fingers and very, very recently Din's thick, long, ten billion degree digits. So long in fact, you almost forgot how delicious the stretch of something inside you feels.

You sigh happily again as the smooth, polished wood slides further into your soaked entrance. “It does feel good.” A moan as it glides against that utterly sweet spot inside you. “So good.” 

Din respires loudly as he watches the second horn of the Amban inch closer to your untouched hole. "You stretch so nicely, little one," he murmurs from under his helmet.

Sweat starts to bead across your brow as Din starts to work the first horn in and out of your wetness at the absolute perfect pace. It's not to slow, not to fast— he's allowing you to adjust while still giving you friction. To you, right now on the floor, the thrusts feel tender and sweet.

Loving, almost.

Your hips instinctively start to rock back to meet his thrusts, needing more, wanting it deeper inside of you, but that's when the second horn notches at your second hole. It hasn't penetrated you yet, but the pressure of it at your opening has you feeling rather intimidated.

Din pulls the Amban away from you. There is a moment of pause, nothing happens, and then you feel his tongue massaging against your tightest hole.

"Oh my Maker," you sigh loudly as he pushes past the ring of muscle to open and loosen you up for what he wants to see so badly.

"…would do this forever…" he murmurs from between your supple cheeks. The vibrations from his voice make you shiver and you have to bite back a smile at the sound of him unmodulated.

You wonder where the helmet is— did he take it completely off or is he just wearing it on the crown of his skull?

It doesn't really matter, you don't even really care as he pushes his tongue back inside of you. His breathless panting as he pushes two fingers into your cunt simultaneously and makes you arch your back down towards the floor, pushing your ass back against him.

"So good. S-so good," he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times before he pulls away and loudly spits against your now loosened hole.

"Maker," you sigh at the obscene noise and the withdrawing of his fingers.

Din replaces the horns of the shoulder crook and slowly begins to work the first one in and out as the second tip taps your now other wet and ready hole. Slowly, he starts to push forward and you whimper at this new stretch. A different kind of feeling, it feels ludicrous. Out of place.

“Din…”

The word escapes your lips, and your fists clench in response. Through gritted teeth, you utter one long Maker as he removes the Amban from your body and rests a comforting hand on your back.

“It hurts? Are you okay?” He’s concerned. Sounding almost apologetic.

“No. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just different, go slower.” You don’t want to stop. It did feel good.

“Touch yourself while I do this.” His modulated whispers into your ear make you push back against the Amban again and it presses against your asshole again. “Touch...like the first night, please. I want to see it.”

The fact that Din remembers, and thinks about that first night the way you do… it makes your heart start to beat faster against the floor of the ship.

“Okay.” You breathe, one hand reaching for your clit. Your fingers find it and desperately start to circle and swirl around the wet mess between your legs. 

“Yes. Just like that, little one.” Din trails one finger down your spine gently, watching as you begin to play with yourself. “Fuck. You’re always so ready… and wet…” He admires you while his thrusts forward with Amban a little more aggressively now.

“You want to make yourself come while I put it in?” He whispers, dragging of his fingers back up your spine.

You nod silently.

“Was that a yes?” He’s wanting to hear you say it.

“Yes, Din, please…” You’re whining quietly as your fingers cease to stop touching your aching clit.

With more force behind his movements as his traveling hand grips one of your ass cheeks and pulls you apart so he can watch. The second horn presses against your tight hole with each thrust, he’s careful not to enter until you’re ready.

“You take it so well....” It’s a modulated whisper. "So wet--"

“Only for you,” sigh happily, feeling silly for saying it but in the moment, you don't what he thinks.

It’s true. You’ve never gotten this excited for anyone else.

Din gasps softly, you almost don’t hear it over the sounds of your fingers in your slick and the horn pushing into you over and over. “S-Say that again, p-please…”

“Only for you, Din…” You murmur with your eyes closed. Your touching had been getting you ready, your fingers had been spinning around your clit quickly— release was so close.

The thick wood horn inside you plus your fingers on your throbbing clit, and now this new sensation pressed against a new hole that’s never been explored before tonight, are all coiling something deep inside your lower belly.  

“Gonna…gonna come…” You strain the whimpers out, your body trembling right on the precipice of bliss.

Din presses his groin against the outside of your thigh and begins to move in a steady rhythm. You feel him pushing harder and faster, rubbing against you as he picks up speed.

"Oh! Oh!” You cry out, pushing your hips back as the coil inside of you snaps. “Diiiin!”

He pushes the Amban forward gently and you feel it enter you from behind. It’s a fiery pain, dulled tremendously by the bliss coming from between your legs, but it’s still pain.

A sharp intake of breath through your teeth is quickly followed by a pleasurable tightening of your inner walls around the smooth wooden horn inside. The feeling draws another loud moan from you.

Din continues to push and pull the shoulder crook in and out of you while you ride out your orgasm. You’re shoving your self back against the Amban now, wanting more, needing it deeper in your cunt while you come on it. The horn in your tighter hole stretches you wider, a new sensation, not pain or pleasure but a feeling of being completely full. You shudder on the floor of The Crest. 

“You’re s-so good,” Din sounds like he’s in awe once again. You amaze him. “Did you like that?” He asks, his modulator voice is gone and now he’s kissing your spine. When he removes the Amban from inside you, you whine at the empty feeling. The gaping feeling.

“Yes.” You pant on the floor. “So good, Din… So good.” You collapse, body fully going flat against the floor.

Din lays down beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against him tightly.

There is a moment of silence while he listens to you catch your breath while one of his strong, calloused fingers circle around your belly button slowly.

“I just remembered how you clean.” He whispers into your ear. “We should get off the floor.”

For a moment you’re offended, but then you remember how well you cleaned before he started touching you and you chuckle.

“I did better this time,” your hand hesitantly finds his on your stomach. He stretches his fingers wide so you can slide yours between them. “Didn’t you notice how shiny it was?”

“I didn’t notice anything besides how you looked in your beautiful dress,” he murmurs, planting gentle kisses the back of your neck.

There is only one word you have in your vocabulary to describe how you need him to kiss you: desperately. You need to feel his lips on yours, need to feel his tongue swirling against your own. You might want that more than anything else he could offer you- but you won’t tell him that.

“We should get to bed.” You whisper to him instead.

Din doesn’t say anything for a moment, he just holds you close to him with the bridge of his nose against the back of your skull. Finally, and reluctantly, he lets you go but not for long. He’s on his feet before you can even sit up, and he’s got his hands under your arms, lifting you off the ground.

You’re suspended in midair for one second before he gently sets you back down on your feet.

“Do you need help walking?” He asks as you hold your hands out in front of you, feeling for obstacles in the dark. 

“Do you not need help?” You’re snippy, stalled in the dark waiting for his response.

He’s quiet for a long time. When he does speak, it startles you. “It’s my ship…” He sounds offended that you’d even ask him such a question. 

“Fine…” You grumble as he slips his hand into yours and takes the lead.

“Here’s the ladder…” he places your hand on one of the rungs and then stands behind you. “Go on, little one. I won’t let you fall,” he whispers into your ear as you hesitate to start climbing.

There is no need to do any of this in the dark when Din isn’t here. You keep all the lights on until you’re in bed and then you make it dark. You’ve never had to climb the ladder in the void.

Surprisingly enough, you make it up to the second level with no issues. Din follows close behind and once he’s beside you, his hand is in yours again, leading you to the sleeping quarters.

You’re not shocked when he puts you into his bed and crawls behind you. 

“What happens in the morning? Hm?” You whisper curiously, turning around to face him. “Because I almost broke my nose last time… I’m not doing that again.” 

Din chuckles, slipping one hand under your cheek, the other slides to your waist, his lips touch your chin softly. “I’m always up before you.” Then he presses his lips to yours, just as lightly.

Din’s lips are soft and warm— perfect. He’s perfect. He smells faintly of oil from the engine and sweat from being stuck under his helmet all the time.

To you, right now, he smells like what a home would feel like.

“Close your pretty eyes, and let me worry, okay?” He asks with his lips still pressed against yours. He kisses you again quickly before you can really react, and then rolls onto his side. Your chest is pressed against his back and he grabs one of your wrists to drape it over his side, then holds your hand to his stomach. 

How are you supposed to sleep after that?

What?!

That was your first since long before you even got on this ship! It’s been so long since you shared a kiss with anyone. Ages it felt like!

Your first kiss with Din— and he does it twice and then just rolls over ? Din did this on purpose. You’re sure of it.

The child is what you wake up to— his little green face right in yours.

You’re still in Din’s bed, and the child is touching your lips, pushing them apart with his little clawed fingers so he can get a good look at your teeth. You let him and wonder what he’s looking for.

Then you wonder how the hell he got into the bed with you but as your head turns to inspect your surroundings, Din is standing— fully dressed in his beskar, staring down at you.

“He was fussing.” It’s said flatly. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear him.” He’s turning to walk away. 

“I had a long night!” You call out to him as he leaves the room. 

The child is full of energy. He wants to play. Right now. 

But you’re naked under these sheets. 

You set the child on the floor and wrap yourself up in the sheets and tuck them under your arms.

The clothes you bought yesterday aren’t where you put them when you got back from the market… and then you remember the fashion show you put on for him last night. The smirk on your face is hard to hide as you make your way into the lower level of the ship.

Once you’re down there, you turn the corner and find Din with your white dress in his hands. He’s massaging the fabric between his gloved thumb and forefinger carefully as if he can feel it through the yellow leather. He’s just staring down into the mess of crumbled, white linen in his grasp.

“I don’t know if I wanna know— I don’t think I do— but can I have those back, please?” You extend your arm for the clothing he’s holding. He turns to look at you.

“Last night…” Din walks to you slowly. “You were so beautiful in this,” he holds the dress out to you as he continues to speak. “I could look at you all the time.” He’s in front of you now, looking down at you with the dress in his hands. “Clothes. No clothes.”

“The kids awake,” you smirk up at him as you take the dress out of his hands. “Get your helmet on straight.”

“I have to leave,” He says as you're turning to walk away. “Tonight.”

“For how long?” You ask, chasing him down the hallway towards the ladder that leads up to the first floor.

“I’m unsure… possibly a couple days… maybe longer. A week—”

That’s the longest he’s been gone since you’ve been here. You turn your head over your shoulder. “A week!?”

Suddenly, Din’s sweet kisses from last night don’t seem so very sweet anymore. The feel dirty and almost like a ploy to keep you from complaining about this.

His helmet nods silently.

“Is where we’re going nice?” You ask curiously. If it is nice… then you might not care. You see him shake his head and groan in frustration. “Why!? Why do you cart the child and I around out here instead of finding us a plac-”

Din presses a gloved finger to your lips to quiet you.

“So I can keep both of you safe. You’re not safe with so many planets and stars between us.” He explains gently, trying to not upset you further. “I want you close by.” 

Even though your heart is bursting in your chest because Din wants to keep you safe, wants you close— something about him choosing to kiss you last night, knowing he was leaving for so long today makes you angry. You say nothing in response to him.

“I know you’re upset. I’m sorry.” Din apologizes.

“It’s just part of the job description.” You say coldly, turning your head to the side so you don’t have to stare back at your reflection in his helemt.

It’s hard to not be upset after the night you just shared together, the touching, the kisses, the sleeping in his bed with him all night? How could you not feel some sort of emotion after that?

Din grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning your head to look at him. “You want more money? For the job ?” With his free hand, he reaches behind his cape and pulls a fistful of credits out and pushes them into your chest forcefully. “Take them then,” he hisses through the modulator. Din pushes your chin as he pulls his hand away, and then he turns to leave. The credits scatter to the floor before you have time to catch them.

The child hears them falling noisily, and comes running to start grabbing them so he can begin putting them into his mouth. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no...” You whimper through the tears pricking at your eyes, trying to get all the credits back from him. You have to stick your whole hand in his mouth to get the last one back.

With all the credits in your hands and tears in your eyes, you throw them into the hallway Din just walked down. They scatter across the floor as you scoop the child up in your arms and make your way to the second level.

Once you’re in the sleeping quarters again and the child is preoccupied with one of his new toys, you allow yourself to come undone.

Din went from calling you beautiful one moment and then next, he’s shoving credits at you like you get paid to get fucked and then treated badly. What did you do to deserve that?

Tears start to roll down your cheeks, and the child freezes seeing you in distress. He’s never seen you cry. Not one time. He watches you, his head tilting side to side slowly as you press the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

He makes a quiet cooing noise at you but you don’t look. You can’t. There are too many tears and you feel so embarrassed for being so enamored with Din lately. He’s your boss. That’s it.

This was never going to happen again. You’ll sleep on the mat forever and never even look at his bed again. You might even move to a different part of the ship. You and the child.

You feel little hands on your leg and you finally look. The child is standing beside you, his big eyes are wide and he looks concerned for you, his little fingers are gripping your leg softly. 

The child makes you cry harder, because what if Din kicks you off after this?

What if he tells you that this isn’t working and you need to go back to the casino? You’d be devastated. This child is your world now. Din had slowly started to become a part of your everything— but not anymore!

Fuck Din!

As you change into fresh clothes and wipe away the stubborn tears that refuse to stop, you carefully make the bed with clean sheets. You tidy up the ship and wash any dishes or toys that need it. The baby watches you with concern as you move around the room, struggling to control your emotions. He sticks close to you as you pace back and forth, trying to find something - anything - to occupy your mind. All of your sewing supplies are in the same room as Din, but you can't bring yourself to go there right now.

You break out your notebook and lay on the floor with the child. You give him a page and your old charcoal. You show him how to doodle. You draw him. He sees it and points to himself. You nod and clap for him. Then you draw yourself. He points to the picture of you and then touches your nose. It makes you cry again. 

All day. 

You’re in that room all day spontaneously crying, when finally, the door opens and Din walks past the two of you with no acknowledgement. You stand up, grabbing the child and leave into the room he just walked out of. 

You two sit on the floor again and you show him how you sew. You hold up the almost finished robe to him, seeing if it’ll fit. 

“You’re gonna be the most well dressed green baby on the ship.” You tell him. He coos and warbles up to you, his fingers touching the fabric of his new robe. “Do you like it?” You ask but he doesn’t respond as usual. He’s a baby.

“We should talk,” Din’s modulated voice makes you jump. He’s standing in the doorway watching you two. 

“‘Kay.” You say curtly, going back to your sewing. You don’t look at him. 

“You’re upset?” He asks softly.

You turn your head and blink at him in disbelief.

“I already gave you more cre-” He starts to say, but sees you’re trying to hold back tears. 

“I don’t want your money.” The words come out quickly before you can cry. You strain back the sob forming in your throat. “I don’t want more.” You have to look away, you don’t want him to see you cry. “Just leave me alone, please.” 

The child touches your arm comfortingly and warbles quietly at you. 

“If you’re so unhappy here, I can take you back to Canto Bight.” Din sounds so angry when he speaks from behind the modulator.

All you can do is sob loudly. It’s the only sound coming out of you.

Din is quiet for so long listening to you cry. When he speaks again, his tone is softer and quieter. More kind than before. “Are you unhappy here?”

“No. I love it here,” you weep softly. You do love it here. You blink and tears roll down your cheek again. You attempt to turn your body away from Din but he’s beside you now, kneeling with his hand on your shoulder. 

“I thought you did too…but you are crying,” he says nervously. “Happy girls don’t cry…why are you crying? Please tell me.” 

“You were s-s-s-so mean about th-the credits,” you wail. “I didn’t a-ask for m-more c-credits.” You cannot stop crying no matter how hard you try. “I d-don’t want you t-t-to take m-me back to Can-Canto B-bi-” You can’t even speak it, it makes you cry too hard. 

“You think I’m going to take you back there?” He tries to turn you to face him but you turn the other way, further away from him. “I thought you were unhappy. I didn’t think you wanted this anymore. I don’t blame you. I worry about you too much and I don’t let you leave because of it. I’m not always nice.” 

“But I care for you! And the child so much!” You wail. You scoop the child who is trying to crawl into your lap in your arms and hold him close to your chest. “I love him so much and I can’t be away from him.” You sob harder. “He’s all I’ve got now and if you take him from me it’ll kill me.” The child wraps his little arms around your neck as much as he can. Coos and baby warbles fill your ear. 

“I wasn’t-” Din is desperately trying to turn you now, both hands are on your shoulders and he’s spinning you on the smooth surface of the Crest’s floor. “-look at me.” He says it sternly enough that you listen and look up at him with bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks. “I don’t want to take you back to Canto Bight. I don’t. You didn’t see the child when you were at the market. He missed you. Cried for you.”

“You said he had fun!” You wail again. “He cried?” You hold the child closer. 

Din chuckles. 

“I wasn’t telling you that you have to leave.” He explains after a moment of silence. “Do you still want to stay? Knowing what happens, knowing that I leave. I have to. Do you still want to be here?” 

You stare up at him for a long time. You do. You’re still sad though. At a loss for words.

“You were so cold to me. Then you called it ‘part of the job description’ so I assumed you wanted more credits. More compensation for what you do. I got mad because I thou-” He cuts himself off. 

“You thought what?” You ask nervously. He stays quiet. 

“It’s nothing. I thought you wanted more. I tried to give you what I thought you wanted.” He sighs and takes his hands from your shoulders. You can feel where the heat from his gloved hands held you. 

“What were you going to say?” Your eyes haven’t left his helmet. 

“I have to go now. When I get back we will talk more. Okay?” 

You almost start crying again but he pinches the tip of one gloved finger between his opposite index and thumb and pulls his hand free. He reaches for you with it and wipes the tears off one of your cheeks with his thumb before cupping your face in his palm

“Perfect, beautiful little one.” He rasps softly. “So perfect.” He rubs his thumb along your cheek and wipes the new falling tears. “Don’t cry. Please. Don’t cry. I’ll be back soon and we will talk about this.” You nod quickly. 

“Okay.” You sniffle softly, trying to calm the fear and sadness inside you. ‘Okay.” 

Din rests the top of his visor to your forehead softly. 

“Try and find forgiveness in your heart, for me. Please.” He keeps you there, pressed against his helmet as he speaks to you. “I’ll be thinking of you. Looking at your doodles . Waiting to see you again.” 

Then he pulls away and stands. 

“Are you staying on the floor with the child or do you need assistance getting up?” He asks, extending a hand out to you. You shake your head at him. 

“I’m gonna finish this.” You hold up the almost finished robe with one hand, the other arm is still cradling the child to your chest. He’s resting his head on your shoulder. 

“I’ll be back. Stay safe. I’ll set up the perimeter when I leave. Do not go outside of it. Please.” He rattles off his ‘Din is leaving’ list to you. You hear it every time he goes.

“You be safe. Come back in one piece.” You smile up at him softly. Din looks down at you for a long time before he speaks again.

“Perfect. Beautiful.”

Din does not come back in one piece. Well, all together yes, but he’s hanging on by threads.

In the dead of night, you are jolted awake by the sound of the ship's door opening. It has been ten days since he left, and you've been unable to sleep properly ever since. As you strain your ears, you can hear his boots hitting the ramp with uneven steps, like he's struggling to stay upright.

Jumping out of bed, not needing to turn any lights on because you can hear him banging around in the adjacent room. 

“Din.” You whisper into the darkness of the entryway. “Din, is that you?” You search for the light button on the wall desperately trying to see something. Finally, you find the small button and press it. 

You see Din facing the metal hull of the ship, leaning against it with his arms curled up over his helmet which is pressed tightly to the wall of the Crest. He’s supporting all of his weight on one leg. The other foot hovers inches above the ground.

He’s hurt.

Time feels like it stops as you rush to him. In the short amount of time it takes you to get to him, you manage to stumble over your own feet twice. When you reach him, you put one hand on his shoulder and he flinches under your touch.

“Where?” You ask nervously.

You’ve never seen him like this before. He’s been injured before, sure…but never like this. Never to the point where he can’t speak to you. He points to his leg, inner thigh and you kneel before him, inspecting. It’s a burn or a cut or both, you don’t know. Some of it’s been cauterized already, other parts of it are still bleeding badly. It looks so deep.

“What do I need to do? Tell me?” 

Everything about you feels like a Mimbanese mudslide. It feels like all the hard parts that keep you upright have been stolen from you. Din says nothing as you kneel in front of him helplessly. You can hear small, stifled groans of pain coming from his helmet. 

“I don’t know how to help you.” You whisper powerlessly. It’s like time has stopped and the world fell silent around just the two of you. “Tell me what to do.” You beg him. 

“Shh. Please just be quiet.” He snaps at you in frustration. He’s still got his helmet leaned against the wall.

Instead of being upset you stand, and run to get clean water and a rag. You check to make sure the child is still asleep in his bassinet. When you return he’s sitting on the bench. He’s got his beskar off and he’s leaned against the hull of the ship, still groaning through his modulator. 

“It’s going to hurt and I’m so sorry.” You warn him, taking the clean wet rag and ringing it out into the bowl of water. “Okay? Are you ready?” He isn’t watching, he’s looking up to the ceiling, choking back sobs of pain. 

“Go.” Din chokes out. You move the rag closer to his wound and his hand finds your wrist. He grabs you tightly as you hover over the bleeding mess. “S-so g–gentle. P-please.” They came out sobbed and choked on soft whispers. 

With the most feather and gentle touch you can, you start to clean it, and once the rag is covered in blood you realize you don’t have another bowl of water to rinse in. 

“I’ll be right bac--” You start but Din grips your wrist tighter to the point where it starts to hurt. “I need more water.” You explain quickly, not upset he’s holding you tightly. “I’m coming right back. I promise.” His fingers loosen on you. “I promise.”

With more speed you’ve ever used in your life you grab another bowl and more water and rush back to him. He hasn’t moved. His good leg is shaking, like he’s shivering.

“I’m back. See?” You look up at him and rinse the rag in the new bowl and watch all the dirt and blood and muck float and twirl in the water. “I came right back. Just like I said, I’m here.” You try and comfort him as you go back to cleaning him carefully. “I’m right here. Just breathe and think about us and those nights. It’ll be okay.”

Desperate to help him find some comfort in this you start rattling off whatever nice things come to your head. Nervously babbling because you can’t hold it in. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back so we can share the bed again, and I’ll hold you like I did before you left.” You're fighting back tears of fear and frustration and worry for Din. You fight them back though because this isn’t the time for tears.

Of course, he says nothing. He’s probably worried about biting right through his tongue with the grunts and groans he’s making under that helmet.

You continue to clean him up until you can start to see things that make your stomach turn inside you. Inside of his muscle and fatty tissue. Blood starts reappearing as you pat it away. You grow more fearful and nervous. 

“You need something to bandage this, where is it?” Din doesn’t answer before you’re looking around. Din points to the opposite wall and you see a small box strapped to the wall. You run to it, rip the straps from around the sides, you stumble again as you turn around and almost fall as you rush back to him. 

Everything about cleaning him and even being near him had to be so slow and so careful that when you weren’t near him you tried to make up for lost time, sometimes moving too fast for your own good. You slide a couple inches as you kneel before you even stop moving. You drop the box on the floor and your nervous fingers fumble with the snaps on the front. 

“Fuckin– c’mon, open!” You can’t get one of the snaps undone. A hidden sharp edge slices your index finger full across the length of the pad from under the rim. “Fuck!” You exclaim, looking and seeing blood pooling on your own finger now. You wipe it off on your pants and more carefully now try the stuck snap. It opens fine with your newfound care. “Fuck you.” You whisper again to the box, your finger hurts, it’s still bleeding.

“Abyssin grafting patch.” Din hisses through clenched teeth. 

Looking for what he’s talking about you find it, and set it on the bench beside him. 

“You need to take off your pants or I can cut them.” You explain, seeing that you won't be able to get the patch on without taking off his pants. The fabric was sliced through with something so hot that it melted some of the fabric to his skin. 

“Cut.” He groans, letting his helmet hit the hull with a loud clunk. You find the medical scissors and carefully peel the melted fabric away from his skin. He hisses loudly and you slow down as much as you can. You try to breathe. You let the scissors do most of the work, they’re sharp and let you cut down Din’s pant leg so you can open the fabric and get more access to him. 

“Okay. I’m gonna put it on now.” You walk him through what you’re doing as you rip open the patch from its wrapper. “You ready?” He’s still not looking down at you but he nods. 

You tenderly press the patch against his leg and watch as it fuses itself to him. You sigh with relief. He’s safe. He’s here. You fall back onto your buttocks and let your legs stretch out in front of you.

“You’re bleeding.” Din sighs when he finally takes his head away from the wall. “Why’re you bleeding?” He’s panting, pointing now to your finger. You look and there is a small circle of blood on the floor where your finger is resting. 

“I cut myself on the stupid fucking box.” You grumble, reaching for it. You grab a wipe and a small bandage. You clean yourself up and root around for what else could be in there. “Do you want the pills or the gas?” You ask, holding up a small bottle filled with capsules and a container with a mouth and nose mask attached to it. 

“Do you need either?” He asks seriously. You look at him with confusion. 

“I don’t do drugs, Din, what are you talking about?” 

“Your finger.” He points again. He’s gotta be delirious. 

“It’s just a cut, I’m fine. You’re missing some of your– the gas. You need the gas.” You decide for him. You put the canister under your arm and stand. “Can you walk?” He nods and goes to stand. You put one of his arms around your neck and shoulders, letting him put some of his weight on you. 

The two of you slowly make your way into the sleeping quarters. He’s part limping, part hopping on one foot. 

“What happened?” You whisper now within earshot of the child who surprisingly didn’t wake up for any of that. You don’t know what you would have done had the child awoken while you were panicking. 

“Fight.” He groaned quietly as he sat down on the edge of the bed. You hand him the canister. 

“I’m going to sleep in the other room tonight with the child.” He tilts his helmet up to you and starts to shake his head. “Yes. We are. You need to rest and you’re going to be knocked out with the gas. I don’t want to take any risks of you not waking up before me.” You lean forward and press your forehead to the top of his face visor. Din wraps one hand around the back of your neck. 

“I missed you.” He rasps softly. You close your eyes and keep your forehead pressed to his helmet. 

“I missed you too. So much.” He brings the other hand to your cheek and holds you to him. 

“I should sleep-” He pulls away from you and tries to stand. “-in the other room.” You put both hands on his shoulders and gently force him to sit back down. 

“You are not moving. Please. Use the gas and sleep. You can sleep in the other room tomorrow night, okay?” You tease him gently. 

“You’ll stay here tomorrow?” He asks, tilting his head to the side again. You nod. 

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for it.” You smile down at him. “But tonight you need to sleep. As long as you can. No worry of anyone seeing you. We’ll be okay,” You motion towards the baby's bassinet. “I’ll see you whenever you decide to wake up. Okay?” 

He nods up at you. You press your forehead to his helmet again and sigh. 

“Glad you’re back.” You whisper before you turn and push the baby’s bassinet into the other room. You have to come back in and grab your blankets and mat. He watches you, as you walk back and forth. 

As you pass him to leave the room for the last time he reaches for you and his fingers graze your wrist. You stop and look down at him. 

“Perfect. Beautiful.” He rasps quietly. 

You smile at him, taking his hand in yours. You bring his fingers to your lips and kiss each one gently. 

“Sleep.” You whisper to him again. 

Then you leave because he does need his rest. It kills you to leave the room and shut the door because you so badly want to run back to him and hold him while he sleeps and keep him safe but you know you can’t. You know you don’t have the willpower to not look if given the opportunity. Especially if he were to never know. You’re ashamed of it, but you know it to be true. 

Din doesn’t leave the bed for the next two days. You wait on him hand and foot, happily. Bringing him any and everything he could ask for. Laying with him when he wanted, you and the child both. You actually cooked for him. Really cooked. And didn’t even burn yourself. 

That night after the child had been put to sleep, with just the dim overhead light above his bed, you lay next to him and planted well placed kisses across his strong chest. He’s mostly smooth with just the smallest dark hairs speckled around his nipples and across his chest. The hair mostly rests in a faint line from his belly button down to below the waistband of his pants. 

“I think about you all the time.” You whisper between kisses. “You’re on my mind all day long. You’re in my dreams at night.” His arm is behind you, his fingers rubbing up and down on your back. 

“Really?” He asks, tilting his helmet to the side. You nod at him and lay your head on his stomach gently. “Good things I hope?” He rests the flat of his palm on you. Feeling his warmth, you sigh and nod again.

“Very good things.” You smile. 

In moments like this, you hate the helmet. You hate it so much. 

There are other times that you forget he can take it off; when you talk normally or argue but in moments like this, where you speak so gently to each other and the things each of you say sound like things out of a love story read to you as a child of princesses and princes’.

“I’m sorry if I scared you that night.” He whispers, his fingers press into softly. “I didn’t mean to. I would have done it myself. I always do.” His hand goes back to moving up and down on your skin. You listen. “You did a good job though. Really, I’ll have to pay you more credits now.” He tickles along your side gently and you frown. “ Nurses get paid more.” He teases you. 

Giggles escape your mouth as he starts to tickle the frown off your face. 

“Stop, stop. The kid," you whisper, sitting up from his stomach. 

“Beautiful.” He says softly, moving his hand to your cheek, his thumb rubs across your lips gently. You kiss it with each pass of his thumb. “Perfect.” 

“Why do you say those things?” You roll your eyes at him. “I’m not perfect.” It’s said with a hint of sadness, because you know you’ve been having terrible wishes of him losing his helmet or forgetting it and you just seeing him because you have to know. You pang with guilt every time you look at it lately.

Din doesn’t say anything for a long time. He just rubs his thumb across your lips slowly, sometimes pulling your bottom lip down gently and he lets it pop up back against your top lip. You're hypnotized by it. You lean in against his hand. 

“I think about kissing you every day.” He whispers to you. “I love your mouth. Your lips.” 

Your head starts to buzz. Did you hear Din correctly when he just said he loved something about you?

Maker, you must be about to meet right now because this cannot be real. You’re snapped back from your buzzing thoughts when Din speaks again. 

“Does it make you feel nice?” His hand falls from your face, and you almost fall over into him, not realizing how much you had been leaning into his hand. “When I call you those things?”

“Sometimes. Most times.” You whisper honestly. You don’t like lying to Din. 

“Why not every time?” He asks gently, taking one of your hands in his. 

“Because, I’m not. I don’t always want–” You think about how you want to say it, so it doesn’t come out wrong. “I sometimes am selfish with the thoughts I have about you.” He tilts his helmet to the side. 

“You– Ther– I-I.” He has to clear his throat. “You know that th-” He sighs softly in frustration. “You’re the only one. No need to be selfish.” He laughs nervously. 

In love. You thought it was infatuation but you love him. So damn much. Especially right now. Maybe you only love him right now, you didn’t know. You haven’t been in love before. You’ve definitely never felt this way. Not the feeling you feel right now in your heart. But it’s shadowed quickly by the fact that you’re still feeling guilty. 

“That’s not what I meant.” You chuckle at him softly and squeeze his hand. “Sometimes what I want wouldn’t be good or nice to you.” You try to explain nicely in a way that doesn't sound like; take your helmet off. I don’t care what happens. I wanna see. 

He tilts his head to the side again, still not understanding.

“You… want bad things to happen to me?” His modulated inflection makes you chuckle again. 

“No,” You’re still chuckling, shaking your head. Then you stop. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t know if what I wish for would lead to bad things. Or cause you harm. I know it’d make you disappointed. ” You try and get him to remember the conversation about the helmet, right after he bought you a new notebook for taking your old one. 

“Ohh.” He whispers to you, nodding in understanding. 

Then it’s quiet. For so long, Maker, how is this man so quiet for so long?

“I know it’s not nice of me to wish and want those things. I can’t help it though. My mind and heart wonder. It’s never wishing those things upon you either. I just know they might be an effect of what I want. So technically, yes I do want bad things to happen to you.” You talk nervously. Trying to listen to something other than nothingness. You joke to try and lighten the mood. Nothing works. He stays quiet for so long. 

It’s very aware you’ve made him feel something. You’re not sure what it is yet. 

“You can’t be upset with me.” He says finally. His raspy voice scares you in the silence. You jump but he squeezes your hand. “Promise you won’t be upset?” 

Unsure if you can actually make that promise, you nod your head at him and bite your bottom lip nervously. 

“The child is more than just a child.” He starts. Your heart is racing for a new reason now. “It’s so difficult to explain… but I need to take him, and I need you to stay here.” You rip your hand from his and pull it into your lap.

“You’re taking him from me?” You whisper softly in shock. Din shakes his head quickly. 

“I’m going to bring him back… eventual-” You hold your hand up.

“How long?” Your chin starts to tremble. 

“I don’t know. I really don’t. And I’m sorry. If I knew you two were going to get attached like this I would have never asked you to do this.” He tries to explain.

“You’ve known this whole time that you were going to have to take him!?” It’s a strained whisper of disbelief. “Where are you taking him?” 

“He has to learn the way of the Jedi. I’m taking him to Luke Skywalker.”

You gasp audibly. 

“The Luke Skywalker?” You ask again in disbelief. You've heard stories about him since you were a child.

“Yes. He’s going to teach the child how to use the force, how to be stronger.” Din explains. 

“I’m going. I don’t care what you say or if you have to try and tie me to the Crest. I don’t care. I’m going with you this time.” 

Din sighs loudly. 

“And I’m staying with him.”

“No. You cannot do that.” He tries to grab your hand again but you pull it away. 

“Why not? Why can’t I stay? He’s a baby and he needs someone to care for him. Do you think Luke Skywalker is going to care for him the way I do? The way we do?” You’re still whispering but you are exasperatedly trying to prove your point. Your hand is now pointed at the baby’s bassinet. “Is Luke Skywalker going to make sure that all the bugs he eats don’t have stingers on them? Is he going to give him a bath every night before bed and change his robes and do all the things we do for him?” 

You’re upset that you never asked what Din was doing out in the galaxy while you stayed cooped up in the ship. You always thought that he was just a bounty hunter with a green baby and now you find out that this green baby has always had a destination in mind that you didn’t know about? Your heart was breaking in your chest. 

“You can come with me but you cannot stay.” He’s serious and it makes tears burn your eyes. 

“Will you ever get him back? Will I ever see him again?” Something new comes into your head and you’re fighting back the urge to ask about it. 

“I don’t know. It’s a possibility. I need to take him to Luke.” 

“And then what?” You implore nervously. 

“What do you mean?” Din asks, reaching for your hand again. You let him take it and hold it in his. 

“What happens to me?” Tears roll down your cheeks. “Just don’t l-leave me b-back on Canto B-bight. P-please take me an-anywhere else.” You’re drawing in big gulps of air between each sobbed word. Din squeezes your hand tightly.

“I’m n– I’m not leaving you?” He doesn’t understand what you mean, 

“Without the ch-child what g-good am I to you?” You sob softly.

“You hold a place in my heart. I care for you dearly. I’d still pay you to clean, now you know how to nurse me back to health.”

“I’d do it for free.” You whisper through quiet sniffles.  

Din stays quiet for a long time. 

“You want to stay with the child?” He ask, his hand cupping your face again. 

Eyes have never moved so fast in history the way your eyes flick to Din. 

“Is it an option?” You ask softly, leaning into his hand, the burning hot heat of him overtakes the rest of your face and you’re hot, but it’s so good. Because it’s his heat. Din’s body pressed against yours. 

“If it’s what you desire. I’ll make it an option.” Din’s raspy modulated voice says quietly. “I’d do it for you.” 

“Why? What were you going to say the other day before you left?”

Din presses his thumb to your lips gently, quieting you. “Yes or no?” 

All you can do is nod.

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux

I love all your comments and tags and sweet words. Thank you to anyone showing support on this story and me in general.

What does this metal man have in store for you?? What's gonna happen??

[mandoloriancookie]

Chokehold

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You have a crush on Bucky and start to bond with him over coffee in the break room, but there's no way he could possibly feel the same way about you... right?

Word Count: Over 11k (yep!)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, fluff, longing, minor angst, insecurities, feels, sparring, swearing, confessions, getting together, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: I've been sitting on this one (thanks for listening to my back and forth on this @targaryenvampireslayer), and I hope you all enjoy. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @enchanthings-a. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You fell for Bucky Barnes the moment you met. Something dangerous lurked in his steel blue eyes when you introduced yourself to him, but beneath the surface was pain and loneliness that you wanted to take away. Of course, that could've been you projecting and wanting to justify having a crush on a guy who hadn't spoken a word to you.

“Bucky,” was all he said to you, entrancing you with the deep baritone of his voice.

You wished you could say it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but you could count on one hand the number of times he spoke to you in the months that followed. You tried not to take it personally. Maybe he wasn't interested in making new friends since he seemed to stay close to Steve, Sam, and their small group. Or maybe he just didn't see a reason to trust you. Trust likely wasn't easy for him and what reason did he have to open up to you?

“Hi!” you exclaimed when Bucky walked into the break room, your echoing voice making you wince. “Sorry. I didn't mean to greet you at that decibel.”

“It’s okay,” he said, your eyes on him as he strode to the coffee machine with ease.

Bucky wasn't your friend, but it didn't stop you from greeting him whenever you saw him throughout the building, a warm feeling spreading in your chest every time he acknowledged you with a slight head nod or grunt. That had to mean something since he didn't outright ignore you. Not being his friend also didn't keep you from learning little things about him, like how he took his coffee.

Which you decided to surprise him with today.

“Wait! I made you some coffee,” you told him, going to get the mug you had ready for him. “I hope you like it.”

You had a reputation around S.H.I.E.L.D. for being kind to others ever since you joined. You didn't mind that being your signature since you liked putting a bit of kindness out into the world. Besides the tough work you did, your coworkers and teammates fought other battles every day that you knew nothing about. So why not try to lift others up? It costs you nothing.

Being nice, however, had a downside or two. Some thought that kindness was insincere or a weakness. It also didn't get you a lot of dates. Or maybe you didn't pay attention to other guys since you had eyes for one man.

You couldn't get a read on him as you carefully handed it to him. “You made me coffee?” he asked in disbelief, a soft look in his eyes before he blinked it away.

“Yep! With cream and sugar.”

Your smile faltered when he raised an eyebrow and glanced suspiciously at the liquid, like he was trying to assess if something was off with it as you wrung your fingers together. “This is really for me?” he asked.

You couldn't detect any anger or annoyance in his tone, but you wouldn't say he sounded happy either. Which only made your smile fall more. “Yeah. I just, I thought you liked it that way and maybe it would help you kickstart the morning, but I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sorry. And you don't have to drink it. I can just dump it out,” you rambled.

He held the mug a bit closer when you tried to take it away, the steam rising from it as his eyes met yours. It was almost as if the heat melted the ice from his stare. “Not gonna let you dump this out after you went to the trouble of making it for me,” he said, gently blowing on it before he took a sip. You reminded yourself not to whimper when he licked a drop away from his lip, wondering just what else he could do with that tongue. “Especially since you know how I like it.”

You avoided his gaze, hoping he didn't question why you knew since there was a chance you’d blurt out that you like him and that was the last thing you needed. You owed him some sort of explanation though, right? “Well, we’re both here some mornings and I saw you make it that way,” you said, your brain overanalyzing how that sounded. “Not that I'm watching you or anything like that. I… I’m not a creep.”

Bucky stared with unreadable eyes as you sighed and shook your head. Leave it to you to fumble over your words with your crush. Was that why they called it a crush? Because it crushed your hopes and dreams?

In a small voice, you said, “I was just trying to be nice.”

“It’s a very nice gesture, so thanks,” he said, taking another sip. “I appreciate it.”

Doing your best not to preen like a peacock at the renewed sliver of hope, you released the breath you were holding and nodded. At least he didn't question why you cared enough to remember how he took his coffee. “You’re welcome,” you said, wishing you could hang around and chat more, but you had work to do and didn't want to smother him. “I hope you have a good day.”

“You, too,” he said, his eyes on you as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I’ll see you here at the same time tomorrow?”

You came to a stop, your heart thudding as you faced him. “You… want me to make you coffee tomorrow?”

He chuckled before he took another sip. “I meant maybe we would just bump into each other, but I won’t turn down another coffee if you’re offering.”

Of course that was what he meant. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Maybe,” you said, backing up and hitting your elbow against the doorframe.

His brows furrowed as you gave him a strained smile. “You okay?” he asked, your cheeks hot as you rubbed your elbow.

“I’m fine! Enjoy your coffee,” you said, wishing the ground would swallow you up as you bolted from the room.

You were a competent agent. A strong woman on top of your kindness. Why did you have to act like an idiot in front of him? There was no chance you’d see him in the break room after that. It was a shame, too. It was the most he had ever spoken to you.

A higher being either took pity on you or wanted to play a trick on you since you did see Bucky the next day. Not only that, no one else was in the break room. Granted, most people used the main break room since this room was much smaller and on a floor most didn't go to. But how was it possible that you were so lucky?

“Morning, Bucky.”

“Morning.” He hesitated before he took a seat at the same table as you. If you were dreaming, you didn’t want anyone to wake you up. “Sorry. I should've asked…”

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “You're welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks.” His cheek twitched and you wondered if it was a nervous tick or something leftover from the hell he endured. “You know, that coffee yesterday was probably the best I’ve ever had from this place.”

You perked up more. “Really? Wow, thanks. It was nothing,” you smiled, your pulse quickening. Not only was Bucky talking to you again, but he complimented you. It was slightly pathetic how much you enjoyed that. “You did say you wouldn’t turn down another coffee if I offered. Would you like one?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile. He actually smiled at you. It was a good morning. “Thanks.”

“You know, you have a really nice smile,” you complimented him, proud that you said the words without your voice cracking.

“You think so?” He leaned back in his seat and you tried to move around the room like normal as his gaze followed your movements. “I think it scares some more than my glare does.”

You busied yourself with getting his coffee ready, the urge to defend him rising. “There’s nothing scary about your smile and anyone who says otherwise can deal with me.”

“They can deal with you, huh? Awfully kind of you.” His chuckle was so unexpected that you almost dropped the mug. The small talk was unexpected, too, but you weren't about to tell him to stop. “But you’re so sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare at anyone.”

“Oh, I can have resting bitch face when I want to,” you teased before your heart skipped a beat. He looked at you enough that he hadn’t seen you glare at anyone? He thought you were sweet? No, it was probably just an offhand comment. “And I wouldn’t just glare at anyone to defend you. I can fight, too. Words or fists.”

“You’d fight for me, too? You really know how to flatter a man.” His gaze warmed before some of the usual strain reappeared, your heart lurching at the sight. “But you shouldn’t have to fight for me.”

You took a seat across from him again once you set the mug down. “Why not?”

“Because you just shouldn’t.” He shrugged. You recognized that he was closing part of himself off and you weren't about to kick open that door. “If I’m being honest, I’m kind of shocked you’re talking to me.”

“And why’s that?”

He tapped a finger against his mug as he considered his words. “I haven’t really said much to you since we met, but you’ve still been nice to me. Always saying hi and smiling. And now this,” he said, gesturing to the coffee. “Some people have ulterior motives when they do nice things for no reason, but I don't get that feeling with you.”

“There are people who have ulterior motives. You’re right about that,” you agreed. The world could be a dark place with terrible people. “And I guess that's one of the reasons I try to lead with kindness. Putting a bit more optimism and joy into the world might not make it change overnight, but it could make a difference to someone.”

“That makes sense,” he said, his brows pinching. “But why continue to be nice to me when I've been standoffish with you? I don't think I deserve it.”

You let the words sink in. You expected Bucky would be apprehensive of people in general when his autonomy was taken away from him for so long. Trust couldn’t be easy. People had to earn it. What you didn't expect was that he didn't think he deserved your kindness.

“Everyone is different. We all have various personalities and comfort zones. Some people hit it off right away and others don't. Some need a bit more time to open up,” you answered, an earnest smile on your face. “I guess I figured you fell into the latter. Even if you didn't, I wouldn't take it personally or hold it against you. I hope you know that.”

Bucky may have had you in a chokehold, but he didn't owe you a thing.

His shoulders sagged as he let out a breath and you wished you could wrap him up in a hug. “Thanks for being so understanding.” He observed you with a thoughtful gaze. “And you are right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Your kindness made a difference for me yesterday. And you’re really easy to talk to.” He smiled, genuine affection in his eyes as your heart raced. Was it possible to faint while sitting? “I don't usually talk this much anymore.”

“I’m glad it did. You can always talk to me, you know. I’m happy to listen or even give advice if you want it,” you said sincerely. It meant a lot that he took the time to speak to you today, and if it were up to you he’d only have good things in his life going forward. No one deserved that more than him. “And if I’m ever too much for you, don't be afraid to tell me.”

His brows pinched again. “Too much? How?” he asked, his tone not as light as it was a moment ago.

You tensed, gripping your mug as you mulled over past things you heard from others. “Well, I’ve been told before that I’m too perky and too optimistic some days. That my kindness is fake and it can get on people’s nerves,” you explained carefully, swallowing a little. Yeah, you had a reputation for being kind, but some didn’t care for it. “Not that I think you would find me annoying or anything like that. It’s just how it is for some people.”

“So because you choose to be nice instead of acting bitter or rude people don’t like that?” Bucky looked at you with a mix of confusion and anger. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”

You were utterly silent from his reaction. Your heart also fluttered because he seemed upset on your behalf. “So many things, I’m sure,” you teased, hoping to make him smile a little. It was nice when he smiled at you. “But it’s okay. Really. It doesn't change who I am. I'm still going to be me.”

Cheesy, but true. You couldn't control the actions and emotions of others. You knew in your core who you were and you would continue to put that energy out into the world.

His jaw ticked, but he gazed at you with what you guessed was admiration. “Kind and steadfast,” he whispered, making your heart swell all over again. “Listen. If anyone around here does give you a hard time, will you let me know?”

The determination in his eyes took you aback. He went from hardly speaking to you to opening up a bit and now wanting to look out for you. It was nice, to say the least. “That’s okay, Bucky. You said I didn't have to fight for you, so you don't have to for me.”

“I want to.” He reached forward and hovered his hand over yours. Before he touched you though, he pulled away. You longed to know what his touch felt like. “Please?”

You couldn't resist his gaze. “Okay, but only if you let me know if anyone gives you a hard time.”

“Yeah. I got a name for you. Sam Wilson,” he deadpanned.

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth so the sound wouldn’t echo in the room or bother him. “Oh, Sam. I’ll give him a talking to,” you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.

“I made you laugh,” he pointed out softly, almost in disbelief. It was another moment where you wanted to wrap him up in a hug.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Wow,” he whispered, smiling before his face fell. “Fuck. I have to go.” He went to stand, but paused to look at you. “Do you ever go to the main break room?”

“I prefer this one,” you said, lightly tapping the table. “It’s quieter.”

“Me, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, maybe I’ll see you here again tomorrow? Same time?

Warmth spread in your heart at the hope in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

You’d always be there if he asked.

For the next several weeks, seeing Bucky in the small break room became part of your normal morning routine. You made coffee for both of you before you sat together and talked. Some chats were casual, while others went a little deeper. Both ends of the spectrum helped you get to know each other.

He spoke fondly about a cat he found in an alley and took into his home. He named her Alpine and even showed you a photo of her on his phone. It tugged at your heartstrings seeing the ball of white fur curled up in his metal arm. How could it not?

Bucky spoke about Steve and Sam and how they tried to meet up once a week for dinner. They took turns picking the place. It was nice that he had them to lean on. Both men were always friendly toward you, but you noticed they seemed to smile at you even more since you and Bucky started talking. You assumed they were happy that their friend had someone else in his corner.

“Steve is a punk and Sam is worse,” he said once with nothing but affection in his eyes.

He explained that he was in therapy, which he wasn't ashamed of. He had no reason to be. It was a work in progress, building trust not just with the therapist but building trust within himself. He didn't get into specifics regarding what they talked about as it wasn't your business to begin with, though he did casually throw in that he had trouble sleeping some nights. You mentioned that you sometimes wrote your thoughts and feelings down if they got too loud. He told you the next day that he got himself a new notebook to try that out and you had a spring in your step the whole morning.

You didn't talk about anything particularly exciting. You told him that you didn't have a lot of family close by, but loved your job because you got to help people in some capacity. And that you enjoyed reading and watching movies when you stayed at home, but also enjoyed going out with a couple of close friends. Bucky didn't need to know that they loved teasing you about your crush. You mentioned little things, too, like how you needed to go shopping soon for a new sofa and how you hoped to see the new science exhibit at the nearby museum.

The bulk of your conversations took place in the break room, minus occasionally bumping into him around the building which didn't leave much time for chatter. It wasn't a bad thing. It was nice just to talk to him.

And while you didn't think any of the topics you brought up were interesting, Bucky listened intently every time, his eyes on you as he hung on your every word. The attention felt nice. Though you hadn't mustered up the courage to ask him to hang out outside of work, it felt like the two of you were friends because of those mornings together.

Maybe he thought you were friends, too, since he asked one day, “Do you know anything about dating apps?”

You almost spilled his coffee, but quickly recovered and avoided his concerned gaze as you sat down. “Um, no, not much. I haven’t really used them. I haven’t dated in a few months either,” you answered honestly, hoping your tone didn’t sound as bitter as the taste in your mouth. You weren’t embarrassed by your romantic status, but your heart sank just the same. “Are you… Why are you asking? Just out of curiosity.” It wasn’t your business, but it was the first time he brought up anything concerning dating or relationships.

“Sam mentioned setting me up and I brushed that off, so he mentioned using a dating app. I don’t know.” He shrugged as you hung your head.

Something settled within your chest, a heavy feeling that made it difficult to take a steady breath. But you couldn't feel sorry for yourself. Bucky was kind, good looking, and trying to adjust to a sense of normalcy. Of course he’d want to try dating again and what kind of person would you be if you didn't support him?

“Well, I can help you research some apps if you’d like. See if any may be a good fit?”

“Really? You’d do that?” he asked softly.

Your eyes drifted up and you did your best to smile. You couldn't let him see that the mere thought of him dating someone else hurt you. It was pathetic. “Yeah, I would,” you answered. You refused to let your crush on him stop you from helping him if he wanted to meet someone.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds and you almost squirmed in your chair. “But you said you haven't really used them. Why not?”

The unexpected question did make you squirm. You couldn't blurt out that he was one of the reasons. “Well, not to be a downer or anything, but some apps almost seem to set people up for rejection. It just isn’t possible to match every single person up. And there’s also rapid judgment with some based on appearance and it makes it easy to objectify people,” you explained. It was sad, but true. “It does work for some and I’m happy for those people, but I don't know. I’d rather just meet someone and…”

“Connect with them naturally?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” you said, a sad smile touching your lips. “Is it wishful thinking to want something like that?”

“I don’t think it is at all. In fact, that’s a good reason why I probably won’t use an app,” he said. You hoped your sigh of relief wasn’t audible, but the weight lifting from your shoulders felt palpable. “Besides, what would I say if I tried to set up a profile? ‘Hi, I’m a previously brainwashed assassin over 100 years old’?”

“It would be a conversation starter,” you teased, the playful banter bringing a warm smile to his face. “And I know I brought up rapid judgment, but I’m sure one look at your profile picture and people would line out the door just to get your attention,” you smiled and gestured to his face, but his gaze dropped, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. “I’m sorry. I…”

He shook his head, and you caught a hint of a smile that made your heart flutter. “No, it’s… It’s kind of nice to hear that,” he admitted, his gaze drifting away like he was lost in thought. “Dating came easy to me years ago and I don’t think I really appreciated it back then. The thought of trying again is a little scary.”

His voice was soft, almost reflective, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. You felt a swell of empathy for the weight of his past. “Well, whenever your next date happens? I hope they know how lucky they are,” you said, your heart aching to convey how deserving he was of genuine connection.

You just wished that connection was with you.

The warm smile returned to his face as he gazed at you. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Your heart ached in your chest. “Anytime,” you whispered back, quickly standing up before tears pricked your eyes. “I should get to work. Have a good day, okay?”

“Oh. You, too.” He looked like he wanted to stop you, but he hung back. It was all in your head anyway. He didn't want to stop you. Why would he?

You wiped your eyes once you were out of the break room. Rushing away was cowardly and you knew it. It was silly, too.

You wondered if the coffee talks would continue once he found his dream girl. Would he tell you about her? Would bile rise to your throat when he sang their praises or smiled a soft smile not reserved for you? You had to stop thinking about it. You couldn't fall apart just because Bucky wasn't yours, and it was something you’d need to come to terms with when he found someone else.

And maybe tomorrow it wouldn't hurt so much.

Bucky looked a little tired when he joined you the next morning, not saying a word. He still offered you a smile. You didn't speak either, but you gave him a small smile in return.

The night before, you wrestled with the idea of telling him how you felt. All you had to do was get the words out. But the words froze in your throat like ice and you kept quiet, both of you sipping your coffee as the seconds passed by.

You almost wanted to fill the void with more chatter, but it didn’t feel necessary. The silence was oddly comforting. Silence was also safe. He seemed content just to sit there with you, and you were afraid you’d blurt something out that you couldn’t take back.

“Did I do something to upset you yesterday?” he asked suddenly. His gaze was so gentle, yet deep, looking for an answer you couldn't fully give him. “You rushed out without finishing your coffee, and you always finish your coffee, so I had to have done something.”

Your heart breaks from his words. Rushing off made him think it was his fault, and you never wanted to imply that. “No, you didn't upset me,” you replied. That was true. Bucky didn't do anything to upset you. It was your own mind and feelings that did that. “I just had work to do.”

He didn't look convinced, and you couldn't blame him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You put a smile on your face, but you felt terrible. “And I don't think you could do anything to upset me.”

“Then you wouldn't mind sparring with me tomorrow morning by any chance, would you?” he asked.

You inhaled, not expecting him to ask you that. “You want to spar with me?” You discreetly pinched yourself, testing to see if you were dreaming or not. He was asking you to hang out with him outside of the break room. Kind of. “Really?” you added, your heart racing when he nodded.

“Yeah. What do you say?” he asked. Oh, it was a bad idea to spar with Bucky Barnes. Not because you couldn't learn from him, but what the hell were you going to do to reign in your sexual frustration? “Unless you're busy.”

“Yes!” you blurted out quickly, clearing your throat as you tried to regain some of your composure. You swore his cheek twitched like he was trying not to smile. “I mean, no, I'm not busy. I’m totally free and I'd love to spar with you,” you said, praying you sounded normal and not like some lovesick woman with an overgrowing crush.

Which was exactly what you were.

But you weren't about to turn down a chance to spar with him. Who in their right mind would? How many times had you imagined him slamming your body against the mats and pinning you down? Both of you breathing heavily, his face shining from the perspiration. You were thankful the super soldier couldn't read minds because now all you could think about was him tearing your clothes away and spearing you open with his cock and-

“Okay then,” he said, finishing his coffee before he took the mug to the sink. “Second floor gym. Room 2. 6 am.”

“6 am. I’ll be there,” you promised, gazing after him as he walked toward the door. “See you then, Sergeant.”

His entire body went rigid before he looked back at you, the metal fingers of his left arm twitching. Your heart sank, worried that you said something wrong. Would he take back his offer?

You stood up from the table. “Bucky, I-”

An agent walked through the door and bumped Bucky out of the way. At least he tried to. The super soldier didn't budge.

“Excuse me,” Bucky said.

“Watch it,” the agent sneered, bumping his shoulder again. He still didn't budge. “Think you're special because you got some serum in your veins and Rogers wanted to save your ass? You’re nothing.”

You gasped. You could handle people saying things about you, but people you cared about? It made you see red. How dare this guy say anything like that to Bucky?

“Nothing but HYDRA’s little bitch.”

Bucky glared and looked about two seconds away from smacking the guy across the room, but he hung his head after a second and didn't breathe a word. Maybe he didn't want to make a big deal out of it or didn't think it was worth it. You, however, wouldn't put up with it. Not for a second.

“Hey! Agent asshole,” you snapped, marching over until you were between Bucky and the agent. “Apologize to him.”

The agent cackled at you and you heard Bucky’s metal fingers curl. “Apologize? He was in my way.” He reached out a hand to pat your head. “But it’s kind of cute to see you defending the Winter Soldier. That's-” You grabbed his wrist and twisted it. “Ow, fuck!”

“And now I’m in your way,” you said sweetly, twisting a bit more until his knees buckled. “Apologize, now.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry!” he shouted.

Bucky had a look of awe on his face when you looked back at him. “It’s okay,” he said above a whisper.

You released the guy and pointed at the door. “Whatever you need you can get it later,” you said, satisfied when the agent scrambled out the door.

Bucky stared at you when you faced him, silence hanging in the air. “You okay?” you finally asked. Was twisting the guy’s wrist too much?

“I…” Bucky blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. “You defended me.”

“Well, yeah. I told you if anyone gave you a hard time they could deal with me,” you smiled. It didn't matter how small the matter was, you’d stick up for him. People like that guy often mistook your kindness for weakness. “And what he said was completely out of line.”

“Thank you.” His fingers reached out and touched yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Really. Thank you.”

“Don't need to thank me,” you said, giddy from his small touch. “And, listen, before he rudely interrupted, I was going to ask if it bothered you that I called you Sergeant.”

You thought you saw his fingers twitch again, but he shook his head. “No. I… kind of like hearing that from you.”

“Oh.” You dipped your head to hide your smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then? 6 am?”

“Yeah, you will,” he said softly, meeting your gaze as you lifted your head again.

“Have a good day then, Sergeant.”

He inhaled sharply. “Don’t be late tomorrow,” he gruffly spoke before he left the room without another word, hearts in your eyes as you stayed rooted to the spot.

You mentally jumped for joy from how excited you were. You couldn't keep the smile off your face the rest of the day. Bucky could've asked anyone in the building to spar with him, but he chose you. And he stuck up for you because some guy bumped into you. Now you just had to make sure you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in the morning.

Easy enough, right?

You spent more time than you cared picking out the perfect exercise outfit. It didn't matter what you wore since he only asked you to practice with him. It wasn't like he asked you out on a date. Still, you were hopeful that the matching black set would make him look at least once.

If anything, it was a confidence booster for yourself since you liked how you looked in it.

“Confidence is sexy,” you smiled before you grabbed your bag to go.

You got to the gym in record time, not wanting to be late or keep him waiting. Nodding to a few people on machines before you made it to the second floor, you had to pause and take a breath before you entered Room 2. The air was a bit cooler in the sparring area, which was good considering you’d likely work up a sweat.

Dropping your bag near the door, you nearly jumped when you spotted Bucky a few feet away staring at you. “Right on time,” he said, your throat dry as he nodded to the mat. “I stretched before you got here.”

“Hey,” you said, removing your jacket, the zipper loud in the quiet room. You gave him what you hoped was a nice smile when you went to the mat. “Shouldn't take me long.”

The Sergeant stood against the wall with his arms crossed as you began to stretch, one foot pressed against it as his eyes slid over to you. Quickly averting your gaze, you tried to concentrate on warming up instead of how good he looked in his workout gear. While his sweatpants hung low on his hips, the dark short sleeved shirt clung to him like a second skin. He had his hair pulled back, too, which only enhanced how bright his eyes looked under the ceiling lights.

You refused to get aroused just from looking at him.

Too. Fucking. Late.

“You good? You don't seem as chipper as usual,” he said.

“Yeah, I…” What were you even going to say? That his mere presence in his current attire made you wet? “I didn't have my coffee before I left, so no caffeine. This might wake me up.”

He didn't seem convinced, but he nodded after a moment. “I know the feeling,” he said with a soft smile. “Thanks for joining me so early. And sorry if it threw off your routine.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Morning exercises are good for the mind and body,” you said, standing once you finished stretching. He probably had a full schedule ahead of him. “I have to admit though, just like you were surprised I was nice to you a while back, I'm a little surprised you asked me to spar with you.”

“And why is that?” he asked as he approached the mat, all confidence as he took his spot.

Your throat went dry again before you cleared it. “Because someone like Steve is more evenly matched,” you said. Super soldier to super soldier, you could go for hours. “And chances of me beating you are also pretty slim.”

Way to downplay yourself.

“You nearly brought that agent to his knees yesterday and you didn't break a sweat.” His head tilted a fraction, his eyes carefully taking you in from head to toe. “You don't think you can take me?”

Your next breath came out in a rush. If you didn't know any better, you would've said he asked that on purpose. Oh, you had imagined Bucky telling you how well you'd take him, but not like this. You'd take what you can get.

“I can take you,” you stated.

You could only describe the look in his eyes as feral as he got into position. “I'm sure you can,” he said, your only warning before he rushed at you.

Blocking Bucky’s hit, you told yourself not to smile and focused on dodging another hit. He had advantages on his side, like his strength with the serum in his veins, but you were determined to show him that you were a worthy opponent. You also knew he wouldn't try to harm you. Anything he threw your way would be to help you improve.

Bucky grinned when he blocked your kick and you almost let it distract you. “I think you're giving me a run for my money,” he said before he performed a back full twisting layout to dodge another kick. Was that the proper term? Whatever it was, the move was more agile than you could comprehend.

“And I think you’re showing off,” you teased, extending your leg for a sweep instead. You huffed when he flipped away again. “Either that or Steve’s theatrics have rubbed off on you.”

“Don't tell him that. Wouldn't want him to get a big head,” he winked.

The back and forth went on for a few minutes, your breathing heavier and heart racing. Part of you wondered if he was pulling punches for your sake, but he didn't let up. It was exhilarating. You hoped he asked you to spar with him again.

“Tell me something.” Bucky brushed some of the loose hair back with the back of his hand, both of you panting lightly as the motions stopped for a second. “Why are you single?”

Your eyes widened at the question. “W-What?” you breathed, almost losing your footing as you stepped back. Why would he ask you that and why now?

“You told me why you don't use dating apps and you want to make a genuine connection, but you haven't mentioned anyone special,” he shrugged, tilting his head when he stepped forward. “You know you can tell me if there’s someone you like, right?”

“Maybe we can have this conversation when we’re done sparring?” you suggested. It would give you a chance to collect yourself.

He shook his head. “No, I think we should have this conversation now, if that’s okay.”

“I guess. If you insist.” You blocked his swing, barely. “There’s… someone I like, but I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

His cheek twitched, like he wasn't expecting that answer. “Who is he? Do I know him?”

That question threw you off a bit more. Why did he want to know who? “Yeah. Yeah, you do,” you said.

“Is it Steve? Sam?” he pressed, a hint of anger in his eyes. “Some other agent?”

“No, no, and no,” you replied, sighing as you dropped your arms. “Listen, do we really-”

Bucky swept your legs out from under you. The air left your lungs when your back hit the mat and he settled over you before you could get up, pinning your arms at your side. You tried to twist out of his hold and couldn't even use your thighs to roll him off you since he had those pinned, too.

“You let your guard down,” he said.

“Yep,” you said, the word clipped as you tried to look anywhere but at him. It was impossible. He was everywhere.

“Now this guy you like,” he started with a tilt of his head. He wasn't letting this go, was he? “If it’s someone I know and he isn't Steve, Sam, or another agent, who is he?”

You bit your lip, wishing you a chance to hide or bolt.

“Tell me,” he begged, his eyes staring into yours. “Please.”

Oh, God. Did he have any clue how you felt? At the very least, could he sense how he affected you by laying on top of you? How hard your nipples were against your top or the wetness that gathered between your thighs?

Now wasn't the time to focus on being horny.

He sighed when you didn’t speak. “Answer this then: Is there even the slightest chance that it’s me?” he asked, the question hanging in the air between you.

“I…” You swallowed hard as he waited patiently for your answer with an expectant gaze. He was so close and the position was too vulnerable, but you had to bite the bullet and tell him the truth. “It isn't a slight chance. It's one hundred percent you.”

“What?” he whispered.

Super soldier hearing, he should've heard you perfectly clear, right? “I like you, Bucky. I care about you. I pretty much have since I met you,” you finished, the quiet admittance making your chest burn.

It was out in the open now and no longer suppressing your feelings was a good thing.

He stared straight into your eyes, your heart picking up a notch. “You like me?” The weight of him left your thighs, but you couldn't breathe when he settled between them. “At the risk of sounding like an arrogant prick, are you single because you’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, swallowing again. “And you aren’t arrogant. Far from it.”

“So, every morning we’ve had coffee together and even before that, you cared about me? And when I brought up the dating app a couple of days ago and you offered to help me, you had feelings for me? And when you defended me?” He tilted his head further when you nodded. “And you didn't say anything until now?” It didn't feel like an accusation, but your eyes welled up anyway.

“Yes, the whole time. I didn't want to tell you and make things weird if you didn't feel the same way and I would've rather have you as a friend than nothing at all. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rambled as a tear slid from the corner of your eye. You weren't trying to deceive him by keeping your crush on him a secret. “We are kind of friends, right?”

The two of you hadn’t hung out outside of work, but there was something there. At the very least, there was a comradery. After this, who knew if he’d even want to speak to you again.

“I don't want to be your friend,” he said with conviction, your heart shattering. It was like he punched you right in the gut and maybe you deserved that. He smiled softly, something beautifully tragic when you struggled beneath him. Why wasn't he letting you up? “Wait, no, no. That’s not what I meant.”

You went limp when you couldn't break his hold. “Then what do you mean?!”

“I want to be so much more than that.”

“You…” the rest of the words died on your lips because what did he say?

A metal finger moved down your cheek, the touch cool against your warm skin as he wiped another tear away. The finger then tipped your chin before his mouth descended on yours. You weren't sure why you expected it to be a rough kiss, but it was anything but. His lips teased yours along with his tongue, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. It was demanding in the gentlest of ways.

It wasn't a rushed kiss either. It was thorough, slow, like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Did he have any idea of the spark he ignited within you? It was something hot, needy, out of control. Fire raced through your veins. You'd go up in flames if he kept kissing you like that. Like you meant something to him.

“I care about you, too,” he whispered. You inhaled sharply when he trailed kisses along your face. “I’ve liked you since we met.”

“You have?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I hoped you might feel the same, but I’m a bit rusty when it comes to this and I couldn't get a read on you when I mentioned the dating app. I figured this approach might be better.”

“Well,” you gasped when you felt something hard pressed against you. “It worked,” you said. You were glad he took the leap of faith.

“I’ll always remember the first time you smiled at me. I won't let anyone take that memory away from me,” he groaned against your skin, your eyes tearing up again. “And the way you stuck up for me… I don’t deserve you. I don't know if I ever will.”

“Don't say that,” you begged when he released your other wrist, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around him. “You deserve every bit of happiness.”

He smiled as his kisses moved down to your neck and you could only whimper when he licked and sucked over your pulse. “You're so caring. So good,” he said, rocking his hips forward. The sweet words combined with the sensual movements of his body fueled your desire. You also bit your lip to keep from bursting into tears from his praise. “And you're so beautiful, you know that? Inside and out.”

“You keep talking like that, I’ll keep crying,” you tried to joke.

He lifted his head to wipe another tear away. “Happy tears?”

“Very happy,” you promised, shifting underneath him and brushing his crotch again.

His mouth fell open as his eyes shut. It was one of the sexiest looks you had ever seen. “If you keep doing that, I’ll embarrass myself,” he said in a strained voice.

“Is that a bad thing?” you smiled innocently.

“Maybe not. I have a quick rebound rate if I do,” he teased, frowning when your smile slipped. “Shit, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“I’m fine. You didn’t say anything wrong,” you promised, touching his cheek. “I just… Am I dreaming?”

His lips touched yours again, You would’ve melted into the mat if you weren’t already underneath him. “You’re not dreaming,” he whispered. The groan he let out when you moved beneath him again reminded you that he really was settled between your legs. And hard. “I wanted to take you out on a nice date before I even touched you, but I don’t know if I can wait. You’re driving me crazy.”

Well, nothing had happened quite yet. Just a confession of feelings. And some kissing. And grinding.

“You’re driving me crazy, too, but if you want to stop, I understand,” you said. It didn't have to go further if he didn't want to, especially since it was fast.

His forehead touched yours. “Do you?”

You nearly shouted that you didn’t want him to stop, would never want him to stop, but this wasn’t just about you. “I don’t, but I get it if you do,” you said. You were kind of in a public place and consent went both ways. If he was the slightest bit uncomfortable, you were fine with stopping.

It seemed to be all he needed to hear since he kissed you again, eagerly licking into your mouth. Your heart was still racing out of control, the high from the exercise running through your veins. You wondered if he felt that adrenaline, too. If the confession of your feelings was the water against the dam, admitting that you wanted him physically, too, was the thing to break it.

“It’s just… I don’t…” He lifted his head to look around before he smiled. “Wait, hold on.”

He pushed himself up, your body cold from the sudden lack of heat. The tent he sported in his pants sent a surge of pride through you as he went as gracefully as he could to the door. Locking it, he went to his bag next and dug out a towel.

“What are you doing?” you asked when he came back quickly.

“Trying to be a gentleman,” he smiled, lifting your hips to place the towel underneath. “Sorry, the mat’s just kind of dirty and I think you deserve a little better than that.”

“You certainly are a gentleman,” you smiled back.

“The things I want to do to you are far from gentlemanly,” he said, reaching for the waistband of your pants and peeling them down with your underwear. You were sweaty and gross, but if he didn’t care, you wouldn’t either. “I wish I could lay you out and kiss every inch of your body.”

“Maybe after I shower,” you teased, both of you chuckling as you helped push his pants and underwear down. Once all was said and done the two of you could talk and figure out a date and him properly taking you to bed, but having him take you then and there was perfect. “Oh…”

Words left your mind when you saw his hard and heavy cock. A bead of precum dripped from the head and you wished you could have a taste. There was a good chance he’d split you in half, but it would be worth feeling him for days on end.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, opening your legs more as an offering. You didn’t care if it made you look desperate for him, which you were. You just hoped it looked enticing.

With blown pupils and a small growl, he shook his head. It was enough to make you want to cry. “I need to stretch you first, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment made you smile even when you argued, “I don’t need you to stretch me. I can take it.”

He narrowed his eyes, but gave you a smile, too, as he brought his hand to your scorching heat. “We’re both desperate for this, but I’m going to stretch your pretty cunt to make room for my cock. Got it?”

Shivering at his tone, you nodded. “Yes, Sergeant,” you answered, biting your lip when you saw his cock twitch. “You really like me saying that, don't you?”

“Yes,” he groaned. You’d have to keep calling him that in and out of bed then.

He rubbed along your folds slowly, like he was memorizing the feel. Deep down, he was a gentleman. Badly wanting you, but making sure he wouldn’t hurt you. What more could you ask for?

“Can I confess something?” he asked gently as the first finger sank into you, gently exploring. Gasping at the welcomed intrusion, you nodded. He could say anything he wanted. “I've imagined you just like this,” he stated, pulling his finger out before pushing it in deeper.

“You have?” you asked before he pushed a second finger in, both of them curling slightly. It sent sparks of pleasure down your spine.

“It almost felt wrong because I hadn’t even asked you to go out with me, but I couldn’t help myself.” His voice was huskier as he pumped his fingers, your hand fisting in his shirt. You throbbed with need, a kind of need you couldn’t ever remember feeling. “I wondered what kind of sounds you’d make and how you’d feel around me if you ever let me have you.”

More heat pooled in your core as you spread your legs wider for him.

“Making such pretty sounds for me already. And your pussy, it feels like heaven. Might even make me see God once I have my cock in you.” He glanced down to watch his fingers slide in and out of your tight passage, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Fuck, you’re so warm. And tight. And wet,” he continued, an almost cocky smile on his face when his thumb swiped over your clit and drew a small whimper from you. "Guess I haven’t completely lost my touch.”

“That is both hot and…” you had to pause when he added a third finger, making you stretch around the digits. He was going to be the death of you. “Is it bad if I’m a little jealous because I don’t want to think about you touching anyone else?”

Something sparked in his pretty blue eyes. “Does my girl have a jealous streak?” He slid a fourth finger in, your back arching with a small cry. “I’m flattered, but you have nothing to worry about. You’re the only one I want.”

Your breaths were shallow from his touch alone, but the sweet words got under your skin. “You don’t have to worry about anyone else either,” you exhaled. He knew you weren’t seeing anyone, but you felt the need to assure him. “And I like that.”

“Like what?”

Your hand twisted in his shirt more. “The idea of being your girl,” you managed to answer, your body writhing as he moved his fingers in a beautifully torturous motion. “Enough, Bucky, please.”

“Enough what?”

“I’m stretched. I’m on the pill. Just… put your cock in me, please!” Panting by the end of your begging rant with mist in your eyes, you added, “Can I at least touch you if you won’t fuck me?”

The beautiful bastard had the nerve to laugh when he took his fingers out. “Kind and steadfast, even when you’re begging to get fucked,” he said, his eyes slipping shut for a second as he licked the first two fingers clean. “I promise you can touch me later if you let me get a proper taste of your sweet cunt.”

Your cheeks got so hot it shocked you that you didn’t catch on fire. “Yes, please,” you whispered, the promise of later making you quiver.

The room felt like it was spinning when he stared down at you and licked his fingers again. He kept his eyes on you when he wrapped them around his cock and guided it to your waiting hole. You tried to calm the beating of your heart when he slipped the blunt head in, but you were powerless to do anything but feel as he kept pushing in. You trembled and gripped his shoulders once his hips were flush against yours, throbbing around his thickness already when hadn't started thrusting.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gasped, dropping his forehead to yours again as he trembled, too. “I need…” he breathed against your lips. “I just need a second, please.”

“Okay,” you whispered, wondering if he was as overwhelmed as you were. Maybe moreso. You weren’t sure exactly how long it had been for him. And being enhanced, you didn’t know if the sensations felt different or stronger. You just hoped he felt good. And happy.

His metal hand framed your cheek, so gentle in contrast to the damage he could do with it. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, tilting your head up to kiss him. “I can take it,” you promised. Your body had adjusted to his size and now you wanted him to move, to feel all of him.

He finally began to thrust, moaning against your lips. You lifted your hips, trying to take him in more. The hand on your face slid down your body before it moved to your hip, keeping you in place so you could feel him nice and deep. He pulled his cock out almost completely before he thrust back in, making you cry out as you quivered around him. You wanted to soak his cock, consume him the way he was consuming you.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised as you bit your lip. “No, lemme hear those pretty sounds. C’mon,” he said, changing his angle slightly so you moaned loudly. He moaned, too, as he kept thrusting. “There you go. So beautiful.”

You wanted to scream for him. You also wondered what it would feel like to have his hand around your throat or over your mouth to smother those very sounds if you ever snuck off during work to fool around. There were so many things you wanted to try with him.

“Bucky,” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders as he moved faster. Piercing pleasure built from your core and spread slowly throughout your body. You felt like you couldn’t breathe from how good it felt, how he felt.

The intensity in his turbulent eyes was similar to when he listened to you talk in the break room, but with much more heat. Had he looked at you like that all along? “Wanna mark you up one day. Let everyone see that you’re my girl,” he grunted, dragging his mouth from your face to your neck. He lightly bit down, smirking when you whined again. “Would you let me?”

“Yes,” you moaned, tilting your head to give him more access. You’d feel so proud to wear his mark. There wouldn’t be any shame if people saw or asked because you’d get to say you belonged to Bucky.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped, surging into you over and over, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls with your cries. “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last.”

The term of endearment again. It had your heart clenching along with your pussy. “Neither am I,” you breathed, bringing his head back to yours. You framed his cheeks, ecstasy close to crashing over you. From the strain in his handsome face, he was on the edge, too. “Come with me? Mark me up inside?”

It was a question and not a demand because you wouldn’t demand anything from the man who somehow stole your heart.

Through the pleasure twisting his face, he smiled. “Come with me.”

The heightened pleasure crashing over you was powerful enough that you almost screamed, your walls spasming around him. Shudders wracked your body as your breath ceased, trying to hold his gaze as the heat engulfed you. Your release coated him, just like you wanted it to. And it was only a few more thrusts from him before he tipped over the edge, filling you up in return. You both marked each other in the best possible way.

You laid limp beneath him, both of you panting. Your slick, wet heat still burned around him as released your hips and pushed himself up, a bead of sweat from his skin dripping onto yours. You gazed at each other, something tender passing between you. You wished the moment didn't have to end.

He leaned back down to nuzzle your nose and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly at the affectionate move. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, still dazed. “You?”

“Better than okay,” he said, smiling when you tucked some of his hair back. He looked good like this.

“I don't think I can move,” you teased.

“We have to, sadly,” he sighed, sliding himself from the warmth of your body. You whined at the loss, your hole clenching around nothing as your mixed release seeped onto the towel beneath you. “I know, but in case the next group that uses this room gets here early, I don’t want them to see you with your pants down,” he told you as he sat back and looked over you. You took a moment to look over him as well, getting a glance at his glorious thighs. You longed for the chance for you both to truly explore each other’s bodies. “And we could both use a shower.”

You inhaled when he used the clean part of the towel to gently wipe you both down. “Mmm. Together?”

He chuckled, helping you pull your underwear and pants back up. His hands lingered on your hips and you were two seconds from shoving the fabric back down. “If I get you in the shower, we won’t make it to work on time.”

“I don’t mind being late.” You tried to lift your arms to help him pull up his pants, too, but he beat you to it. It was a shame he had to cover up. “Or we could call in? I still have a lot of days off to use.”

“Yeah? You want to call in?”

“Yeah,” you said eagerly. Too eagerly. “Maybe?”

You almost shrank in on yourself when he raised an eyebrow. He told you he cared about you and he sure as hell just fucked you like he craved you, but you didn’t want to come across as clingy, especially so soon. The two of you still needed to figure things out.

And what if the things said were just from the heat of the moment? You weren't sure if your heart could take it if he walked away without another thought. He wouldn't do that though, right?

His gaze softened, helping you sit up, his face inches from yours as he rubbed your arms. “Hey. What’s the matter?” he asked, your heart in your throat when he smiled again. “Was I that bad?”

“No, not at all. You were amazing, holy shit, and telling you how I feel was long overdue,” you promised, his smile softer. “It’s just…”

His brows pinched. “It’s just what?”

You took a breath. “I've wanted to hear for so long that you had feelings for me, too. And now that it’s really sinking in, I guess I still feel like I’m dreaming a bit. That none of this happened,” you admitted, placing your hand on his chest. His heart was still beating fast, like yours. “That tomorrow I’ll just go back to being the girl who has a crush on you and nothing more.”

“What?” His face slowly fell. Why did you open your mouth? “No, that's not going to happen.”

“We just went from work friends to whatever just transpired, and I don’t want it to be too much or too fast for you or for you to regret this,” you blurted out, biting your lip hard. “I don't want to be too much for you,” you added in a whisper. Your insecurity surfaced more as the post-sex haze faded and you wished it hadn't. “I’m sorry. I don't know why I’m ruining the moment.”

It was stupid. Where had your optimism gone? He told you he cared about you. He gazed at you like you meant something to him. It was everything you wanted, so why were you questioning it?

“You didn't ruin anything.”

“Are you sure?” you asked softly.

Bucky placed his hand over yours, the other going to the back of your head so you couldn't move away. “I’m sure, now listen to me: Whatever is going on between us isn’t too much and you are not too much. You are never too much,” he said with fierceness akin to a growling wolf. “I want you and I want to be with you. I wouldn’t joke about that,” he assured you, your lips tugging in a small smile. “I get feeling like it's a dream, believe me, but it isn't. It's real and what just happened was real.”

Hearing him declare his feelings again made your heart soar. “I know you wouldn’t joke about that,” you said. He wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t toy with your feelings like that. “I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

“I do and I am happy,” he said, his eyes full of longing. He experienced so much pain and loss and deserved happiness. “I’ve lost so much of my life, so much time, and I don't want to waste another second. So believe me when I say I want you to be my girl.”

A sob threatened to work its way up. “Oh, Bucky,” you whispered, your head dipping down before he lifted it back up.

“That connection you’ve talked about wanting, I feel that with you. I trust you. That’s why I’ve been able to open up to you. The person who made me coffee and offered me kindness and understanding and just let me be me,” he said, making you smile more. You wished you could wrap each word around your heart. “I want to hold your hand in the break room and kiss you in the halls. I want you today and I’ll want you tomorrow and the day after that. And the only thing I regret from any of this is not asking you to be my girl sooner.”

His words, his stare, his touch, they healed the senseless wound your insecurity put on your heart. “I’m yours.” You surged forward, your lips crashing against his. He sighed before he returned the kiss, likely feeling the same relief you had. You wished you could put into words how much his assurance meant, but you hoped your kiss expressed it. “Thank you for both coaxing my feelings out of me and assuring me that you want this.”

“Anytime.” He brushed another kiss across your lips. “You know how you said you hoped the next person who dated me knew how lucky they were?” he asked. You remembered. “I'm the lucky one because you’re taking a chance on me.”

“You’re a smooth talker.” You had no clue how you kept the tears at bay. It meant everything that he wanted to be with you. “I think we’re both lucky.”

He smiled at that. “Yeah, but I still don’t deserve you,” he whispered, kissing you again before you could argue that he was more than worthy. “So, you want to spend the day with me?”

“Yeah, I do. We can go on a day date or just talk some more at my place or yours,” you answered, not feeling the need to hide anymore. “That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“Sweetheart, you just let me fuck you on a sparring mat. You can ask me for anything you want,” he smirked, catching your face between his hands. “But this day date doesn’t count as the nice date I want to take you on. My girl deserves something special.”

Your heart tightened in your chest, your emotions starting to run high again before you took a calming breath. “Then how about after that shower we call in, go to a cafe, get a cup of coffee, and figure out that date together? Maybe I’ll even convince you that you do deserve me.”

He huffed, taking your hands and helping you both up. You’d never be able to look at a pair of sweatpants again without thinking of what transpired there. “Okay, but I’m warning you right now that I probably won’t like the coffee.”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t make it,” he smiled. “Maybe we can check out that science exhibit you mentioned.”

You giggled. He remembered. “That would be nice,” you said, leaning close when he slipped his arm around you and guided you toward your bag. “You know, I can make more than just coffee. Just say the word and I’ll cook for you,” you said. You’d love to cook him a nice meal.

“Word,” he deadpanned.

You giggled again. “Later,” you promised. You’d make him something special. “Do you think Alpine will like me?”

“She’ll love you,” he promised, giving you a sheepish smile. “I told her all about you. And I think the last few dinners with Steve and Sam all I talked about was you.”

“You told your cat about me? You're adorable,” you smiled. It was really sweet. “And… Will Steve and Sam be happy?” They were his friends and you hoped they approved.

“Steve will be thrilled.” He huffed again. “But Sam’s opinion doesn't matter. Fuck him.”

With a teasing smile, you asked, “Wait, I thought I was supposed to give Sam a talking to. Are you offering for me to fuck him?” You shrieked when he growled and picked you up, placing you over his shoulder. “Bucky!”

“You’re not fucking anyone but me. You’re my girl and I’ll mark you up to prove it if I have to,” he said, keeping a firm hand on you as he carried you away. “But for now, let’s shower before we call in.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Bucky didn’t have to prove anything. He had you in a chokehold from the start and always would. And you were proud to finally be his girl.

Woohoo! You made it! I like to think this reader has bits of Smartie and Mrs. Barnes, and she deserves her man! I know these two will have wonderful times ahead! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mandoloriancookie]

𝙄 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 [ 2 ]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Friends to Lovers. SMUT: Touch Hungry Bucky, Kiss Hungry Bucky, Bucky just not getting enough of you, fingering, cunnilingus, Oral [M&F], unprotected piv, creampie. Just PURE making love, no kinks. Summary: It's only been a few hours since you've become official and Bucky want to show you just how much you mean to him. A/N: 2 of 2. And I must say. . . JAYSUS. BON APETITIDDIES.

Part One

You were stiff. You were sore. Your arm was asleep. And you felt fucking fantastic.

Maybe in the movies people woke up entwined in each other's arms after a night of spirited lovemaking, but for you, reality was much more awkward. Your head had somehow become wedged behind Bucky’s shoulder, and both his legs were about to slide off the couch altogether. You untangled yourself as best you could, looking down at him as you moved his limbs out of the way.

Bucky was sleeping peacefully, his dark lashes lying flat against the skin beneath his eyes. They fluttered slightly as you pulled free of him, and he stirred.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled, and turned over so he was facing the back of the couch, still caught in mid-slide towards the floor.

You tried not to laugh. God, he was adorable.

You sat up, arching your back to stretch out the sore muscles. Then your breath caught. What time was it? Holy hell, I’m going to be late.

You stood up quickly, and was seized by an ache between your legs so unfamiliar that you nearly sat back down again. Holy crap. It had been way too long. You almost felt like a virgin again. You rose again shakily, noticing that your whole groin felt sore, and so did your hips—probably from throwing your legs up around his waist. God, what a wanton hussy you were, you thought happily.

You went quietly towards the bathroom, checking the clock on the stove as you walked by. It was nearly eight-thirty. Crap. You were supposed to be at work by nine, or nine-thirty at the latest. you'd  have to make the shower a quick one.

You stood under the hot water, letting it pour over your sore muscles. You washed out your hair, lathered up your body and massaged your sore hips as random images from last night invaded your thoughts. Even now you weren't entirely convinced it hadn't all been a dream. Has it really happened? The soreness was real enough. And so were the images flashing through your mind.

Bucky’s body on yours, looming over you, holding your wrists, kissing you with abandon. Taking each breast in his mouth, teasing you with his fingers. Sliding into you, tilting your back and thrusting deeper, faster, harder.

Suddenly a blurry figure appeared on the other side of the glass door. The door slid open and he stood there, looking disheveled from sleep but adorably sexy. And naked, too.

"Hi," he said, a seductive smile curving his lips. His eyes traveled down your naked body, pausing at your breasts and then sliding down to the between your legs where rivulets of water coursed and ran together.

You flushed at the frank inspection but willed yourself not to try to hide from him. You shifted your weight, jutting your hip out provocatively and smiled.

His eyes returned to yours, desire glinting in them. "May I join you?"

You pushed the door back and invited him in. Bucky stepped in and crowded you, not unpleasantly, until your back was up against the tiles. He braced his hands on the wall behind you, and let the water flow over him as he leaned down and kissed you.

You opened to him and kissed him back, winding your hands around his waist and sliding them down his ass, squeezing appreciatively. He smiled into the kiss, enjoying your wandering hands, then pushed forward so your bodies were pressed together, the water slick and warm between you.

"So," he murmured in your ear, his voice barely a whisper above the sound of the water. "So much for that idea."

"What idea was that?" you whispered back, kissing his ear.

"The idea that we could ever be just friends," he said, catching your jaw with his lips as you turned your head. He covered your neck with slow, lingering kisses, trailing his mouth down your and cupping your breast with his hand.

"Oh, I don't know, I think it's a great idea so far," you said coquettishly. "Besides," you joked. "I do this with all my male friends."

He mocked a scowl at you, and gave you  that smile that had always melted you. "Well, that's going to have to stop. You're mine now."

He kissed you slowly, his tongue tangling with yours as he teased and tasted, enjoying your mouth.

You kissed him back, licking and tasting and enjoying him until you felt rather than heard a hum of desire, of pure carnal lust, vibrating through him. He was growing hard against your belly, his cock pressing against you urgently.

He lowered his head further and took your  nipple into his mouth, licking the soft nub until it grew hard beneath his tongue. Pleasure shot through you, and he turned to lavish the same attention on your other breast. You writhed against the cold tiles at your back, arching into him and sinking your fingers into his hair to hold him to you. He smiled as you moaned with pleasure, and laughed softly when he took your nipple between his teeth and made you suck in a sharp breath.

His cock was as hard as it had been a few hours ago, and it surged in your hand as he took your breasts. You gathered some suds into your palm and grasped him again, feeling the iron-hardness of him beneath the silky skin. You began to stroke, gliding fast and smooth, and he groaned from the pleasure of it, collapsing against you and kissing you between his soft, low sounds of pleasure and need.

You kept stroking and teasing, gliding over him in a steady rhythm, and felt yourself growing warm and slick at how hard he was beneath your fingers. You loved that you were doing that to him, making him want you so much. He groaned, his breath jagged and shallow. He tried to kiss you through his mounting pleasure but he had to break off to breathe, to lose himself in the sensation.

"God, baby," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "So good."

You tried not to focus on him calling you baby, knowing it was only his arousal talking. You focused instead on the intense pleasure that was making him say it. You continued stroking him, changing your hand position so that you pulled up with each stroke, teasingly pulling his skin up over the head each time and sinking down to the base, pleasuring every inch of him. Your other hand cupped his balls and caressed him, gently rolling him around in your fingers as he tensed and surged and seemed to fight against you, against the unbearable pleasure you were causing him.

After a few torturous moments he stopped your hand, his breathing so fast and ragged that he could hardly speak. 

“You—don't want—this to end too soon, do you?” he warned, kissing you in between breaths. “Because, my God, you could make me come in seconds if you wanted to.”

“That might be fun,” you said, kissing the edges of his mouth, licking at his lips and his tongue when he opened his mouth to you again.

“For me, yes,” he breathed, breaking away from you. “But I'm not nearly finished with you yet.”

He slipped his hand into your hair and held your head, kissing you with such raw passion, such naked need that you felt a surge of warmth flood between your legs in spite of the cooling effects of the water. He had wrung a soul-shattering orgasm out of you just a few hours ago and yet here you were again, eager for him again. Wanton hussy indeed.

"Do you remember that night, two years ago?" he asked, his voice low and deep. "At the party, when I played that song on the guitar for you, and you asked whether it hurt my fingers to play the steel strings?"

He was watching his own fingers trail over your breasts, over your tightened nipple, down past your navel, as the water trickled over you both.

"Mmm hmmm," you murmured, your eyes closed, lost in the sensation of the water coursing down your body and his hand moving over you.

“And you touched my fingertips…”

Of course you remembered; you'd run your  fingers over the roughened pads of his fingertips, and had watched in delight as he'd twitched a little, and then trembled, just a little, at your touch. You'd kept your touch feather-light and soft, drifting over his fingertips and down his fingers a little, feeling the shiver of heightened awareness in your  own hands.

Maybe you'd been a little too suggestive, a little too lingering, whispering-touching those parts of him that were supposedly hardened against such sensations—but you'd been unable to stop yourself. His hands had been warm and strong and eminently male, and when he'd stiffened and held his breath, as if willing himself not to react to your seductive touch, you'd felt that shiver of awareness deepen into an intense desire.

Such a seemingly innocent touch, just a friend examining the time-worn calluses of a guitar player's fingertips. . .and yet in that moment, even amongst their friends, even with the music playing loud and the laughter soaring above it, you'd felt like it had been just the two of you in that room, touching each other intentionally for the very first time, your hand tentatively reaching out for his, and his reaching to meet your half way.

“You drove me wild.” he said, leaning to kiss your neck. “I got so hard, I was afraid to move. And after that, I kept thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you with these fingers.” He slipped his hand between your  legs and caressed your folds, parting them gently and sliding inside you. “Like this, for instance.”

You moaned and leaned your head against his shoulder, letting him touch you wherever he wanted. His fingers explored you, caressed you, possessed you, expertly as though they, too, knew you were his.

“I just had to touch you,” you breathed against him. “And believe me, this is what I was thinking about too.”

“You stopped me last night,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along your neck. “I wanted to feel you come for me. To finish what you started that night.”

You groaned at the sound of his voice, so low and sexual, so heated with his own desire.

“Let me feel you come for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, licking your  earlobe. “Please.”

He gripped your hip and lifted you up against the wall slightly, positioning you so he could slide his fingers deep inside you. He held you firmly around the waist, bracing you against the wall, and thrust into you gently, with first one finger, then two, sliding deeper and deeper each time, stretching you, mimicking the size and power of his cock. His thumb played over your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you as he pressed his forehead to yours and gazed down into your  eyes. You gasped and cried out from the overwhelming pleasure of it even as you squirmed beneath his fingers and ached for more.

He braced you against his thigh and pressed against you while his arm steadied you from behind, holding you completely in his grasp. Bucky had such a way of holding you, letting you know that you were going nowhere, making sure you had no desire to be anywhere but in his arms. You felt safe, and secure, and above all, worshiped.

Bucky bent down and kissed you, sliding his fingers into your with a wild, sensuous rhythm that matched the increasing speed of his thumb as it stroked and rubbed and swirled around your aching clit. His hand was so strong, his fingers curving inside you to caress you, to find that super-sensitive inner spot even as he plunged and drove and took. With his thumb circling your clit in a relentless rhythm and his fingers deep inside you, stretching you, claiming you, you felt completely owned by him, by the hand that possessed every inch of you.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers, swirling, tasting, mutely revealing that he had had another  fantasy, too. The thought of his mouth on you, his tongue tasting you, torturing you, swirling over your clit as you writhed beneath it made you go weak in the knees.

Bucky broke away from the kiss and began trailing kisses down your neck, your breasts, lowering himself to his knees in front of you  while bracing your hips against the tiles with his strong hands.

"Did I mention what it did to me the first time your tongue touched mine?" he whispered devilishly.

He looked up at you so intently, his beautiful blue eyes blazing as the water streamed over his shoulder and down the contours of his chest. You gazed down at him, and for the second time this morning questioned whether  all this could actually be happening. This gorgeous, virile man gripping you, kneeling before you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It couldn't be real, could it?

Then he lowered his lips to your and you knew it was.

Sensation tore through your touch, so delicately gentle at first, and you arched against the wall with a startled cry. You reached down and gripped his shoulder, steadying yourself on one foot as he brought you to your leg up slowly, gently and eased it over his shoulder. The sight of it alone nearly made you come. He moved so languidly, so sensuously, positioning you better so he could enjoy your all the more.

He closed his mouth over your clit and kissed it luxuriously, his lips moving as though he were kissing your mouth. His tongue swirled over you in large, sensuous circles and he groaned against you, tightening his grip on your hip as you moaned against the sudden overwhelming pleasure of it. The tip of his tongue darted out to flick against your  rapidly as he looked up at you again, watching your pleasure, his eyes smiling at you as if he knew precisely how good he was making you feel. Then he fell on you again, his tongue roaming over you, tasting you, luxuriating in your folds and dipping to lap at your entrance.

“Oh my, g-god. Bucky—”

You bucked against him and cried out as his tongue slipped into your and pulsed there, gently, savouring you. Your hand sank into his wet hair and as you gripped his head, you were rewarded with a muted chuckle and a more intense forward surge of his tongue inside you. He liked the moans he wrought from you. He liked being able to make your  cry out and seize him, your head thrown back in agonizing pleasure.

And fuck did you like it, too.

"Oh God," you breathed, your heart thundering in your chest. "My God, that feels so good..."

He withdrew from your and slid his tongue up to torture your aching clit, and just when you began to miss the feel of him inside your he gently pushed his fingers into your again and began to thrust.

Pleasure soared through you and you cried out even louder, and the leg draped over his shoulder began to tremble. His tongue circled your clit again, deliciously slowly, as his fingers slid into you over and over again, a sensual, primitive rhythm that made you  want to grind your hips against the pleasure.

“I'm coming,” you whispered urgently. “You're going to make me come…”

His fingers thrust deeper and faster and he began to lick you so quickly, with such a throaty groan of pleasure that you felt your  orgasm rise, terrifyingly fast and sharp, making you cry out in increasing, panting breaths until you shattered, coming violently around his fingers and that sensuous, irresistible tongue. You shuddered with an aching cry and trembled from the spasms he sent rippling through you. Your body curled forward as you gripped him tighter, your  fingers pulling on his hair from the pressure.

He removed your leg from his shoulder gently as you continued to shudder, feeling aftershocks of pleasure shiver through you. He got to his feet and helped you stand, pressing himself against your  and nuzzling your neck.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, your voice shaking. your  whole body shaking. “That was incredible.”

“That...was just the prelude,” he whispered, kissing you. “I haven't even started pleasuring you yet.”

God, he was going to kill you. Death by orgasm, you thought happily. What a way to go.

He leaned to turn off the water, but he stilled his hand. He looked back at you with a questioning expression, and then understood. You pulled him back towards yourself and he went willingly, stepping back under the stream of water, kissing you deeply, his hands roaming greedily over your  body.

You weren't done with him. He had made you feel like a goddess, worshiped, cherished, adored.

You broke off the kiss and began trailing your  lips down his neck, his collarbone and chest, enjoying the warmth of the water trickling past your mouth. His chest muscles tensed as you kissed them, and as you moved your  lips slowly down his abdomen you felt his whole body go rigid with anticipation. You sank to your knees in the tub and brushed kisses along his navel, his hip bones, and he put his hands on your shoulders to steady himself. Water coursed over both of you, and you delighted in it, closing your eyes against the spray.

“Baby,” Bucky said softly, barely audible above the water.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. He was about to say something but you smiled and glanced away, focusing instead on the head of his cock, hard and urgent in front of you. He was thick and beautiful, and still as hard, maybe even harder, than he had been when you'd teased him with your  hands.

“I want to taste you,” you said playfully. “All of you.”

You leaned forward and gently licked the swollen tip of his cock. He inhaled sharply, his whole body tensing, and you smiled up at him, letting him know this was for your  pleasure as much as for his. You swirl your  tongue around the head, taking it into your  mouth and suckling gently, teasing it. The skin was soft and smooth, stretched deliciously tight from the hardness of his erection.

You let your tongue play over it, dipping into the opening, making him moan. You drifted your tongue along the ridge, and down to the sensitive skin just beneath the head, licking and tasting, nipping and kissing.

You looked up at him, and his dark eyes were wild with desire. You smiled, and ran your  tongue up and down the length of him, ending at the head and flicking at it delicately, teasingly. He moaned softly, his breathing starting to grow rapid. You rose up slightly to take the whole length of him into your mouth and sucked him, long and hard.

He let out a gasp and braced himself against the wall with one hand, his other  hand gripping your  shoulder.

“Oh fuck—Baby...”

You slid your mouth over his shaft, deeper, deeper, and slid back up the length of him. Your hands came around and gripped his ass, pulling him towards you. He staggered forward slightly as you took him into your  mouth again, luxuriously taking in his entire length, sucking, licking, tasting as you went. The sensation of him in your mouth was almost as overwhelming as his first entrance into your body had been, so unfamiliar but so right at the same time.

You caressed his balls with one hand as you played your tongue over his cock. He groaned, his breathing jagged now, his cock harder than ever. His hand moved from your  shoulder to sink into your wet hair, and he gripped your head with barely restrained urgency. Gently he guided your head closer to him as you sucked. You lowered yourself onto him and slowly sucked your way back up, your mouth gripping him, your cheeks hollowing, as your tongue slid over him with each pass.

His hips began to move as he started to match your rhythm, thrusting into you, meeting your mouth. Bucky gripped your head more firmly and held your head still, driving into you gently.

You let your hand fall and you sat back on your haunches, enjoying the feeling of him sliding in and out of your mouth, controlling his own pleasure, taking what he wanted, and what you were so willing to give. Yet you could tell he was holding back, wanting to thrust harder and faster but restraining himself and settling for a smoother, slower pace.

For you. Bucky was holding back for your sake. This passionate, soulful, virile man was holding back his own pleasure because he wanted to be gentle with you.

The very thought of it excited you, and you increased your own rhythm, encouraging him, moaning with pleasure as he drove into you. You sucked harder, faster, turning your  gaze up to him with an urgent plea in your  eyes. Faster. Deeper. Now, my love.

And he understood.

Bucky groaned, and stepped forward. His hand clenched in your hair and he began to move, faster and harder, plunging deeper, holding your head as he thrust into your  mouth with urgent, rhythmic strokes. He slid in and out of your mouth as if through warm honey, and you felt and heard his pleasure mounting with every ratcheted breath and every desperate moan that escaped his lips.

His eyes watched your with rapt adoration and abject lust, and you could tell that the sight of your taking him fully into your mouth, of your sucking him with pure, greedy abandon and complete acceptance, was pushing him closer to the edge as much as the intense pleasure of your tongue on his cock was. Or more.

He tensed as his rhythm grew faster, his breathing harder, until you felt him tighten and strain so much that you felt certain he was going to spill himself into your mouth. But at the last moment he cried out and pulled back, his cock slipping out of your  mouth quickly. He stood still, breathless, his eyes closed as if willing his orgasm to retreat. Water sliced down his neck and chest, and finally he let out a slow, jagged moan of a breath and opened his eyes. He looked down at you wildly, and reached for you,helping you to your feet.

“Jesus,” he said breathlessly, staring at you as he tried to catch his breath. “I can't...I can't believe how goddamn good that felt. You brought me so close, so fast, I almost couldn't stop it.”

“Why did you?” you asked, running your  finger along his jaw. “I wanted to feel you come for me.”

He groaned against you, his hands roaming over your  body. “I told you, I'm not nearly done with you yet.”

He kissed you hungrily, his cock surging against your violently as your bodies met. you could feel him moving against you, his cock rubbing against you,and you knew how badly he wanted to be inside you again.

As badly as you wanted him inside you again.

He stepped back, his breath still ragged, and pressed his forehead to yours as he closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

“You're not done yet, huh?” you teased gently, letting your fingers sink into his wet hair as you kissed his neck.

“Not nearly.”

“But I have to go to work. Maybe if I'm lucky you'll be here when I get home?”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

He reached to turn off the water and stepped out of the shower, turning to help your step over the wall of the tub. You threw your robe on and cinched the belt as he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. You caught him grinning at you, and it was so clear what he was thinking that it made your  laugh.

“What?” you demanded, squeezing the excess water out of your hair with a hand towel. “What are you smiling at?”

Bucky wetted his lips with his tongue, “Fuck it. You're just going to have to be late for work. Come here…”

“Hey!” your eyes widened playfully, jumping away from him. “Are you trying to kill me? Stop!”

Bucky untied your robe and you yelped, trying to slap his hands away. He just kept advancing on you, grinning devilishly. You turned and scampered away from him with a squeal of delight.

He followed behind, still grasping for the robe. You shrieked and laughed and ran towards the bedroom, and he followed, catching up to you and pushing you onto the bed with a resounding crack of the bed frame.

You laughed as he tumbled on top of you, but he silenced you with his mouth, kissing you hungrily as he impatiently pushed your robe aside. His breath was ragged as he nudged your legs apart with his knee, his need too great for the slow, sensual lovemaking of last night. He held his cock against your entrance and smoothly thrusts into you and moaned against your mouth, and you wrapped your legs around him to draw him deeper.

He plunged into you, covering your body and your mouth with the same hungry possession. You were still so warm and wet, so exquisitely ready for him that he filled you easily, driving you relentlessly as he tasted your tongue, your lips, your neck, and groaned from the pleasure your body was giving him.

You tensed around him and he moaned breathlessly, a throaty, male sound of pure ecstasy. He pounded into you, falling into a steady rhythm born of raw, primitive need. Your body tightened around him with every thrust, and waves of pleasure rippled through you, building in intensity up to an almost unbearable pressure, a delicious heat that made you moan into his mouth as he kissed you.

He rose up, his arms braced beside you, to look down as he stroked and withdrew and breathed out his pleasure while his eyes glowed pure heat. He grabbed your rear, tilting one hip up towards him, entering you  on such an angle that a new kaleidoscope of pleasure bloomed throughout you. He gripped you possessively, driving you deeper and faster and harder. His eyes burned, glowing like obsidian, hot and wild and almost frenzied with desire.

“Baby,” he groaned, his eyes pinning you, claiming you, as though he were branding you with your heat.

You're mine...

You're mine...

Your first time together had only been hours ago, but it was as if you had been lovers for years...every fluid flexing of his hips against you hit just the right spot, every deep, powerful thrust of his cock stretched your pussy with a familiar, almost expected surge of pleasure.

“Yes—oh god yes, Bucky—fuck me,” you breathed.

Two simple words and suddenly he was on the edge...buried so deep inside you, thrusting, plunging, your breasts pressed against his chest, the pleasure roaring through his body.

Suddenly he wanted to take you, hard. He wanted to fuck you with abandon, the eyes-closed, head-back, moaning-out-loud kind of sexual abandon that he had so rarely experienced in his life, but which was crashing through his body and mind right now.

He wanted this woman...he wanted to own you, to take you, to claim your body as his....he wanted to fuck you until he'd emptied his balls into you, feeling your pussy clenching and spasming in orgasm around his cock as he came, as you came, as you came together.

He withdrew from you quickly, barely able to catch his breath, and, as if you could read his thoughts, you turned onto your stomach just as his trembling hands guided your hips over. Your hair spilled over your bare back and your ass curved out so seductively it was all he could do not to cum right there, all over your smooth skin. But his cock knew what it wanted, and he pulled you forward to slide into the heaven of your pussy, so wet and tight and swollen for him.

He cried out when he took your again, his cock parting your folds and filling you so completely. The feel of him stretching you, the crest of his head pressing against your  from this new angle...you felt a tremor of pleasure ripple through you and knew you were close, as close as he was. When he leaned over you and began to kiss your  shoulders you shuddered, and when he began to thrust you buried your face in the pillow and moaned.

Your moans of pleasure filled the room and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to last, begging his aching cock not to explode just yet. . .this pace, these quick short strokes as his hips slapped against your ass, your body moving with his every thrust. . .It was almost too much to bear. Bucky buried his faced in your sweet-smelling hair and let his cock plunge as it would, faster and faster, making him shake, making him breathless, making him feel like nothing but a desperate cock as he fucked you.

And fucked you. And fucked you, as you had begged him to...

You could only whimper now, lost to the pleasure of his man taking you like this, fucking you so wildly, almost savagely. The pleasure he was taking from your body, his moans and groans and the growls of pleasure you could feel against your back and in the warm breath at your ear. . . it was pure, primal lust.

You felt worshiped beneath him, as if every thrust of his hungry cock was a tribute to you, every growl and sharp breath an oath. He was fucking you, mindlessly, and yet every part of him was attuned to you, touching you, adoring you.

As his pace grew even faster, his thrusts shallower, you could sense he was about to come, and you felt your muscles tighten around him to heighten his pleasure and hers. His thrusts were so powerful that you felt the orgasm rising in you and you closed your eyes, lifting your head back so he could slide his hand into your hair, gently holding your neck and kissing your jaw with breathy, open-mouthed kisses.

“Oh, God Bucky...I'm coming,” you moaned. “I'm coming.”

“Yes...cum for me baby....cum on my cock.”

“Cum with me....please....I want you to cum inside me, please....please....”

And he could withstand it no more.

Pleasure detonated through him as his orgasm spasmed throughout his body, wracking him with wave after wave of euphoric release. He cried out your name as he thrust and bucked against your flesh, driving his cock deeper and deeper as he came and came and came. It felt like he would never stop cumming, and when he felt your orgasm tear through your pussy and clench his cock in waves, he thought he might black out from the sheer ecstasy of it.

You slammed back against him as the first spurts of cum began to fill you, and felt your  ravaged pussy begin to spasm again and again, milking his cock, pulling his cum deeper into you, flooding you with ripples of pleasure. You moaned and writhed, riding the crest of one orgasm only to feel a second one begin to climb and then crash over you. Breathless, almost sobbing from the pleasure, you let him hold you as he continued to pound into you, draining his balls into you at his will, lost in the utter bliss of a man taking a woman in the most primal way.

When he could bear it no longer, when his exquisitely sensitive cock throbbed within you and the pleasure bordered on pain, he stilled, finally, and shuddered. Sharp spasms of pleasure shot through him as his cock surged one last time within you, his aching balls emptying every last ounce of come. Bucky was almost lightheaded, his chest heaving, sweat glazing his skin as he withdrew his hand from your hair and ran it down the center of your back, needing to touch you, needing to feel your heated skin. You were breathless too, your back moving beneath his hand as you lay your head down and tried to catch your breath.

You felt him withdraw from you, and your  pussy rebelled, clenching to keep him there, as if pleading with him not to go. Bucky groaned softly against your ear as he pulled out and fell on the bed beside you, his arms surrounding you and pulling your back against him. You fit perfectly together, and every muscle in your body relaxed as you snuggled into him and breathed out a contented sigh. You felt his lips on the shell of your ear, kissing softly, felt his slowing breath against your skin as his soft sounds of contentment and pleasure hummed in his throat.

This is heaven, you thought. Pure heaven. your pussy twitched and tingled as you felt his warm come beginning to slip down your  inner thighs. His strong arms surrounded you, his soft lips murmured and whispered and kissed, his spent cock nestled against the curve of your ass.

“There was something I wanted to tell you, remember?” he murmurs, his words brushing warmly against your skin as he kisses a path down to your shoulder. “Last night… something I wanted to say to you. Something I wanted you to know.”

You shift slightly, turning to look at him, your heart pounding as you search his eyes, barely able to breathe. 

“Tell me,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea.

His gaze softens, an unmistakable warmth filling his expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. 

“I love you.”

The words settle between you, simple but perfect, like they were always meant to be there. Your heart feels like it’s soaring, every nerve in your body alive with the thrill of it, of finally hearing what you’d been aching to hear.

You break into a smile, biting your lip, feeling giddy and light, and without a second thought, you lean forward, kissing him softly, your hand finding his as you whisper back, “I love you too.”

And as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that feels like home, you realize that, for the first time, everything feels right.

tags: @cereal6666 @thatesqcrush @cl7ire @bighappypiels @mostlymarvelgirl

@winchestert101 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mcira @elvenrin

@xunquish-blog @meetmeattheapt

[mandoloriancookie]

CRUSHED CONFUSION— bucky barnes

WARNINGS: masturbation, sexual frustration, implied sex.



You weren’t supposed to be like this.

The past few nights had been unbearable. You tossed and turned in bed, frustration coiling deep in your stomach, your body restless. No matter how hard you tried, sleep wouldn’t come—not when your thoughts were completely consumed by him.

Steve.

The golden boy. The man you’d been crushing on for ages, silently, secretly. No one knew, and you liked it that way. He was everything you could ever want—strong yet gentle, kind yet firm. You imagined his hands on you, his soothing voice whispering sweet things in your ear, his soft lips pressing against your skin.

And so, in the dead of night, unable to take the heat between your legs anymore, you reached for your vibrator.

You closed your eyes, letting your mind wander. You imagined Steve above you, his lips brushing over yours, his hands trailing down your body, slow and careful—because of course, he’d be gentle with you. He’d take his time, savor you, worship you.

Your back arched, your breath coming out in soft gasps as pleasure built higher and higher.

But then—A different voice entered your mind.

A raspier, deeper voice.

Come on, sweetheart, you can take it.

Your breath hitched. That wasn’t Steve. That wasn’t even close.

Suddenly, your fantasy shifted. Rough hands replaced soft ones. Teasing lips, a knowing smirk, dark blue eyes that didn’t hold gentle adoration—but something far more dangerous.

Bucky.

You whimpered, your thighs clenching. Why were you thinking about him? You barely spoke to Bucky. Sure, he was attractive—anyone with eyes could see that—but he wasn’t Steve. He was sharp where Steve was soft, unfiltered where Steve was polite.

But none of that seemed to matter anymore.

In your mind, Bucky wasn’t gentle. He didn’t take his time—he took what he wanted. He’d pin you down, his metal arm holding you in place, his breath hot against your ear as he growled against your skin. He wouldn’t whisper sweet nothings—no, he’d taunt, tease, command.

Your body tensed, pleasure hitting you like a freight train. And when you came undone, it wasn’t Steve’s name that tumbled from your lips.

It was Bucky’s.

Your eyes snapped open, your chest rising and falling rapidly as shock coursed through you.

What the hell just happened?

You stared at the ceiling, heart hammering in your chest. You had never thought about Bucky like that before. At least… you didn’t think you had. So why the hell did your body react to him in a way it never did for Steve?

You rolled over, groaning into your pillow.

You were so screwed.

—

Avoiding Bucky was easier said than done.

You tried. You really did. You took the long way around hallways, busied yourself whenever he entered the room, refused to make eye contact. But it was like the universe wanted you to suffer—because, of course, you ended up being paired with him for a mission.

And it was a disaster.

You couldn’t focus. Every time he spoke, his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Every time he moved, your eyes betrayed you, flickering to the way his muscles flexed beneath his tactical gear. And every time he touched you—even just a simple brush of his fingers—your breath caught in your throat.

You were losing it.

The worst part? He noticed.

Bucky kept giving you these looks—curious, amused, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying every nervous twitch, every stuttered response.

And then the mission went to hell.

The building was collapsing. You were supposed to clear out quickly, but a wrong turn led the two of you straight into a locked storage room, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind you.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered, trying the handle. It didn’t budge.

You swallowed hard, pressing your back against the opposite wall. The room was small, barely enough space for the two of you. The dim emergency lighting cast shadows over Bucky’s sharp features, making him look even more intimidating.

“Alright, doll, let’s get this open,” he said, stepping closer.

Too close.

You stiffened as his chest nearly brushed against yours. The scent of gunpowder and something distinctly Bucky surrounded you, making your head spin. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, and suddenly, you weren’t thinking about the mission anymore.

You were thinking about that night. The way you moaned his name. The way you imagined his hands gripping you, his breath against your skin—

Heat rushed to your face. Oh, God.

“You good?” Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts.

You nodded too quickly. “Y-Yeah! Fine! Totally fine!”

His brows furrowed. “You sure? You’re acting weird.”

“I am not acting weird,” you squeaked.

He gave you a look. “Sweetheart, you’ve barely said a word to me all week, and now you look like you’re about to pass out.”

You bit your lip, cursing yourself. Get it together!

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing!”

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s a damn lie.”

“I just—” You exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze. “I just need some space, okay?”

Bucky’s expression shifted—his amusement fading into something more serious. He took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Did I do something?” he asked.

Your stomach twisted. He almost sounded… hurt.

“No! No, you didn’t do anything,” you said quickly. It’s me. I’m the problem.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Then why won’t you look at me?”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. The moment your eyes locked, your body betrayed you again. Heat bloomed in your chest, your pulse quickening. Why did he have to be so damn attractive?

Bucky’s expression flickered. His eyes darkened just slightly, and you swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch—like he knew exactly what was running through your head.

“You’re blushing,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched. “No, I’m not.”

He smirked. “You so are.”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire. Abort mission. Abort mission.

Bucky stepped closer again, his voice dropping. “What changed, sweetheart?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it.

You could not tell him the truth. No way in hell.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried, but even you didn’t believe it.

Bucky did not look convinced. In fact, his smirk only grew.

“Oh, I think you do,” he murmured.

You let out a strangled noise, your legs feeling like jelly. This was so much worse than you imagined.

Bucky knew.

You could see it in his eyes—the flicker of amusement, the slow realization creeping into his expression. He might not have figured out everything, but he damn sure knew something was up.

You swallowed hard, your back pressing against the cold metal shelves behind you. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape his piercing gaze.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky drawled, tilting his head. “You’re actin’ real strange.”

“I’m not!” you blurted, voice higher than usual.

His smirk widened. “Lyin’ to a supersoldier? Bold move.”

You clenched your fists, heat crawling up your neck. damn it, why was he so—

“I think I figured it out.” His voice dipped lower, teasing.

Your breath hitched. “Figured what out?”

Bucky stepped forward, erasing the last bit of space between you. His body just barely grazed yours, the heat of him suffocating in the small, dimly lit storage room. You swore your heart stopped beating.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmured, watching you like a predator cornering its prey. “Blushing every time I’m near. Jumping outta your skin when I speak.”

“I—I don’t—”

His flesh hand lifted, brushing the barest hint of your wrist. A barely-there touch, but it sent a shiver straight down your spine.

“Tell me the truth, doll.” His voice was softer now. Less teasing, more… something else. Something unreadable.

Your throat went dry. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“I…” You squeezed your eyes shut. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t—

But the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“I thought about you.”

Silence.

Your eyes snapped open. Bucky had gone completely still, his expression unreadable. You wanted to die, wanted the floor to swallow you whole.

His fingers twitched at his side. “…What?”

You exhaled shakily, pressing your palms against your burning face. “Oh my God, forget I said anything.”

“No.” His voice was sharp. Commanding. “Say it again.”

You groaned. “Bucky, I really don’t think—”

“Say it.”

Your breath hitched. You peeked up at him through your fingers. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark and searching. The teasing lilt from before was gone.

You licked your lips nervously. “I thought about you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

His nostrils flared, his metal hand curling into a fist. His reaction only made the heat inside you worse.

“When?” he rasped.

Your entire body ignited. He knew exactly what he was asking.

You whimpered, turning your face away. “Bucky—”

“When, sweetheart?” he pressed, his voice lower now, almost dangerous.

Your heart pounded against your ribs. You couldn’t lie. Not when he was looking at you like that, like he was waiting for you to confirm whatever thought was running through his head.

“At Night,” you whispered. “In my room.”

The air crackled between you.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his metal fingers twitching. He looked tense. Restless. Almost… desperate.

You swallowed hard. “Say something.”

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. Then, before you could react, he let out a low chuckle.

You froze. “What’s so funny?”

He smirked, eyes flickering over your face. “You’ve been drivin’ yourself crazy over this, haven’t you?”

Your cheeks burned. “Obviously!”

Another chuckle. “And all this time, you’ve been avoiding me ‘cause you’re embarrassed?”

“Yes!”

Bucky hummed, tapping his fingers against his thigh. His eyes were still locked on yours, intense and unreadable.

Then, suddenly, he leaned in.

You gasped, your body pressing further into the shelves. He was so close, his breath fanning over your cheek, his scent overwhelming.

“You should’ve told me sooner, doll,” he murmured, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

Your knees nearly buckled. “Bucky—”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again, his smirk softer now. More genuine.

“Next time?” His voice dropped lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me be there instead of just in your head.”

Your mouth fell open, your entire body going hot.

Before you could even begin to process that, the storage door burst open, and Sam’s voice rang out.

“The hell are you two doing in here?”

You nearly collapsed.

Your entire body froze.

Sam stood in the doorway, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. The overhead lights from the hallway cast his shadow into the room, but it was nothing compared to the tension hanging in the air between you and Bucky.

You scrambled back, nearly tripping over your own feet. “N-Nothing! We weren’t doing anything!”

Sam’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his frown deepening. “Uh-huh.”

Bucky, on the other hand, was too calm. Leaning casually against the shelf, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Lifting his chin toward you, he murmured, “You sure about that, sweetheart?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Oh, that smug bastard.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope!” you blurted, pushing past him. “Absolutely not! We were just—uh—trying to get the door open. Which is open now! Thanks, Sam! Bye!”

You didn’t wait for a response. You bolted down the hall, your face on fire, heart pounding so hard you swore it would burst.

You didn’t stop until you were safely inside your room, pressing your back against the door.

What the hell just happened?

You exhaled sharply, running a hand over your face. Your whole body was still buzzing, replaying the way Bucky had looked at you. The way his voice dipped when he told you—

“Next time, let me be there instead of just in your head.”

Your stomach flipped.

You needed to get a grip.

—

The next day, you tried to go back to avoiding Bucky.

Tried and failed.

Because unlike before—when he was amused but oblivious—now he knew.

And he wasn’t letting you get away with it.

Everywhere you turned, he was there. Not even being subtle about it. Sitting next to you at breakfast, standing way too close in the gym, brushing against your arm in the hallway. And every time, he’d send you these looks.

Like he was waiting.

Like he was daring you to bring it up.

It was infuriating.

By day three, you were at your breaking point.

“Why are you like this?!” you hissed at him in the common room, keeping your voice low so the others wouldn’t hear.

Bucky just smirked, sipping his coffee. “Like what?”

“Like this!” You threw your hands up. “Following me around, staring at me, teasing me—”

His grin widened. “I like teasin’ you.”

Your face burned. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You gasped. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I literally do.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, if you hated me, you wouldn’t have been moanin’ my name the other night.”

Your soul left your body.

Natasha—who had been minding her own business on the couch—choked on her drink.

You turned bright red, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I—you—Nat, I—”

Nat raised her hands. “Nope. Nope, I don’t wanna know. I don’t wanna know.” She stood, grabbing her coffee. “I’m just gonna leave you two to… whatever this is.”

You watched in horror as she walked out, giving you a knowing smirk before disappearing down the hall.

You turned back to Bucky, who looked way too pleased with himself.

“You’re evil,” you whispered.

He took another sip of coffee, completely unfazed. “And yet, you still thought about me.”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “I hate you.”

Bucky chuckled.

And then, to your absolute horror—he leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“Liar.”

You were going to die.

Not in battle, not on a mission—no, you were going to combust from sheer humiliation.

Bucky’s lips barely brushed your ear, but it was enough to send a full-body shiver down your spine. The heat of him, the teasing rasp in his voice—it was too much.

You launched yourself backward, nearly knocking over the coffee table in your attempt to put space between you.

“I hate you so much,” you hissed, face on fire.

Bucky just smirked, completely at ease. “You keep sayin’ that, sweetheart, but your body’s tellin’ me something real different.”

Your mouth dropped open in pure horror. “Oh my God—”

“Bucky, stop tormenting her,” Steve’s voice cut in as he entered the room, arms crossed.

You immediately snapped to attention. Steve.

Right. You were supposed to have a crush on Steve. Not his insufferably smug best friend who had somehow taken up permanent residence in your head and between your legs.

Bucky’s smirk faltered slightly. He glanced at Steve, then back at you.

You quickly looked away, cheeks still burning.

Steve sighed. “I don’t know what you did, but knock it off.”

Bucky raised his hands in mock innocence. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

Steve gave him a look before turning to you. “You okay?”

Your stomach twisted with guilt. Steve was being sweet, as always, but… his presence didn’t have the same effect on you anymore.

Not like Bucky.

You forced a smile. “Yeah. Fine.”

Steve studied you for a second, then nodded. “Alright. We’ve got training in ten. Don’t be late.”

With that, he left the room.

The moment he was gone, you felt Bucky’s eyes on you again. When you turned to glare at him, his smirk had disappeared—replaced with something… unreadable.

Something that made your heart stutter.

“You don’t look at him the way you look at me,” Bucky murmured.

Your breath caught.

You should have denied it. Should have told him he was wrong. Should have done something to wipe that knowing look off his stupidly attractive face.

But you didn’t.

Because he was right.

And you had no idea what to do about it.

—

You avoided Bucky for the rest of the day. Again.

This time, though, it wasn’t just out of embarrassment—it was because you were confused.

You had spent so long convincing yourself that Steve was the one you wanted. That he was your dream guy. That he was perfect.

And yet…

Why did Bucky’s voice send a thrill down your spine?

Why did his teasing make your pulse race?

Why did the idea of him pinning you against a wall make your knees weak?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the knock on your door that night.

Almost.

You hesitated, then slowly opened it—only to find Bucky standing there, leaning against the frame.

Your heart skipped. “Bucky—”

“We need to talk.” His voice was different. No teasing, no smugness. Just serious. Low.

Your stomach flipped.

You hesitated, but stepped aside, letting him in.

He closed the door behind him, then turned to you, arms crossed. “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

You swallowed hard. “Nothing’s going on.”

Bucky scoffed. “Bullshit.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Bucky, I don’t—”

“Is it Steve?”

You froze.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “You still want him?”

Your mouth opened—but no words came out.

Because you didn’t know.

You had spent so long thinking you did. But now? After the other night? After Bucky had wormed his way into your head and stayed there?

You weren’t so sure anymore.

Bucky exhaled sharply. “I ain’t him,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I ain’t the golden boy. I ain’t gentle. I ain’t soft.” His eyes met yours, dark and intense. “But don’t pretend you don’t want me anyway.”

Your breath hitched.

The air crackled between you, thick with something neither of you wanted to name.

You could lie. You could tell him he was wrong. You could pretend that your body didn’t burn whenever he was near.

But instead, you whispered—

“…I don’t know what I want.”

Bucky’s eyes searched yours. His metal fingers twitched at his side.

Then, after a long pause—he nodded.

“Figure it out,” he murmured, voice rough. “But don’t take too long, sweetheart.”

And then, before you could even breathe, he turned and walked out—leaving you wrecked in the middle of your room.

You barely slept.

Bucky’s words replayed in your head over and over again.

“Figure it out. But don’t take too long, sweetheart.”

The way he said it—like he knew you wanted him, like he was daring you to admit it—had left you restless.

And the worst part? He was right.

You didn’t want Steve. Not really. Maybe you had at one point, but now?

You wanted Bucky.

You wanted his teasing smirks, his sharp wit, his rough hands. You wanted the heat in his gaze when he looked at you, the way he always seemed to get under your skin.

You wanted him.

And you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

So, before you could second-guess yourself, you slipped out of bed and made your way to his room.

—

Bucky opened the door on the first knock, like he’d been waiting.

His eyes flickered over your face, searching. “Sweetheart—”

“I figured it out,” you blurted, pulse racing.

Bucky stilled.

You swallowed hard, stepping closer. “I want you.”

Something shifted in his expression—his features darkening, his jaw tightening. His metal fingers curled around the doorframe.

“You sure?” His voice was low, rough.

“Yes.” No hesitation. No doubt.

For a second, he just looked at you, unreadable. Then, without another word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, slamming the door shut behind you.

—

The next morning, you woke up tangled in Bucky’s sheets, his arm draped heavily over your waist.

Your entire body ached in the best way possible.

You blinked, your mind still hazy from the night before. The way his hands had felt on your skin, the way his voice had sounded against your ear—low, rough, possessive.

A flush crept up your neck.

You shifted slightly, and Bucky grumbled, tightening his grip around you. “Mm. Not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

Your heart flipped.

You bit your lip, hesitating. “So, um…”

Bucky cracked one eye open, smirking. “Yeah?”

You swallowed. “What… what does this mean?”

His smirk softened. He reached up, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “It means you’re mine.”

Your breath caught.

He tilted his head. “That a problem?”

You stared at him—at the cocky smirk, the warmth in his blue eyes, the certainty in his voice.

And, for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel confused.

A slow smile spread across your lips. “No.”

Bucky grinned. “Good.”

Then he pulled you back down, pressing his lips to yours—like he had no intention of letting you go.

[mandoloriancookie]

2500 likes!

[mandoloriancookie]

2500 likes!

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Grain of truth

*the picture used in the banner is no indication for how the Reader looks, it only serves the vibe of the story, it’s not a description

Soft!Dark Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader

Summary: You’re content with your quiet, peaceful life, but it suddenly becomes dangrously intense when an alpha, Steve Rogers, forces himself into it. You never believed nor seeked out the old fairytales of true mates, but Steve will make you admit there’s a grain of truth in every fairytale.

Warnings: For the first chapter merely hints of dub-con. In general for the rest of the story: soft!dark Steve Rogers; dub-con; A/B/O dynamics; dominance; possessive and controlling behavior; Dom/sub undertones; heat/mating cycles; forced orgasm; orgasm denial; size difference; slight breeding kink; 

Main Masterlist

Grain of Truth Masterlist

| Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |

Part One

word count: 4k

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Keep reading

[mandoloriancookie]

Omg. Can't wait till I get home today.

Grain of truth

*the picture used in the banner is no indication for how the Reader looks, it only serves the vibe of the story, it’s not a description

Soft!Dark Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader

Summary: You’re content with your quiet, peaceful life, but it suddenly becomes dangrously intense when an alpha, Steve Rogers, forces himself into it. You never believed nor seeked out the old fairytales of true mates, but Steve will make you admit there’s a grain of truth in every fairytale.

Warnings: For the first chapter merely hints of dub-con. In general for the rest of the story: soft!dark Steve Rogers; dub-con; A/B/O dynamics; dominance; possessive and controlling behavior; Dom/sub undertones; heat/mating cycles; forced orgasm; orgasm denial; size difference; slight breeding kink; 

Main Masterlist

Grain of Truth Masterlist

| Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |

Part One

word count: 4k

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Keep reading

[mandoloriancookie]

The Soldier and His Mission

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Summary: When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.

You should’ve known something was wrong the moment Bucky went still.

One second, the mission was wrapping up—just another Hydra facility wiped off the map, just another set of goons taken down. The next, something triggered him. A phrase muttered in Russian over a radio, the faintest crackle of a long-dead handler’s voice. You saw the shift in his posture before he even turned around, the telltale tightening of his jaw, the blankness overtaking those usually warm blue eyes.

Bucky Barnes was gone.

The Winter Soldier stood in his place.

And yet—he didn’t hurt you.

Not when he turned to face the team, his body language bristling with danger. Not when Steve hesitated before stepping forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And certainly not when you cautiously called his name, your voice softer than the others.

Instead, the Soldier moved between you and everyone else.

A shield.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Back at the Tower, you thought the episode would pass. That maybe, after a few hours, after enough familiar sights and sounds, Bucky would shake it off like he always did.

But the Soldier wasn’t leaving. And he had decided you were his mission.

Not to eliminate.

To protect.

At first, it was just hovering. You moved—he followed. You sat—he stood at your back, ever watchful. The others gave him space, exchanging worried glances when they thought you weren’t looking. Steve was tense, obviously trying to figure out how to break through, while Tony was less patient about it.

“This is a problem,” Stark declared after the first few hours, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “I mean, I hate to be the one to say it, but we have a fully armed, brainwashed assassin in the Tower again, and we all know how that went last time.”

“He’s not attacking anyone,” Natasha pointed out.

“Yet,” Tony shot back.

You ignored the argument as best you could, focusing instead on cooking something for Bucky—something normal, something familiar, something that might ground him. His eyes tracked you the entire time.

Then you miscalculated the heat on the stove.

The oil in the pan hissed and spat, and a second later, you hissed too as a sharp sting bloomed across your palm. You barely had time to react before there was a sudden blur of motion.

Bucky was on you instantly.

His flesh hand gripped your wrist, his metal one hovering protectively over the stove, as if it had personally attacked you. His face was unreadable, but his grip was firm, his hold gentle as he examined the burn.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, but he wasn’t listening.

Instead, he took the cold pack you hadn’t even reached for yet and pressed it carefully to your palm, his jaw tight, his brows furrowed in focus. You exchanged a look with Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, and the Captain exhaled, something like relief flashing in his eyes.

He was still in there.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The Soldier continued shadowing you for the next two days, much to Tony’s frustration. But as Natasha had pointed out—he wasn’t hurting anyone.

Unless they posed a threat to you.

That was something Steve learned firsthand during a sparring session. You had barely landed a hit before Bucky, watching from the sidelines, had moved. The next thing you knew, Steve was on his ass, blinking up at the ceiling, while Bucky stood between you like a human wall, eyes cold and calculating.

“For the record,” Steve grunted as he sat up, rubbing his ribs, “I was letting her win.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It wasn’t until you needed a medical checkup that things really came to a head.

“Barnes, I have to actually examine her,” Dr. Cho said patiently, eyeing where Bucky stood between you and the med bay’s equipment.

“No,” he replied flatly.

“Bucky—” you tried.

“The room is secure.”

“That’s not the—”

“She does not require assistance.”

“I do require assistance,” you corrected. “Because I burned my hand and twisted my shoulder thanks to a certain super soldier overreacting in the gym.”

Bucky didn’t move.

You exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” you said, shifting tactics. “Then stay.”

That got his attention.

“If you want to make sure nothing happens to me,” you reasoned, “then you can stay here. But you have to let the doctor check me out.”

His expression was unreadable for a long moment. Then, after what felt like an eternity—

“…Understood.”

Progress.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When it finally broke, it wasn’t dramatic.

There was no grand trigger, no huge revelation.

Just a moment of quiet.

You had fallen asleep on the couch, exhaustion finally winning after two days of Bucky’s overprotective hovering. When you woke up, it was to warm hands gently brushing over your wrist—both flesh and metal, but softer this time, as if relearning the feeling of touching you.

And then you heard it—his breath hitching.

A tiny, barely-there sound, but one filled with something raw.

You blinked sleepily, looking up.

Bucky was staring at you. Not the Soldier. Bucky.

His face was pale, his jaw tight, his eyes wide—his real eyes.

“…Doll?” His voice cracked over the word, like it had been caught in his throat.

You smiled sleepily, shifting so your fingers curled around his. “Hey, Buck.”

His exhale was shaky. His shoulders sagged. And when you tugged him down to you, he didn’t resist.

He just buried his face in your neck and held on.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You scared the hell out of me, you know,” you murmured later, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as he rested against you.

“I know,” he admitted, voice rough.

“You threw Steve like a ragdoll.”

“…Yeah.”

“…Kind of hot, not gonna lie.”

A laugh. Quiet, but real.

And just like that, Bucky Barnes was back.

[mandoloriancookie]

Little house watching with Mando.

Reader: Do you like fishing?

Mando: I find it. meditative. A balance to the chaos of bounty hunting.

Reader: Do you think Laura could catch more fish than you?

Mando: Perhaps... she could catch more fish me.

Reader: She caught 7.

Mando: OH! Look who won the daily fishing contest!.

[mandoloriancookie]

whoever told me to read rough day by guardianangelcas on ao3 GIRL FUCK U FOR NOT TELLING ME IT’S ABANDONED

on the other hand i am taking recommendations but they better be good (ง'̀-'́)ง

[mandoloriancookie]

Mandolorian and Little house on the prairie.

A name.

Reader: What if you only have girls like Pa?

Mando: Teach them to hunt, Strong and resourceful. Feed them snake.

Reader: You hate snake.

Mando: Toughen them up, Mandalorian life is not easy. Builds character.

Reader: Why?!

Mando: Maybe I'll cook it better.

Reader.. I'm leaving.

I had to google if you can eat snake.